#sorry but you could not provide a flight to my destination

[goatsandgangsters]

so the fucking airline.

which assured me I would be refunded when I agreed to rebook my cancelled flight to a different city 200 miles from my actual destination because there WERE no flights to my destination

replied to my refund request and reimbursement request for delay-related expenses bc I had to get train tickets to my destination which cost literally as much as a flight

by saying "sorry we don't do refunds. but here's $70 to make you feel better :)))"

[eveningepiphany]

hotel room | H.S

summary: harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.

warnings: SMUT! hand job (f+m receiving), PIV unprotected, sloppy morning sex, teasing, swearing, praise, friends to lovers.

A/N:I have opened my requests! and I’d love to write some from you guys, so send them in here <3

———

“So there’s only… definitely only one room for us?” I say slowly, and the lady behind the counter nods.

“Y/N,” Harry says, “we’ve shared a room before—“

“I’m so sorry the inconvenience— Since the multitude of delayed flights from the storm we’ve had an unexpected influx of last-minute bookings…” her hands are zipping along the keyboard as she is clearly under the pump.

“You’ve been booked under a single room.” She glances up, face turned up apologetically, confirming.

I nod, knowing there’s so many other people needing somewhere to stay right now, there’s no point being picky.

It’s just one night.

Because Harry and I live in the same part of the UK, we usually catch the same planes to and from when we get short breaks from touring with the band.

So of course we flew out for our Australian leg of the tour several hours ago and got stuck at our layover destination, Abu Dhabi.

The storm rolled in quick, putting hour— even day long— delays on flights. So now people are scrambling to book hotels for the next few nights.

Luckily our management got on it as soon as we’d called them about the delay of out flight, but I suppose they only could get us the one room for two.

We get our room key and head up the elevator to the 7th floor.

When we walk into the room there is a single queen bed in the centre of it, and I glance at Harry out the corner of my eye. We are always close to one another being in the band, but never “share a bed” close.

“Don’t stress.” He says.

“I’m not stressed.” I quip.

“Yes you are, don’t try and bullshit me.”

“Harry, we’re adults it’s fine.”

“Hardly adults.” He chuckles.

I scoff at his constant digs, there is a fineline of how much Harry I can tolerate in a day and we are really pushing it.

“Well if you think that then I implore you to take the couch.” I know just by looking at the couch he’d hardly fit on it, and I’m not that much of an asshole to let that happen.

“Oooh, you’re just trying t’get the bed all to yourself? Bloody bed hog.”

I open my bag up, pulling out fresh clothes and my toiletries, “Was just providing you the options. I’m going to shower.”

“Too bad if I wanted one first.” He sighs dramatically, with a little smirk that usually indicates he’s teasing.

“Too bad indeed.” I smile sarcastically at him as I shut the door.

It’s so nice to wash away the gross feeling that sticks to your skin after long flights like we just had.

When I come out of the bathroom he’s laying in the bed, crisp white doona pulled back.

“Dude you’re getting airport germs in the bed.”

He glances up from his phone, eyeing me for a split second— I’m just in sleep shorts and a plain tshirt.

“It’s fine, I’ll just have this side.” He replies, a smile breaking out over his face.

He leaves me no room to respond as he stands up, “im gonna have a shower as well, and then we can order room service, how’s that sound?”

I nod, “I’ll get the menu and have a read through.”

It’s weird how we one minute can’t stop sarcastically niggling and the next we’re back to being normal friends.

I browse through their relatively large menu as the shower runs in the background. If I strain, I can hear Harry gently humming.

I’m happy to see my favourite foods on there… and heaps of deserts.

He comes out shortly after while I’m still reading the menu, and he’s clad in only grey sweatpants, adorning damp hair.

I choose to tear my eyes away from his bare chest, “I’ve figured out what I want to get, have a read through.”

I chucked him the menu and he comes to sit down next to me on the bed.

Im surprised we don’t end up in another debate about the sleeping arrangements, but I think we’re both so exhausted from the flight. The 8 hour plane trip settling deep into our bones.

“They have y’favourite.” He says with a smile playing on his lips.

“Yea, I’m so glad. It’s all I’m craving right now.”

“What are you gonna get?” I lean to look over his shoulder at the menu.

“Maybe I’ll try their tacos?”

“I’m gonna order some of the desert stuff too.”

“Y’gonna be so full.” He laughs.

“It’ll be worth it.” I say, as I stand up to go over to the phone on the desk in the corner of the room.

I ring up and order an unnecessary amount of stuff before giving them our room number and hoping back into bed.

It’s so cozy, and if it weren’t for the food I knew was coming, I’d probably curl up and fall asleep straight away.

We lay together, talking about the plan for the next few days until the food gets delivered with a knock on the door.

I get up to open it, taking the trays of food from the kind waiter.

He groans, “God it smells good.”

We both spread the dishes of food on the bed and quickly start eating.

The TV starts playing reruns of friends, the episode where Ross makes the paste with his leather pants, trying to get them up.

We’re both tearing up with laughter, stuffing our faces with our first proper meal since dinner on the plane over 5 hours ago.

“Holy shit.” He says, and we’re are letting out fits of giggles, as Ross says “—and the lotion and the powder have made a paste…”

“I swear— why did he listen to joey.” I scoff, shoving a bite of food into my mouth.

“No, because the way it just keeps getting worse.” He buries his face into his hands with a pained grin.

We watch a few of the episodes that were playing, sharing the last of the chocolate cookies that I’d ordered.

I stood up to move all the trays our food came on over to the small kitchen bench, leaving them for the morning.

“That was so yum.” I sigh out, content and full.

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and finish up my night routine, ready to honestly just go to sleep.

I come out with a small smile on my lips, excited to get back into bed where it’s cozy. Slipping back under the crisp white sheets, Harry turns off the TV.

The room is now dark, “fuck… can’t see now— I gotta brush m’teeth as well.”

“Have my phone.” I chuck it in his general direction, and clonk him straight in the side.

“Ouch.” He huffs, grabbing it and turning the flash on.

He pads over to the bathroom while I roll my eyes at how dramatic he is.

He turns the lights on in there, coming back over to give me my phone now that he can see.

I text a few of my immediate family members to let them know we’d settled into our hotel, choosing to leave out the fact we’re sharing a bed.

I mean assuming that’s what the plan is. I highly doubt he wants to sleep on the couch.

Being the only female in a band of boys leads to lots of assumptions throughout my family unit. Especially with Harry.

They mistake our arguments as ‘pent-up sexual frustration’. Which is far from how I like to think of it.

He steps out from the bathroom, and I turn my torch on so he can flick the light off.

He scrapes a hand over his face, looking to me with tired eyes.

The hotel was relatively quiet now, only a few drunken laughs echoing down the hallway as it nears 12am.

He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over himself.

I tug my pillow down a bit before turning off my flash.

“Y’tired?” He asks quietly, sounding already kind of groggy.

I hum in agreement, rolling to face him. It’s quiet a few beats.

I can just make out his outline next to me,

I can feel the warmth of his body from where I’m laying. And it feels like I’m being enveloped by it in a strange— yet lovely way.

The thought floats around in my head, images conjuring from the darkness.

I blame this on the 8 hour flight and sleep deprivation.

Usually I can ignore it, but as much as he’s a proper pain in the ass sometimes, I’d have to be visually impaired to say he wasn’t good looking.

And hell he’s laying in the same bed as me without a shirt on.

“Y’staring at me.” He chuckles softly, and I startle a little.

“How can you even see me?” I ask, amused.

“I can’t, can just feel it.”

“As if you can feel it.” I scoff, “I’ll roll over if my eyes being on you makes you too uncomfortable.”

“No, no, wait come back.” He whines as I start to move.

I huff out a laugh, and roll back over to him.

I keep my eyes shut, “better?”

He whispers a yes, and I smile.

I keep that very smile as I drift off, listening to Harry’s slow breathes from beside me, allowing them to lull me to sleep.

———

I can only half remember waking up.

I was warm, heavy, and I felt his body before I saw it.

My eyes had only opened a tiny bit—there was light creeping through the thin curtains, making his unruly hair just visible.

My leg was thrown over his hip, and I was pressed right into his chest. We were fully intertwined, and fuck did it feel nice.

I close my eyes again, I can feel his morning wood. My heart jumps a little in my chest. Maybe I can just roll over— pretend I didn’t feel it, and go back to sleep.

I carefully strain to make the movement, but I instead get pulled closer to him.

He pushes himself against me, a sigh slipping from his nose, and I realise moving may have been a bad idea.

“Fuck…” I hear him mutter against my hair, bucking his hips up again.

“Harry.” I say, voice croaky with sleep. Of course this does nothing.

I have no idea how awake he is, I’m not even fully awake yet. But Jesus, this feels better than it should.

I feel like a horrific person for enjoying the way his clothed-length is pressed into me. But by god I am not strong enough to remove myself from this situation.

“Harry, wake up.” I groaned, squirming a little in his grasp.

He seems to come to it, just enough to realise whatever the fuck is happening in a couple seconds.

“Y/N…? Fuck. what is—“ I feel his body tense underneath me as it hits him, and he probably feels his boner pressed between my legs.

His hand flys up to my thigh that’s resting on his hip, “Holy shit—“

“It’s fine, H.” I whisper, and I’m not really sure why I say that, or what I’m implying by doing so.

Or what it means paired with the fact I haven’t protested to his dick practically grinding against my cunt.

“What do you mean?” He asks, groggily.

“Not sure.” I confess, whimpering a little as he still is hard underneath me. I push into him a bit out of unspoken desire and I hear him swallow.

He doesn’t say anything as he slides his hand up my leg, cupping it on my ass.

I glance up to see his face, his eyes still half-lidded, and his cheeks have a gentle flush to them.

I feel myself getting wetter as he keeps rubbing himself along my thin sleep shorts.

He moans a bit, and I slip my hand between us to palm his cock through his sweatpants.

“This ok? Want me to help you out a bit?”

“God— yes please…” he groans.

I push it underneath his waistband, tugging him out.

He’s heavy and hot in my hand. Glancing down, its bigger than I expected. The tip is flush and red, glistening with the damp beads of precum. Hardly surprising he’s got such a pretty cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ— look at y’little hand wrapped ‘round me.” He swears.

I slowly squeeze the head of it, and that quickly has him bucking into my palm.

His own hand travels between my sleep shorts, “Mind i return the favour?”

I hum in agreement, but he doesn’t do anything, “Gotta hear you say it, tell me what you want.”

I roll my eyes, of course he’s like this in bed, wants to hear how bad I want him.

“What do you want me to say to you Harry? How bad I want your fingers in my wet cunt right now, or how I want you to fuck my clit with your tongue?”

“Want my tongue do you? Because yes that’s exactly what I’d like to hear.” He says, smirking as he dips his hand under my shorts, running his fingers through me.

“No panties… been next to me all night with your pussy so easily accessible. Such a little slut.”

He collects my arousal, carrying it up to my swollen clit. I moan with the action, trying to keep my hand pumping rhythmically.

This proves to be a challenge, as he’s very clearly skilled with his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Hardly even touched you.”

“Been grinding your dick into me for a bit, actually.” I hiss as he slips a finger into me.

“Sorry, Baby. Did my hard cock get you all worked up?” He teases, and I hate the fact that he’s right.

I give a particularly hard squeeze and he grunts, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He quickens the pace of his fingers, fucking them in and out of me.

“Hard to hate me when I’m making you feel so good, hm?” He kisses my forehead, curling his fingers in me.

I cry out. Fuck— I was going to come.

“Wait, wait, wait— don’t wanna come yet, please…” I clench my thighs around his hand and it stills.

I look up at him, his green eyes burning with desire.

He doesn’t say anything, just leans his head down and places a wet kiss on my lips.

He keeps his fingers pumping slowly in and out of me as we start to kiss.

He brings me close to coming again a few times, just to tease me, but he keeps his focus on my lips— pulling my bottom one between his and sucking on it.

It’s messy and sloppy, edges of it blurred from the morning haze still over us.

“Harry.” I say into his mouth, legs shaking a little.

“Want you in me.” It comes out of me as an unbridled thought.

“Jesus…” he murmurs, stunned by hearing the words fly out of me so openly.

He pulls his lips away, cock twitching in my hand, “you want…”

“You want me to fuck you?”

I nod, grabbing the hem of my shirt and slipping it off.

He’s enamoured by me, it’s clear in his eyes.

He reaches his hand up, out of my sleep shorts and he cups my breast with it gently.

He moves his mouth down to place gentle kissed over them.

“You’re perfect, yknow that?” He says against my skin, tugging me closer to him as I smile at the flattery.

“I’m on birth control too.” I state.

He glances up, and it appears I’ve shocked him yet again, “you wanna take me raw?”

I haven’t gone without I condom in ages… but I trust him.

“We’re both clean, right? I trust you.”

He smiles, “I’m clean. As long as your sure.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of something.

He pulls my sleep shorts off, and I help shuck his sweats the rest of the way down his legs.

We’re warm between the sheets, and he’s peppering open-mouthed kisses along my neck as he lines himself up with me.

He locks eyes with me as he pushes in, and both of us moan at the feeling.

“Fuck— you’re tight.” He squeezes his hands on my hips.

I am blinded with the pleasure of him filling me up, I can’t even think about how bad an idea this could be.

“Feels so good, H.” I groan, scraping my nails along his chest.

“Can feel you clenching around me.” He reaches a hand down to play with my clit.

He’s gonna make me come embarrassingly quick— especially considering he sort of edged me a bit while we were kissing.

He was thrusting into me, a perfect pace to have me squirming in his arms.

I can tell he’s getting close, my name flying out his mouth paired with vulgar words and moans.

“I- fuck- I’m not gonna be able to drag this out if you keeping squeezing m’cock like that.” He pants.

“I’m close, so just come with me.” I plead, the thought of him finishing with me adding fuel to the fire in the pit of my stomach.

“God H, I’m gonna come— hard.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, keep talking.�� He says, his skin slapping into mine, chasing his orgasm.

“You’re so pretty.” I blurt, spewing the first thing that comes to mind as I look at him.

He really is, his hair is tousled from sleep and my hands, his eyes half lidded from pleasure and tattooed chest slightly damp.

He swears, bottoming out and coming hard without warning. His hand circles my clit fast, bringing my crashing down with him.

“Harry!” I cry, burying my head into the crook of his neck as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He groans, still thrusting into me trying to prolong his orgasms.

The high slowly ebbs away, and he stays in me for a bit. Nothing but the sounds of our laboured breathing filling the room.

I think we don’t know what to say, after something like that happens— when it all comes on instinct and you’re without any clue on what it changes.

Our dynamic, though it was a love-hate kind of thing, it was a consistent one. You knew what to expect. Now that this has happened…

“I have no idea what you’re thinking right now.” He whispers, “and that kind of scares me.”

I lay quietly for a few heartbeats, “just… that was really good. And I’m not 100% prepared for what might happen after this, y’know. To us I guess.”

“Well. To keep it simple, I really like you— and that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had so…” he trails off, unsure where to go with the sentence.

“Ok— so this isn’t gonna ruin our friendship?” I sigh in a bit of relief.

“Of course not,” he pulls back to look at me, and a smile spreads across his face, “after all, we are adults.”

———

[mungo-grubb]

Vitality Inc. - Bryan & the Wonder Protein Shake Part II

***

The flight and limo ride took a while to reach the ranch, but Bryan’s excitement kept him eager to arrive at his destination. As Bryan arrived at Michael’s ranch with his duffel over his shoulder, he was met and welcomed by the house manager, Mr. Carson.

“Welcome to the ranch, Bryan.” Said Mr. Carson. Michael felt awful that he could not meet you personally when you arrived, but he sends his regards. “I am here to show you where you will be staying and provide a tour of the compound. Since you already submitted your signed NDA, we can move ahead with the tour.”

Instead of heading into the main house, Mr. Carson took Bryan to an electric cart and placed his duffle in the back. “Hop in, Bryan. We will first drop off your things at the Bunkhouse where you will be staying on the property, and then I will take you around.”

A bit confused but going with the flow, Bryan hopped into the passage side, and they started down the side trail. As they drove past the massive mansion and headed down a dirt road, Mr. Carson explained that he would stay at the bunkhouse. He will have it all to himself, and it is equipped with everything that he may need. The Bunk is fully loaded with food, refreshments, a gym, a video recording studio, and more. Our host, Mr. Michael, would like you to make yourself at home.  

Per the agreement, the kitchen is fully stocked with Wonder Protein Shakes. Please try it, and practice making promotional videos with it. Mr. Michael will review the footage and provide feedback later in the week.

"Oh, you will not have cell service while on the ranch due to our privacy policy."

Bryan, a bit overwhelmed, just nodded while taking everything in.         

As they arrived at the Bunk, Bryan was in shock at the size of the house. The two-story ranch-style house was larger than any bunkhouse he had ever seen. “This is a mansion, and it was all mine.” Said Bryan.

“Well as long as you are staying with us.” Replied Mr. Carson.

Bryan corrected himself with an “Oh yeah, right!”

“I am going to place your belongings upstairs in your room. Why don’t you head into the kitchen and help yourself to something to eat and drink?”        

Mr. Carson disappeared up the stairs as Bryan headed down the hallway to the kitchen. 

Mr. Carson was not lying, the kitchen was stocked with all of Bryan’s favorites, such as chips, snacks, and different types of cheese. In the fridge, were multiple shelves supplied with rows of the Power Protein Shake with a small note on one, “Enjoy! – Mr. M.”.  

Bryan, keen on trying the product, grabbed one off the shelf and popped it open. “Bottoms Up!”

The Power Protein Shake tasted just like a chocolate milkshake. “This is unbelievable!” Scanning the nutrition label, Bryan was amazed to see 0 carbs and 50 grams of protein.

“Fuck, this cannot be real. It is too good.” Slamming the rest of the protein drink down his throat. “Bbbbuuuurrrpp!”

Bryan heard “Nice one” from behind him. Mr. Carson was standing there with a polite smile.

“Sorry,” said Bryan.

“No worries, lad, grab a few for the road with some cheese and crackers, and I will show you some more.”   

The rest of the day, Mr. Carson drove Bryan around the compound and showed him the pool, the pastures, walking trails, the lake, and the barn before dropping him back off at the Bunkhouse.  

“Settle in and get some sleep, Bryan.” Said Mr. Carson. “Breakfast will be provided, and then feel free to start your routine and recording.”

“What about Mr. Michael?” asked Bryan.

“Oh, he will sync up with you later this week. For the time being, he has provided some instructions on your kitchen counter. Good night.”

“Good night, Mr. Carson.”

Bryan headed to the kitchen to see what his instructions were from his generous host.

Welcome to my ranch,

I apologize that I could not meet you today in person, however, I look forward to meeting you later this week. In the meantime, according to our previous discussions and our contract, I’d like you to drink my shakes and record promotional material during your day-to-day activities (e.g., working out, hiking, swimming, or relaxing around the Bunk. I want to market this product as a healthy everyday protein drink for the active guy. Your brand is “Dairy Makes the Body,” I would love to see my protein shake make you huge.

Housekeeping and the kitchen will be restocked daily. If you need anything else, just ask Mr. Carson.  

Mr. M.

Not able to sleep from the excitement, Bryan explored his new accommodations with a shake in one hand and a block of cheese in the other.

***  

The next morning, Bryan awoke groggy with the sun. He was used to starting his chores on the farm around 4:30 AM, which often prevented him from sleeping in. While glancing over at the clock, reading 7:00 AM, he noticed the three open Power Protein shake containers and the cheese wrappers.

“Wow, I don’t remember having that many shakes, but I will hit the gym harder today to make up for last night.”     

Bryan threw on some briefs and made his way down the stairs toward the kitchen. He planned to grab a couple of shakes and made his way into the gym, but as he turned the corner, he ran into a tall, fit, blonde man in an apron.

“Oh sorry,” said Bryan quickly trying to cover up his morning semi-chub outlined by his underwear.

“No worries, man. I’m Stephan, your personal chef and nutrition consultant. I would have thought Mr. Carson would have told you that breakfast would be provided.”

“Oh, yes, you’re right, he did. Sorry, I forgot.” Said Bryan frozen in the doorway.     

 “Come in, sit at the table. I was provided a list with all your favorites, and I have made a special plan to assist you in your workouts while here on the ranch.”

“What, really?!?” Bryan was again surprised by the good fortune of his situation.  

“For your first day, I made you a cheesy four-egg omelet, buttered toast, and a protein shake. I will have your meals ready for you in the morning and the evening. For lunch, have a protein shake until full. We can adjust the plan, as we go along.”   

“Heck yeah! I love that I don’t have to worry about meal prep.”

Stephan serves Bryan at the table and goes back to his prep station. Bryan stared, completely enamored with the Thor-like chef in front of him. Then Bryan took a bite and almost came instantly into his briefs. The omelet was so gooey and cheesy that it melted over his tongue. This was peak farm fresh!

Bryan daydreamed about his chef as he ate. Noticing the rather large stain of precum at the tip of his erection, he had to wait until Stephan left the kitchen before, he could escape up to his room to avoid being seen.     

Safely back in his room, Bryan jumped back into bed and quickly got to work on his morning wood while thinking about Stephan. Stroking his average size shaft with one hand and rubbing his pecs and abs with the other. Bryan loved to feel his strength and muscles when he worked on his pole. His mind focused on what Stephan might be packing under that apron, when he erupted all over his thigh.  

With his head cleared Bryan was ready to start the day (For real this time). He showered, cleaned up, and put on some running shorts, a black tank top, and his ball cap.

Still full of breakfast, Bryan made his way to the recording studio to start his video journaling.

Day 1

Even though he knows no one is going to see it other than Michael, Bryan started his video blogging to practice and get some material.  

“Hey guys, Bryan here, I’ve been tapped to promote this amazing new protein shake by Vitality.” Taking a sip, ‘It’s sooo good! Umm, I am really excited to spend the next couple of weeks with you in the gym and achieve some epic gains!”

Bryan spent a couple of hours taking a handheld camera around the house. He showed the gym, the kitchen, and around the Bunkhouse. 

For lunch, he grabbed a few shakes and went for a walk on the nature trails. When he returned, he was finally ready to hit the gym.

"I believe it is an arms and abs day". Having the gym all to himself, Bryan cranked up some music and began to pump.  

After about two hours working up a good sweat, Bryan felt accomplished and hungry. He cleaned up and headed back to the kitchen (Secretly hoping that Stephan was there).

“Hey there big guy,” said Stephan. “Good workout?”

“Oh, hey – yeah! Arms and abs today.” Replied Bryan, flexing a bit to impress Stephan.

“Looking solid.” Grab a shake and have a seat. Dinner should be ready shortly.

Bryan and Stephan chatted away, getting to know each other while Stephan served up dinner.

“Extra-cheesy rice, broccoli, and grilled chicken.”      

Bryan inhaled the plate and asked, “This is fantastic! Is there more?”

Of course, while bringing the pan over to the table. “I am glad you like it. Help yourself.”

As Stephan cleaned up the kitchen, Bryan ate until he was stuffed.

“All right big man, get some sleep, and I will see you again for breakfast.”

A little sad that Stephan was leaving, Bryan relaxed on the couch, digesting his meal, until he drifted off to sleep. 

Check out the full 5 part story:

[c-e-d-dreamer]

I told myself I was going to work on my chaptered WIPs after dinner today, but instead, I saw this TikTok on my FYP and was instantly like I need to write this. So I did write this. Enjoy maybe? I don't even know

“We're sorry ladies and gentlemen, but due to the bad weather at our destination, we will be delayed again. We will now begin boarding at 8:40. Thank you.”

Nesta barely swallows down her sigh, and a number of groans and grumbles echo around her, clearly mirroring her annoyance and souring mood. Three hours. They're delayed another three hours. It's just the cherry on top of an already stressful travel day.

She digs her phone out of her bag and quickly sends a text in the groupchat with her sisters, giving them an update on her flight status. With that done, she spends some time scrolling aimlessly through social media, already mentally chastising herself for not packing a backup book into her carry-on. She should've known. She should've known everything that could go wrong, would, and she'd be stuck sitting at her gate for hours with her book already finished from the first hour delay.

Rather than stare at the walls for the next three hours, Nesta thumbs through her apps until she finds Tinder, knowing that will at least provide some entertainment while she waits. As soon as the app loads, she starts judging and swiping. Shirtless photo with the face cut off? Swipe. Group photos of generic looking white dudes where you can't even tell who the profile is even for? Swipe. Photo with an obvious ex? Swipe. Photo from the gym? Swipe.

“Wow,” a voice says from behind Nesta, making her jump. “You didn’t even want to think about it a bit more before swiping? Looked like a great guy to me.”

Nesta twists in her seat, and to her horror, comes face to face with the exact man she just swiped left on. He has his hair scraped back into a bun rather than down the way he had in his picture, and this close, Nesta realizes his eyes are a bright hazel, the gold of them seeming to flicker in amusement under the harsh airport lighting. But despite the slight differences, there’s no denying it’s most definitely him.

Nesta is sure her face must be the picture perfect of embarrassment, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. She can feel the tell-tale signs of a blush creeping up her neck and threatening to spill across her cheeks, but she quickly schools her features into a scowl instead. From the smirk that tugs up the left corner of the man’s lips, he’s clearly clocked it anyways.

“Gym rat isn’t really my type,” Nesta tells him primly.

“Is that so?” the man laughs, the sound warm and seeming to rumble deep from within his chest. “You didn’t even swipe through all the photos either. The third one is a nice photo with a dog. Doesn’t that show I’m a caring guy?”

“I think it shows that you try too hard on your dating profile.”

“You know, just for that, I’m going to remove my like,” the man shoots back, tossing Nesta a wink when he takes in her surprise. “That’s right, sweetheart. If you had swiped right, it would have been a match.”

“Oh, no. Whatever will I do now?” Nesta remarks dryly with a roll of her eyes.

The man laughs again, stretching out his hand over the backs of their seats toward her. “Cassian by the way, since it looked like you swiped too fast to even read my name.”

Nesta scoffs, but she slides her hand into Cassian’s. His hands are much larger than hers, practically swallowing hers whole as his fingers curl around her hand. The calluses of them slide against her palm, but his hand is warm and steady, and for a moment, she swears her blood heats from the contact, that some flame deep within rises to meet him, to greet him as though her very soul seems to recognize him.

“So what has you flying to Velaris?” Cassian asks when he pulls his hand back.

“Family,” Nesta explains, shifting in her seat to face him properly. “My sister lives there, so I’m flying out for her engagement party.”

“Same for me. Both my brothers live in Velaris, so I’m flying home for them. Well, Rhys in particular, but…” Cassian says with an easy shrug before reaching his hand up and rubbing it almost nervously along the back of his neck. “Anyways, you know with the delay, they technically have to give us food and drink vouchers now. Want to go check out one of the bars?”

Nesta can’t stop the surprise laugh that tears past her lips, refusing to acknowledge the warm feeling that blooms in her gut when Cassian’s face lights up at the sound. “Are you asking me on a date? In an airport?”

“Absolutely,” Cassian agrees, his grin wide. “Do you have anything better to do for the next three hours?”

Nesta blinks once, twice, but she can’t say he’s wrong. Not to mention, that after spending so long dealing with the lines and the delays at the airport, she could definitely go for a big glass of wine.

“Alright, fine. I'm in,” Nesta agrees, standing up and gathering her things.

Cassian's grin widens even more somehow, the greens and golds of his hazel eyes seeming to alight as he stands up as well, shouldering his backpack. They retrieve their vouchers from the worker behind the counter, and then Cassian offers his arm toward Nesta like they're in the countryside of some period movie and not the middle of the crowded, dingy airport in the twenty-first century. Nesta raises an eyebrow at the gesture, but she settles her hand in the crook of his elbow nonetheless, letting Cassian lead them away from their gate and toward one of the airport bars.

Nesta hates to admit it, but she ends up having a good time with Cassian. Despite Nesta's correct assessment of him being a gym rat, he tells her about the gym he owns and operates, the classes that he teaches there. She tells him about her own job, about the law firm she's working at and some of her past cases, and he actually seems interested, asks her questions and listens. But more than anything, for every dry remark, every quip, she throws his direction, he doesn't balk or get offended. Instead, he rises to the challenge, laughing and smirking and throwing his own suggestive comments right back at her. For as much as he has her rolling her eyes in fond annoyance, he has her laughing too. It’s easy in a way it probably shouldn’t be, but Nesta doesn’t mind.

Almost too quickly, the three hours pass, and Nesta and Cassian make it back to their gate. Thankfully, their plane is actually boarding now. Cassian has a higher boarding number than Nesta on his ticket, so she expects that to be the end of their chance encounter today, but when she steps onto the plane, Cassian waves her down.

“Saved you a seat,” Cassian explains, gesturing to the open seat beside him.

Nesta glances at the seats further down the plane, at the line of people waiting behind her expectantly. She steels her nerves and slides her bag into the overhead compartment, settling into the seat beside Cassian after all. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long after she’s seated for the plane to finish boarding and takeoff. Nesta prepares to settle in for the flight, but to her surprise, Cassian takes two sets of headphones from the flight attend when she offers them.

“So what movie do you want to watch?” Cassian asks, touching through to the entertainment options on the screen in front of him.

“You know you can’t plug two sets of headphones in, right?”

“True, but I can hit play on both our screens at the exact same time.”

Nesta snorts quietly at that, but she doesn’t say anything more as Cassian pulls up a movie on both their screens, lets him plug in both sets of headphones and takes the ones plugged into her screen. She has to bite her lip around a laugh while Cassian hovers a finger over both screens, ensuring he presses play at the exact same time on both.

Nesta relaxes back to watch the movie, but it’s not long before the stress of the day catches up with her, exhaustion digging deep into her bones and pulling her under. She tries to focus on the actors on the screen, on the dialogue and the story, but her eyes feel heavier and heavier with each passing minute. She decides to close her eyes, just for a few minutes.

When Nesta opens her eyes again, the screen in front of her is black, and a quick glance toward Cassian’s screen shows a new movie playing. Her head is nestled against his shoulder, his arm wrapped snuggly around her shoulders and fingers drawing senseless patterns against her bicep. Nesta knows that she should move, that she should sit up, but she’s so comfortable, so warm. With each relaxed inhale in and exhale out, it doesn’t take much coaxing for Nesta to fall back asleep again.

Nesta wakes again when a gentle hand on her shoulder rouses her. She blinks her eyes a few times before Cassian’s face comes into focus, and he offers her a small, soft smile.

“We made it to Velaris,” Cassian explains quietly. “Just landed.”

Nesta nods her head and sits up, rubbing at her eyes and the remnants of sleep still clinging there. The plane starts to deboard, and they both clamber out of their seats, Cassian getting Nesta’s bag down for her. They follow the signs to baggage claim, waiting until bags start to drop down onto the carousel. Nesta spots her bag first. She goes to grab it, but Cassian pulls it off the carousel for her. It doesn’t take his own bag long to appear, and he grabs that too.

With both their bags now in hand, Nesta turns toward him, realizing that this is it. This is the end of their unexpected traveling together. That now they’ll go their separate ways in Velaris. That now she’ll probably never again see Cassian and his hazel eyes and his easy grins, never hear his suggestive barbs and his warm laughter.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye then,” Nesta tells him, surprising even herself with the way she feels… disappointed, the way her heart prickles and squeezes between her ribs.

“I guess it is,” Cassian agrees, leaning down and pressing a kiss against Nesta’s cheek. “Enjoy Velaris, Nes.”

Cassian turns and heads for the airport doors, leaving Nesta standing there and blinking in shock after him. She reaches a hand up, pressing her fingers against the spot he had kissed her, only the ding of her phone finally pulling her back to reality. She digs it out of her bag, finding a text message from a new contact blinking up at her.

—

Airport Hottie

Maybe next time, you’ll swipe right ;)

Updated Taglist (let me know if you’d like to be added): @moodymelanist​ @nesquik-arccheron @sv0430​ @talkfantasytome @bookstantrash @eirini-thaleia @ubigaia @fromthelibraryofemilyj @luivagr-blog @superspiritfestival @hiimheresworld @marigold-morelli @sweet-pea1 @pyxxie @dustjacketmusings @hallway5 @dongjunma @glowing-stick-generation @melonsfantasyworld @isterofimias @goddess-aelin @melphss @theladystardust @a-trifling-matter @blueunoias @kookskoocie @cassiansbigwingspan

[r6s-imagines]

jackal x reader >> quit your squirming

•••

MASTERLIST

warnings: swearing, light injuries, tiny bit of nsfw, makeout sesh

•••

summary: jackal needs more practice perfecting his appearance, and the organization pilot happy to provide assistance.

notes: LOL I STARTED WRITING AGAIN VINE BOOM

•••

your knees wobbled from the lack of movement as you stood from the foam pad on the pavement floor, wiping your forehead and leaving a thin streak of grime onto your skin. rainbow should invest more into their vehicle care than their damn firing range, you thought. what good is aim if you can’t take it anywhere? bias aside, your error report was due to the director and you felt your joints cry out as you took slow steps back into the facility.

the universe had oddly comedic timing, making you climb up three flights of stairs to get to the drop-off destination. your eyes traced the fine stripe running alongside the wall, catching each door label and looking for the right one.

having been employed there for a large part of your working age, the door placements were almost muscle memory. marius’s mechanics office was fourth door down the south wing. you’d been there a million times, and when you swore you hit the fourth door, you knocked once and looped your arm around the knob, swinging open the door.

“marius, i have the--”

“carajo!”

a whisper-yell violated your ears and you stumbled, spilling the documents across the floor. the lone wolf jackal was sitting at his desk, chip up toward the ceiling and a large weathered hand concealing his neck. quite literally being the last man you hoped to meet in your condition, your temperature flared up and you could feel your underarms dampening.

the spaniard's hair was slicked back with curly flyaways, water dripping down his thick neck. his facial hair seemed to be taking over his face, though not too unkempt. you always considered him a perfect specimen, from his stone-cold perspective on extractions to the way he'd rest against a wall during a business celebration. "perfect," in your mind, did not mean flawless. he's slipped up, missed meetings, sometimes even forgotten his helmet for a mission. he was your hot, imaginary disaster of a boyfriend. in your daydreams, at least.

to those besides yourself, to call specialist jackal a disaster would be a practical understatement. sure, you’d catch his passing glance in the transport helicopter or watch his back muscles flex as he shrugged on his vest, but that doesn’t mean his interior was stable.

ramírez was a man past his prime, yet not weathered to the extent of being “too old.” your trusted co-pilot, jäger, called him your salt and pepper crush (for unclear reasons to you) to the point of you threatening to send the copter straight into the ocean.

