#the leaves are changing and the air smells pretty and there’s pumpkin everything

[wastedonthesebutterflies]

I give existence a 3/10 rating rn

[wakandas-vibranium]

Double ‘Taine || Part One

Pairing: Fontaine x Black Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, use of the n word, aave use etc.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: This is going to be a fun lil series! Not sure how many chapters just yet, but I hope y’all enjoy the story. Please comment, like, and reblog! :)

It was a gorgeous Memphis night. The weather was perfect and your life was going pretty well. You didn't have too many complaints. The aroma of apples and pumpkin always wafted through the air of your apartment around this time of year. Mrs. Towner, who lives two units down the hall from you, was always the culprit. Her grandson lived with her and loved baked goods and Halloween. You couldn't blame him; Halloween was one of your favorite holidays too, and it was only four weeks away. It was simply something about the smell of pumpkin and the crunch of fallen leaves under your boots that made your heart warm and made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

You were currently in your luxury apartment, venturing back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, setting the table for four. While you were busy setting up the apartment for your guests, your boyfriend, Fontaine, was out picking up dinner. You usually cooked, but Slick suggested earlier this week that he was craving Indian food, and you hadn't had it in a long time, so you ordered it and sent Fontaine to pick it up from the best spot downtown. Thursdays turned into dinner dates with Yo-Yo and Slick Charles. 

You met Yo-Yo about four years ago. She strutted straight into your law firm, carrying the brightest smile and one of the sharpest minds you'd ever seen. You two hit it off right away. You supported her with everything she needed, and she is now a paralegal with your firm.

About six months in, she finally introduced you to her eccentric boyfriend, Slick Charles, who never failed to make you bust out laughing, and her other roommate, Fontaine, who you instantly took a fancy to. Your firm had become quite busy, and Yo-Yo stressed to you that Fontaine was going through a difficult time, so it took another half a year before the two of you started dating. Now you were in the best relationship you'd ever been in, and you couldn't be happier. 

Sure, Fontaine kept a lot of things bottled up, and it was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about them, but you wouldn't trade him for anything. You loved that man. 

Actually, you had the impression that all three of them were hiding some information from you. You didn't know much about their past because they didn't tell you much. They told you that they had moved to Memphis from the Glen and that they had no plans of returning home. That was pretty much it. 

You had an inkling there was a lot more to the story, but you never pushed that button.  If they wanted you to know, you would know. 

As soon as you had the apartment set up to your liking, you poured yourself a glass of Stella Rosa's Moscato D’Asti and relaxed on the couch, waiting for your beloved to return. 

The door knob was twisted twice before there was a heavy knock on the door. You hurriedly downed the rest of your wine and dashed over to the entrance, figuring Fontaine could use help opening the door since he had the food in his hands. 

“Hey baby,” you greeted as you opened the door and saw that he didn’t have the food, but instead two large bags and a backpack. “Did you forget your keys?”

He didn't answer you; instead, he gave you a pointed look and strolled into the apartment. You scratched your forehead because you didn't know what the fuck was going on. You could've sworn he left 20 minutes ago with different clothes on….and why didn't he have the food?

He lingered in the living room, glancing around the apartment as if it were his first time seeing it. You shut the door and took timid steps toward him. Your eyes widened as you tried, but failed, not to gawk at him. When did he have time to change? 

After what appeared to be him assessing the room, his gaze finally settled on you, and he looked you up and down.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

You scoffed as you threw up your hands,“You were supposed to go get the food…”

“…Oh…” he said, tone revealing that he didn’t give a single fuck about dinner. 

“Yeah, oh,” you rolled your eyes at him and he just shrugged his shoulders at you.

What the fuck was his problem?

He stood there with his back against the wall. In a defensive position. As if he knew shit was about to hit the fan. Bags still in his hands, and an orange backpack still on his back.

“Fontaine, is everything alright?” you asked, taking a cautious step towards him. 

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

He gave you another pointed look and you raised your hands. 

“It’s just…you’re acting weird and you look pissed the fuck off right now, babe. Please tell me what’s going on?”

He uncrossed his arms and started to speak, but the jingle of keys and the opening of the front door stopped you both in your tracks.

In walked Fontaine with dinner in his hands.

WHAT IN THE ENTIRE FUCK?

Fontaine took one look at the both of you before slamming the door shut and fixing you with a chilling look.

“Baby, back away from him.”

“Man, I ain’t gon’ hurt her.” Fontaine number two huffed, rolling his eyes at Fontaine number one. 

You took a cautious step back anyway. The tone of your boyfriend’s voice was more than enough to have you on edge.

Your boyfriend placed the food on the dining room table and shoved you behind him as he faced the other Fontaine.