"ramírez," your voice cracked. "sorry for the interruption. it seems i entered the wrong door. have a good day."

"i- no- wait-" he huffed, lifting his hand from his neck. he glanced in the mirror which caused his eyes to widen. ramírez reached out to you, quickly yet tenderly taking hold of your forearm. "could you... help. really quick. please."

it seemed like a cruel setup to an evil prank. you were too old for games, but you could name a few other operators that would seem up for such a thing. he continued.

"could you get me some gauze, l/n? a cotton ball. something. anything, por favor."

"are you okay?"

"yes. i cut my neck shaving," he looked up to your panicked expression. "just a little nick, don't worry."

you scurried toward one of the many first aid kits nailed to the wall. you flipped it open, fumbling for some sort of bandage. you paused, gripping it in your palm.

now's your chance, mein frund, you could hear jäger in your head. you nodded to yourself and reentered his room. jackal had not moved from his position but was now standing an inch from his mirror.

"gracias," he thanked, reaching out to grab the gauze from your hand. your quick thinking caused you to pull back.

"let me help," you said, with a light smirk. it had been some time since you last had the chance to flirt, with work and all clouding your mind since you got out of college. "i can see it better. sit."

he sat down, legs wide. you shuffled between his left leg, practically sitting on it. he readjusted in his seat. without even thinking twice, you held his chin and turned it upward.

"i can't reach it, it's like.. right under your jaw-" you mumbled mostly to yourself. you watched his jaw clenched and eyes glue to the ceiling and said nothing about it. it's working. "where is it?"

"here," jackal whispered back, placing his hand over yours and moving your hand to his pulse. you began to wipe at the blood, yet it never seemed to stop. fighting the frustration, you furrowed your brow and continued cleaning his neck, when suddenly, you heard a low groaning noise.

"quit your squirming," you instructed, holding him down with more authority. he continued to breathe through his teeth, and you felt his body heat radiating despite the gap. you began to get worried.

"is this okay?" you asked, referring to the cut. his breathing became heavier and body stiffer.

"yes... hhh—stay like that."

you raised an eyebrow, checking your surroundings. during your frustrations, you seemed to have taken a seat on his lap, with your hand applying gentle pressure on the sides of his neck. you soon realized he was not talking about the blood.

"me encanta esto." it was almost inaudible, said barely above a whisper, but you heard it.

for a moment, time stopped. you pulled your gauze-hand back, and truly seizing this glorious opportunity, placed it on his chest. it was just as amazing as you pictured it felt. was this actually happening right now? is he just really into this, or is he so uncomfortable he can't even speak?

he lowered his chin, meeting your eyes once before glancing down at your lips. you couldn't help but admire his long, dark eyelashes. his lips parted.

"can i kiss you...?" ramírez asked, fixated on your mouth. you nodded, slowly.

as if waiting a million years, his instincts took over as he grabbed the back of your neck and waist, pulling you in and smashing your lips together. you kissed back feverishly, holding the sides of his face and starting to slowly grind against his thigh. he tasted like minty rain and you loved every bit of it. after nearly a minute straight, you pulled away, taking a deep catching breath. you were so caught up against his lips you didn't notice the small trail of blood soaking into his shirt collar.

"ramírez—" you began, but he kissed you once more, just as deeply but as quick as a peck.

"thank you for the help," he replied in a low rumble. "i think i've got it from here."

you jumped up, remembering the report. you started to apologize before he grabbed your hand, squeezing it once.

"i'll be here. don't worry, i'll wait for you."

you nodded, closing his door behind you. it felt like high school prom! you cheered to yourself, throwing punches and kicking the air. who knew it was that easy?!

[daydreamgoddess14]

Life After Richmond pt. 4

MASTERLIST

A Jason Sudeikis multi-chapter RPF w/a reader insert OFC. No use of y/n l/n.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Callie landed at Heathrow to rain, a lot of rain. Fortunately the car Apple had provided was ready and waiting for her. She went straight to her sister’s flat to drop off her suitcase. It was stupidly early, thanks to her overnight flight and Beth was waiting with breakfast. The sisters hugged tightly. Callie ate and planned to take a quick nap while Beth headed to work. She had a rare Saturday evening off so they made plans to go out that night. Callie fired off a message in their group chat to let Jason and Brett know she’d landed and invited them out that night. When she woke up at lunchtime, they’d switched it up and invited her and Beth to their pre-planned night out to a karaoke bar. She’d gone to raid Beth’s fridge when the door buzzer went off. She checked the video doorbell to see Jason on the doorstep so buzzed him in. She was head first in her suitcase trying to find something more appropriate to wear than the t-shirt she’d fallen asleep in when he pushed at the slightly ajar front door.

“Hey, you here?”

“Yeah, hang on, I’ll be right out.” she replied, slightly breathless. She’d just have to put her yoga leggings back on. Fine, had the top offered a bit more coverage. Instead she felt very exposed, the soft materials clinging to her. “Sorry, I’ve only just woken up.”

“We finished early today - don’t usually do Saturdays so I said to Brett I’d swing by and see you. He gave me Beth’s address.”

“Ahh that’s fine, she’s working for a few more hours anyway.” They hovered awkwardly, not quite standing far enough apart but also not standing directly in each other's space. Callie stepped forwards with a small smile to hug him, he willingly met her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Good to see you.”

“You too, not quite as long as 6 months this time though.”

“Long enough.” he murmured against her hairline. “Brett’s just finishing up on set, want to go and get him for lunch?”

“Yesss, definitely I’m starving, I’ll just get changed. Make yourself at home.” She moved away and headed for the spare room to fight again with her suitcase. A pair of jeans and a Star Wars t-shirt later, she was ready to go. They walked to the nearest tube station and Callie led Jason through the maze of tunnels to the correct platform. The train was hot and crowded, each bump along the track pushed Callie closer to him until he put a hand on her hip to steady her and keep her from getting pulled along with the crowd leaving the train. She could feel the fire on her skin where his fingertips caught the edge of her top and brushed against the exposed skin and had to look away so he couldn’t see the flush in her cheeks or the rush of breath she let out. Finally, they were pushed out into the sunlight again at their destination where Brett was fortunately waiting for them within a few meters. Callie hugged him and let him lead her to a cafe a few doors down with outdoor seating. She chose to sit next to Brett in order to put a table's distance between her and Jason, but it meant she’d have to look directly at him. With his baseball cap pulled low, he already had sunglasses shielding his eyes. She grabbed her glasses from her bag to similarly hide her eyes. While they chatted happily, she sent a quick message to Laura confirming she’d landed.

‘I got here OK, only to be killed by the looks Jason keeps throwing my way 🥵. Holy crap. WHY DID WE HAVE THAT CONVERSATION RIGHT BEFORE I LEFT? WHY IS THAT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT?’

She stuffed the phone out of sight and tucked into her sandwich while Jason and Brett talked around her.

“You ok?” Brett nudged her elbow, “I’ve never known you this quiet.”

“I’m fine, just a bit of jet lag. Hence the sunnies.” She spoke to Brett but was watching Jason who had kept looking her way, she’d watched him throughout most of the meal, never quite knowing whether his eyes were on her. Checking his watch, Brett suggested that they leave as they’d be seeing each other again in just a few hours anyway. He left the table to pay the bill. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jason said softly,

“Those glasses ain’t doing shit babe, but if you want to pretend to hide where you’re looking then that’s fine. I know where I've been looking all afternoon.” He smirked a little as she blushed, she felt the heat pool in her stomach at the deep, husky tone of his voice but was saved from responding by Brett coming back to the table.

“Ready to go? Cal, do you want us to get you back to Beth’s?”

“Don’t be an idiot, I’m perfectly capable, thank you. I’ll see you both later.” She stood quickly and waved in their general direction rather than getting drawn into another hug from Jason. She headed down to the underground, out of the sun and out of Jason's eyeline at last.

By the time Beth got home shortly after Callie, she found Callie wringing her hands.

"It just feels like something has changed somehow. It's like it's all suddenly supercharged. And I can't escape him, and I'm not sure I want to? But I don't know what to do with that information?" Beth had barely walked through the door when Callie started bombarding her. 

"Woah, relax, open some wine and take a breath." Beth held her hands up. "Right, first of all, what time are we off out? So I know where to pitch the advice and how long we've got."

"Meeting them any time after 8 at that new karaoke place."

"Right, so we can be fashionably late if need be. Let's take this a point at a time, you've suddenly realised that you're wildly attracted to Jason?" Callie nodded. "That's not new news sweetheart. Second, you see him today and things are weird?" Callie nodded again. "Again, not news. Of course things are fucking weird! You flirt like mad all day long and then switch to work mode. You're both dancing around each other and neither of you are making a move. You push, he pulls and visa versa, you're in this constant dance of seeing who's going to 'crack' first." Callie deflated into her wine with a sigh and sat in silence for a few minutes.

"You're right." She finally admitted. "I'm overthinking and self sabotaging and I need to chill the fuck out. Either something or nothing will happen and I do have control over it all." Beth smiled at her sister.

"Atta girl. Don't let what happened with that dickhead make you doubt yourself or what you're worthy of. Jason seems to be a really genuine and lovely guy. It's as simple as that."

"I know. I mean, I don't know what to do about being so stupidly attracted to him that I can't breathe, but one step at a time, eh? God I swear he was out to kill me today. He was doing it on purpose."

"The cure for that is to drink until you don't notice and wind him up in equal measure." Beth laughed. 

"Well then I'm fucked because I'll be utterly wasted and will probably spill the beans to him. I can't imagine how much alcohol I'd need to not think he's hot!" Callie looked horrified. 

"Maybe that would be the perfect outcome! Shut up and drink up. I haven't had a night out in ages, let's get ready to gooo!" Beth poured them both another glass and pulled her sister out of the chair. With Beth surging into action,  Callie found herself the victim of a sisterly takeover. "If he's having fun with these little games and his sunglasses and putting his hand on your hip, then you can push back too! Let's see if he can take as good as he gives, yeah? You're gonna look so, so fit tonight, he's gonna wish he'd made a move already!" Callie sat cross-legged on the bed, looking somewhat sceptical.

"I dunno about that, Beth. I don't have your confidence! I just end up looking like a fool. Also I could be reading this entirely wrong, he might not even be remotely attracted to me."

'Ahh, why on earth do you think we're drinking right now? False confidence, baby! Just enough to give you a bit of a swing in your step, and then you can avoid him most of the night and have fun! I think you’ll know within about 5 seconds whether he’s into you. And if you’re too blind to see it then I’m not. Were his little lunchtime games not indication enough?" Callie conceded and went along with Beth's masterplan. She let Beth help to choose her outfit, help with a little extra makeup than she'd normally wear, and was persuaded into the shoes which made her calf muscles and glutes ache. They finished a bottle and a half of wine and poured into their Uber with Beth doing a "Two and a half drink Callie is super flirty and fit Callie!" chant. It was nearer 9 when they arrived at the bar, Callie called Brett, who came out to take them through to the private room available to them. She immediately spotted Jason at the far end of the bar and could see that he'd also seen her, she held her hand up in a small wave which he returned. She let Brett get them a drink first and then let him introduce her to just about everyone in the room. The route he took meant they wouldn't actually get around to Jason and Brendan until the end of the tour. Callie felt eyes on her at every point they stopped - hugs with most of the team cast, when she had Kola and Phil on either side of her, a few minutes with James reminiscing about old Channel 4 TV shows. The closer they got to the far end of the bar, the more Callie's confidence grew. The final stop off was with Hannah and Juno. Brett left them to 'girl talk' while he went to get more drinks.

"Oh, thank god he’s gone for a minute, I thought I was going to have to talk in code!" Beth breathed. "You're playing a blinder, Cal. I'm surprised you haven't spontaneously combusted. Oooh, the heat!" Callie paused in talking to Juno to look straight ahead past Beth. She caught Jason's eye and smiled briefly before looking away and devoting her attention back to Juno.

"I'm glad you've noticed too! As soon as you guys walked in, it was like someone had lit a fire in here!" Hannah giggled.

"He has definitely not been subtle." Juno added. 

"Alright, alright. I'm trying not to overthink this, so I'm trying to not give a shit whether he's looking or not. I feel like a fucking teenager. I need to go and say hi. I've seen everyone except him, and I haven't met Brendan yet and I’m dying to meet him. I'm going in, ladies. Wish me luck."

"You don't need it. I'm putting you down for a song though, OK babe? Don't worry, I won't stuff you with a Whitney number, we save those for Han." Juno added Callie to the karaoke app and she left the three ladies engrossed in choosing a song. Callie swayed her hips gently as she walked over to the bar, trying to exude elegance and confidence. 

"Here she is, thought you weren’t gonna come and say hi," Jason teased. He greeted her as usual, with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. He held her for an extra second, just long enough to whisper in her ear; "you look beautiful." She shivered as his breath caught her ear, and she was certain he must have noticed.

"Just saving the best til last, obviously," she smiled before turning to Brendan, "So that must be you, I’m so excited to finally meet you. Jason and Brett talk about you constantly. I swear they are both head over heels in love with you." Brendan welcomed her warmly while Jason laughed into his drink. 

"I've heard a lot about you too. Congrats on the book - and the show. They're so excited to be working on it. I have to keep reminding them to finish off here first!"

"Thank you. Yeah, I might have to come to you for advice on coping with them. I don't want to get into a 'don't feed the gremlins after midnight' situation." Callie talked with Brendan and Jason for a while, Jason's arm had stretched across her back so he could put his hand on the bar and she leaned into it slightly to relieve the pressure on her feet. Brendan was just about to excuse himself when Hannah's voice carried across the room via the microphone. 

"Callie darling, it's your turn."

"Ah crap. I'd hoped Juno was joking." Brendan shook his head,

"They never joke about karaoke. You should get up there - it's worse when one of them has to come and find you."

"That’s true, he’s right. What have they got you singing?" Jason asked, handing her a drink. 

"No idea, but I think I'll need this, thank you." She raised her glass and reluctantly moved away from Jason. Beth, Hannah, and Juno had chosen a Taylor Swift song, clearly with Beth's input and gentle direction. Callie froze for a moment on the small stage, quickly reading ahead the first few lines so she knew which song was about to be her downfall. The song was ‘Dress’, which Jason had already caught her singing along to once before. The lyrics had seemed pretty apt at the time anyway, but now, they were a damn neon sign above her head. Callie shook off the dread and gave it her all. After a few drinks she did enjoy a bit of karaoke so it’s not like she’d been dragged into it. She made sure to avoid looking over at the bar, but the lyrics were so overt that there was no need to add fuel to the fire anyway. She finished the song with a little bow and bounced down the steps into Hannah's waiting arms. Enveloped in a girl's hug, she felt on top of the world. For a karaoke bar, the group didn't spend much time singing, so she was quickly whisked away to the dance floor. There was just enough time to deposit her empty glass on the bar. As she turned to leave, Jason held her elbow. 

"That's the second time I've heard you sing that."

"Hmm. It's a good one."

"You should go and dance, Callie, before they send a search party." She held his gaze for a moment longer. Had he used her name on purpose? Say my name, and everything just stops. She dismissed the thought and gave his arm a squeeze before heading off to dance. She spent well over an hour in the throng of the crowd, dancing hard with her friends. Song after song, she cheered and shouted for the ones who jumped up to do karaoke and she sang at the top of her lungs until she was hoarse. Eventually she gestured to Beth that she was going to the bar, and escaped the group. She headed back to the bar using her hands to try and fan some air to her face. She leaned into where Jason sat to catch her breath. He automatically wrapped an arm around her waist and she pressed into his side with her arm over his shoulders. With him sitting on a barstool, they were nearly the same height. 

"Thank you for inviting us, this is such a good place!" She had to lean in close to speak into his ear, her breath tickling on his neck. He handed her a bottle of water which she gratefully took, while he continued talking with Billy and Phil. Her feet were really starting to hurt. She fidgeted uncomfortably and he twisted in the seat so that she could stand between his knees and rest more against the chair. Her hand moved to his thigh to hold herself steady and she listened to their conversation. With Jason directly behind her, his voice carried over her shoulder making her shiver. 

“Hey, you should come too Callie?” Billy pulled her into the conversation.

“What’s that, sorry?”

“We’re going to the football tomorrow, do you wanna come?”

“Billy, I’m not sure Callie’s a football fan, plus she’s probably majorly jet lagged.”

“Who’s playing?” She asked curiously, she was an armchair fan but didn’t follow religiously.

“Arsenal and Liverpool.”

“I don’t want to tag along if I’m not wanted-” she started to say before Jason interrupted,

“You are, I just… wasn’t sure it was your thing?”

“I’m a closet Liverpool fan actually, my Nanna supported them. Plus, they were quite the team of heartthrobs in my teenage years.”

“Stevie G?” Phil questioned,

“Stevie, Xabi Alonso… that Champions League miracle final in Istanbul? Oh my god. I cried so much. Anyway, now I just love Jurgen Klopp.”

“What a man,” Billy agreed, “you’re coming then? Maybe you’ll get to meet him.”

“I couldn’t, I’d be too starstruck. Just being in the same stadium as Mo Salah might kill me off.” They laughed, told her to sort the logistics with Brendan who was organising the outing and went off for another round of karaoke.

“And there you go surprising me again.” Jason muttered. She slid off the seat and turned to face him, not quite realising the proximity until she’d turned around. 

“Keeping you on your toes.” She smiled, taking a slightly shaky breath. Still standing between his knees with her hands on his thighs and at eye level Callie felt suddenly sober and nervous. She quickly realised that she didn’t really want to draw such attention to herself in a room full of his closest friends and colleagues, she knew that if anyone looked across at them in that moment, they’d look very much like a couple and she wasn’t sure how she’d answer those questions should they arise. “I think I’m going to… go.” She decided firmly. He couldn’t hide the disappointment, but nodded anyway.

“If that’s what you want.”

“I’m exhausted and-” she paused, looking away from him, his hand moved to her hip.

“And?” Callie was about to respond when Beth joined them,

“Oooh four drink touchy feely Callie is here!” Callie rolled her eyes and reluctantly went to move. Jason held her hips tightly for a moment longer,

“Get some sleep sweetheart, this ain’t a race.” He kissed her forehead and let her move, then he stepped down from the barstool to hug Beth. “I think you’re the one taking touchy feely Callie home, Beth.”

“That’s a shame, you’d love her!” Beth laughed, swaying on the spot, “She can’t keep her hands to herself!” Callie covered her face with her hand.

“Fuck me Beth, can you not? Come on, time to go.” She took Beth’s hand, gave Jason a brief smile and waved in the general direction of the crowd. The air outside was fresh and cool. She hadn’t realised just how warm it was inside. She bundled Beth into a cab and once home, put her into bed with a glass of water and ibuprofen. Wide awake and full of giddiness, Callie made a cup of tea before going to bed. She took off her makeup and changed her clothes, sliding under the covers. Jason had sent a message while she’d been looking after Beth,

‘Hope you got back ok. I’ll pick you up at 1pm tomorrow so you can declare your love to Jurgen Klopp.’

‘All fine here, thanks. I’d get a shirt before the match but I plan on sleeping for the next 12 hours. As wonderful as Klopp is, he just can’t pull off the hoodie and baseball cap combo the way some others can.’

‘It’s a look that takes dedication. See you tomorrow, sleeping beauty.’  

She shut off her phone and fell into a deep sleep. She missed Beth going out to work, missed breakfast, and emerged with just enough time to shower and sling on a pair of jeans and a top before the football. She jumped into the waiting minibus at exactly 1pm with a half eaten croissant in hand and sunglasses on to hide her tired eyes.

“Alright Callie?” The boys chimed as she joined them. 

“Hey everyone. Good night, sore heads?” She queried jumping into the first spare seat she found next to James. She received various groans and sighs in reply. Brendan and Jason were across the narrow aisle and she lifted her glasses to say hello properly.

“Caught up on your sleep?” Jason asked.

“God, never. Always happy for more.” she yawned unexpectedly. He reached around Brendan and put a paper bag into her lap. “What’s this?”

“I had a little time this morning.” She brushed the croissant crumbs away and dipped into the bag, pulling out a Liverpool home kit shirt with ‘SALAH’ on the back. She shrieked with glee and pulled it straight on over her t-shirt.

“Oh my god, thank you! I can’t reach you to hug you.”

“Later. Hope it’s ok?”

“It’s better than ok!” She beamed. The match was exciting and frenetic. There were none of the tensions of the previous night though, she was completely comfortable with Jason and they fit back together easily both shouting their way through the match. She could almost forget that they’d been one dark corridor or moment alone from a kiss. Had Beth not interrupted, she’d have put money on it happening, it had felt so inevitable. After the match, she got to meet Klopp, Salah and a handful of other players. The Ted cast were treated like royalty. Brendan’s super bus dropped her back off at the flat in the early evening and she collapsed on the sofa with Beth to watch a movie and relax. 

She took Monday off and spent the day at the flat writing on and off, sharing ideas with Brett and Jason in their group chat and blasting 00’s pop songs from her laptop. They were most of the way through outlining the first season of the show but they were having trouble moving into the final section. There were some storylines which Callie wasn’t willing to give up on, and she was fed up with fighting over it. She suggested that she go to set on Tuesday, and then they'd planned the Wednesday to Friday to be working sessions at Jason’s with the Ted cast taking a long weekend off. Early on Tuesday morning, she packed up her bag and headed to Richmond where a few of the cast and crew were already working. She set up on a bench near the makeup trailer and dived into her work. The morning air was cold and she’d only put a thin jumper on, she looked around for someone to pinch a jacket from - she’d already seen Phil and Cristo but they’d gone off to film.

“Looking for something or someone?” a voice called behind her. 

“Aha, you actually.” she grinned. Jason was dressed for a set day rather than a filming day, hat and hoodie firmly in place.

“Found me. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, just cold. Is there a jacket I can borrow?” He pulled off his hoodie and handed it over.

“Is this ok for now? If you want to come with me, we can get something better if you want?” Callie pulled it over her head, his scent surrounding her and making her dizzy.

“No, this is perfect, thanks.”

“It suits you. If you want to take a break, I can show you around - get you a bit of background so you know why Brett’s pushing for certain things?” he alluded to their ongoing battle over the storyline.

“Hmm. If you can show me a good reason why it won’t work, then I might be persuaded. I’m not going down without a fight though?”

“I would never expect you to.” He laughed and she followed him through the set. She spent much of the day by his, Chip’s or Brendan’s side watching them work. She took it all on board and Jason watched proudly as she made notes and constantly asked questions. They were filming late into the evening so she stuck around, joining the cast for takeout as the day drew to a close. Brett offered to walk her to the tube station so she took him up on it, hoping to make peace. 

“It matters to the story, Brett, it’s got to happen - it’s one of the main plotlines!”

“But how can we fit it in? It also doesn’t move the story forward at all.”

“It adds context, it provides background.”

“We can show that in other ways. Cal, trust me - there’s no way we can script this without it being a distraction rather than a benefit.”

“I don’t believe you, there’s got to be a way.” 

“You’re driving me mad with this.”

“I’m driving you mad? Look, let’s go through it again tomorrow. Jason can referee. I’m not trying to be difficult, I’m trying to understand.”

“Jason is not an impartial ref and you bloody know it.”

“He’s one of your best mates.”

“And yours too from what I can see. Maybe more than.”

“Don’t start, there’s nothing going on there.”

“Not yet.” He griped.

“My train’s coming, I’m going home, I don’t need to stick around to have you lay into me for something that hasn’t even happened.”

“Well you must be blind if you think it’s not going to happen.”

“I’ll make that decision, thanks. See you tomorrow.” Callie boarded the train without a second glance. She went to bed, ignoring the unread messages on her phone and still angry at Brett. 

The next morning, she took the tube again to the address Jason had sent through. She returned Jason’s hoodie and while they tried to work, it just wasn’t flowing. The argument with Brett was still brewing in the background and added an underlying tension through the day. They worked their way through other plot points, potential future season arcs but it was stilted and strained. In the end, Callie held up her hands.

“I’m going home, I think that’s enough for today, don’t you?” she said firmly, admitting defeat after Brett had nixed another of her ideas.

“First time we’ve agreed all day.” He rolled his eyes, Callie scoffed and shook her head.

“Right. I’ll see you both later.” She was out the door before Brett had even moved from the table, slamming it hard behind her.

“Don’t be too hard on her, she’s new to all of this.”

“I’m not being too hard, she’s being too… flippant. She thinks she can just do whatever she wants with no consequences.”

“Maybe that’s true, but she’ll figure it out in her own time. In the meantime, we wait.” Brett frowned, not entirely sure whether either of them ware still talking about the show.

Callie climbed into bed without waiting up for Beth. She exchanged messages with Laura who suggested they take a break to Mexico once Callie returned from London.

‘Pack a new bag and whoosh, off we go. A week in Cancun, sun, sea and plenty of margaritas. No phone for you - no work at all for you. Just a week off.’

‘Sounds like bliss. Let’s see how tomorrow goes but one more battle with Brett and I’m going to need to get away from him. He keeps going on about how I can’t have everything I want, my decisions affect others blah blah blah.’

‘Are you sure he’s talking about the show?’ 

‘How’d you mean?’

‘You’ve got one guy in New York you’re actually dating, but you’re having your cake and eating it in London with whatever is still not happening with Jason. Who has not long gone through a shitshow breakup of his own. Have you considered that Brett’s trying to protect his friend?’

Callie dropped the phone on the bed, so that was it. It wasn’t the plot really - it was Brett disapproving of Callie while she tried to make sense of her feelings. She’d been so desperate to push her own feelings away and pretend that it was just a crush on Jason that the real strength of those feelings had overwhelmed her completely. 

The next morning at Jason’s, Brett was nowhere to be seen.

“He’ll be here later, he had some stuff this morning.” Jason explained. They worked throughout the morning until Callie couldn’t ignore her stomach rumbling any longer and started making lunch.

“I’m not just going to turn up at each of your many houses and keep cooking for you, you know?” She teased after plating up eggs benedict for them both.

“You haven’t seen my place in LA yet. You could roller skate around that kitchen.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I’d probably break an ankle. I’m not built for anything that involves balance.”

“You’re a great cook. I’m just reaping the benefits, not taking advantage.”

“Hmnm. They could be the same thing.”

“If I were taking advantage, you’d be here all day every day.” Callie hesitated with her fork part way to her mouth.

“I think those would be completely different circumstances.” She said at last, the front door making her jump. Jason looked at her a moment longer and then turned to Brett.

“Hey man, have you eaten? We saved you some.”

“Thanks, no I haven’t yet. Alright Cal?” He took in Jason and Callie sitting closely side by side at the kitchen island.

“Yeah, you?” He got a plate and pulled Callie’s ponytail as he passed behind her. “Wanker.” She muttered with a smile.

“You pair actually done any work so far today?” He asked.

“Loads without you here.” She teased. He raised an eyebrow and then closed his eyes as he tried Callie’s hollandaise sauce.

“When you’re ready for a new career, I suggest cooking.”

“I’ll bear that in mind when my TV career crashes and burns. Beth and I are cooking tonight if you both want to come?” Both nodded. “I’m going to Mexico with Laura next week once I get back to New York.”

“Lifestyles of the rich and famous.” Jason smiled.

“Hardly. She suggested a break and I figured I should make the most of her not screaming at me about my deadlines. No phones, no work. Just margaritas and sun.”

“Beth can come here if it’s easier? More space to cook?”

“That’s a good idea actually, it’s closer to the restaurant.” Callie called her sister while Brett finished eating.

The afternoon passed without incident, both Brett and Callie on their best behaviour. Laura’s suggestion had opened Callie’s eyes to what the real issue might be so she was willing to cut him a little slack until she could get him alone. Beth arrived with arms full of ingredients and she and Callie got to work on making fresh pasta and meringue kisses. Jason looked across the kitchen to see Callie kneading pasta dough with flour up to her elbows, in her hair and on her forehead, stood next to Beth, both of them bouncing to the music Callie had chosen. “I write to hip hop Jason, I do not cook to hip hop. Pop is for cooking.” Mariah Carey’s Fantasy sounded throughout the downstairs with Callie and Beth both singing along at various points with spoon microphones. “But it's just a sweet sweet fantasy baby. When I close my eyes, you come and you take me. It's so deep in my daydreams, but it's just a sweet sweet fantasy baby.” They sang in fits of laughter. They worked well together, Beth offering advice to Callie about not overfilling the tortellini, not cutting too close to the edge, and the best way to twist them into shape. 

Brett offered to pop to the shops to get a couple of bottles of wine and Callie took the opportunity to go with him and clear the air. Beth meanwhile, took her opportunity to get to know Jason a little better.

“I meant to thank you.” She said, stirring the sauce for the pasta.

“What for?”

“Since you turned up at the restaurant all that time ago, she’s just been doing so much better. I know a lot of that is just time and recovering from the break up, it was so fresh when you met her. Honestly, the week before she was an absolute wreck. But a lot of it is down to that day she sent that daft tweet and you replied. You guys seem to have a genuine connection, it’s been so good for her.”

“That’s so lovely to hear, it really is. It’s been a privilege to watch her get better and more confident and happy.”

“You know she likes you? Really likes you?” Beth said quietly, knowing that Callie would likely kill her for overstepping. “Please, don’t tell her we’ve had this conversation. I just… she’s her own worst enemy sometimes. She’ll just carry on in this weird limbo with you until you get bored and meet someone and then she’ll be kicking herself for not doing anything about it when she had the chance. That’s all I’m going to say, do with that what you want - or not - if that’s also the case. Just let her down gently if it is.” Jason didn’t say anything for a long time, he concentrated on finding plates, cutlery and clearing the table.

“I promise you Beth, I’d never hurt her. I’d also never get bored with her.” Beth smiled softly and nodded, hearing the front door.

Brett and Callie had walked 5 minutes round the corner to the nearest mini supermarket. It took a while for either of them to feel ready to talk, Callie felt the apology on the tip of her tongue but couldn’t quite force it out.

“I don’t mean to be so hard on you.” Brett admitted. “It’s fucking cutthroat, I want you to be prepared that just because this has been so easy and seamless and Apple are bending over backwards, doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. They have an empire to protect, you’re just a cog in the network.”

“I know. And I’m grateful, to them and to you and Jason. I don’t intend to let this pass me by.”

“Can I ask you something?” She looked over to him and nodded for him to continue. “What’s going on with you and Jason?”

“Jump straight in the deep end there, babe.” She laughed. “Nothing. I already told you that the other day.” He looked skeptical. “I do like him, ok. I really do. But I am a normal person, trying to live a normal life. I don’t want to rock the boat, I don’t want to risk this working relationship and I really, really don’t want to lose one of the best friends I’ve made since… well, you probably. I have Beth, Laura, you and now Jason. If I do something stupid, make a stupid move or comment or worse, and I lose that core friendship… I don’t even want to think about it. The four of you have built me back up from absolute rock bottom. I will not risk that.”

“Not even for the possibility of something better?” He questioned.

“The price to pay is too high.”

“So you’ll just carry on with this game, while seeing that boring bloke in New York?” She shrugged.

“I don’t know, Brett. I’m just taking things step by step. I’m trying really hard to be seeing someone else, but all I see is him.” Brett took the bag of wine from her and put his arm over her shoulder.

“Fucking hell mate. You do need a holiday.”

“You’re telling me. Now, please keep this just between us? I’ll figure it out in my own time, and if that happens to be too late then so be it.” He rolled his eyes, clearly not agreeing with her but accepting her request.

“Have you two made up now?” Beth asked innocently while adding salad to a big bowl.

“For now. Til he pisses me off again.” Brett took out the wine and handed it to Jason who had glasses lined up. Dinner was a much happier and more animated affair than the previous day and a half had been, the wine and laughter flowed as they discussed previous terrible relationships they were finally able to laugh about.

“Do you remember that bloke who made me call him Chef in bed?!” Beth reminded Callie through tears.

“Oh god, he was awful! He was horrible - why on earth did you go out with him?!”

“One of the waitresses said he was lovely. He was anything but lovely!”

“He literally shouted at you during sex, Beth! During sex. ‘Call me Chef when I’m going down on you!’” Callie said in a gruff impersonation before she doubled over with her hands over her face, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Both of you have been out with some right morons. And I didn’t even meet most of them.” Brett stated.

“Callie wins though. She married a gay man for a green card.”

“Yep, thanks for reminding me. His husband is also far prettier than me.”

“That’s true, he is a beautiful man.”

“They’ve got another baby coming.”

“No way! That’s so cute. Don’t tell mum. She’ll launch into her-”

“‘That could have been you Callie, but you turned that man gay! You could have babies on a farm!’” Callie’s impression of her mother was uncanny, causing Beth to choke on her wine.

“Babies on a fucking farm.” She sniggered.

“Don’t remind me, I’ve got to go and see her at the weekend. I’m going to have flashbacks to tonight and I won’t be able to hold it together.”

“Show your face, make nice and get outta there.” Beth shared their motto of ‘how to visit mum’.

“I can push through it knowing I’m going to be on a beach drinking tequila in five days, baby.”

“Ugh don’t, I’m jealous. I wonder if I can get a tan from the lights on the hot pass?” Beth wondered.

“Well don’t bother texting to tell me, I won’t see it. You’ll just see my tan get progressively better by checking Laura’s Instagram.” Callie teased.

“Tan getting better, you getting drunker, the bikini getting smaller. I remember those holidays. Next time, give me more notice so I can come too!”

“The bikini doesn’t get any smaller nowadays, I’m too old for that.” Callie just managed to clamp her hand over Beth’s mouth before she launched into a rendition of ‘get your tits out for the lads’. “Nooo thank you, I will not be getting them out.”

“Just let me live my life through you please Callie, that’s all I ask.”

“Live your own life, Top Chef. Come on, time to clear up. You’ve finished all the wine and you’re getting rowdy.” Callie helped clear plates and started washing up while Brett kept Beth occupied. Jason worked on clearing the kitchen and bringing things over to Callie at the sink.

“You don’t need to do any of that, you know?”

“It’s ok, we can’t wreck your kitchen and then leave you to it.”

“So it’s a no phone holiday?” 

“Yep, gonna miss me?"

"Obviously."

"Think you’ll cope for a week without my daily gifs and spam?”