Or at least that’s who he looked like…

Who was this guy? And why did he look just like your man? You thought you were seeing double. 

The apartment was deafeningly silent. Those two didn't utter a single word as they sized each other up.

Those two may have been comfortable standing there in silence, but you weren't. You wanted to know just what in the fuck was going on.

“Umm,” you blurted, breaking the silence, “I thought you said your brother was dead? And that he was younger than you?” 

You thought that maybe the other man was his twin or something. Obviously they had to be related. 

“He is,” your boyfriend replied, taking his eyes off of the other man for a brief moment to glance back at you. 

“Then who the fuck is this?” you pressed, gesturing wildly at the Fontaine lookalike. 

“Nobody.”

“Nigga, I’m you,” Fontaine number two said. 

“I ain’t tryna hear that.”

“Well, you gon’ hear it tonight, nigga.”

They went back and forth with each other, bickering for what felt like an eternity until you couldn't take it anymore.

“Fontaine!” 

They both turned to look at you.

“Somebody better open they fuckin’ mouth right now and start explainin’ before I start swingin!!” you threatened. 

While your boyfriend heaved a sigh of aggravation, the Fontaine lookalike smirked at you with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Where that nigga Slick at?” The lookalike asked, ignoring you. 

“You came all the way to Memphis for Slick?” Fontaine questioned, tone heavy with irritation. 

“That nigga knocked me out and duck taped me to a fuckin’ chair!”

What the fuck? Why would Slick do something like that? 

“Yeah, for a reason.”

And your boyfriend knew about this shit all along? What else was he keeping from you? 

“I got somethin’ for his ass!”

“Wait a minute—why would Slick tape you to a chair?” you asked the lookalike, taking a step closer to him. 

“Ask yo boyfriend,” he quipped. 

“I will, but first tell me who you are,” you demanded, staring him right in his face. His hair, his deep brown eyes, the golds in his mouth was all too familiar. This man was the spitting image of your boyfriend.  

But how? 

“I’m Fontaine,” he finally said, looking you in the eyes, silently daring you to disagree with him.

“That’s impossible,” you chuckled nervously as you backed away from him because clearly he was out of his mind, “There can’t be two Fontaines.” 

“Baby,” your boyfriend sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, “He’s tellin’ the truth.” 

“We’re both clones,” the lookalike admitted. 

Your boyfriend's shoulders stiffened so much that you worried they'd become stuck.

You were about to accuse them both of fucking with you, but the pained look on their faces was enough to convince you that they were being serious.

You plopped down on the couch, head in your hands, trying to make sense of what was being said, but your chest felt tight and you couldn't quite catch your breath.

So…clones were real. 

Your boyfriend was a clone and your boyfriend also had a clone. 

So there were two Fontaines. 

Were there more than two Fontaines?

Who did this to them?

With each passing second, a new question flooded your thoughts.

What happened to the original Fontaine?

Who else was the government cloning?

What other states and cities were they operating from?

Was Fontaine safe?

Were you safe?

Shit really hit the fan once Yo-Yo and Slick arrived. 

You had to confiscate Fontaine number two's gun after he pulled it out on Slick twice. Then you had to hold him back because he charged the retired pimp with such ferocity. Your boyfriend definitely had his temperamental ways, but this Fontaine was a bit more volatile.

Thankfully, Yo-Yo was there because Fontaine number one and Slick Charles were useless. They didn’t even try to help diffuse the situation. 

After a half-hour of squabbling, everyone calmed down and sat down to eat dinner.

“So, y’all niggas couldn’t have included me on the plan?” Fontaine number two asked the others at the table. 

You sat between both Fontaines, gulping your wine as you willed yourself not to freak out anymore than necessary. Yo-Yo and Slick Charles sat across from you.

“Hell no! We ain’t have time to break it down for your hotheaded ass,” Slick Charles said. 

Fontaine number two shot Slick Charles with such a hard glare that you worried you'd have to hold him back again.

“Uh, I’mma just eat my samosa before Fontaine number two beats my mothafuckin’ ass,” Slick Charles grumbled before shoving his mouth with more food.

You nodded, “I think that’s a good idea, Slick.” 

“How’d you find us anyway?” Yo-Yo asked.

“Biddy.”

“Biddy?!” The three of them murmured. 

You couldn’t do anything but eat your food and drink your wine as you watched the four of them converse. You felt like a stranger in your own fucking home.

“I gave that pink bitch a hundred bucks and she told me y’all moved to Memphis.” 

You didn’t even bother to ask who Biddy was because you knew you wouldn’t get a straight answer. The rest of the evening went pretty much like that. As the four of them caught up, you tried to make sense of the information at your disposal. You eventually tuned them out because you were becoming irritated.