“Not sure I could last a day.” She laughed,

“Oh you could. You’ll be begging me to never text you again by the time I get back. Silence is golden.”

“You could never. I’d give it a day before you crack.” 

“You’re probably right. Where would I get my new playlists from? I don’t trust Spotify, I prefer my personally curated Sudeikis collection.”

“Damn right. I’ll send you a holiday list.” Callie’s face lit up,

“Really? You’re the best, don’t listen to what anyone else says.” She bumped his shoulder. 

"So, the last working session tomorrow?"

"Yeah, we should. Now that Brett and I are buddies again we might actually get something done."

"I mean, we can try at least."

"You're a bad influence. I promised Laura I was here to work. All I've done is drink, watch football and hang out with you."

"Worth it though?"

"Totally worth it." She finished washing the dishes and reached up to kiss his cheek. "See you tomorrow." 

Brett walked Callie and Beth out and to the tube, saying goodbye to Beth and making plans to pick up coffees and breakfast with Callie on their way back in the morning. Callie eventually flopped into Beth's bed while she made them tea. 

"So I cleared the air with Brett." She called out. 

"I gathered. All ok now?"

"Yeah. He was worried about Jason, worried about me. I told him where my head was and I think he gets it now."

"That's good. He's a good friend."

"The very best. I told him, you,  Laur, he and now Jason have become this core source of strength for me. I would not have gotten through the last year without you guys."

"And we all love you too my darling." Callie snuggled up to Beth, "I miss you when you're not here."

"I miss you too. You need to visit more." 

"I will now you're in New York and not with a dickhead anymore." Callie fell asleep in Beth's bed just as they'd spent so many nights as children. The next morning, she met Brett as planned and they turned up at Jason's together with coffee and breakfast. They worked hard for most of the day before Callie had to get her train to her mums. 

"So," she started, packing up her laptop, "You guys finish here next week?"

"That's right, the last shooting day is Thursday. I'm pretty sure there's a wild weekend planned, and then I fly to LA on Sunday."

"Same as me I think, but different flights?" Brett added.

"LA for a month?"

"About that, it depends on the kids and where they need me to be, I haven't got a flight back to New York planned yet." 

"OK, and then the real work starts?"

"Oh, you're gonna love contract negotiations, Cal." Brett laughed, Jason pointed at him. 

"Dead right. We've got about 6 weeks to get our shit together, and then the real work starts. Fortunately, not telling Apple Dan when I'm back does mean we can get an extra few days if we need them."

"Better keep that one quiet." Brett suggested. 

"Sounds like a plan."

"I'm just going to get us a couple of beers,  J. Back in 10. Callie, be good sweetheart. Have a great trip to Mexico."

"Love you Brett, see you later." She accepted his bear hug happily and watched him skip down the steps in the direction of the shop.

"And I'll see you in a few weeks as well." She turned to Jason with open arms. 

"Won't be long till we're getting this show going for real." He held her tightly. 

"It's been a fun few months planning, I've had a good time."

"Me too." Neither of them moved away, Callie stayed with her arms anchored around Jason's waist. "See you soon, beautiful." He kissed the top of her head and let her go. She pulled her overnight bag up onto her shoulder and headed down the steps with a far heavier step than Brett had. At the bottom, she turned to blow him a kiss before making her way to the tube station. Jason watched until she was out of sight, by which time, Brett had returned with beer.

"You'll see her soon. Bloody romcommunist." Brett teased, pushing Jason back into the house.

[all-rock-and-roll-is-homosexual]

UK trip Day 1 - Good Morning Britain

After an 8 hour flight across the atlantic shoved into a tiny airline seat that made my ass hurt, not having slept since about 4 AM the day previous (is that US time or UK time? I don't know, and at this point it doesn't matter) running only on shitty airline food, coffee, and sheer adrenaline I was set loose upon the UK.

Immediately getting off the plane at Gatwick I found my phone had no data service. Oh well! I'm sure that can be solved easily lol! I make my way to the train terminal where I try to figure out how to make it through the gate, and upon succeeding I head down to the platform...only to get on the wrong train.

With help from the lovely insatiable ones and the wifi aboard the train, I make it to Brighton. Where I explain in my best pitiful American tourist voice that I had just arrived in the country and taken the wrong train to a man in an information booth.

He helpfully points me to a train stopped at platform 8 (Which was already boarding) and says it will take me to my original destination. Which was St. Leonard's.

I hurry to board the train at Platform 8 which soon departs, and I sit and enjoy the trip through the southern English countryside. Much to my excitement it passes through Hayward's Heath, the hometown of Brett Anderson, whose band, Suede, is obviously the whole point of this journey. I don't know if you've noticed, but I think Suede are a very good band, and I kind of like them a bit.

During the ride I try my best to figure out my phone to no avail, but still figure it could be something very easy to work out (lol). I chat with my friends and enjoy the ride.

Upon finally arriving in St. Leonard's I realize, oh shit, I actually don't know how to get to my hotel and without a phone I don't have a way to navigate. So I have to stop into a little bookstore on high street and ask the man there if he can direct me.

"Hi, I'm sorry, I've just arrived and I'm trying to find the Highlands Inn Hotel on Boscobel road. Could you give me directions by any chance?" I ask.

"Boscobel road?" he echoes, "I'm afraid you're a long way from there."

Just what I love to hear. He gives me directions, of which my ADHD addled brain can only remember a portion of. I thank him and then leave.

The whole Warrior Square section of St Leonard's is unbelievably charming and I wish I'd had more time to check it out because that little bookstore alone could have provided me with hours of entertainment. But right now, I am on a Mission.

I follow his directions and get caught up at Maze Hill road. Which is about where my memory fails me. I wander around the area a little bit and finally find another local, who I desperately approach.

"Excuse me, sorry, I'm trying to find Boscobel road?" I ask.

"I'm sorry I don't know where that is. I've heard of it, but I absolutely have no idea where it is! Sorry, I wish I could be of more help!" She replies.

"That's ok, thank you!"

Fuck. I try retrace what the old man in the bookshop told me. I head the direction I think matches what I remember best, up a very steep hill. My out of shape legs are screaming.

Just to make sure I'm going in the right direction, I ask two men going the same way for directions and they helpfully reply with directions and then decide to just tell me to follow them.

Embarrassingly, I fall behind them quickly, huffing and panting like I'm about to keel over. They stare at me concerned, but make no comment, instead pointing at the hotel once I'm within reach.

Finally, my reward awaited. It turns out, unlike the other members of the Insatiable Ones who were sensible and booked hotels like the Premier Inn in Hastings or at other hotels in St. Leonard's that were easy to find, I had to be the idiot and book my hotel based on aesthetic. The hotel that was buried deep in the town, and no one really knew much about.

Also, I'd had the brilliant idea to bring along only one pair of shoes, an unbroken in pair of Doc Martens. I make excellent life choices.

I stumble into the hotel and can't seem to find anyone at what I assumed was their front desk area. It was just a window that looked in on a bar area. Entering the bar, I found a man eating his lunch there and explained I was checking in. He was able to look up my reservation and found despite being three hours early a room was available for me.

I'm still not sure if he actually ran the place or was just in charge of certain parts of it, but he was also clearly doing actual work on the building as his work clothes were covered in paint. He was very nice though, and helped me bring my bag up to my room. Which was on the third floor. and up several steep flights of stairs. Cue more huffing and panting.

I was charmed by the fact that my room key was a literal skeleton key and the decor was suitably gothic. I was incredibly tempted to just take my shoes off and collapse on the bed, but I still had my phone to take care of.

Taking some time to connect to hotel wi-fi, I update all my friends and my mother about what's happening and then start to work trying to get it to connect to a UK data service. The Insatiable Ones suggest trying a UK simcard and Rachel in particular says they can be found at most corner stores and helpfully provides a map of close by stores I can try.

I can't place enough emphasis on how much I appreciate the outpouring of help my completely unprepared ass received from my friends, I am so moved and touched and just...honestly...a large part of this trip wouldn't have been possible without them. So much of this was almost a leap of faith, taking the plunge and hoping my friends would be there to hold me up. I am incredibly lucky to have such an amazing network of wonderful people willing to help me. I could really go on for ages about the Insatiable Ones.

Climbing back down the three flights of stairs and several steep hills I make it to a nearby corner store where I clumsily tell the man behind the counter what I want and he asks if I'm topping up, which I stare blankly in response to. He assumes this is a no. He's correct.

I hand him the money and take my sim card back to the hotel where i pop it into my phone and activate it only to find it does not work. Incredibly frustrated, I'm starting to panic that I won't get this settled before the show in Bexhill tomorrow.

The Insatiable Ones are so patient with me and so incredibly kind, and point me in the direction of a phone shop where I can maybe get my phone unlocked in which case the sim card will finally work. And if not that then maybe just getting a UK phone.

It's a thirty minute walk. Not with my fat little legs. I try calling an uber. Because that's exactly what a privileged American tourist would do. No uber in such a small town. I look up local taxi firms. I try calling. Oh fuck, my phone won't place calls!

Rachel centers me and points out that the hotel could place a call to a taxi for me. It breaks me from my panic just long enough to scurry downstairs and spit out a jumble of words approximating to what I assume translated to "the American needs a taxi."

Now, dear friends, interacting with me online is one thing where I am free to sit and take time to organize my thoughts, but it's another to interact with me in real life where I will just Say Things in whatever order due to my brain going too fast for my mouth.

Thankfully, my point was made and the guy from before helpfully placed a call to a local taxi and I found it would be an hour before I could get a taxi from them. Panicking again, I explained that would be too late as the phone place would close.

In an overwhelming act of kindness, he gave me a ride himself. and briefly I think to myself that getting into cars with strangers in another country is a really stupid idea, but just this once I will have to trust I'm not being an idiotic character in a horror story. And we tear off down the road with techno music blaring from his car stereo.

We arrive in Hastings and he helpfully deposits me at the phone store where I talk to the man behind the counter who is covered in intricate HR Giger style tattoos. I explain my situation and find they can't unlock my phone, so I am left with no option but to buy another phone. The cheapest they have is £95. It's much more than I'd like to spend, but it's an unfortunate necessity.

It eats up most of the cash I had, but it's worth it. I talk a little to him about Suede and about the upcoming concert in Bexhill and with the crisis taken care of, he points me in the direction of where I can get a taxi back to my hotel.

When I arrive back at the hotel I realize I haven't eaten since my flight. Not wanting to worry about climbing all those stairs and steep hills again, I simply decide to eat the complimentary digestive biscuits placed in my room and call it a night.

First day. Done.

[xiubaek-13]

The Busiest Night Manager In Seoul Part 1

Part of the Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa collaboration

Genre: Hotel AU, eventual smut.

Pairing: Night Manager Baekhyun x Hotel Guest Reader

Word Count: 3,932

Warnings: Christmas tree innuendo? Roleplay if you squint. Nothing really for this chapter, its mostly an intro to their characters.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this. There will be 3 parts to this short fic. I wanted to break it up a bit rather than drop a 15k monster on all of you.

You checked your booking information one last time before leaving for the airport. You’d gotten ready too early, a trait your mother had ingrained into your subconscious, at least you weren’t as extreme as her - she’d be at the airport 8 hours before the flight boarded, you were only a couple of hours ahead of schedule. Still not quite believing that you were off on an all expenses paid trip to Seoul, you shut the door behind you and rolled your suitcase towards the taxi that had just pulled up in front of your building. When you’d topped the sales board for most insurance policies in your branch last year you had been gifted a $100 voucher for dinner so it had come as a huge surprise that this year instead of a gift voucher, you received an envelope through the internal mailing system that contained a plane ticket, a 5 night hotel booking confirmation and details of a one day meeting that you were to attend on behalf of the company. 

After confirming that the trip was indeed real and not some sort of joke you’d looked the hotel up online and it was fancy with a capital F. You just knew you’d look out of place there. The Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa was a top tier, very expensive, luxury hotel. You had this image of all of the guests in their designer clothes, nary a hair out of place. Your personal style did not scream ‘I have lots of money’, not that you cared. You liked your style, it wasn’t bad, it would just stick out like a sore thumb in a place like that. 

The hotel had recently been renovated. You’d spent a decent portion of your flight to Seoul reading up on the new and improved Crimson Aurora. They offered a wide range of services, more than you’d seen on any hotel list that you’d stayed at before: 24 hr room service, on-site pool, spa, sauna, gym with personal trainer, yoga sessions, cocktail bar, celebrity chef, top of the line security, tour guides, live music. The list went on. Surely they were offering too much? How many employees did it have? It would have to be a lot to accommodate all of those services. 

You were due to arrive late at night, checking in around 11:30pm due to your flight times. You had been given instructions from one of the very helpful receptionists on how to contact the night manager once you arrived so that he could check you in and see you to your room.  While the taxi from the airport took you to your destination you rang the number you’d been provided with. After two rings the night manager answered. 

“Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa, Night Manager Baekhyun speaking. How may I be of assistance to you this evening?” His voice was soothing, the tone of it comforting. It made you feel like you were speaking to an old friend which kind of startled you.

Pulling your mind from the odd tangent it was headed down Do I know him? Surely not right? But his voice…it feels familiar… “Oh hi, I was told by one of the daytime receptionists to call this number when I was on my way to the hotel. I’m in the taxi from the airport right now.”

“Are you checking in for a stay with us?” He asked.

“Yes. I got stuck with a late flight. Christmas in July and all that. The driver says we’ll be arriving in about 15 minutes. Can you let me in once I arrive so I can check in? I’m sorry to be arriving so late at night.” You apologised. You knew that check in had technically finished hours ago but you’d specially organised the late check in after realising at the airport that your flight was delayed.

“It’s a very busy time for tourists, that's for sure.” He replied, not at all fussed by your late arrival.  “Ma’am if you could provide me with your booking reference I’ll have most of the check in process completed by the time you arrive.” He said kindly.

“Ok great. My booking reference is CHS-01004099.” You replied.

“Thank you ma’am. I’m just bringing the booking up now.” He hummed softly as he pulled up your booking information. The sound was pleasant to your ears but was not doing anything to help keep you awake. “You’re going to be spending a week with us. On behalf of Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa I hope you enjoy your stay.” You could hear the smile as he spoke. “Now when you arrive, walk up to the glass doors and press the white button on the left hand door frame. That will notify me of your arrival and I will come out to assist you with your bags and finalise the check in process.” He stated.

You nodded, then realised that duh, you were on the phone so he couldn’t see you, and spoke. “Thank you. See you soon then.” You hung up, stifling a yawn as you made sure you had all of your bags ready for when you pulled up to the hotel. 

***

“Ok you are all set,” He smiled warmly at you as he handed you your room key. “I’ll have Jinki, our bellboy, bring your bags up to your room in a moment. You’ll need to use the room key to access floors above the restaurant level, which is level 3. On behalf of the Crimson Aurora Hotel & Spa I’d like to welcome you and hope that your stay is everything you wish it to be.” He guided you through the hotel lobby and stood with you while you waited for one of the three elevators to arrive. 

You don’t know what you expected the night manager to look like but it sure as well wasn’t what had greeted you when you had arrived. In head to toe black his ash blonde hair stood out almost as much as his incredibly warm smile. He’d greeted you and helped you inside, his ring clad fingers taking your bags from you as you followed him to the reception desk. It had been difficult not to just stare at him, there was no denying that this night manager was handsome. If he’d noticed your lingering gaze on his face and the few too many undone buttons of his shirt, he made no comments about it. Maybe it was the jet lag setting in or maybe it was just him but you continually found yourself stealing glances at him during the entire check in process. Baekhyun had remained a consummate professional so either you weren't staring as much as you thought or he was ignoring it. 

He grinned and waved after you stepped into the elevator. "Sleep well. Just call the front desk if anything in your room isn't right." You nodded in thanks, a small smile creeping onto your face.

The bed in the room was so incredibly comfortable that as soon as your head hit the pillow you fell asleep. You didn't even hear the knock at the door when the bellboy arrived with your bags, nor the way he quietly opened the door and placed them just inside before leaving. The long flight coupled with the huge comfortable bed meant that you slept a lot longer than you had planned. You managed to wake up right before breakfast had finished for the day. One hurried shower later you arrived at the restaurant just before the breakfast buffet closed.  You’d read about this buffet on the flight over and the way it had been described made it a must on your ever growing list of things to see and experience while you were here. 

The review you’d read had been correct, if anything it had undersold on just how unbelievably good the food was. Every single thing that you had off that buffet was delicious to the point that the food was making you mad. Whoever they’d hired as the chef and kitchen staff were worth every cent, possibly more.

Once you finished eating you took yourself on a tour around the hotel grounds, past the gym where you saw a few people taking a class with a very enthusiastic instructor, the pool; manned by a seemingly disinterested pool boy, the massage parlour; which was manned by one overconfident man who winked at you as you wandered by, the yoga studio where a class had just finished, the beautiful gardens and a second restaurant spot. You found your way back to the main area of the hotel and passed through the bar lounge and games area before you came to a stop in the lobby. The hotel was beautiful and whoever had redecorated had done an amazing job. You had read in the information pack that the Kim Kibum (better known in the art world as Key) was the mastermind behind the interior decorating.

The rest of your day was not very busy. You took yourself on a tour around Seoul, taking in all of the sites, doing some shopping and eating some local foods. Tomorrow would be the day of your actual meeting so you worked out the building that you had to go to and the most efficient route between it and the hotel. You went back to your room to look over the schedule for the day as well as key points and topics to be covered. Most of it was boring pseudo sales crap but you made sure to read all of it, not wanting to be under prepared. You are an excellent sales person but you also like to be prepared for these sorts of things, not wanting anyone to surprise you and make you look like a fool.

***

Baekhyun POV 

“Yah Junmyeon! When are you gonna hire more staff? I can't keep doing this on my own every single night. There's too many jobs, too many guests and I'm the only one apart from Jinki who works the night shift.” He half whined down the phone at his friend and boss. He was tired. Tired of demanding shifts with little to no thanks. He needed at least one more staff member and one more security officer before his job could become smoother. He also needed the damn bartender and the musician to start already. He was being run ragged and if the issue didn’t resolve itself soon, he’d be in danger of burning out.

Ever since the refurbishment of the hotel Junmyeon had been busy searching for and hiring new staff. He only wanted the best - he had a vision of what his hotel could be and this was his chance to get it right. So far he had hired a world class celebrity chef, an incredibly attractive pool boy, a masseuse who was good at his job but would steal your heart, a flashy bartender and a new musician. However, not all of these hires had commenced work yet. Some were still in mandatory training and others weren’t due to start until August. He couldn’t have pulled this difficult period without his events coordinator who was a true lifesaver almost as much as Baekhyun was. Junmyeon truly didn't know how he would have continued to run the hotel without Baekhyun's help. He was willing to do a shift that no one else wanted to, giving up his nights to cater to the whims of tired, grumpy, drunk and handsy elite guests. He was always available to work, was never sick and Junmyeon was pretty sure he hadn’t had a day off in at least three months. It was something he wanted to change but it would have to wait until after the Christmas in July period because he couldn’t trust anyone else to keep up the charade to children in the night when Santa was concerned.

“Soon Baek, I’m interviewing more candidates today.” He sighed, the pressure to get his staffing issue solved quickly weighing down on him. “I’m doing my best to find more staff to cover the nights and we’ve got others starting next month. We’ve just got to get through July.” Junmyeon couldn’t risk hiring the wrong people so his screening process was lengthy and demanding. 

“I know you are hyung. It’s just been a lot this past week. Christmas in July has made my shifts incredibly busy and while I’m amazing, arguably the best night manager there ever was or ever will be, I’m only one man.” He said.

“You know how much I value you Baek. I’m going to find you the staff you need but I can’t rush it. We’ve gotta trust the process.” He paused. “I’ve gotta go, the first candidate for the day has arrived.”

Baekhyun hung up and continued his journey to his room. One of the perks of being Night Manager was a suite on the eastern side of the hotel. His suite was lovely, he’d done his best (much to the chagrin of Key) to make it feel like home. He accepted all of these shifts, as well as the title of Night Manager, because he loved working for the hotel. He considered Junmyeon to be one of his closest friends, he didn’t even mind that his close friend was his boss. 

He loved his job, he just wished that he didn't have to wear so many hats at the moment to please the guests that they had. As it was newly refurbished they were trying to bring in new clientele and in order to do that it had to seem like the hotel was fully staffed at all times including the night shift so not only was he night manager but he was everyone else during the hours of 10 until 6. To say that this was exhausting and kind of boring in the beginning was not an understatement but he turned it into a game to keep it interesting for him.

Behind the reception area where no one could see he had a coat rack full of the other uniforms that staff would wear to fulfil their various roles and when it was called for he did a very quick costume change, disappearing and reappearing as someone new. For him the most fun was when he impersonated the staff that weren’t there.

Most of the guests were so full of themselves or the business that they were there for that they didn't really pay much attention to the staff as long as the staff member was good at their job and present so Baekhyun had gotten away with his ruse for quite some time. He had it down to a fine art. Until you. You saw him and he didn’t know how to feel about that. At first he was scared that you’d make a complaint to the hotel about him, but you seemed to enjoy watching him play his many roles. He wasn’t sure why the thought of that thrilled him as much as it did.

It had been quite some time since a guest had stared at him the way you did, as though you were transfixed by him. He was used to people looking through him, just seeing a staff member that they needed for something, which was fine with him, but you looked at him. That first night when you checked in he hadn’t had time to change back into the suit he wore for his main role. He’d been serving drinks at the bar right up until you buzzed the front door. He hadn’t missed the way that your eyes kept drifting to his lips, chest, hands, and thighs. It felt good to be looked at like that, as someone desirable, but he kept quiet about it. He didn’t want to make you embarrassed as he was pretty sure you weren’t aware of how unsubtle you were being after having been in transit for most of the day. He hoped he’d get to know you better during the course of the week. 

***

Your POV

After two days at the hotel you’d come to know a few things. 1. During the day, the place was bustling with both guests and staff. 2. At night, it was still bustling with guests but the staff… well the staff seemed to just be Baekhyun and Jinki. 3. Baekhyun denied this vehemently. 

The first night after your arrival you headed down to see the Christmas tree in the main lobby and grab a drink at the bar, maybe even listen to the dulcet tones of their newly hired pianist. You saw Baekhyun at the reception desk, giving him a small wave as you passed by. He smiled and waved back as he continued to assist the couple in front of him with directions.

You stood in front of the large tree in awe. You’d never seen a Christmas tree of this magnitude before. It was lit up, well like a Christmas tree, the red and gold baubles accenting the green of the tree beautifully. It was a lot grander than your small tree at home. Granted, yours was a real tree and you had to keep it alive (something you wouldn’t say you were excelling at but the thing wasn’t dead). 

“I’ll give you a drink voucher if you can spot my favourite decoration.” His voice startled you. You turned to your left and found Baekhyun grinning as he stood next to you. “Sorry, I thought you’d have heard me walking over. You must have really been immersed in the tree.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never seen one this big before.” He laughed. “It’s huge! Who has a Christmas tree that’s at least three storeys high and isn’t amazed by it?!”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m just used to it. I see it every day so its size doesn’t distract me.” He fought the urge to wink as he spoke. “Anyway, my offer for a drink voucher stands. You just have to find my favourite decoration. I’ll give you one chance per day.” The distinct ring of the bell at the front desk sounded and he sighed. “I’ll be back. Go get up close and personal with it.” 

Not one to pass up a free anything, you moved closer to the tree as Baekhyun went about doing his job. At first glance you’d only focused on the red and gold baubles but the longer you looked, the more decorations you noticed. There were ornaments spread across the entire tree. You spotted a candy cane, a nutcracker, various glittery pine cones, some snowmen, some varied Santa ornaments, and angel or two, a range of coloured balls with odd symbols on them, random animals with vaguely Christmas themed objects; like the corgi with a snowglobe. 

You decided to pick the European gnome style Santa ornament, with his hat covering all of his face except for his nose and beard but when you turned around, Baekhyun was nowhere to be seen. You decided to go to the bar, figuring you’d see him on your way back to the elevator when you were ready to return to your room for the night.

***

“Why are you everywhere?” You asked, pointedly.

The bartender, who was without a shadow of a doubt, Baekhyun replied. “I don’t know what you mean.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You served me a drink then disappeared, only to suddenly be over at the piano accompanying the jazz singer who’s here tonight, and now you’re back serving drinks.” 

“You’re mistaken.” He gestured to the tag on his shirt. “I’m Taemin, as you can see from my name badge and the pianist is Chanyeol. We’ve got similar hairstyles so I could understand why you might confuse the two of us.” He pointed at his attire. “But as you can see, I’m wearing completely different clothing. Maybe you need your eyes checked. We staff aren’t all the same, you know.” He smirked as he shook a cocktail for another guest, expertly adding little flourishes as he worked. You were not convinced. This man tending the bar, as far as you were concerned, was Baekhyun and he was doing a terrible job of convincing you otherwise. Maybe the other guests didn’t notice him the way you did but you had memorised the features of his face, and apparently some other features as well.

You leant forward on the bar counter. “You both look alarmingly similar to the night manager…” 

He chuckled as he shook his head at you in disbelief. “So our CEO has a type. How is that our fault?”

“Baekhyun…” You started.

He tutted at you as he moved to stand directly in front of you, only the bar counter separating the two of you. “I might have to cut you off little lady, I just said my name was Taemin. How could you get that so wrong?” He tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eye. It felt like a challenge, one you were willing to play along with for now.

“My apologies, er Taemin was it?” He nodded, happy that you were playing along. “Your drinks must be stronger than I anticipated. You see I was talking with the aforementioned Night Manager before I came in here. He offered me a free drink voucher if I could guess his favourite decoration on the Christmas tree.”

He leant forward on the bar, his closeness almost distracting you. “Did you guess correctly?” He asked, a knowing smile forming on his face.

You shook your head, pouting. “No. He was nowhere to be seen when I was ready to make my first guess.”

“Ah, he is a busy man.” Not-Baekhyun offered. “I’m sure you’ll see him before you return to your room.

You sighed. “True, but I wanted to make my guess. I really stared at that huge, girthy tree for so long and got so close to it to inspect all of the details.” 

He cleared his throat. “Now I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone describe the Christmas tree like that before.” 

Before you could continue your innuendo another guest arrived at the bar which demanded Not-Baekhyun’s attention. He offered you a slight shrug as he turned to focus on the guest’s order. You couldn’t say that you minded though, you enjoyed watching him tend the bar. He was remarkably good at it, flipping bottles and providing easy banter. You weren’t sure why he was pretending to be someone else, changing his shirt, jacket and sometimes his hair wasn’t enough to fool you. Clearly it worked for the other guests as you’d spotted quite a few people who you’d seen speaking with him at the front desk not even take a second glance at him as they ordered their drinks.

The whole bit with the size of the tree? You’d picked up on his suggestive yet playful tone when he’d first mentioned it. You were here for a few more days and there was absolutely no harm in flirting with the very attractive man who seemed to be doing everyone’s jobs. He seemed interested so even if nothing came of it, you could both have your fun until you left.

As you sipped your drink, a devious little plan formed in your mind. One that would achieve a few goals for you. It would catch him out on pretending to be others and explore the extent of the wardrobe options he had on hand. If it went really well, then you both just might get to have a very Merry Christmas…in July.

Part 2

A/N: Thanks for reading and enjoying this collab. Please don’t forget to check the other writers out @myeoning-call @leewalberg @yourkeeperoftherunners @taem-min @ouvuo @dreamylittlesugarcube @jxstadaydreamer and @sojuri

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

BTS at the SDG UN General Assembly (210920)

by Admin 1

Six days, as well as one flight from Seoul to New York City, after receiving their diplomatic passports, the day of BTS’ third UN appearance finally came. The SDG UN General Assembly AM session began with several speakers, one of them South Korea’s President Moon who first gave his own speech before introducing BTS by saying: “joining us today are an exceptionally outstanding group of young men who are connecting with youth across the world (...). BTS the first ever Special Envoy from the private sector (...) probably the artist that is most loved by people around the world.”

Like I said in my post about their visit to the Blue House, I was impossibly proud watching them walk onto that stage at the UN HQ bringing along two posters, one of which had pictures sent in by ARMY, and give their speech in Korean instead of English. Unlike the first time back in 2018 when only Namjoon had spoken, this time all the members took turns to lay out a meaningful speech which you can either watch in the video below (English subs, as well as in many other languages, are provided) or read it a little further below.

In the videos of the members sitting on the side waiting for their turn you could see each of them taking deep breaths and practicing their part of the speech a few more times wanting make sure they could deliver it to the best of their abilities on a stage as unique as this one. Their nervousness was clearly visible at various degrees underlining only so much more how historic this moment really was, for them, for the current and future generations, but also for their country.

Over the years, and especially since Namjoon’s first UN speech, ARMY made a million edits about President Kim Namjoon and today we saw a visual that turned edits into real life, even if “only” as UN speaker instead of president. If you ask me, he’ll always be my president. I’m sure JK would agree with me.

Speaking of which, it’s a beautiful coincidence that during his first speech at the UN (aside from the online version last year) JK is the same age as Namjoon was in 2018 during his first UN speech.

Before they began, it was so interesting to see Namjoon take a moment to look at his members, see if everyone is ready, and only once he was sure that they were, he began. Very leader like of him.

Though I don’t have a picture/gif of it, something that I thought was very meaningful and therefore important to mention was a moment during one of Jimin’s parts where his nervousness got to him. Instead of panicking, he simply took a moment, lowered his microphone, took a deep breath, collected himself, and then continued on with what he was supposed to say. It was a very human moment, one that showcases that it is okay to be overwhelmed, to take a small break, just a few seconds, before continuing, that it’s not embarrassing or a sign of weakness, but rather a sign of strength to calmly overcome the moment and continue on, brave and confident.

Another thing worth mentioning was how during their speech the different world leaders sitting in the audience, including President Moon, took out their phones to take pictures or videos of the members, how after they were done and left the stage and made their way out of the Hall, many of them gave them thumbs up as they passed, some even greeting them with a safe elbow bump, a show of respect and admiration. After all it takes tremendous courage to deliver a speech like this in a place such as this one.

The grand finale of their appearance, of course, was the pre-recorded performance of Permission to Dance filmed inside the Hall, the entrance area of the HQ, as well as the space in front of the building and a park next to it. It was shown on the two monitors inside the Hall as well for the attending world leaders to see as well.

We’ve seen so many iconic stages, especially since Dynamite Era last year, but I never thought we’d get to see them perform at the UN HQ, literally. In my early ARMY days, I never expected that our journey would take us here, and yet, as I think about it now, it completely makes sense that it did. Bangtan were always destined for greatness. It’s now clearer than ever before.

I do love how even at a performance as meaningful as this one, Jimin and Tae still found a way to have two tiny moments, the one in the gif below but also one that came just before it (though I couldn’t find or make a gif of it myself, sorry) where they seemed to giggle/smile at each other while Tae showed Jimin a jump he wanted, and also ended up doing afterward, for the camera. 

Though they didn’t interact in the Permission to Dance performance, my little Namjin heart was so happy to see Namjoon and Seokjin side by side throughout the appearance, which I’m aware was in large dictated by their usual lineup (though it was adjusted so Namjoon was in the center with three members to either side from him) but it still reminded me of Namjoon’s request to Seokjin four years ago, as in that he please be by his side at events like this because it makes him calmer.

Much the way it was back in 2018, this time we also got some selcas from Seokjin, Yoongi and Hobi showing off their UN IDs as well as their UN x SK masks which were also worn by the President and First Lady (and likely also their staff). One thing that caught my eye though were their pins which, upon first glance, seemed like the same ones everyone else had, but when you looked closer it turns out that our boys had to be a bit extra. Out with the plain ones, in with the bedazzled versions that, because of the gems, remind me of their mics as well.

Koreas pride with pins that sparkle just as beautifully as they do.

All in all this was a historical moment, something I’m impossibly grateful I got to witness live. My ARMY pride and ego is through the roof today and will remain as such for a long time going forward. The members have come a long way and have grown and matured into stunning young men with bright minds and intelligent words. As much as it was an honor for them to be there, it is an honor for us to be their fans, to support them, and I cannot wait to see where we’ll go from here but one thing is for sure, Hobi certainly was right, liking BTS certainly was the best decision ever.

[smutsonian]

the mobster’s little girl

pairing: mob!steve rogers x reader

summary: what happens when the big bad mobster gets blackmailed by your father to marry you? (kind of fluffy kind of not. kinda dark kinda not.)

warnings: smut, violence, death, obsessive behavior kind of, poorly written smut (for real i skipped some), innocent reader (kind of?), lil bit of angst, drowning, accidents in the kitchen, reader getting burned, not proofread, a lot of mistakes for sure (It’s a long fic and im too lazy to find the mistakes), loss of virginity skskks, oral deed (f & m), fingering skksks, kind of a handie, please let me know if i skipped some, please read at your own risk, rumlow is a warning periodt, this has crack vibes i swear idk what i was typing at some point, ddlg? (is this ddlg? jesus fuck idek anymore), dub-con but like not really?, the POV gets fucked up towards the end so goodluck with understanding this piece of sheeet

word count: 11k (what da actual fuck? this is loooong)

a/n: df am i being awkward while writing them warnings for? Holy shit that’s a long list of warnings

big thanks to @buckys-forgotten-plum​ for helping me edit <3 luv u mwah

this is a combined request of a mob!steve x innocent!reader + steve teaching reader to suck his ding-a-ding-dong

this has a sucky ending. i hate the fucking ending. 

also, i don’t got no clue on how to do spacing on tumblr so im terribly sorry for that.

masterlist

Maybe it’s because they were terrified. Maybe it’s because they know what’s out there and what evil lurks in every corner of the city. Whatever the reason is, her parents hid her from the outside world. Never was she able to step another foot out of the gates of her home. No matter how huge the mansion her parents keep her in, it still feels small and lonely. Instead of the friends that she should’ve made in kindergarten, she became friends with her parents’ employees. Instead of the high school friends that she was supposed to have, she has the few cleaners in the house. She didn’t feel like they work for her because they’ve become her friends that keep her sane for being in one place for her whole life. Being able to go somewhere that’s not the garden, the gazebo, or even the lake that became her favorite place has always been in her mind but never her heart never really demanded to go out. She gets curious at times but it’s not enough to make her go against her parents’ number one rule.

 “Never let yourself be known and never talk to anyone outside this house. If possible, keep yourself away from the entrance gates.”

Being the obedient daughter you are, you followed that rule without question. You became the daughter that your parents wanted you to be. You learned everything from your tutor. The basics of economics but mostly proper etiquette. You didn’t know why you had to learn those but you did what your parents wanted you to do without question. You always do…

 That’s why when your parents told you that you were to marry, you agreed with a little bit of hesitance. “It’s for the best, princess.” Is the only thing that your father said while your mom looked at you with a small smile. You thought that it was going to be like the ones in the movies. You imagined a magical wedding but you didn’t even have one. You were told to sign some papers and just like that, you’re married to some man you don’t even know. A man that you didn’t see until a few days after the signing of papers.

  Steve never felt so disrespected in his entire life. He’s so used to being the powerful man of the city, the country even, that never did he expect some feeble man to come barreling into his business. The Y/L/Ns… He knew of them but he knew little about them. The family is so secretive but are known to be powerful. Nobody knows how they do it but now he has been graced to learn how.

Blackmail… Along with bribery. How fucking pathetic.

He didn’t know how the man managed to acquire his plans for a rival gang but somehow, the fucker did. The rival gang that he was trying to take down for so long and managed to make a plan of action until this fucker messed everything up. The bastard wanted to marry his daughter off to him for a powerful alliance. Saying something about how both of their names would benefit from the marriage. The bastard also promised a fat amount of money that he’ll receive once he marries his daughter. The bastard knew that money has always been a problem for him by the smug look on his face. 

“It’s simple. You provide us security, we give you money. We seal the deal once you sign the papers to be my daughter’s husband.” The old fucker says with such pride in his voice. Steve gritted his teeth before making a move to toss the man out but the fucker clicks his tongue at him. “Ahh, we also wouldn’t want Rumlow to know about your plans on attacking his turf a fortnight from now, do we?” The old fuck stares at him as he waits for his answer.

 Having no other choice, Steve says yes with flared nostrils. He glares at the way the man smiles giddily while walking towards the door. Before the old man could leave, he turned back towards Steve with a serious look before pointing a finger at him. “One more thing… My daughter will be your wife but you are not to touch her. You live at the mansion with her but you ain’t allowed to touch her. Do get out of her way as much as you can. You get all the money you want by following my orders. That easy. Nice dealing with you.” The man was out the door in an instant as Steve glared at the closed door before picking up a wine glass from his desk and throwing it against the door.

   “It’s a bit weird, mother.” Is your reply when your mother came to visit you in your room and asked you about how you’re feeling given your situation. She continues to brush your hair with her fingers as she hums in response.

 “It’s not like the ones in movies, that’s for sure.” You joke, earning a chuckle from your mother.

“My situation… It’s not really normal, correct?” You pull away from your mother’s hands and turn to look at her. She lets out a sigh before turning you back around and resuming to play with your hair. “No…” She says. “We might have been a bit strict with you but we only did it for your safety. The world out there… It’s not safe.” She continues. Once again, you pull away from your mother to fully give your attention to her. “But you and father are always out there. You put yourselves in danger on the daily so why can’t I?” You look at your mother who was looking at you with an unamused expression. You let out a sigh before sighing. “I know... I know. It sounds a bit silly to ask myself to be put in danger… But what about marrying me off to some stranger! You told me that father is bringing him here after he signed the papers. He’s to live here with all of us. Mother, we don’t even know him. Why would you let a stranger into our home?” You reason out, making exaggerated hand gestures to back yourself up. When your mother makes no effort to respond to you, you retort with a scoff and an eye roll. 

“You’re so hell-bent on keeping me inside this place, claiming that it’s to protect me that you failed to realize that you’re putting all of us in danger by letting an unknown man live with us. Seems kind of idiotic to me.” 

 *SLAP*

 You look at your mother with wide eyes as you hold your left cheek as it is stinging in pain. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was disrespectful of me. I’m sorry.” You scrambled to get away from your mother, ignoring her calls as you left your room to run down the long hallway and down the flight of circular stairs. You went out of the mansion and started running down a pathway towards the lake. You were so upset and focused on getting to your destination that you didn’t see a strange man coming out of a black SUV just as you walked out of the mansion.

 You ran down the wooden dock, frowning at what you had said to your mother. You couldn’t believe how you acted just now. First, you disrespect your mother. Now, you hide yourself away like a child that got reproved for the first time. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, an action that you got from your father, as you paced around the wooden dock. “Of course, they were just trying to protect you, you stupid idiot.” You hit your forehead with your palms over and over before tilting your head backward to stare at the sky, not caring at how your eyes hurt at the blinding sun. 

 You closed your eyes after a few seconds, sighing out as you figured that you should probably go back. Your so-called husband was supposed to arrive today. You start to walk back when your foot slipped and suddenly, water enveloped your body. 

 You fell into the lake.

 You would think that being locked up in a big mansion would give you a lot of time to learn how to swim but with your luck, no one ever thought you how so now you couldn’t do anything but drown.

 Your arms flopped around you as you kicked your legs all over the place just to get some air down your lungs but you only found yourself sinking further down. You couldn’t even scream for help because you know that if you did, you would only be swallowing a whole lot of water. 

 Before you could lose your breath entirely, something grasped your flailing hand. You would’ve screamed if you weren’t pulled out of the water. Turned out, it was a hand. Not some kind of creature from the fantasy movies you’ve watched.

 You were sitting on the wooden dock, gasping for air when the sound of an annoyed huff caught your attention. You tilt your head up to see a man looking down at you with an annoyed expression. Your brain started clicking and then it hit you. He must be your husband.

 “You’re here early.” You whisper, looking down. You weren’t sure how to act around him. Around your husband. You would base it on the movies you’ve watched but so far, those movies were nothing like your life. You were sure that if you tried to act like one of the characters there, you would look like a complete buffoon. 

 “So glad to know that I’m married to a dumbass.” He cuts your thoughts off with a sneer. 

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall and drown like that.” You remember the lessons you had. About not engaging in someone else’s hostility. You looked down in embarrassment. You’ve never been called something vile like that so you must’ve made him really upset. He scoffs before shaking his head and leaving you on the wooden floor as he walks away.

After that encounter with your so-called husband, you never really saw him again, even though the two of you were living in the same house. It was a few weeks after the drowning incident and you made sure to not tell anyone about it and you only hoped that Steve (you had to learn his name from your mother) didn’t tell anyone about it either. You and your mother are in good terms again and she’s currently in your room again, telling you how she and your father are to spend a few months in Prague to deal with a few business hiccups. You didn’t bother to ask if you could come with but you did bother to complain about them leaving. “You’re leaving me alone with a stranger under the same roof as me?” You exaggeratedly widened your eyes at your mother. “Oh, stop it. I’ve gotten to know Steve myself. I’m sure you’ll be safe with him. He seems like a nice guy. Although, I think your father gets a little bit on his nerves.” Your mother giggles to herself and you look at her with an amused grin. “You’re closer to my husband than I am with him.” You joked which earned a sympathetic look from your mother.

 “Talk to him. He’s your husband after all.” She caresses your face. You hold her wrist as you push your cheeks towards her hold. “I’m pretty sure he hates me, mother. I have a feeling that he’s scrupulously avoiding me.” 

 “How about you bake him something, hmm? You’re wonderful at baking!” Your mother grins at your excited reaction to the mention of baking.

 “I do love to bake…” You hummed in thought before giving your mother a faux pointed look. “Alright, I will bake but only because I love to bake. So if he doesn’t want to socialize with me, then so be it. I wouldn’t care.” You huff proudly as your mother looked at you with a grin and a hint of playfulness in her eyes.

 “What is it?” You ask her.

 “Why do I get the feeling that you want to impress Steve?” She chuckles at your stunned expression.

 “You have completely lost your mind, mother. Haven’t you got a plane to catch? Go on. Say hello to Prague for me!” You push her out of your room, her laughing at your antics before placing a kiss on your forehead and leaving you to yourself.

  “Ooof!” You hissed as your finger touched the hot tray when you were pulling it out of the oven. You were making the third batch of cookies and somehow, you managed to burn your finger now. You quickly pulled the mittens off before putting the hot finger into your lips, as if sucking the pain away is possible. 

 You heard footsteps coming over and when you turned your head, you saw Steve looking at you with something you couldn’t comprehend. “H-hey.” You pulled your finger out of your mouth before hiding it behind your back like a kid. You tiptoed over the counter to reach the plate of cookies before walking over to him. “I made cookies. Would you… like to try some?” You moved the plate closer to his face but he only scowled at you before taking your right wrist and surveying your hand. He found the finger you were sucking on earlier and muttered something under his breath. You thought you heard him say ‘dumbass’ again like the last time.

 “Put cream on it.” He grumbled before leaving the kitchen. You glared at his back until he turned back around, making you wipe the glare out of your face before smiling bitterly at him. He walked towards you with a dark look until he was inches away from you. The position you two are currently in made you realize how tall he is. How he’s towering over you and how his biceps are poking out of his shirt. His crystal blue eyes are staring deep into your soul and you were almost hypnotized by it. You gulped in nervousness. You remember all the things you told your mother about this certain stranger that could possibly be a danger to you until he smirked and took the plate of cookies from the table before walking out once more, leaving you gaping at the door in confusion as your heart was beating faster than normal. From fear or something else, you do not know.

 ----

 Steve was deep in thought as he chewed on the cookies she made. It was really delicious and he hated that he liked it. He did his best to avoid the girl. He’s trying his best to avoid the girl. He did his best to hate the girl so things would be easier for him. He’s trying his best to hate the girl. He didn’t have time to babysit her. Her father is not someone he wanted to have ties with but he is. Steve didn’t want anything that has to do with that man and that includes her.

 But why is it so hard for him to keep her out of his mind?

 The first time he saw her, she had that cute little frown on her face but he found his heart skipping a beat at the sadness in her eyes. He knew he would regret following her but then he didn’t. He saw her as she fell down the dock and he didn’t know why he felt like his world stopped when he saw her gasping for air but it did. It took him his best efforts not to just dive into the lake to save her. Instead, he took her flailing hands and easily pulled her out of the waters. He wanted to keep her warm when he saw her shivering on the wooden floor but he suddenly remembered the deal. His worry was quickly converted into anger and annoyance so he managed to leave her alone, something heavy in his chest as he walked away from her.

 He hated the way she made him feel so he avoided her like a plague. Their home was big and avoiding her was really easy. It was stopping himself from going near her is the hard part. Her mother is the total opposite of her father. Her mother is a nice woman and living with the Y/L/Ns didn’t feel like a job other than her horrid father. Steve got to learn more about her through her mother. She talked about her so dearly. Steve felt his heart fall at the mention of her not leaving the mansion. It sounded like she was an animal caged in better surroundings. Steve realized why she acted so differently when he’s watching her. She seemed so… innocent. 

 Then he caught her baking cookies. It took him his best not to run towards her when he heard her hiss in pain. He watched as she tried to hide her injury from him. He didn’t know if he found it cute or annoying because she shouldn’t hide injuries from him. From anyone. If she was injured, she should get it to check as soon as possible. Then she offered him cookies. Steve swore that his heart leaped in adoration but he took the offered plate in front of him as a chance to check on her hand. He observed her fingers, internally flinching as he saw the burnt area on her index finger. “Such a clumsy little girl…” He muttered under his breath. Steve caught himself though. Why was he so worried about her? He quickly composed himself and dropped her hand. Before turning to leave. He heard her huff and he couldn’t help but to chuckle at that. He turned around to see her frowning at him only to have her eyes widened in surprise. She gave him a stubborn smile as he walked over to her, teasing her and testing her to see where her cuteness could go. Where her STUBBORNNESS could go. Did he really just say cute? 

 When he thought she had had enough, he smirked and took the plate of cookies before leaving.

 The plate of cookies that he’s currently munching on. 

 The more Steve thinks about it, the more he’s realizing that he couldn’t keep her out of his mind. It was impossible.

 The more he sees her, the more he wants to be with her. The more he sees her, the more he wants to protect her because it seems like she has a way of putting herself in danger.

 So innocent.

 So pure.

 He wanted her and he didn’t know if he could control himself anymore.

  A week has passed and things with your husband seemed to have gotten better, if one is optimistically speaking. 

 He no longer avoided you so that’s better than before. He doesn’t acknowledge you much though. He only speaks to you to correct your every move. Called you out when you were walking barefoot around the mansion, mocked you when you walked around the docks, and even demanded you to leave the kitchens alone because according to him, you don’t know how to properly use it.

 He only ever opened his mouth to speak his mind of his distaste towards you and you were starting to miss the times when he completely avoided you.

 But you ignored the insults and kept your head high up. You aren’t going to sulk. Especially not when someone’s clearly made it his goal to make you feel just that.

 That’s why you’re currently making pasta. Ignoring his demand and continuing on having adventures in the kitchen. You just finished making the sauce so now you just have to cook the pasta. You took a pot that was way bigger than your head and proceeded to fill it with water from the sink.

 You struggled to carry it over to the stove, letting out a relieved sigh once you managed to set it down. The problem though, the bottom of the pot somehow got stuck on the burner plate. You clicked your tongue in annoyance before grunting and attempting to pull on the heavy pot. It remained stuck so you exerted more effort, succeeding but managing to tilt the pot towards yourself. You let out a yelp as the cold water inside the pot spills all over you. 

 “Y/N!”

 You felt his hands before you heard his voice.

 ——

 Steve heard clanking noises from the kitchen and he just had to roll his eyes at the thought of her prancing around the kitchen. Didn’t he tell her to leave the kitchen alone? He’s just trying to stray her from the harm she could put herself in. Not that he would ever admit that out loud.

 He walked into the kitchen, just in time to see water spill over her from the boiling pot. His blood went cold as he felt his heart stopping. “Y/N!” He rushed over her knelt body, covered in water. He cautiously touched her face, being careful not to hurt her possibly burnt skin. Why can’t she just listen to him? He told her not to work in the kitchen for a reason. 

 As he touched her seemingly cold cheeks, he watched as she looked up at him with an innocent confused look. “Steve?” Her voice was so meek yet it made his ear start to ring as his heart started to beat back to life. She must’ve seen his frantic expression because her eyes widened in realization before she’s shaking her head and pointing at the fallen pot. “I haven’t boiled the water yet! See? I’m fine. I didn’t burn myself.” She had the audacity to smile cheekily at him and he didn’t know if he should be leaping in joy with her or reprimanding her for being so careless.

 Steve clicked his tongue at her, something that he must’ve picked up from her, before leaving the kitchen with a huff. Something that he’s been doing a lot whenever he’s with her.

 ——

 After he left, you took a seat on one of the chairs, recalling what just happened a few moments ago. He thought you were stupid enough to pour boiling water all over yourself. Does he really think you’re that stupid? He looked so worried though. You smiled at the thought of him possibly caring about you. 

 You let out a short squeak when you felt something falling at the top of your head. A towel. Steve wrapped it around you until your head was the only part exposed. “Whatcha grinning on about, little girl?” His voice was stern but there was a teasing tone in it. You looked up at him as he watched you. You shook your head before furrowing your eyebrows when he bought the pot towards the sink, filling it with water.

 “What are you doing?” Your voice is small as you asked him.

 “Can’t trust you with this. You might boil yourself the next time you even try.” He clicked his tongue before effortlessly bringing the pot to the stove and lighting it up. After that he walked back towards you and sat at the chair beside you, turning himself to stare back at you.

 “I thought I made it clear when I told you not to work in the kitchens?” He mockingly tilted his head before raising one eyebrow at you. You stared back at him, not knowing what to say so you just tilted your head down like a chided kid. 

 “Uh uh uh…” You felt his long fingers under your chin as he tilted your head back to face him. “What’s the matter? Did you manage to burn your tongue as well? Hmm?” You didn’t know why but the way he was talking to you is making you feel something unfamiliar in your stomach.

 When you didn’t answer, he put the hand that was on your chin to the side of your mouth, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your eyes fluttered when he managed to poke his thumb into your mouth and pressed it down your tongue gently.

 “Seems pretty alright for me…” He mumbles. You watched as his eyes widened in surprise when you sucked on his thumb absentmindedly. You realized what you were doing and stopped immediately. “No. No, don’t stop. Do it again.” He watched you with bright eyes as you hesitantly sucked on his thumb once more, feeling your body warming up at the current situation. 

 He slowly pulls his thumb out before rubbing it around your lips and leaning his face closer to yours. You could feel your heart panicking in fright or in excitement, you weren’t sure. You saw him close his eyes before he let out a sigh. He pulls away from you then ruffles the towel on your head. “Why don’t you go ahead and put dry clothes on? I think the pasta’s ready.” He grins before walking back toward the stove to start preparing the meal.

 You stumbled to your feet, mindlessly walking towards your room with a clouded mind.

 What was that all about?

  All Steve could ever think about was her. Her beautiful lips. Her eyes that glisten with innocence. Her nose twitches whenever she’s focused on something. The way she fits in his hold. The way she reacts under his touch. 

 He couldn’t forget about the way she sucked on his thumb unknowingly and the way her eyes became hooded from his touch. It’s obvious that she had no idea what was happening and what she was feeling and that only fueled his hunger more.

 The thought of her being hurt made him furious. It made him protective. He wants to protect her at all costs because not even the ends of her hair should get hurt. No. Not on his watch.

 Steve couldn’t take her out of her mind even if he wanted to. That’s the problem. He doesn’t want her out of his mind anymore. He doesn’t want to avoid her anymore.

 Steve accepted it. 

 He knows that he wants her and he knows that she’ll be able to have him wrapped around her precious little finger if she wants to. 

 He realized how she has a tight hold over him without even knowing it and he’s accepted that fact. 

 He’s ready to do everything for the girl and she doesn’t even know it. He’s ready to give her everything he has and everything he is. 

 He’s ready to give himself completely to her. Of course, it is if she’ll have him.

  After that encounter with Steve, you finally followed his instruction and stopped trying to make various meals in the kitchen. 

 You were craving cake so you asked one of the cooks to bake you a cake. That’s why there’s a whole cute pink cake in front of you at the kitchen counter. 

 You’re currently staring at it, thinking it’s too precious to destroy and eat but after a minute of your mouth watering, you give up and run your index finger on the sides until it is covered in icing.

 You licked your finger before sucking on it and humming at the sweet taste of the icing while your eyes are closed. When there is none left on your finger, you take your index and middle finger before sliding it on the sides of the cake to gather twice as much as the previous one.

 Your eyes are closed and lips parted slightly apart, ready to suck on your fingers one more time when a hand grips your wrist. Your eyes fly open to see Steve holding your hand while he’s looking down at your face with a boyish grin. Your eyes widened for the second time when his tongue darted out of his mouth and started licking the icing off your fingers.

 He was staring at you as he continued to lick the icing and you were starting to pull away when his lips parted wider to start sucking on your fingers. You’re frozen in shock as your eyes twitched at the sight of him sucking on your fingers. 

 You feel your heart drop when he starts groaning against your fingers. The unfamiliar feeling in your stomach made itself known again and you bit your bottom lip anxiously at the strange feelings you always get whenever Steve’s with you. 

 Your eyes follow Steve’s lips as he pulls your fingers out of his mouth with a silent pop. He looks at you with a smile before furrowing his brows. “Did you bake this?”

 “N-no! I had someone to bake it for me.” You’re quick to let him know that you didn’t make the cake. He smiled again and you just realize how giddy you feel when you’re able to make him smile like that. 

 “Really? So you finally listened to me?” He chuckles when he sees you nod shyly at him. “Aren’t you a good little girl.” He cooes before looking at the cake with a smirk. “This cake is really delicious…” He leans back to stand straight and you nodded at him in agreement. “I wonder…” 

 You let out a loud squeal when he suddenly puts his hands under your arms before pulling you up and sitting you down on the counter. You look at him with a stunned expression. “Wha—“ 

 “But I bet you taste better than this cake.” You couldn’t respond because he immediately connects his lips with yours, making your eyes pop out in shock as he continues to attack your mouth. You let out a small whimper when you feel his tongue pushing past your lips and roaming around the inside of your mouth, tickling the roof of your mouth.

 You start chuckling against his lips and he stops, looking at you in confusion. “You’re tickling me…” You point at the top of your mouth and Steve’s frown turned into a grin. His hand found their ways on the top of your knees and then he’s pushing them apart. “I know a place where I can tickle you... I’m sure you’ll like it.” He pulls you closer to him so you slide against the counter. He carefully pushes your shoulders until your back is laying on the cold kitchen counter. You feel him hiking your skirt up and pulling your underwear down before he sets your feet back on the counter, knees bent, and far apart. 

 You could feel him breathing against your skin and you could feel your body running hot while the hairs on your body stand in attention. You feel something wet run against your skin and you yelp as you sit on your elbows, looking at Steve alarmingly. His face was just in front of your core and tongue is just retreating your skin. 

 “Wh-what are you doing, Steve?” You bite your lip as you watch him stand up until he’s face to face with you. “I’m trying to make you feel good, baby. Do you trust me?” He presses his lips against yours and pulls away, waiting for your answer.

 “I don’t know…” You admit, stomach dropping at the sadness that flashes over his face.

 “Then let me show you that you can trust me. Can you let me do that?” He looks at you and smiles when you nod at him. He presses his lips on you once more, pushing you against the kiss until your back is back on the counter. He pulls away, pecking you one last time before going back to press kisses in between your legs.

 He licks up your skin, hands pressing down on your hips when you begin squirming around. You feel his mouth sucking on the bud before flicking his tongue over it. He doesn’t stop until you’re whining under him, unsure if you want him to stop or to do something else.

 “What do you want, little girl?” He breathes against your core, making your legs shiver at the sensation. 

 “I don’t know…” You whine, eyes staring at him as he stands over your body. He raises his right hand, fingers fluttering in display as he gives you a questioning look. “You want me to use this on you?” You could only nod in desperation because the feeling of emptiness when he pulled away from you is becoming too much.

 “Good girl.” You hear him whisper before going back in between your legs. You feel his fingers playing with your bud instead of his tongue and it feels overwhelming when he uses his tongue to press it against your entrance. 

 “Mmmhm” You close your eyes in delight as he continues to play with you. The familiar feeling in your abdomen makes itself known once again and this time, it’s stronger. You need more.

 “P-please…” You mutter under your breath, pulling on Steve’s hair to catch his attention. He looks at you with a proud smile before asking. “What is it? You need more? Want me to put my finger inside you, is that it?” 

 ——

 Steve smiles when she nods her head eagerly. So innocent, can’t even tell him what she wants. What she needs.

 He rubs on her clit a few more times to wet his fingers before lining a finger against her slit. He looks back at her as he starts pushing the finger in, slowing down when her hand grips her arm. 

 Steve groans at the tightness of her walls against his finger and starts to slowly pump it as he watches her face contort into a pleasured frown. When he feels her loosening up, he adds another finger that earns a low moan from her. Steve stiffens for a second when he feels his pants getting tighter in the crotch area. His cock is begging him for attention but he pays no mind, focusing on the angel in front of him.

 He spreads his fingers apart inside of her as he leans down to start flicking his tongue against her clit, smirking against it when her thighs shiver against his head. He feels her breaths starting to become uneven and he knows that she’s just about to cum so he doubles his effort, sucking her clit harshly and curling his fingers inside of her.

 Her back arches off the counter and Steve hooks an arm under her to pull her up and press her against his chest. She shakes against his hold as he helps her get through her high. She slumps against his hold, head falling down the side of his neck. 

 Steve tilts his head to look at her face, eyes hooded and forehead sweating. She looks so adorable like this. “That cake gave us such a rush, huh?” He chuckles before hooking her legs around his torso and hugging her body close to his. He feels her dozing off as he carries her to her bedroom. 

 He lays you down on the bed and tucks you under your blanket before studying your face. So peaceful. So relaxed. A smile forms on your face and Steve finds himself smiling as well.

 “Goodnight, my sweet little girl.” He presses a kiss on your forehead before walking out of your room. 

  It’s currently four in the afternoon and Steve is currently sitting on a couch in the massive living room, thinking about the night he has planned for him and his little girl. 

 After that time in the kitchen, things have been great with them. It’s been a few months and he became someone he didn’t know he could be and it was all for her. He wants nothing but the best for his girl. He gives her the ‘special treatment’ or ‘reward’ whenever she asks for it. She’ll do something nice for him to receive his special kisses but Steve knew that he’ll give her anything without her working for it. He just likes the attention he gets from her when she gets a little needy.

 Steve feels his crotch stirring under his pants at the thought of eating his little girl out. He always eats her out and makes her putty with his fingers but his cock remains abandoned. 

 He didn’t think she was ready. He didn’t want to scare his girl. He’ll wait as long as he needs until his little girl’s ready for him. For the time being, he’ll make sure to keep his little girl happy and satisfied.

 Steve’s thoughts were cut off when his little girl walked in front of him with a weird look on her face, a phone held against her right ear. He sits up in attention, his body becoming alert at the way her face scrunches up in fear as she looks at him.

 “What’s wrong, little girl?” His voice is a whisper but his tone is hard. 

 She looks at him with a frown before handing him the phone. He looks at it and listens to her as she speaks.

 “Father called… Which is weird because he never calls when they’re on a trip. Let alone a business trip. He told me that the trip would be a few months and I didn’t think they would be in some kind of situation after being gone for almost seven months… They’re usually gone longer than that. But then that guy—” She points at the phone in Steve’s hand before continuing her explanation.

 “—That guy took the phone away from my father when he’s explaining something to me about telling something to you, Steve. His name is Rumlow and he’s got a very foul mouth—” He watches as her nose scrunches up, probably at the memory of the man’s words on the phone but Steve didn’t care about that. He’s worried about Rumlow talking to you. Through your father’s phone at that!

 Steve presses the phone against his ear before asking who’s on the other line.

 “Ahh, Rogers… Where’s the little brat? I thought she’s enjoying the things I’m promising her. Told her about how my cock will make her cunt cry—” Steve feels his blood boiling at the way Rumlow is talking about his little girl.

 “What are you on about, Rumlow? What are you doing with that phone?” Steve cuts Rumlow off, voice so harsh that he sees her flinching at his tone. He smiles at her before ushering her back to her room.

 “You see… Your girl is supposed to be mine. I saw her first but imagine the surprise I got when I ask her dear daddy for her hand and he tells me that she’s married to a Steve fucking Rogers.” Steve hears Rumlow’s bitter laugh before hearing her little girl’s father groan in pain, no doubt that he took a blow from Rumlow.

 “I just want a simple deal here, Rogers. I’ll text the address and I expect to have the girl and a bag filled with… I don’t know, ten million dollars? If you’re too broke then just bring the girl. I’m sure she’ll make the lack of ten million with her pretty little cunt.” Rumlows cackle was heard along with the cries of your parents. He must’ve held them as hostages. 

 “Do that and her parents stay safe. Be here at 9 pm sharp or it’s bye-bye for her lovely parents. Tik-Tok, Rogers. Tik-Tok…” Steve almost crushes the phone into pieces in his hand when Rumlow hangs up on him. Rumlow holds your parents as hostages and dares to speak about you like that. He’ll fucking kill him.

 The phone buzzes and he sees the address Rumlow sent him. They were no longer in Prague. They’re back here...

 Steve makes a move to call his best man, Bucky, when he hears sounds coming from her room. He quickly runs over, throwing her door open to see her shoving a bunch dollar bills into a huge bag while a phone is pressed against her neck and her shoulder. 

 Steve’s heart falls at the sight of tears falling down her face. She must’ve heard everything with the connecting phone lines. He sighs before walking over to his girl and steadying her by holding her shoulders in a firm grip. “Everything will be alright. I’ll call someone to fix the problem. They’ll clear the building, catch the bad guy, and then your parents will be home in no time!” Steve gives her a smile but it doesn’t work. Her face is still wet with tears as she shakes her head in disagreement.

 “No! The b-bad guy will harm my parents if he sees your men without me! I don’t w-want anything bad happening to my family, Steve. I-I don’t want that!” He pulls her against his chest as he sobs and shakes against his hold. Steve runs a comforting hand on her back before sighing in defeat. 

 “Fine. We’ll save your parents but I have to call my friends for backup. And you have to stay as far away from the fighting. I’ll have my best guy, James, be with you the whole time. You can trust him, he’s my best friend. You need to stick with him because he’ll keep you safe, got it?” He gives her a firm yet gentle look, jaw clenching when she nodded eagerly at him before continuing to fill the bag with cash. 

 He makes his calls and in no time, they’re driving towards the address Rumlow sent him.

  Steve parks the car a few miles away from the building where her parents are being held as hostages. He looks at his little girl who’s currently wearing sweatpants and his hoodie which looks pretty big on her. He smiles at the sight before letting out a shaky breath. 

 “You gotta stay here, okay? I promise that I’ll get your parents out safely. You don’t have to worry about them because I’ll protect them for you, okay? You trust me, little girl?” He watches her as she reluctantly nods her head. He sighs at that before handing her a pistol gun. “You know how to use one?” He asks, surprised to see his little girl nod. She must’ve seen his surprised look because she looks down before explaining, “I had basic shooting lessons.”  He smiles at his little girl before nodding. 

 He gets out of the car before walking around and opening the door for his girl and helping her out. He sees James walking over to them and he nods at his friend in acknowledgment before looking back at his girl. “This is Bucky. He’ll keep you safe. Stick with him, alright?” He watches her girl as she observes his friend with her adorable curious eyes.  

 “The others are already surrounding the building. Backup is also ready. Just say something and they’ll attack. Good luck out there.” He smiles at Bucky’s words before kissing his girl’s forehead.

 “Please stay safe, Steve.” His girl mutters and he feels his heart skip a beat at that moment. “I will. Anything for you, little girl.” He turns to leave, hearing his girl one last time before disappearing. 

 “That’s a nice-looking vest, Mr. Bucky.”

  Everything was going well for Steve. Rumlow’s men are really weak and easy to take down and when Rumlow realized that, he ran. He ran away like the coward he is. He ran out of the building and that was that. At least, that’s what Steve thought. 

 He was able to see her parents and he quickly untied them, her mother thanking him endlessly while her father only grumbled his thanks once. 

 He was guiding the couple out of the building, surprised to see his little girl standing a few miles away from them with Bucky. He sees her eyes brighten in relief that made all his worries disappear. 

 He was walking with her parents when he heard the cocking of a gun beside his head. 

 “Not so fast.” A raspy voice speaks beside him.

 Rumlow…

 Before Steve could even move, a bang was heard. Followed by another bang that has his ears ringing in pain. He closes his eyes to ease the aching in his head or his body. Was he shot? 

 His eyes fly open when he remembers that his girl is also out in the open and his eyes quickly darts over towards her.

 To his surprise, his girl is holding the gun he gave her earlier in his direction. 

 Steve quickly scans the couple near him for injuries when he hears someone groaning below him. He finds Rumlow laying on his back, legs bleeding while his arms are spread out. 

 He looks back at his girl, a sense of pride filling his system. His girl just did that. 

 He watches as his girl runs towards him with her arms wide open, ready to envelop him in a hug. 

 Steve grins before he hears Rumlow muttering and everything seems to be moving in slow motion. 

 “If I can’t have her… Then nobody can!” Rumlow spits before a loud bang go out.

 Steve’s eyes grow wide when he sees the bullet piercing through his hoodie and into his girl’s chest. 

 His heart stops when he sees her falling down into Bucky’s arms and onto the cold ground. 

 Her mother’s cries filled Steve’s ringing ears as well as her father’s curses as he tried to console his wife.

 Steve quickly kicks the gun from Rumlow’s hand before kicking the bastard’s face repeatedly until he’s unconscious. He releases all his anger on the bastard who shot his little girl by bending down and throwing punches down the unconscious man. He keeps punching until he sees Bucky carrying his girl towards them. 

 He pulls back from a bleeding Rumlow before running towards Bucky and taking his girl from his best friend. He brushes some stray hair away from her forehead before observing her face. 

 “Call the fucking ambulance!” He barks at nobody but Bucky follows his order, quickly fumbling with his phone and calling their mob doctor. 

 Steve was about to rip his hoodie off his girl when her eyes suddenly flew open, gasping for air. 

 Steve’s heart stops for a second, he doesn’t know if it’s from shock or relief but he’s grateful to see his little girl alive and breathing. He feels her wrap her arms around his neck, burying her face on the side of his neck as she catches her breath. He wraps his arm around her shaking body, gripping her tight and pulling her body against his like he’s afraid that she’ll slip away from his grasp.

 “Mother. Father. I’m so glad you’re okay!” He hears his girl talking to her parents who are currently behind him. He should let her go to reunite with her parents but he doesn’t. He keeps her against his body. 

 “Are you okay, dear?” Her mother asks and he feels his girl nodding against his neck. His girl finally pulls away from him before tugging on the hoodie she’s wearing and pulling it up to reveal a bulletproof vest. 

 Bucky’s laughter fills the air and everyone turns to look at him. “You little genius!” He exclaims before pointing at his little girl. “She kept bothering me about my vest and didn’t stop until I gave her one! Ah... You got yourself a keeper and a smartass, Steve!” He continues to laugh, her parents soon follow Bucky until everyone is laughing as well. 

 Everyone’s laughter is cut off by Rumlow waking up before gasping for air just like you were a few moments ago. 

 He pulls his girl against his chest, blocking her view from Bucky who gets his gun out before pointing it towards Rumlow’s head. 

 Steve covers his girl’s ears before another bang goes out. The last one for the night.

  “I’m really fine, Steve. Dr. Banner said I was fine! No scars and all, see?” You pull your hoodie up to assure him. You watch him stare at your skin, probably looking for scars before he forces your hoodie down with a frown as he bites his lip. 

 “You can’t just pull your shirt up like that. People might see.” His hushed and commanding voice makes you gulp and nod apologetically. 

 You look around as he walks the both of you towards the lake. “But there’s nobody around, Steve.” You whisper, looking down at the dirt as you walk with him. 

 You feel his warm fingers under your chin before your head is tilted up so you’re looking directly up at him. “You really are a smartass, huh?” He smirks, feeling your body warm up against his hold before throwing his arm around your shoulders to continue walking.

 Steve holds you close as the both of you walk down the dock under the darkness of the night. He stops just at the end of the dock before turning to face you. 

 You admire his face, looking so enchanting under the light of the moonlight. “You remember the first time we met?” He asks, grinning at your embarrassed reaction which is you chewing your bottom lip. He caresses your face before running his thumb across your lips, stopping your teeth’s attacks on your lips.