After a while, Fontaine number two asked where the bathroom was, and you got up to show him the way.

Surprisingly, he thanked you before closing the bathroom door, and you retreated to the kitchen, searching for more wine. You needed more booze to deal with this fucked-up situation, and unfortunately, the wine you already had just wasn't cutting it. You scoured the refrigerator and cabinets but came up empty. 

With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the kitchen island and went over the events of the last hour or so. You still found it difficult to comprehend the gobsmacking fact that the love of your life was a clone.

It all made sense now why your boyfriend was so guarded. Look at all the shit he’s been through. Still, you couldn't help but feel a heavy pang of hurt because the three of them kept this from you. They were the closest people to you. You've grown to love them so much, and they couldn't even bring you into the loop.

You strolled back into the dining room and observed the three of them crowded together, talking in hushed voices.

Slick Charles spotted you approaching and motioned for the other two to stop chatting.

“And just what are y’all over there whisperin’ about?” you asked, raising a curious eyebrow. 

“Nothing.”

“Nothing important, baby.” 

“Just discussin’ the weather.” 

The three of them lied through their teeth and went back to eating as if they just weren't having a private conversation. It took all your might not to lash out at them in frustration. At the very least, Yo-Yo looked guilty. You knew she wanted to tell you more, but her loyalty to Fontaine surpassed her loyalty to you.

“Right,” you scoffed at them as you grabbed your purse off the counter. “I’ll be back.” 

“Where you goin’, Y/N?” your boyfriend asked as he stood up. 

“To the liquor store,” you said through gritted teeth. 

“Mind if I slide with you?” Fontaine number two asked as he ambled down the hallway. 

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Nah,” Fontaine number one shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Well, I’m goin’ anyway, nigga.” Fontaine number two retorted as he stood next to you. 

You shot your partner a sidelong glance before turning around and heading outside. Fontaine number two was right behind you.

“Y/N,” Slick Charles called after you. “Bring me back some vodka and orange juice please!” 

Fontaine number two slammed the door shut before you had a chance to respond, and you fought back a chuckle. That dude was obsessed with orange juice.

Together with your boyfriend's carbon copy, you made your way silently to the parking garage.

“Oh shit,” he exclaimed as he watched you open the car door to your silver Genesis. “You drive a G90?!”

“Yes,” you chuckled as he gawked at your car, his brown eyes briefly flashing with childlike admiration. Just like your Fontaine when he first saw it. The man truly did love his cars. It only made sense that his doppelgänger would too. 

“This is a nice ass ride,” he complimented, caressing the car door with his fingers as he walked around the vehicle. 

“You wanna drive?”

“You for real?”

“Yeah, the other you drives it all the time.” 

You tossed him the keys before walking over to the passenger side and hopping in. 

He excitedly clambered into the car, gently closing the door, before cranking up and taking the opportunity to look around.

After marveling at and feeling the smooth cream interior for several seconds, his gaze ultimately settled on you.

You paid close attention to his features. He may have been a clone, but now that you were actually looking at him, you could tell he wasn't your boyfriend.

Your Fontaine always looked at you as if he knew you inside and out, which he did, but this Fontaine solely looked at you as if he wanted to have a chance to get to know you that well. Everything else about the two was remarkably identical. This was a peculiar yet intriguing situation.

You were going to ask him what he was staring at when he blurted, “Y’all fucked in here yet?” 

“Fontaine!” you gasped, whacking his arm in admonishment. 

You couldn't believe he would ask you something like that, but then again, your Fontaine wasn't one to shy away from asking questions. No matter how invasive they were.

“What? I know me, aight? Ain’t no way in hell I’d pass up fuckin’ my fine ass girlfriend in this sweet ass car.” 

The compliment was not lost on you, but you chose not to react to it.

You remained silent, blinking at him in disbelief, until he raised his eyebrows impatiently, still waiting for you to answer.

“Yes, nigga,” you muttered, “we’ve fucked in here before.” 

“How many times?”

“Why do you care?”

He said nothing, just stared at you with an amused expression.

“Four times, damn! Can we go now?”

For a split second, his eyes darkened with a burning desire. He didn't say anything, but it was clear he wanted to be the one to partake in a fifth time.

Under his piercing gaze, you squirmed in your seat. You knew that was a thought you wouldn’t be able to come back from, so you cleared your throat and turned to stare out the window.

You heard him let out a puff of amusement before he put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot.

“What type of shit you do for work?” he asked once y’all were out on the open road and out of the parking garage.

“I’m a lawyer,” you said proudly before pointing to the upcoming street. “Make a left at the next light.” 