 “How you’re taught to shoot a gun but not how to swim will always be a mystery.” He chuckles, smiling down at you and you watch him as he does just that. He’s just so pretty to look at.

 “You really scared me tonight, little girl…” His sad tone made your eyebrows shoot up in worry. “I-I didn’t mean to, Steve! I’m so sorry.” You frown at yourself but he brushes his fingers on the wrinkles you made between your eyebrows which makes you relax just a bit.

 “I was supposed to be the one protecting you. Not the other way around.” He lets out a sigh before looking at the water. “But thank you. Thank you for doing that. And for trusting me. I know you were a little hesitant with trusting me but you still did. So thank you for that. It means a lot.” Steve looks back at you and smiles. You feel your heart fluttering at his smile but it also breaks at his words. You wanted to tell him that he’s wrong but you are cut off by a bunch of lights.

 You gasp at the lights that start to flicker all around you. You do a slow full 360, looking at the trees that are covered with fairy lights, the side of the docks are covered with lights as well, and the darkness is soon replaced by a whole bunch of lights. Your heart starts to jump when you hear slow music playing in the background and it feels like every time you do a full 360 turn, something new presents itself. 

 Everything seems so magical, so pretty and so… Something straight out of the fairytale movies that you watch. 

 You turn to face Steve again only to find him gone. You frown before looking down to see him down on one knee, a red velvet box in his hand which he holds towards you.

 You feel yourself grinning with so much joy running through your system and you can’t help but to let out a squeal when the velvet box opens to reveal a very pretty diamond ring. 

 “Little girl… Will you make me the happiest man alive by marrying me?” He asks, uncharacteristically shy which makes you giggle. You start giggling more which makes Steve lick his lips as his eyes flash his nervousness. 

 “Steve, you’re so dumb.” You mumble through giggles. 

 “Huh?” Steve slowly stands up, looking at you with sad eyes.

 “We’re already married! We both signed the papers!” You point out the obvious, stopping your giggle fit before kissing him on the lips.

 “Don’t be sad, Steve… I accept your proposal… Even though we’re already married.” You giggle once more before letting him put the ring on you.

 He guides you until the both of you are sitting on the edge of the dock, feet dangling down the water.

 “I just wanted you to have a normal yet magical experience even just for a moment,” Steve whispers after a few minutes of silence.

 “That’s kind of useless.” You automatically say.

 “What? Why?” Steve feels his heart fall at your words. Is he doing this whole thing wrong?

 “I already feel like that whenever I’m with you.” You state, looking at him like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

 Steve feels his heart beat an extra mile but he also feels relieved that he’s indeed doing it right. 

 You grin at the sight of Steve blushing in front of you. You never thought that the man who was so hard on you the first time you met was going to be a blushing mess in front of you right now.

 “Hey, Steve?” Your voice cuts the thin air and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah?”

 “You know how I saved your life earlier…” Steve smiles at your bashful expression that he finds so adorable.

 “Mhmm…” He nonchalantly hums.

 “Well… I was thinking…” You bite your lip in nervousness and embarrassment at the question you’re about to ask him.

 “What is it, little girl?” His voice is matched with a chuckle as he gives you a grin.

 “Can I have a reward for that?” You blurt out.

 Steve feels his cock stir in his pants at her words. He bites his lip before standing up and helping her up as well.

 “I’ll give you everything you want, little girl. It doesn’t have to be a reward. You ask for it, you get it, is that clear?” He gives you a questioning look before smiling when you nod eagerly at him.

 “Now, what is it that you want as a reward?” 

 ————-

He trails kisses from your forehead to your nose, nose to your cheeks, cheeks to your neck. He purposely skips your lips with a grin and starts feasting on your neck. He licks and sucks on a spot he knows too well, earning an adorable squeak from you when he teasingly bites on the skin. “S-Steve!” You gasp, hands going straight to his head, fingers sliding through his soft hair. He continues nipping on your neck until your head tilts back and a quiet moan escapes your lips.

 He pulls away to look at you and then smirks.

 “You want me to give you those special kisses for your rewards?” He cocks a brow before smiling when you nod your head eagerly at him. “Y-yes please.” 

 Steve wastes no time to pleasure you. His little girl.

 He dives for your glistening core and groans in pleasure at your taste. He uses his tongue to stimulate you through your clit, enjoying the way your body shakes under his hold.

 Steve listens to your moans and whimpers like a song and uses it as motivation to keep you a writhing mess under him. “Please, S-Stevie…” He hears you cry under him, reaching your hands towards his hands and pulling it closer to his face as he tongues your clit. 

 Steve chuckles at your needy behavior but complies, not missing the nickname leaving your lips. Anything for his little girl.

 Steve easily enters a finger into your wet core, groaning at your warmness and wetness before adding another finger. He sees your face contorting into a mix of pleasure and pain. Steve leans down to kiss your clit and flicks his tongue faster to distract you from the pain.

 “A-aah” He watches your eyes rolling back when he begins to spread his fingers inside you. Another finger enters and you’re crumbling against his fingers, walls closing around his fingers as you cum undone under him. He pulls away from you before reaching for your face and kissing you hungrily. He smiles against the kiss when he feels you return the kiss with the same hunger.

 He feels you pulling away and he lets you, frowning a little when he sees you looking at him timidly. His hand carefully reaches for your face, knuckles gliding down for cheeks smoothly. “What is it, little girl?” 

 He watches you bite your lip before looking at him with half-lidded eyes. “I w-want to give you special kisses too…” Steve freezes as he feels his cock getting harder than before. He feels your hands reaching for his member, giving him a look before gulping. “C-can you teach me? I want to make you feel good too…” 

 Steve doesn’t know which is beating harder; his cock or his heart, maybe both… Probably both. You do that to him. Only you. His little girl. 

 Steve finds himself gulping as well. “You don’t have to, litt—” 

 “I want to!” You’re quick to cut him off. Almost eager, he notices. He lets out a nervous laugh before nodding. “Okay, okay… I’ll teach you.” He doesn’t miss the way your eyes light up from his approval. He smiles at you before guiding your hands that’s currently holding his hard member.

 “Just do this gently…” He guides your hands up and down his shaft, head going crazy at the sight of your hands not being able to cover his huge cock. He bites his lip, willing himself to hold on and not cum on your hands so early.

 “C-can I kiss it now?” He looks down at you, sitting on the mattress as your innocent eyes look up at him while he stands on the ground. “Go ahead, little girl. Try it.” He encourages you, smiling when you press a quick kiss on his tip. His jaw clenches when you press another kiss, longer this time. 

 Steve’s eyes flutter when he feels your tongue dancing around his tip. You begin to lick along the shaft and then under, making Steve groan wantonly. 

 Steve lets out a frustrated huff when you quickly pull away from him. “I-I’m sorry. I was just doing what you did to me. I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Your eyes are teary and Steve realized that his moans made you think that you hurt him.

 He sighs before leaning down to your face, giving you an assuring smile before kissing your nose. “You didn’t do anything wrong, little girl. You’re doing everything right. In fact, you’re doing so great that my friend down there couldn’t help but to go wild under your touch.” He points at his member before grinning at your widened eyes.

 “I’m going to guide you. There’s no reason to be afraid. If you want to stop, just tap me and we will stop. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, okay?” He waits for your response and lets out a breath of relief when you nod.

 He stands back up, putting your hands on his behind and guiding your face just in front of his cock. “Open wide, little girl.” He sings and grins when you do as told. He holds the back of your head but never pushes you, leaving you to go at your own pace.

 You push yourself forward, taking him halfway before pulling back and pushing yourself back to him. His moans of pleasure push you to do more so you do. You swirl your tongue on his tip as you bob your head, smiling at the loud moan that leaves his lips. 

 “You little tease…” He breathes out, his grip on your head getting tighter but not enough to hurt you. He feels the vibration of your laughter on his cock and he lets out another cry of pleasure.

 Feeling confident with yourself, you push yourself forward until his tip hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

 He helps you as you pull away from him, looking down at you with his flushed face. He studies your face, eyes shadowed with lust, making his heart do somersaults. He wipes the tears on your face before saying, “Breathe through your nose, okay?” He watches you nod and chuckles when you go back for his cock, taking him deep at a slow pace and staying there for a second before pulling slightly away. “That’s my good girl…” He moans as you continue to take him, teasing his tip with your tongue when he suddenly pulls you away from him.

 “Did I—” He cuts you off with a kiss, groaning against your lips and pushing you until you’re lying on your back with him on top of you. “You did great. I just want my cum somewhere else…” He catches your lips when you bite on them, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth.

 He pulls away, guiding your body until he’s kneeling between your thighs, one hand on his cock while the other is on your thigh. “Is this okay?” He asks when he places the tip of his cock on your slit.

 You gingerly nod, whimpering when he slides his cock on your sensitive clit. “P-please…” You have no idea what you’re begging for but he seems to know what he’s doing. 

 “Do you trust me, little girl?” Steve asks, looking at your face with hopeful eyes.

 “Yes, Stevie. I trust you.” Steve’s heart warms up at how fast you answered his question. He nods before sliding a few more teasing thrusts into your folds and clit before slowly sliding his tip into your slit. He stops to look at your face that’s contorted into a frown. He leans down your face to kiss your frown away and kisses your lips as well, hoping to distract you from the pain. 

 Steve pushes his cock deeper when he feels you relax under him. He pushes slowly and stops when he’s fully in, groaning when your walls hug his member tightly. “Fuck!” He hisses before looking at you. “You okay?” He asks, smiling when you nod at him, eyes closed. He kisses your lips before pulling halfway and thrusting into you once more, earning a little whimper from you.

 “How are you feeling, baby?” You try to ignore the nickname, opening your eyes and looking straight at his eyes. “G-good. Please move, Stevie.” You press your palms against his chest. He pulls halfway out before shoving himself inside you again, repeating this action until you’re moaning loudly under him and clutching his biceps for support.

 Steve feels your walls fluttering around him, alarming him that you’re close. He knows he’s close as well so he helps you reach your peak by rubbing your clit with his fingers, groaning at how your walls tighten around him.

 Steve listens to your cries of pleasure as your walls clamp down on his cock as you cum, making him cum as well and milking him. Your body shakes under him and both of you breathe heavily as you try to catch your breath. He falls to your side, his arms enveloping around you to pull you against his chest into a warm and strong embrace.  

 “It’s official. We just consummated our marriage... I’m all yours just as much as you’re all mine.” He stares at your face, watching your eyes as you fight yourself from falling asleep.

 “I fucking love you, little girl.” He lazily says, brushing your face with his fingers. You stare at him sleepily, listening to the beat of his heart.

  “The fuck is he doing?” Your father grumbles as he watches Steve prance around the kitchen.

 “He’s making our daughter breakfast. I think our daughter broke him.” Your mother snickers at the way your father looks at Steve in disbelief. 

 “You tellin’ me that he touched Y/N?!” Your father fumes, getting ready to walk up to the man in the kitchen before your mother stops him.

 “Oh, hunny. Would you stop that? They’re married. And Y/N is an adult. They both are. They can do anything they want. And I can see that Steve really loves our daughter. The way he acted after Y/N got shot. Not to mention the part where he literally saved our asses. Your ass.” Your mother berates your father who just huffs in response before leaving. Your mother chuckles before following her husband, ready to give him a piece of her mind.

  “You made cookies without me?” Steve’s heart flutters as you pout at him. “I want to make cookies too…” You mumble under your breath. You just woke up from your sleep when Steve entered the room with a plate full of cookies.

 “I didn’t want you getting into any accidents, little girl.” Steve chuckles when you take one cookie before grumpily munching on it. He watches as your eyes light up before covering it up with a frown. “Will you stop calling me little girl?”

 “Never.” He simply says. You huff and Steve couldn’t help but to chuckle at your cuteness.

 “Your cookies aren't even that good. I make better cookies.” You mumble before taking another cookie from the plate and munching on it. Steve raises an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “I know you do, little girl. I know you do.” He smiles at you before making a move to sit beside you. 

 “No! Wait! Stay there.” You point a finger at him before fumbling around the sheets as if looking for something. 

 “You okay?” Steve asks, eyes shooting open when you jump out of the bed to stand in front of him, only the sheets covering your body. You realize this and quickly pull on the hoodie from last night before looking back at Steve with a grin.

 “Hi,” You start, earning a confused look from Steve. “Hello?” He chuckles when you look at him with so much excitement that you’re literally bouncing on your toes.

 “I want to give you something.” 

 “What is it?” Steve watches your fist as you hold it against his face before opening it, revealing a gold ring that looks to be vintage or a hundred years old.

 “Where’d that come from, little girl?” Steve whispers.

 “Can I put it on you? Will you marry me too?” You ignore his question, too excited to listen to anything. Steve laughs before nodding, watching you with adoration as you giddily put the ring on him. 

 “There! So pretty! You’re so pretty, Stevie!” You continue to admire the ring on his finger when he takes your chin with said hand, making you look up at him. 

 “Thank you, little girl.” He leans down to press a kiss on your lips before pulling away with a smile.

 “My father gave it to me.” You blurt out, making Steve’s eye widen just a bit. 

 “Your father?” He asks, not sure about what’s happening.

 “Yes. He came here earlier. Told me that you deserve the ring and that you should never make him regret anything?” Steve listens to you, you obviously don’t know what your father did but it’s enough for Steve to understand.

 “Oh… And Stevie?” He looks at you, smiling and asking you if you need something.

 “I love you too.” You grin at him.

 Steve stares at you for a moment before feeling tears sliding down his cheeks.

 He makes a quick move towards you, pulling you in a tight embrace and pampering your face with kisses.

 “I love you, little girl. Thank you for saying it back.” He mumbles against your hair before pressing a kiss on your lips once more.

 “Stop calling me little girl!” You grumble against him.

 He only chuckles at you before shaking his head. “No. You’ll always be my little girl.”

 ----

a/n: omfg if you finished all that, congratulations you just wasted a whole lot of ur time but thanks for wasting it on me 3;-)

[camthesolemnone]

*crashes through door*

HI I HAVE ANOTHER ONE!!

Ok. Soulmate AU!! it's the one with the red string connecting you to your soul mate by your pinkie. Make up some rules for it if you need to!! I like to do the thing where the string gets tighter/looser as they move closer and farther from their s/o.

Ok, goodnight, I love you, bye!

*mwah*

*passes out just outside door*

Whoops accidentally made Zhanna older than Heavy in this one. Well I mean, maybe she is, but I've always written Mikhail as the oldest child in his family. Anyway, enjoy!

Wide eyes full of tears and flushed cheeks was what Mama came across upon turning to face who was tugging at her shawl. Little Zhanna, no more than five, was highly concerned about her baby brother.

"Mama! Misha’s finger is blue!"

Fearing that her son had developed gangrene from the cold brought on by the heavy storm outside, the distressed mother turned away from her soup pot and made haste towards the living room.

"Zhanna! Go get your father!" She instructed, entering the space, and the small girl nodded rapidly as she dashed off to where Papa was doing laundry.

Mama approached her child. The infant was situated in the center of the carpet, tiny hands shaking and eyes also leaking. Mikhail couldn't form words yet. He could only helplessly wail as he became light-headed; he had lost all feeling in his pinkie finger.

Mama kneeled down near him, and Zhanna and Papa appeared a second later.

"What is going on! Is moy syn alright?" The older man cried.

Mama took the boy’s hands in her own and examined them closely. As Zhanna had announced, his left pinkie was a light shade a blue. At the base of Mikhail’s finger was a small red string, fastened so tightly that it constricted the blood flow. The Russian mother breathed a sigh of relief.

“There is nothing to fear, he has simply acquired his soulstring,” Mama explained, standing up and giving her family a reassuring nod.

Papa let out his own held breath at the fortunate news, but Zhanna simply stared at her parents in confusion.

“Mama, what is a soulstring?”

Her father reached out to grasp her mother’s hand, and the two of them smiled down at their daughter.

“Young Zhanna, a soulstring is leetle red string around your pinkie that connects you to your soulmate: the person you are destined to fall in love with. Some people’s thread appears immediately after birth, but for others, it can take several years before their special partner is chosen,” Mama revealed.

Papa added on, motioning to Mikhail in the process.

“The tighter the string is, the farther you are away from your soulmate. Seeing as your brother’s is strong enough to cut off circulation, there is good chance his soulmate does not live in this country.”

Zhanna glanced over at the thread on Mikhail’s finger and then back to her parents, crossing her arms.

“What happens to the string when you find your ‘soulmate?’“ Zhanna inquired.

Papa crouched down to ruffle his daughter’s hair while Mama picked up Mikhail and left the room to resume dinner.

“Once you meet fated love, the string falls off for good,” he explained.

The small girl beamed and ran a hand through her black hair.

“Chudesno! I can’t wait to get my soulstring!”

.

Mikhail had given up on his chances of ever finding his love or feeling his finger again.

Forty seven years had passed since the red string initially appeared on his pinkie, and not once had he ever felt it loosen up. He felt hopeless and silently wondered most days if the higher beings had made a mistake. Maybe he truly wasn’t attached to anyone and they had tied the thread just to spite him. Instead, the Russian decided to spend his time taking care of his family.

His father had long since passed and Yana and Bronislava had run off with their soulmates, but at least Mikhail could still provide for his mother and Zhanna.

An ad in the newspaper intrigued him one morning: a mercenary job in America offering thousands. The giant immediately took to calling the company, known as Mann Co., and asked for a position. Not only would he be able to make enough money to provide a comfortable life for Mama and his sister, he was delighted at the opportunity to wield guns against evil men with no consequence. Moving away from the Russian blizzards would also prove to be a positive change.

Within two months of his interview, the new Heavy Weapons Specialist was landing down in New Mexico. A few days were spent getting used to his new surroundings and signing paperwork, but eventually, the bus came by his hotel to take him to the Reliable Excavation Demolition base. 

While lounging in the tough leather seat, Heavy glanced at the surrounding seats and took notice of two other men sitting in the back. They both wore red and yellow bands on their arms, indicating they were some of Mikhail’s new teammates. Preferring not to spend a year with a group of people who disliked him, the Russian moved to the back of the bus to make a good first impression.

“Privet, I am Heavy Weapons Guy,” he began.

The two men looked up from their respective pieces of literature. The younger of the two lazily held and flipped a baseball magazine with one hand. The other man, taller and masked, was gripping a thick, plain-covered novel.

“Yo! I heard that our Heavy was supposed to be, well, you know, heavy, but damn you’re fa--OWW!” The Bostonian shouted, being met with a swift slap from the man sitting beside him.

“Please ignore Scout here. This rotten bunny doesn’t seem to have any manners.”

“Go to hell, you French bastard!” Scout shot back.

The insults continued and Heavy found himself silently slinking back into his seat. He had the strength to snap both of them like toothpicks if he so desired, but it was better not to end his career before it started.

Along the ride, the bus stopped several times to pick up the rest of the RED team. First came their pyromaniac and engineer, then the sniper and soldier. The demolition’s expert came by himself and the final stop was saved for a relatively young woman in a purple dress.

“Er, hello, everyone. I am Miss Pauling, your boss’s secretary. I’m scheduled to give you guys a tour around the base and to break down your jobs. Raise your hand if you have any questions and please, try to cooperate with one another,” the woman sighed.

Dell, the shortest man on the team with a yellow hardhat, raised his hand.

“Yes, Engineer?” Miss Pauling prompted.

“Isn’t there supposed to be one more fella here with us?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Miss Pauling glanced toward the ceiling briefly as if she were really pondering the answer before turning to Engineer.

“Medic’s flight got delayed due to a massive snowstorm in Berlin. He should be here tomorrow at the earliest.”

It was impossible to notice the difference just by looking at it, but Mikhail nearly jerked forward when he felt it. Was he really going insane in his desperation? Had the string really just loosened? It most certainly had, he had felt the pressure ease up ever so slightly, but something in the back of his mind that told him it was just his imagination. The giant shook his head and groaned, barely able to pay attention to anything else Miss Pauling said.

His mind became a battlefield of longing versus absurdity. The thread had suffocated him during his prime. There was no possible explanation as to why his soulmate would be appearing now of all times. By forty seven, Mikhail was overweight, balding, had several scars from his time in Siberia, and was rated ugly by every woman he had attempted to romance. He couldn’t think of a single reason as to why his love would find him attractive now, and it deepened the eternal hole in his heart.

But Heavy held onto the faintest thread of hope. Maybe, just maybe, his suffering was about to come to an end. He would meet with the woman or man fate had binded him to, and he could finally be happy.

That night, Mikhail stared at his bedroom ceiling wide awake. Once their team’s doctor arrived in New Mexico, he would know for certain what destiny had in store for him.

.

Ludwig’s attempt at getting some shut eye on the flight failed. He couldn’t fall asleep even if he wanted to, for his pinkie was regaining its color. Somehow, this job as a battlefield medic that he had selected out of the blue was leading his soul to its missing half.

“It’s only a matter of time,” he murmured to himself, eyes more hopeful than the day he earned his doctorate’s degree.

.

Heavy awoke to the sound of loud yelling and banging on his door.

“Attention! You will be dressed and be stationed in the recreational room for role call in five minutes! That is an order!” Soldier commanded.

The softer, more compassionate voice of Miss Pauling sighed and spoke through the door.

“I’m sorry Heavy. I couldn’t say anything to convince him not to come with me to wake you guys up. Just settle down in the rec room in a few minutes, okay?”

Mikhail groaned, both from a lack of sleep and the sudden wake-up call. He complied, however, adorning his red, short sleeved shirt, his bulletproof vest, the bandolier for his minigun, pants, a belt, and a pair of sturdy combat boots.

When the heavy weapon’s specialist arrived in the rec room, it was absolute chaos. Spy had moved on from insulting Scout to bickering with Sniper, Demoman was already sloshing around a bottle of alcohol, Scout had stolen Engineer’s hardhat and was taunting him with it, and Soldier was shouting at a terrified looking Pyro.

“RED Team! Enough! It’s only the first day and you’re already at each other’s throats!” Miss Pauling stomped, placing her hands on her hips.

Some the the mercenaries, including Heavy, faced towards their higher-up while the others continued to do their own thing.

“Now look, your first battle will begin as soon as Medic arrives. I’m heading over to the airport to pick him up, so I advise you all check over your equipment,” her words more of a command than a suggestion.

Heavy’s eyes widened. He felt it again. 

He decided in that moment that polishing Sascha could wait.

Before Miss Pauling could leave the room, the large man scurried over to her and placed a massive hand on her shoulder to grab her attention.

“Yes, Heavy? Do you need something?” She asked plainly.

Mikhail nodded, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Da, I want to come to airport with you, if you do not mind. I promise not to cause any problems.”

Pauling raised an eyebrow.

“Pozhaluysta, Miss,” the Russian begged, rubbing his forever blue pinkie with his other hand.

Miss Pauling opened her mouth to speak, but her words died on her lips when she noticed the tiny gesture. Instead, she gave him a short nod of understanding and proceeded out of the building.

.

In the car, Heavy’s leg bounced. His breathing was deep, and his whole body seemed to sweat with fear and anticipation. With every inch the vehicle moved, he could feel the burden on his finger lighten up. This wasn’t just some illusion or dream, it was really happening. After forty seven years of waiting, he was about to meet the love of his life.

Miss Pauling took note of his anxiousness, but didn’t say anything during the trip, giving Mikhail plenty of time to ask himself a million questions. What would his lover look like? Would they be a man or a woman? Would they have a heart of gold, or a rotten core that sought to make the Russian miserable at every turn?

Finally, the airport was in sight. Mikhail could hardly withstand the separation between himself and his soulmate. He wanted, needed to find his other half. He needed to shower them with all of the affection he had been waiting so long to administer. He needed to hear their voice and inhale their scent and feel their body against his own.

Miss Pauling nearly tripped over her high heels trying to catch up with the eager Russian. She had seem some truly heartwarming instances of soulmates meeting over the years, but never before in her life had she seen someone so desperate to unite with their fated love.

.

He had to hold onto a railing as he stepped out of the plane to avoid passing out. 

Ludwig had always experienced air-sickness while flying, but more than that, his hand was trembling. The string that had plagued his right hand for decades was loose, looser than it had ever been before. The doctor was overwhelmed; he wanted to throw up and cry tears of happiness at the same time. This was his moment, his soulmate was waiting for him.

As he stood near the loading gate, the thread loosened further, and it signaled that his soon-to-be lover was getting closer, closer.

Unable to withhold his excitement, Medic dashed across the airport. He got caught up in several crowds and passed right by the luggage pickup, but none of that mattered. He was following his heart’s call now; he let the slackening of his bindings guide his every step.

.

“Heavy! Please slow down!” Miss Pauling yelled, but the giant had blocked her out a long time ago.

There was only one voice he was willing to let in now. He pushed past a group of adults with the tiniest apology as he charged up the stairs. If he were anywhere else, he would have most likely been stared at and thrown out by security. In the chaos of the airport, everyone assumed he was simply running to reunite with a loved one.

An opening in the crowds.

Everything went silent.

The world slowed down.

Mikhail spotted him, his soulmate across the grand building. He was more handsome than he could have ever imagined, and although he didn’t know it yet, Ludwig also firmly believed that he had just encountered an angel.

The soulstring unraveled and landed on the ground.

All remaining distance between them was covered in a second. The force of the impact sent them to the ground, but neither of them cared. Arms wrapped around strong bodies, tears spilled out of adoring eyes, and lips whispered the pledges of love they had so desperately longed to hear.

At last, Mikhail and Ludwig were home.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s Belonging Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 归属之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

This date makes important references to his birthday R&S, so do read that first!

Victor’s 2021 birthday collection:

🐼 r&s l belonging date ♡ l video call l moments and texts l asmr

[ Released in CN on 8 Jan 2021 ]

Early in the morning on the weekend, I push a cardboard box into Victor’s living room, straightening up and heaving a sigh.

MC: I seem to have prepared too many ribbons... I'll just blow fewer balloons.

Scanning the slightly empty and spacious room, I retrieve decorations from within the cardboard box.

Victor has been busy with business trips recently. Even though I know he’d return on his birthday, I still feel a little uneasy.

In order to avert the abrupt circumstances like last year, I called him in advance to tell him about my “action plan”.

He seems to have gotten used to the festive rituals I insist upon, and has agreed to let me decorate his home. 

Just as I plan to straighten up the cushions on the sofa, the doorbell suddenly rings. 

MC: Who is it?

??: Hello, there’s a package for Mr Victor.

I open the door, and the deliveryman hands over a cardboard box. The logo of Loveland City’s zoo is printed on it. 

MC: This is...

Deliveryman: It was sent late, I’m really sorry about it! There’s been some issues at the transfer point. It should have been sent to you at the start of the year.

A little puzzled, I nod and take the box. This seems to be the first time I’m seeing a package from the zoo.

After signing for the package, I take a picture of the box and send it to Victor. 

Not long after, the phone buzzes.

Victor: Leave the box at the entrance. I’ll handle it after I’m back. 

MC: Sure, but why would the zoo send you a delivery?

Victor: I adopted a panda, so the zoo sends some merchandise every year.

MC: So they actually send such things... zoo merchandise is always in limited supply, and I’ve had to rely on snatching them up whenever I visit.

Perhaps hearing the envy in my tone, Victor chuckles softly. 

Victor: In that case, you can open it up and look if there’s anything you haven’t snatched up.

MC: Can I? I’ll open it on your behalf then!

With a few movements, I open the cardboard box. All sorts of animal plush toys are stored inside, with panda-related items featuring most often.

My line of sight roams the box, and I notice a small album.

There are pictures of one big and one small panda in the album. It records their everyday lives - eating bamboo, climbing trees, rolling around... it’s like a diary.

MC: Victor, there’s an album here too. There are two pandas in it. Which one did you adopt?

Victor: Both of them.

MC: You adopted two?

Victor: Mm, the big one was the one I mentioned to you before. The small one is its child.

Digesting this information, I mutter softly.

MC: I wonder who mentioned not having feelings towards animals...

Victor: Animals no, people yes. Providing help to endangered animals is a very normal thing.

MC: Only providing help?

Victor: ...what else?

MC: Nothing, I just think CEO Victor is really considerate to specially provide help to a father-son duo~

There’s a temporary silence at the other end of the line. I can almost picture Victor’s speechless expression at this moment. 

Victor: Say it, what kind of wicked plan have you come up with this time?

MC: It’s a serious idea! Victor, let’s find a time to visit them? I also wish to meet these two “investees” who have caught your eye.

Victor: You’re truly giving yourself more and more excuses to go out to play.

MC: I can’t?

Victor: ...forget it, we’ll go together if you want to see them.

After ending the call, I retrieve a few panda plush toys from the box, display them on the sofa, then straighten the seats. Finally, I nod in satisfaction. 

As compared to vibrantly coloured decorations, Victor should prefer these adorable plush toys.

-

A few more pages are torn from the calendar, and it’s finally Victor’s birthday.

I checked the information of his flight beforehand. Since it’s not yet time for the plane to land, I prepare to send my report to him first.

The sound of my phone vibrating enters my ears. Seeing the familiar name flashing on the screen, I pick up the call in slight confusion.

MC: Victor? You’ve already reached?

Victor: I just reached. Slightly earlier than expected. 

MC: This means I'm the first person to receive your call~ I’ll just say it first - I’ve already prepared my report, and just have to tap the send button.

Victor: Looks like you have a lot of confidence in this report. Since you're done with work, head out with me in the afternoon.

I freeze for a moment. This year, Victor’s birthday happens to be on a working day. I originally planned to celebrate with him in the evening after work.

I didn’t expect that Victor, who has always been serious about work, would think of having a day of rest. I can’t help but tease him.

MC: Is CEO Victor skipping work? 

Victor: I’m giving you a break too. A certain someone has been rushing work for so many days, and I’m letting you rest for a while.

My heart stirs, and I seem to understand something.

MC: Seems like I'm not the only person looking forward to today?

After a moment of silence on the other end of the line, his voice sounds, carrying with it a smile. 

Victor: I shouldn’t be the only one wanting to meet earlier either. I’ll get my luggage, and will see you in around two hours.

-

At the agreed time, Victor’s car appears punctually at the bottom of the office building.

I jog and get into the car. He sits on the driver’s seat quietly, his coat half open, revealing a somewhat familiar grey coloured shirt.

There seems to be some tiny creases at his collar that haven’t been ironed smoothly, but the angle at which the collar encases his neck looks very suitable.

Perhaps due to the rays of light falling on his shoulders, or perhaps due to the warm wind blowing in the car, the image before me feels especially warm despite it being winter.

I pull on his arm to take a look, then nod in satisfaction.

MC: Who picked this shirt? It feels as though it makes CEO Victor look especially dashing!

Victor looks at me, the corners of his lips tugging upwards.

Victor: Blowing your own trumpet.

MC: You wore it yourself. Doesn’t this prove that the choice of gift was a success?

Victor: I wonder who splayed it on the middle of the bed, only missing a note saying “Wear this today”.

MC: So do you like it or not?

Victor: Passable.

I purse my lips, pulling aside my own coat. Deliberately straightening up, I beckon him to look at the matching shirt I’m wearing.

MC: Cough cough. Is it really just “passable”?

Victor seems to be taken aback for a moment. Then, a smile quickly softens his expression.

Victor: The car isn’t warm yet. Don’t rush to remove your coat.

He reaches out to pull up the zipper. With a pause, he pulls it down slightly, stopping at the chest region.

I follow his gaze and lower my head to take a look. Like this, it just happens to reveal my shirt.

Glancing at our similar colours, I can’t help but laugh secretly in my heart.

Victor: In general, there’s an improvement in taste. A little better than what I expected.

MC: Thank you for your praise, CEO Victor. In that case, should I maintain this standard in the future?

Victor: You can. All right, let’s go. Fasten your safety belt.

MC: Where are we going?

Victor: Didn’t you want to see the pandas? There will be fewer visitors in the zoo on a working day.

While Victor speaks, he starts the car, inputting the destination into the navigation system.

MC: We’re going right now? But today... I thought you’d prefer a quieter birthday.

Victor: By “quieter”, do you mean by displaying a huge bunch of plush toys at home?

MC: They’re so cute, so I accidentally...

I grin while meeting his look of distaste, and something occurs to me.

MC: But if we're going there today, I could get to know your panda friends by matching them against the photographs.

Seeing me take out the photo album from my bag and giving it a flip, Victor raises his brows in slight shock.

Victor: You even brought their photographs around?

MC: I was originally going to make you a mini photo wall, but couldn’t finish it in time. I planned to bring you the photographs in the evening, so I put them in my bag. Come to think of it, I don’t know what names you gave them.

[Note] This is a contradiction?? Because MC clearly mentioned Little Vick in a pretty old Moment post...

Victor: I didn’t give them names.

MC: Why not?

Victor: I only paid the adoption fees. The rest depends entirely on the zoo staff’s care, so there’s no need to leave them with anything.

MC: But if they don’t have names, how would you recognise them later?

Victor: Do you rely on names to recognise people?

MC: Oo... It’s mainly the face I guess.

Victor: Animals are the same. If you observe their unique traits, you’ll naturally be able to identify them.

The afternoon sunlight is somewhat glaring. I lift my head to avoid the light, and look at Victor in the rearview mirror.

He has a serious expression, but for some reason, I think of a particular fine and sunny weekend we once had, when the light also encased us like this. 

At that time, the person beside me had used an ink-less brush, secretly leaving a mark related to him on me.

The car pauses at the crossing, waiting for the red light. Victor straightens the visor for me, turning his head to meet my gaze. 

Victor: Why are you staring at me?

MC: I suddenly thought about how someone doesn’t name pandas, yet would write his own name on my face. Doesn’t this mean I’m important to him?

Victor: Good that you know it.

The red light flickers. Victor averts his gaze, staring at the front. Suddenly, he laughs.

Victor: But from what I see now, I’ve already been influenced by a dummy.

The visor shields me from the glaring sunlight, and also makes my vision clearer.

Whether it’s the matching shirt or the Shiba Inu keychain swinging on the car keys...

These seemingly trivial, ordinary and small details clearly reflect the traces that I’ve left on him.

-

Even though it’s a working day, there are still quite a number of people visiting the pandas in the zoo.

Following the crowd, we take a slow stroll. Many children run past us happily.

Right after walking to the panda area, I see many people congregated at the railings and observing.

Pulling Victor over, rounded panda “dumplings” immediately attract my full attention.

A few young pandas are currently climbing and having fun on wooden poles. Occasionally, they’d bump into each other and roll onto the ground. After exerting energy to flip over, they’d once again climb to the location of their choice.

As if intoxicated and stupefied, I stare at them for a very long time before remembering that the panda baby Victor had adopted could be in their midst. Hurriedly, I take out the photographs from my bag to make comparisons.

However, the pandas before me seem to be carved from the same mold. The colour of their fur are the same, and they are similar in size. There seems to be too much to take in.

I turn my head to look at Victor, who’s next to me. He seems to guess what I’m thinking, and speaks straight away.

Victor: You haven’t identified it?

MC: It’s a little difficult.

Victor points at a panda which is currently climbing a wooden pole.

Victor: That one.

MC: How can you be so certain?

Victor: It injured its leg a few months ago. During the treatment, there was a need to trim the fur around the injury. Look at its hind leg - some of its fur is newly grown.

Fixing my eyes on it, the back of the panda’s right hind leg has a small tuft of relatively shorter fur. Without a careful look, one would think it’s a normal dip.

Flipping and looking through the photos, I realise that it’s actually the case.

Just as I’m about to awe at how Victor is truly perceptive to the finest detail, I suddenly realise something. 

MC: Wait, you mentioned that it’s been a few months... Have you always been keeping watch on them?

Victor: The staff will regularly provide feedback on their situation.

MC: So your e-mail isn’t filled only with reports from employees.

Victor: My life doesn’t just consist of work.

He doesn’t respond to my teasing gaze, and he continues looking at the pandas playing freely and leisurely in the garden.

Victor: Are you here to look at the pandas or me?

I respond without giving it much thought.

MC: Both!

Victor: ...

Victor shakes his head in resignation, pulling on my hand as we weave through the crowd.

Victor: There are too many people here. Let’s walk forward.

We walk and pause, following the park’s signboards. Gradually, a patch of empty land appears in my view.

A staff member is currently stacking bamboo next to tree trunks and wooden poles, as though waiting for the pandas to feast.

I tug on Victor to stop. After staying in place for a while, I see a big panda pacing over slowly.

It doesn’t seem to care about how many people are watching it. It heads towards the food, picking a comfortable position to sit down.

Flipping to the photograph of the Daddy Panda eating bamboo, I lift it up to compare it with the panda in front of me.

MC: Victor, isn’t this the panda Uncle gave to you? Its posture of leaning against the tree trunk is exactly the same as in the photo!

Victor leans down and looks over, nodding lightly.

Victor: Yes.

MC: Really? We’re so lucky to meet both of them.

Just as Victor is about to say something, the voice of a small boy suddenly drifts towards us.

Small boy: Little... Vick. Its name is Little Vick!

I’m stunned for a moment, turning my head to find the source of the voice. A small boy is being carried in the arms of his parents, reading out the name based on a nearby board.

Information regarding the pandas on duty are written on the board. Its name is found at the very top, and it’s a name I couldn’t be more familiar with.

[Note] The reason why MC finds it familiar is clearer in Chinese. Victor’s name is 李泽言 (Li Ze Yan),  and the panda’s Chinese name is 言言 (Yan Yan)

Because he read the correct words, the small boy is complimented by his parents. He continues reading.

Small boy: Its a boy... and its birthday is 13 January! It’s Little Vick’s birthday today!

Turning back to look at Victor, he currently has an uncomfortable expression on his face, and he clears his throat softly.

Victor: ...my dad named it.

MC: And it happens to have the same birthday?

Victor: Mm.

I try to suppress my laughter, lowering my voice and calling out to Little Vick a few times while it’s engrossed in bamboo.

MC: Little Vick-- We’re here to see you--

Victor: [sighs] ...

MC: Little Vick-- Wishing you a happy birthday--

Victor: Childish.

Victor pretends to have a stern look his poker face, but I can still see the gradually reddening tips of his ears.

I laugh while standing in front of him, straightening my back under his reluctant gaze.

MC: On behalf of myself and Little Vick, we also wish Mr Victor a happy birthday. Don’t feel embarrassed. Your father used your name to name your favourite thing. It’s called “loving the house and its crows”. 

[Note] MC uses an idiom, 爱屋及乌 ( “ai wu ji wu”), which literally translates to “love the house and the crows”. This conveys the depth of someone’s love to the point where you like everything related to that person.

Victor: Do you apply the same principle when you enthusiastically name all sorts of objects?

MC: I don’t just name everything. After all, I also “love the house and its crows”. For instance, I used to think that all pandas were very adorable... But right now, I think Little Vick is the cutest.

Only after saying all this in one breath do I feel slightly embarrassed. I hurriedly turn around, taking out my phone to take pictures of Little Vick, wanting to hide the heat on my face. 

While snapping photos, I watch for Victor’s reaction. But even after a long time, there isn’t a sound from behind me, and I can’t help but turn around.

“Kacha.”

The golden, dazzling sunlight spreads from behind him, glinting brightly around his raised phone.

Before I can prepare my expression, I see Victor’s phone camera facing me.

He retracts his phone, smiling as he looks at the screen.

MC: [blushing] You... you snuck a photo of me!

Seeing that I’m reaching out to snatch his phone, Victor grabs my wrist, quickly keeping his phone in his pocket.

Victor: This is just a response to your words earlier.

MC: What does that mean?

Victor smiles, his deep eyes filled with my profile.

Victor: It means that there are many dummies in the world... But I only like the one in front of me.

-

Returning home from the zoo, VIctor’s sudden words repeatedly circle my mind.

In order for him not to realise my state of mind, I take out the ingredients I had prepared in advance the moment I reach home, preparing to burrow into the kitchen to cook.

Victor naturally walks to my side, wanting to take the bags in my hand. I frantically press down on his hand.

MC: Hold on, don’t help. I’ll do it myself!

Victor: There are so many things and you want to do it yourself?

MC: Don’t worry, I’ve practiced at home and can guarantee that I have a knowledge of the fundamentals, and won’t blow up your kitchen. Also, you’re the elderly person whose birthday is being celebrated. So you shouldn’t work. Oh yes, aside from this shirt, I’ve also hidden a few presents at home. Want to look for them? 

[Note] MC REALLY USED THE WORD 寿星 ( “shou xing”) which could mean “God of Longevity” or “elderly person whose birthday is being celebrated” LOL

I say everything in one breath, not giving him a chance to retort.

Under my expectant gaze, Victor sighs in resignation, then says a few more words before leaving the kitchen.

-

With the fastest speed I can manage, I finish cooking. While bringing the dishes to the table, Victor places some gift boxes onto the sofa.

Victor: I’ve found three. That’s all, isn’t it?

MC: Not just these. You could look in other rooms.

Victor: [sighs] Looks like you really planned to prepare a hundred gifts.

MC: I didn’t do it on purpose. When I saw those things, I subconsciously  thought of you. But right now, I should invite CEO Victor to test my culinary skills!

After the meal, Victor finds a few more gifts. After giving them a count, I realise there’s still one more missing.

Victor: Why are there more?

MC: The final gift is very critical. I’ll help you get it.

I head straight to Victor’s bedroom. Removing the blanket, I retrieve a long box from a crevice at the corner of the bed.

Victor has his arms crossed over his chest as he stands at the side, watching as I make a show of straightening the ribbon on the gift box.

MC: Don’t worry, there aren’t any weird presents this time. Before, I was always sending you things I liked, but those things weren’t what you liked. So this year, I want to give you some gifts that you need.

Opening the gift box, I take out the tie that I picked out, and display it from all angles. 

MC: There aren’t pictures of happy faces, and it doesn’t have a strange colour. You can wear it to work!

Victor looks at me, then walks to the side of the bed and leans down.

Victor: Since a certain someone is doing her utmost to recommend it, I shall see how it looks. 

MC: I’ll put it on for you!

It’s rare for Victor to be interested in my presents. I immediately climb up from the bed, flipping his collar up and fastening the tie.

This distance makes the side of his face close enough to touch. His warm breaths are on my shoulder, and I have to force myself to focus on the tie.

With much difficulty, I tie the tie into a basic shape. Victor’s low voice suddenly drifts to my ear. 

Victor: This seems to be the first time I’m seeing you wear a proper shirt.

MC: It looks good, doesn’t it?

Victor doesn’t respond. He simply smiles, tidying the back of my collar.

Victor: It’s also the first time I’ve seen you cooking without being clumsy.

MC: Of course I needed to perform properly when cooking in your kitchen. 

Victor: It’s also the first time we’re visiting the zoo on a day-off from work.

MC: It’s already the fourth year, and there are still so many firsts?

Victor: Is that a bad thing? Since they are all first times, you can create so-called surprises.

The words at my ear, bringing with them a smile, create ripples in my heart. My hands pause, and I lift my head to look at him.

MC: May I ask CEO Victor - does this mean you’re satisfied with today?

Victor: This isn’t about whether I’m satisfied.

Victor pulls down my hand which is holding onto the tie, beckoning me to sit down.

Just as I plan to scoot over to give him some space, I realise that he has seated down directly on the carpet next to the bed.

MC: Someone always reminds me that the floor is cold. So why is he still sitting on the floor?

Victor: The first time you came to my house, you seem to have said similar words.

While speaking, he tugs the blanket upwards before it slides down my shoulder.

Lowering my head to look at him, the “first time” he’s referring to surfaces in my mind.

The CEO who wilfully lay down on the floor to settle work, and also wilfully had a light sleep in the middle of the piano tune.

He lifts his head to look at me, his teasing gaze unconcealed and bright in the light. The tie, which hasn’t been fastened properly, hangs loosely on his neck.

Without even realising it, his relaxed appearance has become something I've grown used to.

Images in my memories and the person before me gradually match up. I can’t suppress the smile creeping onto my lips, but complain about him anyway.

MC: Victor, you’re really wilful sometimes.

Victor: I learnt it from someone.

MC: ...cough cough. Back to the earlier topic! Could the elderly birthday person please assess today’s plans, and let me gain some experience.

Victor: Everything about today, whether the itinerary or the gifts - I’m very happy with them. Not just today. Every year before this as well.

MC: If you put it that way, I can’t tell how to make it even better. After all, even though it’s been so long, you’ve never directly mentioned what you like.

Victor chuckles softly.

Victor: There’s no need to mention them. When it comes to these things, your efforts always surpass my expectations. Also, the feelings and time you expend - they are even more precious gifts than anything else.

A clamour of emotions ferment in my chest, and I finally peek my head out from the blanket.

MC: Am I one step closer to moving you to tears?

Victor: Judging from your skills in tying a tie, you’re still very far from it. But this is already very good.

As the curtain of night falls, the world outside the window gradually becomes quiet. The ticking of the clock’s secondhand at the bedside becomes clearer.

I glance at the time, and it’s already quite late. 

MC: Today’s coming to an end. I’m a little reluctant to part with with it.

Victor: Reluctant to part with the off-day?

MC: Nope. I just feel as though you’ll get busy again after today... You won’t just be my Victor.

I mutter softly, but Victor still hears it. He curls his finger and taps my forehead.

Victor: Who says I'm not? From work to life, which part lacks a certain person’s shadow? Also, other than you, I've never belonged to anyone.

MC: Does this count as a return gift from an elderly man celebrating his birthday?

Victor: It’s just the truth.

I smile while tightening the blanket over myself, shuffling towards him quietly.

MC: But the opportunities to spend time with you without any worries like this are very limited. How do you want to spend the remainder of today?

Victor looks at me, then straightens up to sit with me at the side of the bed.

Victor: For the rest of the time, let’s just stay like this.

I subconsciously loosen my grip on the blanket. He takes the blanket, leans closer to me, and bundles me in it tightly.

The irritating sound of the secondhand suddenly vanishes. In the tranquil night, only the light in the eyes of the person next to me continues flowing and glinting.

Victor: Being without any worries like you wanted - it can be prolonged a little. Also, not just today. Anytime in the future - as long as you want it, it can be done.

🐼 Phone call: here

🐼 Support the cafe by dropping by the tip jar!

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Crown For Two {1}

Henry Cavill AU x OFC Xari Thornton AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Cheesy Christmas Themes, 

Words: 6.1k

Summary: Xari Thornton is a travel photographer with a blog and social media that garners some heavy-duty traffic. People tune in to see where she is and what she’s doing there, all in hopes of either living vicariously through her or to plan their next vacation.  

Her slogan; “Traveling the path to the most off-beaten places, so you don’t have to.”  

Her next stop on her four destination travel itinerary of “Places You May Never Have Heard Of” is Sandvell, a small European country. When her plane makes an impromptu stop due to bad weather, she has no idea where she is. It feels like she’s stepped inside of a snow globe and back in time in a modern way. It leaves her fascinated. 

This bad weather forces her to stay at an Inn, The Beaux, for the night. Rather than letting the hours tick by in her room, she explores and meets the friendly locals. While taking photographs, one local in particular captures her lens with eyes as blue as the ocean and a jaw that was chiseled from stone. They strike up conversation during their time drinking at one of the local bars, Ickles. Once they separate, she gets herself into a harrowing situation.  

As soon as she awakens, she realizes she’s not in some fever dream, but a palace and the owner of the palace is none other than the local she met before with the piercing blue eyes, His Royal Highness Henry Wellington Leopold Danglishton, First of his name, Crown Prince of Brexendor.

Note: All right, all right people, the ride begins. I really, really hope you enjoy this. As a note, it’s going to be fast-paced a bit, and I am gonna overload you with pictures because why the hell not, it’s a Christmas Fic. 😁 Feel free to come by and tell me what you guys think.

As always, thank you all for reading, I appreciate each and every one of you.

If you enjoyed this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

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Chapter One

“You were supposed to be on your way home.”

 You rolled your eyes as you scoffed. You’d mentioned nights ago that you thought you should just go home, but then you went to your next destination. It was a moment of weakness or it could have been loneliness. Your schedule took a lot out of you. No one saw it because it was all behind the scenes. All anyone ever saw were the incredible places you went to, the fun things you experienced, and the culture you soaked up. What they grasped was whatever you posted in your pictures.

 “You know I can’t. I started this series, and it’s gotten the eye of a lot of sponsors, and one of them is even talking about some really big ideas at the end of it if it goes really well. that could be incredible for my brand,” you explained.

 Anika sighed loudly. You knew she was annoyed with you right now, especially it being December.

 “I know you’re disappointed. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

 “Whatever.”

 “Attention, ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. It looks like we’re headed right into a storm. We’ll be experiencing a little turbulence as we veer off course a little bit as we try to evade this thing. Please return to your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”

 You sighed while buckling your seatbelt, preparing for what was coming.

 “What’s happening?”

 “Going through some turbulence. It should be fine,” you assured your sister.

 “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to hang up.”

 You nodded to the flight attendant and promptly ended the call promising your sister that you’d call her back when you landed in Sandvell. As soon as you hung up, the turbulence began. It started out with slight bumps, that you could sip your drink through. Then graduated to bigger bumps that had you gripping the elbow rests. When the entire plane started to shake, your heart leaped into your throat. One minute passed, then two, and after five minutes or so, the speaker came back on.

 “Ladies and gentleman, your captain again. We’re going to be landing shortly. This storm is not one to be messed with. I apologize for the inconvenience, folks, but on this airline, we choose safety above all else.”

 You weren’t going to argue with him. You definitely didn’t want to risk your life over getting to your next destination. What was a one or two day delay? Once the pilot got to a lower altitude, the majority of the turbulence subsided. It was another ten minutes before the plane landed, but when it did, all you could see from the window was white overcast with darkness.

 When you had your belongings gathered and began walking off the plane along with the other fifty or so passengers, you tried to find cell service, but you had zero bars.

 “Excuse me, where are we?”

 “Uh—I’m actually not sure, ma’am. Patricia, where are we?”

 The two flight attendants looked puzzled. The second asked a third, and that third asked another. None of them seemed to know. That was not a good sign, you thought. Once you’d walked down the long corridor that served as the connection between the airport and the plane, you found yourself in one of the classiest airports you’d ever been in, and you’d been inside quite a few as a travel blogger. As far as the eye could see, it was class, with the exception of the floor.

You looked around you and marveled at the detail in the design that was around you. Where most airports were mainly logically designed without lavishness. This one looked like lavishness was the first priority. The floors looked to be made from the finest paonazzetto marble. You remembered the name because of the substantial time you’d spent in Italy trying to capture architecture through your camera lens. Reaching for your camera around your neck, you began snapping a few frames of the floor. Getting lost in picture taking, you found yourself at one of the many glass windows snapping pictures of the airplanes on the tarmac.

 Hearing the commotion of raised voices behind you, you looked back and saw the passengers of the plane you’d just disembarked from gathered in a huddle. You walked back toward them in time to catch a question from a concerned passenger.

 “How long are we delayed? When will we get back in the air? I have to get to Sandvell.”

 A man wearing a mixture of royal blue and white colors cleared his throat then spoke. “I apologize, ladies and gentlemen, for the delay. There is a storm heading right for us on the path to Sandvell. Continuing through it would be lunacy. Our only viable option is to wait it out.”

 No one seemed to like that answer. All the questions flew out at once. All their voices overlapped, and you could tell that the gentleman was overwhelmed by not only the volume of questions but also their voices.

 “According to our team here, we’re expecting possibly a twenty-four to thirty-six-hour delay.”

 Everyone groaned in unison, everyone but you. You’d traveled enough to always expect the unexpected. Things like this didn’t bother you so much now, three years into your career. The only thing that bothered you now was that you’d have to rearrange your hotel plans as well as finding somewhere to sleep tonight.

 “You said here,” you began with all eyes trained to you. “Where exactly is here?”

 The gentleman cleared his throat again. “Brexendor.”

 The crowd murmured as they looked at each other. Clearly, no one had ever heard of Brexendor. Some even pulled out their travel map to scour it for the country.

 “So what are we supposed to do now? Where do we stay?”

 “We are in the process of arranging accommodations at one of the inns within the capital. If you all would work with us so we have your names to get your luggage to you in a timely fashion so you can be shuttled over to the Inn, that would be appreciated.”

 Everyone filed into a line in front of one of the four airport staff, hoping to hurry matters along while you searched your phone for any information on where you were. When you typed in Brexendor into the search engine, the first thing that popped up was a map of the country. Apparently, it was next door to Sandvell. They were considered sister countries.

 “Population three million, run as a monarchy, considered one of the wealthiest countries in the world. Average life expectancy one hundred and ten years. Well, damn.”

 Someone clearing their throat brought your attention up in front of you. You were next in line.

 “Sorry.”

 The woman with brown eyes and blonde hair smiled warmly. “It’s all right, Ms--.”

 “Uh, Thornton, Xari Thornton.” You handed her your passport and boarding pass and waited as she scrolled through her tablet.

 “Ah yes, Ms. Thornton. Here is your paperwork. On it, you will find where you can retrieve your luggage and the shuttle number that will be taking you to the Inn. Once at the Inn, just provide your name, and you will find everything has been taken care of. On behalf of Brexendor Aviation, we humbly apologize for this snafu.”

 Her customer service training was on point, you thought. Her smile was warm, as if she really meant the words she’d just said. Finding it refreshing, you took the paperwork and proceeded to where she was motioning. Everyone you passed as you walked the fancy halls had a warm smile plastered to their face and even warmer words of welcome. You felt as if you’d stepped through into some alternate universe. You made a voice note about everything you encountered. You wanted to make sure you captured your authentic feelings and reactions in real-time. It made writing about your experience on the blog page easier. You’d even found that readers and supporters liked the play by play with your added thoughts. They commented it added personality.

Once you’d made it to the baggage claim area, your jaw dropped at the change in décor. There were Christmas trees that sparsely decorated the space, and they were all lit with the same blue, silver, and white theme. It contrasted with the latte color of the leather seats and the cream offset tables. The design gave the space an elegant but also comfortable vibe. When you slipped into one of the chairs, you released an audible moan. It was like sitting on a cloud.

 After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions through a hall lined with Christmas trees, stopping every so often to take a few pictures before you made it to the front of the airport. As you stepped outside, your eyebrows shot up seeing the fresh snow cascading from the sky. The bite in the air had you bundling your jacket tighter, but it did not stop you from snapping a few pictures. One turned to ten and ten to fifteen until another person clearing their throat brought you back to reality and to the waiting bus ahead of you.

You took a break from pictures and called the hotel in Sandvell, hoping to alter the dates of your stay. What you expected to be a hassle and a long drawn out process ending in them saying they were booked and nothing could be done, turned out to be quick, easy, and painless. The Luxembourg Hotel assured you that your room would still be available and there would be no charge for the altered dates. You made another note on your phone, a point you had to stress when you wrote your piece.

 You continued snapping pictures from the window of the bus with an easy mind. Everything you passed seemed like it didn’t belong. It all looked so old fashioned but so modern all at the same time. The buildings looked to have been standing since the beginning of time in the materials they’d been built in, but the displays were from the twenty-first century. It was the most exciting contradiction. The only word you could think to describe it was—quaint.

 When the bus drove over a bridge, you got a semi-bird’s eye view of the town across the water, and your jaw nearly dropped.

 “Brexendor? What the hell?”

 The entire drive had you widening your eyes like a child seeing an insane amount of presents on Christmas morning. Buildings were decked out in Christmas lights, and every door had a wreath with blue and silver Christmas ornaments. Almost every few feet, the sidewalks were decorated with poinsettia trees that were half the average human’s height, and the way the freshly fallen snow-dusted their tops only made it even more perfect.

 By the time the bus stopped, you’d taken so many pictures, and part of you was dreading having to go through them to choose the ones that would make the cut. You knew it was going to be a next to impossible decision. As you stepped off the bus, you felt like you’d walked right into a snow globe.

“Holy shit!”

 You spun, taking in a full three-sixty view of your surroundings. all the glistening lights and the falling snow only made it feel even more magical. You didn’t know where the hell Brexendor was or why the hell they rolled like this, but you were excited to see more. When you stopped spinning, you realized several other people were snapping pictures and looking just as marveled as you were. After gathering your luggage, you followed instructions and walked across the street to the building that a friendly looking man with slightly greying hair was standing before beckoning you inside.

 For the second time that night, you felt as if you’d stepped into a Christmas movie set. The interior was set so cozy. It felt like a Christmas cottage, and you loved it. Instinct had you reaching for your camera and taking a few shots of the Christmas tree in the corner by the fireplace and the plaid decorations on the leather couch. Even the pictures on the walls got a snap.

 “Miss?”

 Looking back to the owner, you smiled and approached the desk.

 “Hi, I’m so sorry. This place is so gorgeous.”

 “Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but it is all my wife.”

 Just then, a beautiful brunette came out wearing a bright red sweater and one of those spoof reindeer antler headbands that bounced with every move.

 “Hi, there darling. Welcome to The Beaux. I’m Anita, and this is my husband, Borik. I heard all about your ordeal. I’m so sorry.”

 You shrugged but kept your smile plastered on your face.

 “It’s all right. Can’t control the weather, right?”

 Anita smiled and nodded. “Definitely not in Brexendor.”

 “I have never heard of this place before, and I am lost how. Everything is gorgeous and so quaint. How have you stayed under the radar?”

 Anita and Borik looked at each other with an all-knowing look that you wanted in on.

 “Guess it’s just happened,” Anita cheerfully said.

 You knew they knew something. Staying this under the radar, including from America, didn’t just happen. This took work. You wondered who in charge in their right mind would make a stupid decision like that.

 “Okay, what’s your name, darling?”

 “Uh, Xari Thornton.”

 “Ah-ha, I told you, Borik. Once we were contacted with a list of names that would be checking in, and I saw your name, I told him I just know she’s gorgeous and look. You are a vision.”

 You couldn’t help but smile widely while trying to keep your head under proper proportions.

 “Thank you.”

 “You must have quite the many suitors where you’re from,” Anita continued.

 You snorted and shook your head. The reality was you were as single as the number one with no prospects.

 “No suitors here.”

 Both Borik and Anita looked shocked, as if you’d said the most appalling thing.

 “That can’t be true. Borik. She’s single and at twenty-eight. Even our Kennedy was at least engaged by the time she turned twenty-seven. Here that is unheard of. A woman is usually married by twenty-four, especially if she’s a looker.”

 You pinched your lips, trying to keep your laughter in. this was not the first time you’d been called an old maid. Hell, your mother said it often, especially since you flat out turned down Maurice’s proposal three months ago. She was livid.

 Anita must have sensed the awkwardness of the moment because she cleared her throat and brought all her attention back to the reservation.

 “Well, your room is prepared. I took the liberty of giving you one of our prettiest rooms. Would you like Borik to carry your bags up?”

 “Uh—no, I’m sure I can manage,” you began.

 Borik stood, shook his head, and came around to you.

 “I won’t hear a thing about it. I’ll happily carry your luggage up. Follow me.”

 “That’s my Borik, ever the gentleman,” Anita filled in with an enamored smile before Borik walked off, leaving her to check in a few of the other passengers from the plane.

 You listened to Borik tell the story of the Inn and how it got its name. You kept one ear on his story while you took in every detail around you. The wood looked so rustic, and you guessed that was what gave the place such a warm and welcoming feeling. The higher you climbed, the more you saw, and the more you saw, the more you liked. You followed Borik down a hall, noticing that all the doors you passed had mini wreaths decked out in the same blue and silver ornaments like at the airport and throughout the streets.

 “Ah-ha, here we are,” Borik said before he put the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Once he did, the scent of cinnamon and pine hit you in the face. It was like the hand of Christmas came out and smacked you.

 “My wife loves the smell,” Borik explained as you stepped inside. You smiled and thanked him for his help.

 “If you get hungry, you have a few options. There are plenty of places nearby you can eat some authentic Brexendorian food, but also my wife cooks every night, and dinner usually is at eight o’clock, but tonight Anette has agreed to keep some heated for anyone who would like some. It’s stew, rabbit.”

 “Oh, thumper. Wonderful.”

 Borik laughed loudly with that one. “I know that one, Bambi, the children’s cartoon. Good one Ms. Thornton.”

 You smiled. “You can call me Xari, Borik.”

 “Well, have a good night,” he said before he walked out.

 Finally alone, the first thing you did was text your sister to let her know not to worry and give her an update on what was happening. After you let Anika know what was happening, it didn’t take long for your phone to ring. The next ten or so minutes were spent talking to Anika and telling her how amazing the things you’d seen so far were. You could not shut up about the decorations, the way the snow looked to have been groomed to lay on things perfectly. It was that damn picturesque. Since you couldn’t stop talking about it, Anika was the one to suggest you go out and enjoy it before you got back on the plane. It was a suggestion you fully intended on listening to.

 Fifteen minutes later, you were back downstairs bundled with your camera and your purse, ready to explore. When you told Anita your intention, she gave you a map of the city and highlighted places to look at but cautioned you to hurry because stores would be closing soon, and nights during Brexendor winters could be brutal. You promised you’d be quick and careful, then stepped out, ready to explore like Dora.

 Your first stop was a block down, a children’s toy store. It was decked out with all the latest toys along with some traditional things that Santa would have brought specially made from his workshop. While you were snapping pictures outside the window, a kid ran up to the window and pressed his nose to it. His eyes were wide, and his mouth matched their size. You asked the adult with him if you could take a picture. When they approved, you got one or two from a few different angles before they walked off.

 As you walked through the city, enjoying the scenery, you took pictures of everything that caught your eye, ornaments, trees, people, stores, even pets. Christmas wasn’t your favorite holiday, but it was your second favorite, and being here really as inching it higher on the list.

 When you felt a strong wind hit you, it stopped you in your tracks. It was strong enough to have you stagger backward a little, allowing a chill to sweep through you. You looked around and saw a few feet away was some sort of bar, and behind it was swirling snow that looked like a tornado. You hurried toward the building, being careful not to slip on any ice that may be hiding underneath the snow. Once to the door, you walked inside, and the sound of Christmas carols filled your ears.

 “Jesus.”

 If the scent of the Inn felt like Christmas slapped you in the face, the look and sound of this place was the one two-hitter that settled that you were in a whole nother world here. You looked around and found a coat rack along the left wall. After placing your jacket and scarf on the hook, you walked to the bar and slid onto a stool. As you waited for the bartender to come over, you looked around. Here it didn’t smell like cinnamon, but the pine was present, along with the smell of alcohol and licorice.

There were several small dark wooden tables around the bar with chairs and even booths that decorated the walls. The floors matched the tables, and those matched the walls. This place looked like somewhere you’d find in the middle of nowhere. The window to the back of the establishment showed the dark woods with tall snow-covered trees and that howling snow tornado.

 When you turned back to the back, the huge elk head above the wall lined with alcohol bottles had you gasping.

 “Jeez,” you said as you snapped two of three pictures of the creepy looking thing.

 “That is Hogan’s prized possession.”

You looked beside you where the voice came from to see a very attractive man there. When you’d sat down, you didn’t notice anyone beside you, so to see his piercing blue eyes boring holes into you. Your eyes traveled lower to his awkwardly shaped nose. It looked like it had been broken once or twice and never quite went back to normal. You didn’t mind it, though. Who liked a perfect face, especially when looking at him, seemed like that was about the only thing that was not absolutely perfect. His jaw was carved to precision like he was specially crafted and not born. When your eyes fell to his lips, you purposely forced yourself to look away.

 “Is—is that right?”

 “Yes. I bet you cannot guess why,” the stranger said in a crisp European accent that was very close to British. You weren’t one hundred percent sure if it was or not, he just sounded proper as hell, and it was actually a bit of a turn on.

 You shrugged while looking at the bottles that lined the back of the bar. “Enlighten me.”

 Just then, a large man with blond hair in a man bun walked over. He had to have been over six feet tall, and if this were America, he’d definitely be a shopper at the store Big & Tall. The man looked to the one seated beside you, ready to speak but suddenly closed his mouth.

 “Hogan, Ms--,” the stranger began waiting for you to fill in your name.

 He thought he was so smooth; you thought as you smiled to yourself.

 “Xari.”

 His eyebrow shot up, and he smiled sweetly. “Wow, what a beautiful name.”

 You smiled, and as you felt it widening, you bit onto your bottom lip to stop it. “Thanks.”

 “Ms. Xari would like to know why Shandoe is your most prized possession.”

 “Shandoe?”

 Hogan looked behind him at the Elk’s head then smiled. “It’s been in my family for generations. It was the first thing my great-great-great-great-great grandfather ever killed for himself to feed his family. They ate everything but the head and decided to keep it as a reminder of where we came from.”

 You were expecting some weird manly story but what you got was a wholesome and heartwarming tale. You smiled, raised your camera, and snapped Hogan, and as he stared at the Elk’s head with such a loving look on his face that was such a contradiction for his large frame.

 “Are you a reporter?”

 “No, no. Not at all. I’m a travel influencer and blogger. I go around and soak up what the world has to offer while taking pictures and writing about it on my blog for others to read about.”

 The man beside you nodded, then raised his glass to his head.

 “What can I get you?”

 “Uh—what is he drinking?”

 “The Mistletoe Bomb.”

 You snorted, unable to contain yourself any longer. “What in the world is that?”

 “You laugh now, but it is a blend he makes special for me. It is not for the faint of heart,” the man beside you informed.

 “Oh no, well looks like I’ll be having one of those.”

 Hogan looked to him, then back to you. “It is all right, Hogan. Give the lady what she wants. I am assuming fell strength is also what you require?”

 “Yes, full strength. I want all the mistletoe and all the bomb.”

 Hogan went to work, making the drink while you continued looking around.

 “Em, I’m Henry.”

 You looked to him to find his hand outstretched to you, waiting for you to place yours in it. When you did, you repeated your name as you noted how soft his hands were. It felt like he’d never done a day’s work with them. Henry rose your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. It was one small action, but that action had butterflies flitting in your belly and your cheeks heating as if a heater was aimed directly at your face.

 “I am delighted to make your acquaintance,” Henry uttered while looking into your eyes.

 “Same,” you whispered.

 Henry released your hand and turned back to his drink at the same time Hogan placed a mug before you.

 “One Mistletoe Bomb for the lady.”

 You looked at the large mug then to Hogan, who waited expectantly. When your eyes drifted to Henry beside you, he too was watching and waiting. No matter how much you felt like this was a setup, you persisted, not wanting to back down. When you took your first full mouthful of the drink, your eyes immediately bugged. Your tongue was on fire in seconds, and it seemed the longer you held the liquid in your mouth, the worse the burn was. You gulped it down and instantly knew the mistake. Not only was your mouth on fire, but now your throat and chest as it burned a fiery path to your belly.

 “Holy fucking shit!”

 The two men boisterously laughed, the sounds booming off the wooden walls before filling the entire room. You looked around, noticing for the first time it was completely empty.

 “What the hell is that?”

 “Something that will put hair on your chest,” Hogan teased.

 “No, shit.”

 Henry seemed to like that response; he laughed again then finished his mug.

 “How can you drink this?”

 He shrugged, then turned his body to you. You gave him a well-paced once over, taking in his furry winter boots, dark pants, and dark sweater to match the pants. Underneath the sweater, though, you saw peeks of a crisp white shirt. He dressed like he had money, you thought.

 “I have done it for half my life. I do not even feel the burn anymore. Do you know why he calls it Mistletoe Bomb now?”

 You giggled and nodded, pushing the mug away. If you drank that, you’d need to be carried out of here. As Hogan appeared to take the mug away, Henry reached for it, insisting he’d finish it while Hogan placed a beer bottle in front of you.

 “Would you like a straw?”

 You looked at Hogan as if he were crazy. Who drank beer with a straw? You shook your head and raised the bottle to your lips to take a swig. This was more your speed, not pure petrol.

 “So you are new in town,” Henry began.”

 “Kind of. My plane had to detour because of the storm, so here I am in a place I’ve never heard of and cannot figure out why.”

 “Is it strange to never have heard of every place in the world?”

 You thought about it for a moment as you took another mouthful of beer then nodded.

 “Yes. I’m from America,” you began.

 “Ah, American. Let me guess. Everything has to be discovered, and if it is not, then either it doe not exist, or it is being hidden.”

 You snapped your mouth shut. He’d guessed American thinking in one try. “Well, that’s not fun,” you added. Henry laughed and took his mouthful of fire.

 “I am sorry. I know America well,” Henry informed.

 “Oh, so you’ve been?”

 “No. I do not need to. I have spent my entire life learning it.”

 You looked back at him, confused by what he meant.

 “Every country gives lessons on other countries of the word, especially powerhouse countries,” he explained.

 “Well, your studies have paid off.”

 “Do you really believe that everything has to be discovered?”

 “No. where is the fun in that? I believe that the world has to have some mystery.”

 “Then welcome to Brexendor,” Henry said with a smile.

 “Brexendor. What’s it’s deal?”

 You leaned closer, resting your elbow on the wood of the bar as you watched him.

 “Deal? I am afraid I do not understand.”

 “What I mean is, the people are nice. Everyone I have encountered, including at the airport, is nice. You know airport staff can be so mean, but not here. The people who own the Inn I am staying at are so sweet. Even strangers I bump into don’t;’ seem to mind. Not to mention, this place has the whole snow globe effect down. It’s incredible. What is the deal? Is the president some fantastic guy who pays everyone well and gives them ample vacation time for them to be so happy?”

 Henry smiled, dipped his head lower, then rubbed the back of his neck.

 “Would that be unusual?”

 “Yes. Compared to what America has going on—highly unusual.”

 “Well, the first thing to know about Brexendor is, a president does not run it,” Henry clarified.

 “Ah right, it is a monarchy. So does that mean there is a king, and queen, lords, dukes,” you began, then gasped, remembering more. “Princesses?”

 Henry smirked, gulped his drink, then nodded. “Yes.” He continued to take another swig from his mug.

 His words slowly resonated. “What!? You’re serious?”

 He nodded, then placed the glass onto the bar.

 “Wow. How interesting. So this King and Queen are they the good kind?”

 Henry’s smile turned somber before it disappeared altogether.

 “Did I say something wrong?”

 “No, no. Yes, the King and Queen are the best kind,” he filled in before he took the last mouthful of his drink. “They would like you.”

 You laughed loudly and shook your head. “Me? I doubt that. While all the mothers of my boyfriends have loved me, I don’t think the King and Queen would care for me.”

 “Boyfriend, so uh—you’re involved,” Henry said as he avoided your eyes.

 His words sounded like a statement rather than a question, so you remained quiet. After a few moments, he looked at you expectantly. You pinched your lips before you finished your beer.

 “Are you involved?”

 Henry took a deep breath looked forward to the bottles at the bar as a pained and confused expression washed over his features.

 “I’ll take that as a yes,” you replied.

 “I am not—involved,” he answered.

 “You said it like you weren’t sure.”

 “It is complicated.”

 “Well, I am a stranger in a bar—an empty bar. You’ll most likely never see me again, and I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

 Henry smiled then turned back to you, resting his elbow on the bar mimicking your stance.

 “You have not answered my inquiry.”

 “Inquiry?”

 Henry smiled again, then bit his bottom lip. That is where your eyes went to. He had nice lips, you thought.

 “On if you are involved,” he clarified.

 “I am not involved with anyone. If you ask my mother, she will tell you I’m an old maid with no prospects.”

 “I do not believe that. You are funny, intelligent, fun to be around, and quite beautiful. There is no way you have no admirers.”

 You smiled and began toying with your necklace.

 “I’m sure you say that to all the girls you meet in deserted bars during a snow storm.”

 He snorted, and you felt his breath across your cheek. It was then you realized how close the two of you were to each other.

 “To be honest, I have never found myself alone with a woman in a bar. You are my first.”

 You bit your bottom lip feeling more flirtatious than usual as you gazed into his hypnotizing eyes. He was gorgeous and becoming even more so with every passing minute. The two of you ordered more drinks, then drifted off to one of the booths on the wall that was more hidden and even more comfortable. You talked about nearly everything and nothing at the same time. He spoke a lot about philosophy and astronomy and the sciences that motivated a lot of the earlier theories. It was fascinating just listening to him speak. There was something about his mouth and the properness of the words he used. Never once did he use slang or even a contraction. You’d never met anyone who didn’t use contractions. The longer you sat there, the more you felt like never getting up.

 “There is something about you that is so comfortable and easy,” Henry began.

 “You too.”

 “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. I even want to.”

 You smiled, “You too.”

 Your eyes lingered, and you saw him sway forward, but then he stopped only to do it again and again. With your faces were centimeters from one another, it was then you noticed the slight speck of brown in his left eye. You felt Henry’s hand gently cup your cheek; then, his thumb slowly stroked your skin. The heat from his palm seared your cheek, and every stroke of his thumb send heat tendrils down your jaw to your lips, making them tingle and yearn for his.

 This had never happened to you in your entire life. You’d known this man a few hours and were ready to possibly bring him back to the Inn with you. Henry didn’t move. It was like he was giving you the last few centimeters to make a decision, but you didn’t make it. A phone went off, but you both ignored it until the sound went off. You raised your hand to rest on top of his. Once your skin touched his, Henry lightly sighed out. Before either of you could make another move, a phone rang again. This time Henry groaned before he looked away just as you did.

 You cleared your throat and slid from his body as he checked his phone.

 “I have to go,” he announced.

 Frozen, you sat there trying to understand if you’d read this entire thing wrong.

 “I am sorry, something—urgent has come up.”

 You snapped out of it, then nodded. “It’s fine. I should probably get back to the Inn anyway. They say a storm is brewing.”

 Both of you stood from the booth while straightening your clothes.

 “I really enjoyed tonight,” Henry added.

 You smiled and nodded. “Me too. It was—nice.”

 Your eyes lingered again, and your bodies drifted closer. It was you who looked away first and stepped back. You reached for your purse, but Henry stopped you.

 “It has been taken care of. Let us call it a tourist special, right Hogan.”

 “Right your--,” Hogan began before Henry looked at him, cutting him off.

 Henry ushered you to the coat rack on the wall by the door then helped you into your jacket.

 “Can I drive you back to the Inn?”

 “No, please. I am more than capable of getting back,” you assured.”

 “Are you sure?”

 You nodded then turned to walk out, but Henry pulled you to him. “I want to see you again.”

 “I don’t see how. I leave tomorrow as soon as the storm passes.”

 Henry looked to be thinking before he sighed. “I guess it was not meant to be,” you whispered, a tinge of sadness filling you as reality set in.

 “In another life,” Henry softly said.

 He came closer then placed a slow, chaste kiss on your cheek before he released you. The two of you stared at each other for a few moments, and in those moments, anything felt possible. When you faced that anything could have been possible but not for you, you sighed. A few seconds later, you turned and walked out of the bar.

Once outside, the rough wind caught you off guard. You took a few moments to bundle yourself, then continued walking back to the Inn. The swirling snow in the air made it a little challenging to see, but you tried the best you could. Several times, the wind picked up and shoved you where it wanted, forcing you to grab on to something to hold until it passed.

 Suddenly a big gust of wind blew you to the right and knocking you off your feet to roll for several feet. When the wind slowed, you rolled over onto your back to spit out the mouthful of snow that you’d managed to ingest. It took you several tries to stand, but when you did, you tried to see where you were and what direction you needed to walk in. That was when the wind picked up again, making you scream. When you turned, you saw two headlights coming right at you, then all you felt was pain before you were out cold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[sabraeal]

Climb to the Rooftops

[Read on AO3]

Written for @another-miracle; a birthday fic that is COMING OUT ON TIME would you look at that (though I am definitely doing some fancy footwork to make it work out in both time zones 😂 Yixin asked for the Post-Rescue Tanbarun Tree Scene for WFB, and then I said, I could give you that, but what if I told you about a secret scene instead...

And then Yixin told me to write whichever one was Obi POV

He knows her.

That’s what keeps running through his head’s hamster wheel as he clomps up the student center steps. He knows her; he’s always known her. If he reached out on that park bench, if he’d grabbed her with both hands and just said, don’t leave me--

He would have been laid flat on his ass, courtesy of that mean right hook her dad taught her before he bounced. And there’d be another demerit on his record to boot, one more instance of anti-social behavior to make him even more unadoptable than he already was. Doc was always destined to go to a loving home, complete with cozy hideaways and towers of books, with warm firesides and even warmer grandparents, and he...

Well, he wasn’t meant for anything like that, no matter who he clung to. Sometimes shit just happens, and no wishing on stars thirteen years gone can change that.

It’s good to see her though. He’d always wondered what happened to his muppet girl, whether she’d gone off and had her happy ending just like she said she would. And now he knows she did.

He glances down at the peanut butter canister in his hand. Well, at least for a little while. That’s the thing about happy endings; they don’t really stick.

Obi hesitates, one foot poised over a step up, his hand wrapped around a ruddy safety rail. “Um, Doc.”

It takes her three steps to bounce to a stop, just enough to let her look down instead of up or across. He’s got double vision for a moment: Doc in the here and now looking at him with so much hope and anxiety that he’s half-afraid she’ll shake apart like a Hot Wheel in a blender; superimposed over the little girl in his memory, round face beaming up at him and her worries far behind her.

She’s got more freckles now, though most of them are hidden beneath her coat, fading without the direct application of summer sun. More inches too, though not as many as he’d given her in his head; for once he’d given more benefit of the doubt than nature could provide. And her hair-- well, that’s the same. Red. Fluffy. Muppety, too, if it’s the morning.

“Obi?”

He should really be paying attention to this conversation he fucking started, instead of just staring at her like a creep. “I just wanted to check in.”

“Oh.” She goes rosy under the freckles he can see, shifting the urn from her hands to her elbow. “I’m-- I’m fine. I’m glad that we could find--” one arm juts out, trying to encompass both them and the containers-- “everyone.”

“Yeah, I got you, but I meant...” He angles a pointed look over her shoulder. “Why are we going up?”

Doc’s jaw drops, and he sees it, the way panic crests right behind her eyes.

“Not that I’m suggesting we don’t.” He takes the next step slow, just enough to put them on equal standing. Except it doesn’t, it puts him a little above her; the beginning of really looking down. His heart flutters in the exact way it shouldn’t when he’s carrying human remains. “I’m just saying, if we’re going to carry geriatrics up a few flights, the elevator’s better for their hips.”

He expects her to laugh at that one, or maybe even roll her eyes, but instead Doc breaks out into a full-body Chihuahua tremble.

“Obi.” Her eyes are so big in her face they might swallow him whole. “We can’t take the elevator.”

“We...can’t?”

Her head jerks in the scarcest side-to-side. With one long, steeling breath, she informs him, “We’re going to do something a little illegal.”

His brows raise. “Illegal?”

The urn bobbles treacherously as her hands fly up between them. “Only a little!”

“You cashed in your favor with me,” he repeats slowly, savoring the thrill that zips through him with every syllable. “To do something illegal.”

Doc deflates with all the gravitas of a popped kiddie pool. “I’m sorry, I should have asked if that would be okay. Especially with, um...”

She’s far too polite to say, your presumed preexisting criminal record, Doc just hasn’t realized it yet. Not when she doesn’t know for sure whether it does exist or not. It’d be easy to help her along, but it’s kinda satisfying to watch her flounder, fishing for the pieces of him she does know.

“If it’s a problem,” she says finally, lifting her eyes to his. “You don’t have to--”

“The only problem is how hot that is, Doc.” He wraps a hand around the rail beside her, leaning in close enough that her eyes nearly cross watching him. “Are you gonna get into your old field hockey kit and punch a girl up there too?”

She blinks, heels clunking into the concrete rise. “I don’t think it would fit. The skirt would be too short, at least.”

Are you sure, he wants to say, stretching every last inch over her, but instead he rumbles, “Honey, you’re saying all the right things to me--”

“Hey.” A finger presses into his nose, hauling his words up short like a pileup. “No call list.”

“Ahh.” Her mouth twitches as he pulls back, rubbing at his nose. “Haah. You know I hate that.”

“Then stick to the list,” she informs him pleasantly. “Besides, are you really trying to flirt with a girl in front of her grandpa?”

“Well.” He holds up the tin, giving it an experimental shake. “You think they’d mind?”

There’s a quality to the silence in the stairwell that clues him in to the fact that he’s cocked up real good this time. First with the tomb joke, now asking if grandma might be watching from beyond the grave, objecting to his game. At least he knows he never had a chance; otherwise he’d have to go take his hopes out behind the woodshed--

“No,” she hums, confident. “They’d like you.”

It’s a good thing she doesn’t get it in her head to try the nose trick again; it’d push him right over. He can survive a lot, but four flights is pushing it. “Doc,” he huffs, scratching the bristle at the back of his head, “I don’t think--”

“Well...” She’s thoughtful when she puts her back to him, bouncing up the next couple of stairs. “Opa would. Oma would think you needed to be fattened up.”

He laughs, but even to his own ears it sounds busted up, wings broken. “Sounds like my kind of lady.”

“Ugh,” Doc sighs from one landing up. “She’d love that you said that.”

“That just makes her even more--”

“Don’t.”

RESTRICTED ACCESS, the doors says, bright red letters fading against the plastic sign. ALARM WILL SOUND.

Doc’s been bullish these last few flights, pushing a pace that makes him want to remind her he’s a hitter, not a runner, but now--

Now she shuffles on the stairs, daunted. “Do you think it will really...?”

Obi thinks this might be a private university, funded by mommy and daddy’s pockets to keep their babies safe, but alarms go off all the time. Unless this building has a rent-a-cop watching daytime TV down in the atrium right now, it could take hours for someone to answer the call, especially mid-afternoon on a Saturday.

“Who knows.” He’s not sure what she’s got up her sleeve that involves two dead people and a rooftop-- especially when even Doc is quick to admit it’s got at least a toe on the wrong side of legal-- but it probably won’t look good if they’re interrupted, even by the Diet Coke of the law enforcement vending machine. “Maybe you should plan to keep the fancy speeches to a minimum.”

“Eulogies.” Her thin fingers flex over ceramic, white where they press in. “You mean a eulogy.”

“Gesundheit.”

Doc turns her head, real slow, letting him soak in every drop of her disapproval. Well, that’s one pigtail successfully pulled.

With a breath so deep it makes her pea coat really earn the name, Doc nods. “Right. Okay. I think...”

Obi expects some dithering, some real soul-searching doubts being dragged out for airing right here in the stairwell. Doc likes that sort of thing, taking everything out of her head so she can fold it all up real nice again, but instead--

Instead she barrels across the landing, plowing right through the metal door, a whole stretch of gray winter sky stretching out before her. There’s one blink, two, and then-- well, the sign wasn’t kidding. The alarm does, in fact, sound.

He catches the door with a hand; it’s weighted, ready to swing right back into place and-- if he knows his doors-- lock right behind her. Not that it’d be a problem if he meant to stand around on the stairwell and act as look out; a role he’d be happy to play if that’s how Doc wanted this whole show to run. But right now she’s slumped at the ledge, every last ounce of her usual moxie wrung out.

Maybe she might tell him to stand back, that this is something she’s got to take on alone, but Obi knows every aching line of that pose by heart. A car can keep going for fifty miles once it hits empty, but that just means you’ll never know when the tank runs dry. That’s where she is right now, stalling out at her limit.

And that’s what he’s here for, to push her that last inch over the finish line. Besides, he can’t just stand back, not when he’s grandpa’s ride.

“So.” There’s a shim in a corner-- a naughty thing to have around an emergency door like this, but Obi’s not about to tattle. He’s perfectly happy to wedge someone else’s problem right where the paint’s flaked off the door. “What’s the problem?”

Doc blinks, one hand trembling on grandma’s lid. “W-what?”

He settles grandpa on the ledge, arms folded around him, taking in the sprawl of buildings below. Clarines isn’t as big as one of those state universities, but it makes Tanbarun look like a college playset instead of a campus. Both of them have those stuffy brick and marble buildings they like up here, the kind that say academic and too good for you loud and clear, but whereas Obi’s walked across Clarines for thirty minutes and still never hit the edge, it looks like he could lap this place in twenty. No wonder Doc was miserable here; the real mystery is how she managed an entire year in this fancy rat cage.

“There’s got to be one.” He knows better than to look at her; if he’s going to make her talking about feelings, the least he can do is give her the privacy to have them. “You were all gung-ho a minute ago, ready to do your thing even if you had to punch out a cop to do it--”

“--I didn’t say that,” she murmurs--

“--but now you’re just standing here.” He shrugs, chancing a glance from the corner of his eyes. “Looking lost.”

“I just...” She shifts, head twisting toward him, he doesn’t need to meet her gaze to know it’s wild, desperate. “It doesn’t feel right that they don’t go together.”

It’s his turn to stare now, lost. “O...kay.”

“What if...” Her teeth fold over her lip, worrying at places already worn. “What if I left them go, and they don’t find each other?”

“Ah...?” It seems like a bit of an oversight now, not asking what the plan is, but he ventures, “You mean...the ashes?”

Her mouth twists up, annoyance in every wrinkle. “It sounds weird when you say it like that.”

“No, no, I’m just...” He glances down at the tin between his arms. “I’m just putting things together. There’s nothing wrong about how you feel, Doc. Not like anyone’s really written a book about how this works.”

She looks up at him, so guileless. “Of course they have, Obi. There’s a whole section in the bookstore for it. It’s just that they’re all written by charlatans and quacks.”

Whatever the conversational version of whiplash is, Obi’s experiencing it now. For a minute all he can do is stare, taking in the abject disapproval rumpling her face, and then he-- he--

He laughs. Because this is what he’s into. The sort of person who pumps the breaks and spins the conversation 360 without even a courtesy ‘buckle up.’

“Listen, I’ve been thinking...” He taps the top of the tin, the metallic ting drowned out by the blare of the siren. “What if we just...mixed them? Then when you release them--”

“--They’re already together.” Doc blinks up at him, eye shining like he’s her savior, the center of her world, the answer to her cosmic question--

The way she really shouldn’t, when she already belongs to someone a hundred times better than he’ll ever be. Not when she’d never mean to get his hopes up.

“Thank you, Obi,” she breathes, a smile dawning on her lips. “That’s exactly what we need to do.”

Like all his good ideas, it’s easier said than done. On the ground, it’d been breezy, the sort of gentle push he’d come to expect from New England right before it got its first good snow, but up here--

“Here, take this.” Obi shrugs off his jacket, hurriedly pushing it into Doc’s boneless hands, but it’s too late-- they’ve already lost a bit of grandma. “Hold it up.”

She stares down at it, thumbs rubbing over the leather in a way that makes his shoulders itch. “Hold...?”

He swings out one arm-- the one not holding a geriatric-- yanking it wide. “Like a wind screen. I don’t want to lose Oma’s pinky toe or something.”

Doc blinks, stretching the coat between her hands. “Pinky toe?”

“Wouldn’t that make you cranky in the afterlife?” he asks, shaking more of Oma loose in a lull. “Losing a toe? Or a finger. Like just the last knuckle. A bit of your nose.”

The leather starts to ripple as the wind spins back up, and Doc stomps a foot down on the end of it to keep it from smacking up into his face. He appreciates the effort; it’s hard enough trying to pour from a large container to a small one without his zipper clocking him over the eyebrow. “Would that really matter?”

He shrugs. “To some people, probably. I got plenty of nose to spare.”

Doc mouth curves shyly, hunching down to hide behind his coat. “I think it’s fine just as it is.”

“Haah.” It’d be nice if she could give him a heads up when she plans to make his heart pound like that. “Think you might be the first to think that.”

“I don’t know,” she hums, eyes electric with some mischievous spark in their depths. “Maybe I’m the first to say so, but you certainly weren’t getting any complaints a few nights ago--”

He huffs. “Drunk college girls aren’t exactly arbiters of taste, Doc.”

She fixes him with that steady stare of hers, the one that’s so earnest it makes his heart make a bid for freedom through his throat. “I think,” she says, each word weighed before she lets it free, just like a good scientist, “that they did just fine.”

He smothers a whimper into a sigh. “Maybe your grandparents don’t mind me flirting,” he mutters, hunched over that stupid peanut butter tin, “but I’m sure they wouldn’t like you returning the favor.”

She blinks, head cocked. “Did you say something Obi?”

“No,” he says, just a little louder. “Just talking to myself.”

“You know--” he sets down the urn, wiping the sweat off his forehead-- “this would have been a lot easier going the other way.”

“We can’t.” Doc’s mouth twists up into that troublesome knot. “Opa always said he never wanted to be in one of those big fancy vases. And even if he would never know, I...”

Obi sighs, hanging his head. “Yeah, I know, I get it, just...complaining to complain. You know how it is.”

She stares down at him like he’s a fish on a dock telling her about the dangers of air. He shakes his head, stifling a laugh. Of course Doc wouldn’t get it; she could lose a limb and she’d still be thankful for the other three. Probably point out how much better things were now that she didn’t need to keep track of all of them. He might complain like it was as easy as breathing, but Doc-- Doc would take every last uncharitable thought to the grave.

Haah, give her some time. A few more months around him, and she’d discover some things to complain about. People always did.

“So,” he says, picking grandma back up. “Why here?”

Doc blinks. “Huh?”

“You know, on top of the roof of the campus center at one of the prestigious universities on the East Coast?” He raises a brow. “I know you used to go here, but most people just settle for leaving dog shit on the stoop when they want to send a ‘fuck you,’ you know.”

Doc unleashes a sound that can only be termed a squawk. “What? What do you mean most people--?” She shakes her head. “No, I don’t-- I mean, it’s not supposed to be a, um...”

“Fuck you?”

“Ah...yes. That.” She grimaces. “They met here. And when I tried to think of places they might want to be...”

Her words drift to a stop, but it’s gentle. They don’t abandon her, leaving her high and dry, but she just...stops saying them, letting the wind carry them away.

“I couldn’t think of any place else,” she admits, fingers tightening in the leather. “They always talked about Tanbarun so fondly, and I...I always thought it sounded like paradise.”

“But the roof?” Obi asks, incredulous. “Is it just easier to scatter the ashes, or...?”

“It’s where they met,” she repeats, like that makes any sense at all. “They used to have movie nights up here, played on one of those reel projectors,”

Her gaze swings out over the concrete like she could see it; all the hippy bean bags piled up, big screen pulled down and movie hardly able to be heard over the wind. Not a bad picture, he’ll admit. Wholesome, just like he’d expect out of the people who raised this Precious Moments doll of a person. Doesn’t really explain Mukaze, but well, shit happens. Half the people who raised him don’t deserve the person he’s become either. “Nice story.”

She’s hardly here with him, eyes hazy and distant, stuck in a past only she can see. “That’s what I always thought. I always wanted...” Her voice trails off again, but this time her smile falters, topping like china from a wobbling shelf. “I always wanted to have a story like that too. But it, um, didn’t really work out that way.”

He shouldn’t say anything. He’s not some neutral party, here to give her that impartial, unbiased pick-me-up she wants to hear, like telling her won’t rips a strip right off his back, so-- he should keep his big mouth shut.

But he’s never been good at any of that being smart shit. “It’s not like you didn’t have your own meet cute, it just wasn’t here. It was, er...”

Huh, now would you look at that. He’s never actually asked.

“At a record store,” she supplies slowly, like she has to think on it too. “Between the aisles after I missed my bus. No--” she laughs, more bitter than he’s ever heard her-- “after I chose to miss it.”

“See?” he hums, vibrating the knife deeper. “That’s already a good start.”

Her lips press thin. “I suppose...”

“No supposing about it.” He taps grandpa so the ashes sit flat before he starts another pour. “If I know anything about your Oma and your Opa-- and I don’t know nothing besides what you told me--” and what he saw a decade ago, sitting on that park bench-- “I don’t think they care whether you met your person at a rooftop movie or in a Walmart--”

“Record store.”

“They have CDs too,” he informs her, just as prim as Doc gets with him when she indulged the one pedantic bone in her body. “But the point is, they wouldn’t care where it happened, they just wanted you to find what they had.”

“I...” She deflates, the leather bowing over her legs. “I know. I think they used to worry that I wouldn’t, especially since I wasn’t really, ah...”

“Looking for it?” he offers.

She nods, relieved. “Yes, that. After my parents, I think they expected a much more, um, active interest in...anything. And I wasn’t.”

He doesn’t need to hear her say it to know that there’s more to it than that, that what she means to say is, and I don’t think they understood.

“Well, nothing for them to worry about anymore, is there?” She blinks up at him, alarmed, and he adds, “You and chief are kind of a done deal right?”

“Ah!” It’s hard to tell with the wind slapping both their cheeks red, but he could swear Doc’s blushing. “I don’t-- it’s not-- we haven’t really talked about--” she heaves a heavy, resigned sigh-- “I mean, I...I guess?”

“As done as it can be without getting PR involved.” He gives her the sort of eyebrow Kiki might. “I’m sure that if they’re out there floating on clouds or whatever, or, i don’t know, free energy in the universe, molecules just bumping around...they’re happy for you.”

“Right.” Her reply’s so faint he nearly misses it, but the wind that snatches it away carries it right by his ear. “Yeah.”

“All right, I think I’ve done as much as I can do.” Obi levers himself to his feet, brushing off his lap before handing her the tin. “You ready for this?”

Doc stares down at the canister, jaw set, the same way he’s sure it looked right before she threw herself out a window. Certainly looks the same way it did when she tried to bean Itoya with her purse.

“Yeah,” she breathes, fingers tightening around the metal. “I think I am.”

The wall’s not tall, but neither is Doc; she has to go up on tip-toe to throw an arm over it, the wind already pulling at the ashes laying loose at the top. Her brow furrows, mouth working for a good minute before she manages, “It’s time to say goodbye, I think.”

Obi stares. Sure, he’d said to keep it short and sweet, but if it’s taken this long for the rent-a-cop to hustle up, maybe she can spare the people who raised her more than--

“Thank you.” He’d thought it might be hard to hear her over both the alarm and the wind, but somehow all her words fly true, brightening the air. “For...everything. I don’t really know how you...”

Her breath catches, but her eyes are clear, no tears streaking down her face. “But that doesn’t matter, does it? You did everything and more. But I think...” She sniffs, taking a moment. “I think I can take it from here. I’ll miss you, Oma. And Opa...”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I forgive you. For whatever still needs forgiving. Rest well.”

Her hand tips, just the barest degree, and the ashes scatter, wind whipping them past, twisting high over the quad.

“Hey.” Obi steps up beside her, shrugging his coat on over his shoulders. If it’s a little gritty-- well, good thing Doc thing thinks Oma would like him so much, because part of her might linger until the next wash. “I’m pretty sure it’s super illegal to scatter human remains like this.”

“Oh,” Doc hums, shoulder bushing his arm. “It absolutely is without a permit. I was not joking about the slightly illegal thing.”

Obi grins. “Well good thing that no one ever came to check on the--”

As if summoned by the mere mention of potentially having something approaching good luck, the door bar rattles, accompanied by some creative cursing.

“Who the fuck is leaving this open?” A gruff yet feminine voice demands, as if she might be able to shake down the universe and pick up the answers from what fell out of its pockets if she just rattled it hard enough. “Bill, is it you? God, what did I say about using the roof for your smoke breaks--?”

The door swings all the way open, and there she is, a security guard with shoulders that could have dropped straight from the Lowen family tree. Obi would take a picture if he wasn’t sure that would get him thrown in the campus drunk tank.

She takes one glance at them, then another angrier one. “Who the fuck are you?” 

“UM,” Doc shrills informatively.

“No, wait.” One broad hand waves in front of her. “I don’t care. What are you doing up here?”

Doc flounders in the face of authoritarian disappointment-- which is fine by Obi. This is his wheelhouse, after all. It’s nothing to reach out, cinching Doc’s waist against him, grin wide. “Sex, obviously.”

If it were possible for a body to choose the time and place of its expiration from this earthly dairy aisle, Doc’s mortified stare suggests she might curdle on the spot. “Obi.”

The guard’s glare is a study in skepticism, taking in the both of them, and then the concrete wasteland around them. “Here? With your clothes on?”

“It’s our kink.”

“Please,” Doc mutters against his shirt. “Don’t talk.”

The guard spares them one last weary look and sighs. “You know what? I don’t care. Just get out.”

Doc certainly doesn’t need to be told twice. Obi’s got his mouth open, what can’t you let us finish first about to spill right out, but her small hand clamps around his, and she drags him right off the roof.

“SORRY,” she yelps as they pass. “WON’T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN.”

“Yeah,” Obi agrees with a grin. “Next time we’ll fuck on some other roo--”

Doc pauses for one moment, just long enough to raise a finger and inform him “DON’T.”

This time he lets her drag him off, grinning.

They’re halfway down the stairs when Doc finally slows, her cheeks reaching a shade of red that looks more lipstick than lobster dinner. Her hand wraps tight around the rail, and it’s not until he saunters down the last couple steps to stand beside her that he realizes-- her eyes are screw tight, breath coming in ragged bursts.

“Hey,” he murmurs, trying to ignore the spark of alarm zipping under his skin. “Did you just realize we could have used the elevator?”

Her fingers, already wrapped tight around his palm, squeeze. “Obi...”

The muscles in his arm lock, the way he’s sure lizard tails do, right before they drop them off and run. “Doc?”

Her head turns toward him, and when her eyes flutter open, they’re bright, clear. “Thanks. For being there.”

“No. No, no,” he murmurs, his fingers spasming against hers. “You’ve got it all wrong. I should be the one thank you for letting me. No one...”

No one has ever asked me to be there, he doesn’t say. No one but you.

It’s too much when she’s looking at him like this, like he’s not just a stand-in but her first choice. Like there’s more to how he feels than some one-sided over-investment. It brings him so close to feeling like someone, like the kind of guy who might be her person--

And maybe he could have been, if he hadn’t let some asshole rip her right out her arms in the middle of the night. If he had a record of being something other than a professional disappointment.

The grin doesn’t sit right on his face when he says, “No one’s ever asked me to get rid of a dead body before.”

Doc blinks, then rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she sighs, tugging his hand. “Let’s go.”

“Back to the hotel?”

“Well,” she wheedles. “That. And I dropped the tin when the guard surprised us...”

“Ah I see.” He slips his hand from hers, grin finally sitting the way it should. “So we’re adding evidence removal and obstruction of justice to our list of crimes.”

She tips a dubious look back at him. “Are you complaining?”

“Doc,” he breathes, pressing a hand to his chest. “I would never. I’m touched that you would even think that I could--”

“Come on, Obi,” she laughs, hopping down the steps in front of him. “I’d like to do this sometime today.”

His mouth curls as he watches her back. “Your wish is my command.”

[pretchatta]

tripping the light fantastic

The brief was simple: infiltrate an Imperial gala and steal a datachip from one of the guests. Hera's contact had procured them false identities as wealthy socialites as well as providing a description of the target, so all they had to do was show up. Kanan didn't see how this operation could go wrong.

Of course, that was before he knew what Hera was wearing.

Things became a whole lot more complicated after that.

that evening wear series i started in june? i finished it!

rating: teen; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 7.5k words

---

“Hera, the hovertaxi’s here!”

Kanan tried not to sound too impatient as he called to her from the cargo hold of the Ghost, but he was cold.

The thin, silken material of his shirt was cool against his skin, and his formal jacket was doing nothing to insulate him against the recycled air of the ship. Hera had told him he’d be fine once they reached their destination, but they would never get there if she didn’t hurry up.

“I’m coming!” came her muffled shout from somewhere above him.

He heard the clatter of heels against the deck and decided to believe her this time, so he walked back down the extended boarding ramp. The spaceport outside was no warmer, but it was a step closer to the extravagant Imperial gala they would be attending tonight. The impractical outfit had been provided by the same contact who had procured their invitations – or, rather, invitations for the two wealthy socialites they would be posing as.

Kanan waved at the taxi driver to indicate they wouldn’t be much longer and got a flat stare from the rhodian in response. He resisted the urge to rub at his eyes; Hera’s contact had insisted that they’d stand out if they didn’t follow fashion trends, and apparently the big one at the moment was glitter eyeshadow. It made his eyebrows itch.

He heard the sounds of someone coming down the ladder behind him and turned back to face the cargo bay.

“I’m sorry,“ Hera was saying, her voice clearer now she was closer. "The straps on these shoes are so fiddly, I don’t understand how anyone could have the patience to wear them every day.”

"You should have said something,” Kanan called back with a grin. Sometimes she really made this too easy. “I’m sure I could’ve helped, I’m great with my fing-”

He was cut off by the sight of Hera appearing at the top of the boarding ramp, the comment dying on his lips. Silhouetted by the light coming from inside the Ghost, one very accurate way to describe her appearance was stunning.

She was wearing a long, sleeveless dress made of the same silken material as Kanan’s shirt, and in the same deep burgundy colour. The V-shaped neckline plunged almost to her waist amidst the elegantly draped material, which clung to her hips and cascaded down her legs. The hem fluttered around her calves, revealing the impossibly high stiletto heels that were the reason for her lateness. They matched the colour of her dress, which contrasted beautifully against her skin.

Kanan gaped at her as all other thoughts fled from his head. He rarely saw Hera without her gloves, let alone the rest of her baggy flight suit; the combination of the dress and so much bare skin was almost too much for his brain to process.

She began to descend the ramp, hips and lekku swaying, apparently unaware of the effect she was having on him. As she drew near he could see she had applied a small amount of makeup – not much, but just enough to enhance her features, plus her own smear of glitter eyeshadow.

She came to a halt in front of him. “So, how do I look?”

He struggled to find an adequate response to her question.

“Words fail me.”

“That bad, huh?“ She gave him a knowing smile, then gestured behind him. "We should get going before our driver gets bored of waiting.”

The thud-hiss of the ramp closing jolted him back to himself. They were leaving Chopper in charge of the ship while they were gone, something that Hera seemed far more comfortable with than he was.

“Right, yeah, let’s go,” he said, shaking his head a little to clear it. He fell in step beside her as they walked over to where the taxi waited.

As Kanan opened the door for her, his hand automatically went to the small of her back to help her in. He aborted the motion with only inches to spare; her dress was completely backless. He jerked his arm back, feeling self-conscious about touching her bare skin, and managed to turn the movement into offering her his arm instead.

Hera took it with a smile as she climbed into the hovertaxi. Kanan followed, careful to sit so that there was still space between them, feeling suddenly warm despite his earlier discomfort. It was dawning on him that the evening ahead might be very difficult – and not just because of their mission.

Their false identities had them attending the gala husband and wife, and he was glad they didn’t need to start pretending until they got to the venue. He knew he hadn’t been subtle in his attraction towards her these past few months, but there was a line between casual flirting and going too far that he had been careful not to cross. Sometimes he thought he saw flickers of what could be reciprocation from her, but she had never given him any indication that she welcomed or returned his feelings and he did his best to respect that.

He had a horrible feeling that he would be getting awfully close to that line tonight.

When they pulled up to the venue, Kanan played the part of a dutiful husband, climbing out first and holding the door for Hera. She gave him a grateful smile as she took his proffered arm and let him help her out; now that the initial shock of her appearance had worn off, he could see that she was struggling without her usual flight suit and boots.

Their destination was a large private home worthy of the title ‘mansion’. It was made all the more impressive by the way it was uplit in the early evening twilight. Though it was in the middle of a bustling city, a narrow border of immaculately trimmed hedges surrounded the house, separating it from the buildings around it. A short flight of steps led up to the open front doors, warm light spilling out in welcome.

“Ready to put on a show?” Hera murmured from beside him.

Their brief was simple: infiltrate the gala and steal a datachip from one of the guests. Imperial suppliers often liked to finalise business deals at events such as these, and tonight ownership of a large consignment of weapons would be changing hands. Hera and Kanan were to locate the seller and swap the chip containing the manifests and shipping details of the sale with a fake, and then transmit the information to Hera’s contact. The shipment would be hijacked and stolen before the Imperials realised anything was wrong. It put fuel and supplies in the Ghost and took firepower away from the Empire, which made it Hera’s favourite kind of operation.

Unfortunately the guest in question was half the reason for the not-inconsiderable security force that was also in attendance tonight. Their disguises would get them in, but it would take a lot of skill and probably a fair amount of luck to grab the chip and then get out. The longer they could go without raising suspicion, the better.

Kanan turned to look down at her, his expression serious. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Her only response was to adjust her hold on his arm, linking them together more securely. He was happy with this; it struck the perfect balance of apparent intimacy, yet she could easily withdraw if she felt uncomfortable. He led her up the steps and to the doors.

The entrance hall beyond might have been described as small and modest by some. Those were the people this event was no doubt for – by Kanan’s standards, it was opulent.

Smooth blue stone lined the walls and contrasted against the golden tones of the floor. The gentle burbling of running water came from a small fountain in the center and echoed off the high, arched ceiling. Ornamental plants in intricately decorated pots lined the edges of the room, many with colourful flowers in bloom, their perfume hanging in the air. A heavy curtain in a rich, deep gold colour hung at the far end, and the faint sound of music could be heard from beyond.

“May I see your invitations?”

A sharply-dressed man in all black had been waiting just inside the door. Pale, slight and human, he couldn’t be a better example of an Imperial if he tried. That image was only reinforced by his companion; standing just behind him was a stormtrooper, silent and imposing.

Kanan affected a look of polite surprise. He had assumed they would give their cover names, maybe present their falsified chain codes. He flicked a glance at Hera, who was looking expectantly at him.

“Invitations?” he stalled, hoping desperately that her skintight dress might yet contain hidden pockets.

“I need to confirm that you are allowed in,” the doorman explained patiently. “You did bring your invitations with you, as requested?”

“Of course we did!” Hera assured him with a smile. “My husband wouldn’t have forgotten something as important as our invitations. They’re in your pocket, aren’t they, dear?”

Kanan tried to remain calm as he widened his eyes significantly at her. He hadn’t put anything in his pockets before they left, and he was pretty sure there wasn’t any chip or card in there already.

“Are they?” he asked.

Hera’s smile became fixed, and he got the distinct impression she was resisting rolling her eyes at him. She stepped forwards, right up to him, and then one of her hands brushed against his hip. Heat flashed through his core in response to her touch. Her hand continued downwards, slipping into his pocket, as her face moved closer to his. It took all of his concentration to hold still.

“Must we play this game at every event, love?” she murmured. There was a low, sensual quality to her already wonderful voice that only stoked the simmering heat in his gut. Before he could think of a way to respond, she leaned in further and her lips brushed the corner of his mouth. It was only the lightest of touches, but his skin still tingled even after she pulled away.

She waved the two slips of flimsi that had just been in his pocket at him, giving him a pointed look.

“Here they are,” Hera said airily to the sentry, passing him the flimsi. “You’ll have to excuse my husband – I married him for his looks, not his brains. But can you blame me?”

The man gave a forced chuckle and looked distinctly uncomfortable as he gave their invitations a cursory glance. Then he gave them a nod and waved them towards the curtained archway.

Kanan let Hera lead him across the atrium. He shook his head slightly; right now, he needed to focus. They had a job to complete, after all.

“I always knew you hired me for my handsome face,” he joked, quiet enough that the doorman wouldn’t hear.

He expected her to laugh it off as she usually did at his attempts at flirting, to gently remind him of the line that existed between them. Yet again, Hera threw him off balance.

She shot him a small smile as she took his arm. “Well, it wasn’t for your ability to check your pockets.”

He was unable to come up with a response as she led him beyond the curtain.

The gala was in full swing on the other side. A huge ballroom stretched before them, towering columns of more pale blue stone holding up the arched ceiling over a curved white dancefloor. The music came from a live band at the far end, and guests in gowns of all colours swayed and twirled over the dancefloor in time with the beat. Precious gemstones glittered under the soft lights, along with shimmering makeup and body paint akin to the eyeshadow Hera and Kanan wore.

Those who weren’t dancing were talking and mingling around the edges of the room. Small droids wove between them, carrying trays of drinks and canapés. Hera snagged them each a drink from a passing droid and they began to slowly make their way through the crowd.

Kanan caught snatches of conversation as they passed, mostly inane chatter with the occasional obsequious flattery or plain flaunting of wealth. He knew without a doubt that every single person present cared only about themselves; the whole event was a sickening display of the extreme inequality that was not just present but practically encouraged by the Empire. He almost felt disappointed that this was a stealth mission and not an opportunity to cause chaos.

They completed their circuit having managed to make only minimal interactions with other guests, and found a space to stand in. The part of the crowd nearest the entryway moved too much to allow them to survey the whole room effectively, so they ended up next to one of the columns about halfway around the dancefloor. It made watching the entrance difficult, but they had a decent view of the rest of the ballroom.

So far, none of the guests present were the person they were here for. Kanan didn’t have a description of their target but Hera had told him they would have a golden sunburst emblem displayed prominently on their outfit. The riot of colour made spotting something that would normally be so distinctive difficult, but they had both been looking and were yet to see the sunburst.

The curtain moved and Kanan craned his neck to see who the newest arrival to the party was, but the ladies’ matching black dresses held no additional colours.

“Let’s dance,” Hera said suddenly from beside him.

Kanan turned to stare at her. “What?”

She was scanning the rest of the room anxiously. “Everyone else seems to be having at least one, and I don’t want to stand out. Plus, we’ll have a better view of the entryway from the dancefloor.” She dumped her empty glass onto a passing droid-table and grabbed his hand. “Come on!”

Kanan barely had a moment to put down his own half-finished drink before she was dragging him towards the dancefloor.

“But I don’t know how to dance!” he protested after her.

It earned him a sceptical look over her shoulder. “How can you not know how to dance? It’s easy, just follow my lead.”

She found them a space amongst the twirling couples and turned to him, still holding his hand in one of her own. He briefly noted that they did in fact have a great view of the entrance from here, and then she stepped in close and his attention narrowed to only her.

The heels brought Hera’s face high enough to be very close to his; her breath ghosted over his cheek. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, and through the thin material of his shirt he could feel her fingers were still cool from where they’d been holding her drink. He didn’t know what to do with his other hand, and in his indecision it hovered awkwardly.

She rolled her eyes at him.

“Here,” she told him, releasing his shoulder just long enough to place his hand on her waist. His fingers brushed the soft, bare skin of her back and he had to resist the urge to touch more. His whole body felt suddenly very hot.

“Now try to follow my feet with yours,” she murmured.

It took Kanan a few moments to register her words. He could feel the heat of her body radiating through the thin silks of their clothes, and the sweet smell of her perfume filled his nose. He wanted to either push her away or pull her closer; it was agony having her so close, and yet not close enough.

Hera started to move, leading the steps of their dance, and Kanan’s brain struggled to keep up.

“Kanan,” Hera hissed as he stumbled, almost standing on her foot.

This wasn’t working. He needed to focus, or they’d start drawing attention to themselves.

Kanan took a deep breath and cast his mind back to a place he’d sworn he’d never return to. He wasn’t touching the Force, not quite, but it still felt wrong to call on the old meditation techniques. He felt the wash of calm sweep through him as he emptied his mind and regulated his breathing. The Force hummed in response, so close and so ready for him to take it, use it, draw strength from it. But he held himself back from going that far. All he needed was to ground himself.

Emotion, yet peace.

How ironic that, after years of denying his past, it was the Jedi code that he most needed now.

Kanan ignored the irony of his predicament as he followed the movement of Hera’s feet carefully, trying to stay in time with them without getting underneath the sharp heels. Fortunately the steps were simple, and it wasn’t long before they settled into a rhythm.

He managed to keep it together as they slowly traversed the dancefloor. Between focusing on his breathing and on Hera’s steps, he had no awareness of anything else; the contact could have been dancing right next to them and he wouldn’t have noticed. But their cover remained intact, and Hera had eyes sharp enough for both of them.

Once Hera saw that he was keeping up with her, she experimented with something different. She released his shoulder and spun away, still holding his hand. Her dress flared out around her calves as she moved, revealing more of her smooth, slender legs. Her eyes sparkled with the joy of the dance. Kanan’s heart skipped a beat; she was breathtakingly beautiful.

She twirled back into his arms and he took another deep, grounding breath. He wasn’t sure if it was weaker from the dancing or if he was just getting used to it, but her perfume wasn’t as overwhelming now. This whole semi-meditation thing was getting easier, too; maybe he should try it more often.

“I still can’t see the target,” Hera murmured in his ear, and his concentration broke. That low, lovely voice would always be his undoing.

Fortunately, his feet seemed to have memorised the steps and didn’t need his brain to continue moving.

“Maybe they’re not coming,” he replied lightly, trying hard to keep his voice steady.

“No, this contact has never been wrong before. They’ll be here.” She sounded confident in her assertion, and Kanan really wasn’t in a position to argue.

“Though, if they take much longer,” she continued, “we should check out the buffet table.”

He felt an amused grin spread over his face. “You’re hungry?”

“Starving. I meant to grab a ration bar before we left, but getting ready took longer than I expected.”

Something about her admission made affection swell in his chest.

“I think this dance is almost over,” he said, hearing the song start to wind down and trying to hide his relief. “If you want to keep watch I can go find you some food.”

If she was lucky they might have Gruuvan Shaal kebabs, or even some meiloorun. His mind had already drifted to thoughts of what Hera might like to eat as he started to take a step back, but then her grip on him tightened.

“No – wait – I think that’s them!”

Hera’s arms were suddenly steel, holding him in place as she craned her head over his shoulder. Kanan felt frozen in place.

“Where?” He tried to turn to see for himself.

“Don’t look, just keep dancing,” she hissed. “I’ll try to move us closer.”

The band started up the next song, a slower one with a different beat. Hera let go of his hand to place both of hers on his shoulders. Somehow, she was now even closer than before.

“Put your hands on my back,” she murmured, her lips barely an inch from his ear. “Keep following my steps.”

He did as he was told, his short-circuiting brain incapable of anything else, both hands splayed against her bare skin. It was warm under his palms but he resisted the urge to stroke his fingers along her spine. She had moved closer to him so that her chin rested on his shoulder and her chest pressed against his. The silk did nothing to hide the curves of her body; combined with the touch of her bare skin, it would be easy to imagine there were no clothes between them at all.

Don’t think about that, he told himself sternly. He wondered if Hera could tell he was feeling a lot warmer than usual. He tried meditation again, hoping it would cool the flush in his cheeks, but it was harder than before.

Hera led him in the new dance, slightly easier than the previous one. It was slower and had fewer steps, so it wasn’t long before Kanan could let his feet continue for him. There were more distractions with this one, however; as well as Hera being much closer, every now and then the tips of her lekku would brush the backs of his hands. Whenever that happened it was like the light touch was igniting sparks over his skin. The meditation didn’t seem to be as effective now; he worried that at any moment his hands would start trembling.

“I’ve got eyes on her,” Hera whispered. Kanan felt her breath over his earlobe.

“Her?”

“Mikkian, middle-aged, blue skin. She’s got the golden sunburst on her shoulder; she’s definitely our target.”

He felt Hera slightly change the angle of their movement, guiding them across the dancefloor. The steps lengthened and Kanan needed to focus harder to follow them. If anything, the distraction helped.

The band began the final cadence of the song, and Kanan found himself desperately hoping that Hera would let them stop dancing. Maybe even step outside for a minute. Fresh air would be good.

“She’s going somewhere – this is our chance!”

A moment later Hera had slipped out of his arms and was moving away. It took his mind a few moments to catch up, but by then she’d taken his hand again and was leading him off the dancefloor.

With Hera gone, clarity returned to his mind in an instant. They were on the job now: hunting an Imperial for tactical data.

This, he could do.

They were on the other side of the dancefloor to where they’d started, and slightly closer to the curtained entryway. Kanan caught sight of the mikkian woman walking around the edge of the room, staying close to the wall. The sunburst was an oversized brooch on one of her shoulders, contrasting elegantly with the deep purple of her velvoid dress. She reached another curtain and, after a quick glance over her shoulder, she slipped through and disappeared on the other side. Kanan caught a flash of an ornate archway like the one they had entered through and guessed it led to the rest of the mansion.

Hera was still leading him after her, weaving around a table that was in their way. Something caught his eye and he reached out a hand to snag it as they passed, slipping it into his pocket. They reached the curtain that clearly marked the area beyond as off-limits to gala guests and Hera paused, turning to meet Kanan’s eyes. He nodded to indicate he was ready, and she wordlessly pushed it aside so they could follow the mikkian through.

Beyond was a grand-looking hallway. A lush strip of carpet ran down the center and ornately framed paintings hung along the walls. Kanan caught a flash of blue head-tendrils disappearing around the next corner, but Hera was already in pursuit. He wasn’t sure what Hera’s plan was when they reached her; pretend to recognise her and pick her pocket? Knock her out and rob her, hoping no-one would find her before they could get out? Whatever it was, he was ready to follow his captain’s lead.

Something caught his eye, and Kanan nudged Hera. She glanced up at the hidden security cam he indicated and tapped her temple, then winked. It took Kanan a moment to understand, but when he did he nodded with the dawning realisation. There were some types of glitter that scattered light in such a way that it scrambled any sensors trying to detect it; their eyeshadow was not just a fashion statement, but a way to conceal their faces on any security recordings.

Rounding the corner, they found the hallway split as a staircase led up to the next storey of the house. Hera silently pointed to a recent scuff in the thick pile of the carpet on the lowest step. Between the soft surface and the still-audible music from the ballroom their target had the advantage of stealth on them, but there were other ways to track her.

They ascended the stairs in a crouch, but needn’t have bothered. As they reached the hallway at the top they saw a door just finish closing. As quietly as they could, they crept to the door, past more doors, curtains and paintings. Hera was reaching for the handle when Kanan felt rather than heard a presence at the foot of the stairs.

He stiffened.

“Someone’s coming,” he whispered to her.

She quickly glanced around. “In here!”

She grabbed his hand and dragged him behind a heavy, floor-length curtain opposite the door the mikkian had gone through.

It turned out to be covering a small alcove housing some kind of ancient relic displayed on a stone plinth. Hera shoved him into the back of the alcove, wedging herself between him and the plinth and twitching the curtain closed again behind them. It was thick enough to let in no light, so they were cast into darkness.

When Hera didn’t move back, Kanan realised just how little space there was around the relic and its stand. It felt like every inch of Hera’s body was pressed against his, warm and soft and utterly maddening. It didn’t help that, in the dark, all of his senses seemed heightened to compensate for the lack of sight. His mouth felt suddenly dry.

He heard the muffled sound of several sets of heavy footsteps on the carpet, and then the soft swish of the door opening and closing. The sweet scent of Hera’s perfume was in his nose again, though this time there was something else underlying it, something familiar that made him think of home. That was strange; he didn’t have a home. Not beyond the Ghost, if that even counted. Muffled voices brought him back to the present situation, a man’s and a woman’s coming from the room behind the door and another one, nearer but tinny, as though it came through a comm.

“This must be the hand-off,” Hera breathed against his ear, and Kanan had to work to stop his knees from giving out. “Sounds like a guard outside the door.”

“What’s the plan?” he managed.

There was a brief pause as she thought. “On my mark, we stun the guard and then two in the room. I’ll grab the data, you keep watch, and then we get out of here.”

“Got it.” He gave a small nod, forgetting that she couldn’t see it. “Wait – we don’t have blasters.”

“I do.”

She shifted against him and then something warm and soft that felt suspiciously like skin brushed against his hand. He snatched it away like it had been burned

“What are you doing?” he hissed.

“Getting my blaster,” she replied in a calm whisper. “The only way I could conceal one in this dress was with a thigh holster.”

Oh. Okay. Just her leg. That was all it was, just her bare thigh pressing against his hip from where she’d hitched the dress up. Which he’d just touched. His heart was in his throat.

“On three,” Hera whispered, shifting again as she resumed standing on two feet.

“One.”

Kanan felt the hard edge of her blaster against his shoulder as she brought it up to a ready position.

“Two.”

He reached out a hand, ready to pull the curtain back.

“Three.”

Kanan whipped the curtain aside and they burst out of the alcove. Hera squeezed two shots off at the single stormtrooper standing guard, and Kanan was at the door before they finished hitting the floor. It swung open, and Kanan dived into the room beyond.

He caught a brief glimpse of a pair of startled faces and made a split-second decision to go for the man. He was tall, human, and dressed in the crisp, dark uniform of an Imperial naval officer. A swift blow to the head sent him reeling as Hera shot a stun blast at the mikkian. Before the man could recover, Kanan had stepped to the side so Hera could take him down too. It was all over in seconds, the only sounds having come from Hera’s compact little blaster.

He turned to congratulate her, but Hera was already on her knees beside the mikkian patting her down for the datachip. Kanan strode to the door instead, hauling the unconscious trooper inside before stretching out his senses for signs of anyone else approaching.

A prickle at the back of his neck told him that was sooner than he’d have liked.

“Hera, we’re about to have company,” he warned her.

“Hang on – wait, I think it might be inside–”

His ears caught the soft thumps of heavy boots coming up the stairs.

“Hera!”

“Got it!”

There was a click sound and he glanced back to see the mikkian’s sunburst brooch open in Hera’s hand, revealing a hidden chamber with a small datachip inside. Unfortunately, his next look to the hallway outside showed him a pair of stormtroopers cresting the stairs.

“Hey, you!” one shouted.

Kanan cursed as they started to raise their weapons. He ducked back into the room as a pair of plasma bolts hit the doorframe.

“Time to go!” Hera was already on her feet behind him, and he let her push him aside as she stepped up to the doorway with her blaster ready. She darted out just as the bootsteps reached the door; two shots later and both troopers were on the floor, unconscious.

Kanan grabbed her hand. "They'll have called for help; run!"

He half-dragged her in the opposite direction, continuing down the hallway and away from the scene they had created.

“There goes our stealth,” Hera panted from beside him.

They rounded a corner and found the hallway continued ahead, though there were also stairs leading upwards to one side. Kanan shook his head and led Hera so that they stayed on the same level; they wanted to be going down, not up.

“If we can get back to the main party, we can lose ourselves in the crowd,” he said to her, a plan for their escape already forming in his mind.

No doubt it would not be long before someone discovered the five unconscious bodies they had left behind, but they wouldn��t have a description of who to look for. As long as they weren’t caught anywhere they shouldn’t be there would be no reason for anyone to assume they were anything other than genuine guests.

“Good idea, but first we need to get there,” Hera pointed out somewhat breathlessly.

There was another corner up ahead, and if Kanan’s sense of direction was leading him true they should be on the other side of the ballroom now. If the mansion was somewhat symmetrical, then just here –

“There you go,” he panted as they turned the corner. "Our way back."

At the other end of the hall was a staircase just like the one they’d come up. They raced forwards.

Kanan only got a flicker of warning, but it was enough. He skidded to a halt and flung out an arm to stop Hera just as the tinny sound of a communicator reached them from the stairs.

“–assaulted guests and took out three troopers. Do not let them escape. Repeat, all squads to the Clovis wing, at least one attacker–”

The now-familiar sound of boots on carpet was coming up the stairs.

Hera tried the handle of the nearest door, but it didn’t budge.

"It's locked!" Hera hissed.

Kanan looked for an alcove like the one they had hidden behind before. There was a matching one here but it held no ornament, only an empty plinth, and so there was no curtain to conceal them. There was no way they’d be able to run back around the corner before they were spotted, and standing here, out of bounds and out of breath, looked far too suspicious for them to be simply wayward guests. After all, what else would they have been doing?

The white tops of a pair of stormtrooper helmets came into view on the staircase.

Kanan had an idea.

“You can forgive me for this later,” he whispered, pushing Hera by the shoulders into the alcove. He desperately hoped she would; it was a terrible idea, but it might just work.

This space was no larger than the one on the other side of the house. His chest pressed against hers as he yanked the tie out of his hair. His other hand still held her blaster which he offered back to her. She took it automatically despite the confusion in her eyes, but he didn’t release it, instead guiding her to hide it under his jacket as he raked his free hand through his now-loose hair.

The stormtroopers had reached the top of the stairs; they’d be spotted any second now. Time to sell it.

A brush of his fingers tilted her chin up towards his face.

“What–”

Her words were cut off as he bent his neck and kissed her.

Time seemed to stop the moment their lips met. The world fell silent, the only sound his heart pounding in his ears, straining after their sprint through the mansion. His awareness shrank to Hera and only Hera. She had frozen against him, though only a moment ago he’d felt her breathing just as heavily as he was. Not that he was breathing any more; time had stopped.

It was a simple kiss, a press of his lips against hers. It was nothing. It was everything. It was Hera.

And then she kissed him back.

He knew it was just the surprise wearing off as her brain caught up to what they were doing. He knew she was just maintaining the cover he’d hastily created for them. But that didn’t stop how right it felt.

The hand still on her wrist gently stroked its way up her arm to her shoulder, while his fingers under her chin caressed the soft skin of her neck, down, until they brushed along her collarbone. Her breath hitched in her throat and her lips parted ever so slightly–

“Hey!”

Time snapped back to full speed as they broke apart. The stormtroopers had reached them and one was pointing a blaster at Kanan’s chest. Well, it would be more accurate to say both of them, as there wasn’t much space in it.

Kanan was breathing again, even more heavily than before, and he knew exactly how he looked with his tousled hair and the startled, almost guilty expression on his face. What he'd intended as a charade had become all too real as his mind was still reeling from the kiss.

“Oh, uh, sorry–” the trooper faltered and pointed the weapon down. “This area’s off-limits to guests.”

Kanan simply stared at him blankly. Of course it’s off-limits, that’s why we’re here.

“There’s been a security breach,” the trooper tried again, “you need to go back to the main ballroom, sir. Ma'am.” He nodded at Hera while managing to not look directly at her; Kanan got the impression that if his helmet had been off, they would have seen his face steadily turning red.

“A security breach?” Hera repeated in a breathy, Ryl-accented voice. Smart; the confident woman she’d been at the door had helped them to get in, but now they needed to be unassuming and easily dismissable.

Kanan sighed. “Just as I was starting to enjoy this event,” he muttered, loud enough for the trooper to hear.

“We need to secure the area. Please move along.” The trooper gestured towards the stairs, but he was already moving to walk past them and his companion was a few more steps ahead.

Kanan stepped out of the alcove but kept one arm around Hera’s shoulders, keeping her close and allowing the hand that held her blaster to remain concealed under his jacket.

“I hope nothing has been stolen,” Hera said worriedly, still with the accent, as they began descending the staircase. “Our host was telling me earlier, he has quite the collection of old Clone Wars relics here. Very valuable to thieves.”

“Probably what the breach is,” Kanan said confidently. “I’m sure they’ll catch the thief.”

They reached the foot of the stairs and he glanced back over his shoulder; the troopers were out of sight. They’d done it. Around the next corner the archway that led back to the ballroom became visible, the music growing louder with every step. Hera made no move to withdraw her arm and stow her blaster.

“That was a nice bit of quick thinking,” she said, back to her normal voice though she kept it carefully neutral.

Kanan couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. “I’m sorry there wasn’t more time to warn you. Or, y’know. Ask.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She stopped to let him pull the curtain aside, the noise of the music and the guests reaching full volume and washing over them as they re-entered the party. “It worked, and now we’re back to being just two more guests.”

“We’re not out yet,” he reminded her. “C’mon, our best shot is probably right out the front door.”

They weaved through the crowd, Kanan still with an arm around Hera’s shoulder as they made their way slowly back across the ballroom. It almost felt strange that the party had changed so little in their absence, but they couldn’t have been gone longer than half an hour. The band were still playing, the dancefloor was still in full motion, and people still clustered around the edges engaged in conversations.

They reached the curtained archway to the atrium feeling much like they had during that first circuit of the room when they’d arrived. No-one gave them a second glance, too engrossed in their own affairs to spare a thought for two people they didn’t recognise. In a place like this, that meant you were unimportant, which suited Kanan and Hera just fine.

A few scattered guests were lingering around the pool as they ducked around the curtain into the atrium. One of two wafted folding fans at themselves, trying to cool off after dancing. Kanan and Hera were completely ignored as they walked past. The open doors loomed ever closer, along with the freedom that lay beyond.

They were just passing the doorman when his stormtrooper bouncer spoke.

“They’ve accessed the surveillance footage from the halls – the intruders are disguised as guests," he said, his voice tinny through the helmet's comm. "One human and a tail-head. No-one can leave until they’ve been found.”

“Uh oh,” Kanan said softly. The exit was mere steps away.

“Hey, you!” the doorman called over to them. “Stop there!”

Kanan swore.

“Run!” Hera shouted.

They took off as one, tearing down the steps to the street beyond. Blaster bolts hit the hedges as they reached the end of the path and rounded the gateposts, breaking into a sprint. Or, at least, Kanan did; Hera cried out from behind him. He skidded to a halt

“These kriffing heels – I’ve twisted my ankle!” She was still trying to hobble forwards, though at nowhere near the pace she could normally manage.

Behind her, stormtroopers were starting to pour out of the mansion.

“Okay, new plan!”

There was no time for anything clever. Before Hera could protest, he scooped her into his arms and started running again.

To her credit, Hera adapted to her new situation immediately. She still held her blaster in one hand, and as he carried her away she took aim over his shoulder. She wouldn’t be able to hit anything with any accuracy like this, but he knew exactly what she was doing; her shots sent the stormtroopers scattering for cover, allowing him to increase their lead on them.

He darted into an alley. Adrenaline was allowing him to run with Hera in his arms, but it would only last so long before his muscles would register their strain. Now, with no-one watching, was the perfect time to execute part two of this improvised escape.

The Force had been waiting all evening, hovering just next to his awareness, and now he finally drew on it. Kanan leapt, higher than he would have even unladen. He landed on the flat, permacrete roof, and with the Force flowing through his body he was running again.

With no more targets to shoot, Hera's arms encircled his neck, holding on for dear life. Kanan raced over the rooftops, leaping from one to the next over the oblivious pedestrians on the streets below. He’d already oriented himself and was heading to the spaceport. One of the perks of travelling like this was that he could do so in a perfectly straight line. Even if the Imperials tried to shut down the port they’d have to take the long way around to get there.

The scream of a twin-ion engine gave him warning, and he dropped back down to another abandoned alley a few streets over from the spaceport’s entrance. The TIE swooped overhead, searchlights coming on as it entered the zone the Imperials calculated they would still be inside of. Kanan smirked triumphantly.

“Well, that’s one way to save on the taxi fare,” Hera said as he set her carefully back on her feet. He didn’t quite let go of her, aware that she was putting most of her weight on only one leg.

He huffed out a laugh between panting breaths. “Don’t start counting on rides for supply runs.”

She grinned at him. “Of course not, you have a terrible luggage allowance.” She elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

He pretended to look affronted. “Well, if you want your spacious cargo hold back I suggest we get moving.”

Her eyes lingered on his face a few seconds longer, her smile softening with a fondness that echoed in his chest. Then her expression turned serious as she looked towards her injured ankle and took a tentative step onto it. She let out a hiss of pain, but managed to limp to the other side of the alley.

“It’s not too bad,” she said, seeming to find it easier on the way back. Then she started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Kanan asked, confused.

“The whole op was actually not too bad.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Seriously?”

“Sure, we were seen, but they didn’t get our faces," – she gestured to her eyeshadow – "neither of us got shot, and we got what we came for. By our standards this was almost a perfect run.”

He joined in the laughter. She had a point; for them, it was pretty good.

“It’s just a shame we weren’t able to get any of that food,” she added wistfully.

Kanan felt a flash of guilt, even though it wasn't his fault. He'd said he would bring her something to eat, but then they'd been distracted by the appearance of their target. He remembered their pursuit of the mikkian, how Hera had immediately been focused on their mission as she'd led him off the dancefloor.

“Actually…”

Kanan reached into his pocket for the item he’d swiped earlier that evening. They'd passed right by the buffet tables on the way to the curtained archway and until that moment he'd forgotten he had in fact kept his word to Hera.

He presented the meiloorun to her with a proud smile.

She gaped at him for a moment, staring between his face and the fruit in his hand. Then, her surprise softened to something he couldn’t quite read. It wasn't just gratitude; there was a warmth to it, an aching fondness in her eyes. She took a step forward, grabbed him by the lapel–

And kissed him.

For a second he was frozen with shock, one hand holding the meiloorun and the other hanging by his side. Then his mind caught up with what was happening, his arms slid around Hera, and he kissed her back.

It was the same as their kiss earlier, and yet it was also different. It was still Hera, her presence filling every one of his senses, but this time there was nothing held back. Her mouth parted easily against his, her tongue gently tracing his lower lip. His free hand caressed the bare skin of her back, his fingers softly stroking up her spine. She shivered against him.

When she pulled back an inch to breathe, he felt like he was floating.

“Definitely a perfect run,” she corrected herself in a whisper.

He gazed into her shining eyes with awe. It’s always perfect with you, he wanted to say. You’re amazing, you look beautiful tonight, I would do anything for you.

Instead, he kissed her again. Her lips were soft and eager against his.

She already knew.

[ladyeliot]

Our little paradise

Request: Anonymous. Hello! I was wondering if you could write something about Cevans having a panic attack or just feeling sad and the reader comforting him and then him thanking the reader and falling more in love. 🥺. That’d be so sweet. Because we know he cries a lot and doesn’t hide his emotions.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, End of holidays.

Word count: 905

A/N: This is a little bit short. I’m sorry for taking so long to respond to requests / Sorry for my spelling and grammatical mistakes, English is not my native language, I am learning.

Suffice it to say that there was no other way of dealing with the facts. It had been the most insanely wonderful two weeks you had spent together. The island of Ko Phi Phi Lee had captivated you, its beaches of crystal clear water, its culture and above all its tranquillity, had made you feel as if it really was a paradise, and if it wasn’t, it was very close to being one. The limestone cliffs, which rise to over a hundred metres above sea level, and its Maya bay, were your favourite tourist destinations to spend hours walking around watching the sunset.

There were no worries, no stress, no negative aspects, everything was peace, happiness and love between the two. It was a time to rediscover yourselves, to know more deeply the person you had by your side. There was nothing and no one to stop you from being who you are, so you let yourselves go by forgetting the past and focusing on the present, on the moment you were living.

But the search for tranquillity also left time to enjoy the many activities that this paradise provides. You visited most of the islands in the Phi Phi archipelago and were dazzled by Monkey Beach, a word inhabited by hundreds of monkeys where you snorkelled, realizing that neither of you were experts in the field. However, that fact did not stop you from enjoying the aquatic life of the islands and visiting the coral reefs. At night the island changed, although you took advantage of the nightlife of the island to pick up your small bungalow, it was interesting to attend the fireshows that were offered in different parts of the island.

In short, you had created your own little universe, but like every beginning there was an end. It was the last sunset on the island, the next morning a flight would take you to Los Angeles, making a stopover in Australia. Inside you could assume that they had been the fourteen most romantic days of your whole life. This was how a halo of melancholy covered you as you watched the sunset from the Mayan bay.

You were sitting on the sand in Chris’ arms, who was depositing small kisses on your bare left shoulder. You felt the roughness of his beard against the softness of your skin and that, together with the delicate coastal winds, gave you sweet pleasure. You closed your eyes so that you could expand your senses and gently leaned against Chris’ chest, who changed the destiny of his kisses to your head.

“What if we forget everything and everyone and stay here and live forever?” you asked, concluding with a sigh.

In response Chris took your hand and kissed your fingers delicately.

“We could buy a small cabin and come here to enjoy these sunsets,” you added. “We’d bring Dodger, I’m sure he’d find that a good idea too.”

Chris didn’t answer again, he just kissed your hair and let out a little sigh against him. Curiosity invaded you and with subtlety, without letting go of his embrace, you turned your face to look at your partner. Chris’ cheeks were red, partly because of the time you had spent in the sunshine those days, but partly because he was emotional. When it dawned on you, you turned your whole body around and knelt down in front of him holding his face in your hands.

“Hey… what’s going on?” you asked delicately looking into his blue eyes.

Embarrassed, he smiled at you and looked away. 

“Is it because if we stay here you couldn’t have your favourite pizza?” you said jokingly, trying to find his look. “Don’t worry, I’d take care of that, I’d have a plane loaded with pizzas from Leone’s.”

Chris exhibited a small laugh as he looked into your eyes again, circling your waist with his hands and causing a closeness between the two. You discovered that he too felt that melancholy inside, it had been a very special journey and in a few hours the dream would be over. 

“You know that even if we return you won’t get rid of me easily,” you arched an eyebrow. 

“And I thought I was rid of that red nose,” Chris brought his nose up against yours, causing you to complain about the sting of the shock because you hadn’t put on enough sunscreen.

“Hey, don’t mess with my nose,” you put a little kiss on his nose. “You’re going to have to put up with it for a long time.”

Chris filled his lungs with air and released it as a sigh, resting his forehead on your chest. You took the opportunity to caress his naked back and kiss his head, you could be in that position all your life.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” you whispered. “And these days have been perfect with you in this paradise. Well, the truth is that even if we had gone to the worst place in the world, it would have been perfect if you were there.

You felt Chris smiling at your chest, and then approaching your neck and kissing him, making you close your eyes and enjoy the moment. Your words were sincere, anywhere he was would be perfect, and he believed them with respect to you too.

Tag list: @imerdwarf @mycosmicparadise @lavendertales​

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