“What kind of lawyer?” he questioned as he turned left. 

“Corporate.” 

“Mmm, smart and pretty.” 

And that's pretty much how the trip to and from the liquor store went. You two getting to know each other. Surprisingly, the lookalike was easy to talk to. He reminded you too much of your man. You were going to start getting whiplash. You didn't ask him about his life back in the Glen. You wanted your boyfriend to trust you with that information.

You both walked back into the apartment carrying bags of booze. Fontaine number one, Yo-Yo, and Slick Charles were still conversing at the dinner table.

As a peace offering, Fontaine number two handed Slick Charles his vodka and orange juice. At least he was trying, you thought. 

You five settled on the couch with your drinks and watched the first two Bad Boys flicks. Yo-Yo fell asleep against Slick Charles halfway through the second film.

You were once again seated between your boyfriend and his duplicate. Your feet eventually wound across your man's lap, and he rubbed soothing circles into your ankles.

After twenty minutes, Yo-Yo began to snore, so Slick decided to call it a night, waking her up and helping her to her feet. They were really sweet to each other when they wanted to be. 

"Baby, I'mma walk them out," your boyfriend stated as he pecked your lips before strolling to the front door. "I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder before shutting the door, leaving you alone with Fontaine number two. 

Your brow furrowed in confusion. He never walked them all the way out. Then it dawned on you that he wanted to have another private conversation with them when you were not around. 

You slumped on the couch, tucking your foot beneath you as you grumbled in frustration.

“Aye, you good?” Fontaine asked as he took his eyes off the tv screen to glance over at you. 

“I’m good,” you lied as you turned to look at him. “You ready for bed?”

“You gon’ let me sleep here?” he asked, surprise clear in his voice. 

“Well, duh Fontaine,” you huffed. “Unless you got some other friends in Memphis that I don’t know about?”

What did he think? That you were going to toss his ass out with nowhere to go?

“I don’t think yo boyfriend gon’ be cool with that.”

“I don’t give a fuck what the other you has to say at the moment,” you sneered, “do you want to stay here or not?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then it’s settled,” you dismissed.. 

“Can we finish the movie first? This one is my favorite,” he nodded towards the tv.

“Sure.”

Fontaine wandered back into the apartment about fifteen minutes later, scoffing at the two of you laughing on the couch.

“And where is this nigga stayin’, Y/N?” he blurted, attitude rancid as fuck. 

“Here with us,” you said brightly, stating the obvious. The credits began to roll so you grabbed the remote to turn off the tv. 

“Oh, hell nah,” he complained as he rolled his eyes at the both of you. “Why he gotta stay here with us?” 

“Where else is he supposed to stay? With Slick and Yo-Yo?” You folded your arms against your chest, kissing your teeth in annoyance. Fontaine number one and Fontaine number two were going to have to get along sooner or later. This hostility shit between them wasn’t going to fly. 

“He can stay at—“

“—Just let him stay, baby,” you interrupted, throwing up your hands as you stood up from the couch. 

What was the goddamn problem? It made sense that everybody should stick together. Maybe only to you. 

“Aight, fine,” he grunted, stomping off into the kitchen. 

“Dramatic ass nigga,” Fontaine number two mumbled under his breath as he stood up too. 

You shook your head at him in amusement, fighting back a giggle. This situation was so bizarre that you had to take it lightly or else you'd lose your fucking mind. He shrugged at you and scooped up his bags. You motioned for him to follow you into the guest room down the hall.

You helped him with unpacking and began hanging his clothes in the closet. You chuckled to yourself since his wardrobe was identical to your Fontaine's. The two men were obviously quite the same, but there were one or two physical variances that you chose to keep to yourself. 

“Why you bein’ so nice to me?” he blurted, taking a small step towards you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you replied, eyes narrowing as you leaned back against one of the closet doors. 

He took another step towards you, pausing to look you up and down before fixing his gaze on your face.

“I ain’t him, you know?”

But you kind of are, you thought. 

“You think I’m only bein’ nice to you because you share the same face as my boyfriend?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. 

You sighed deeply and looked out the window, gaze focusing on the shining full moon. "I'm bein’ nice to you because you're a human being who's been through a lot of unfair shit." You turned your attention back to him, eyes locking with his. "I think a little kindness is the least you deserve, don't you?"

He didn't respond, taken aback by your kind words, and after several seconds of stillness, he nodded his head so slowly you'd have missed it if you hadn't already been staring at him.

Of course, this Fontaine had trust issues as well. You couldn’t really blame him. He was keeping it together much better than you would have been in his shoes. 

“Alright,” you sighed, taking one last look around the room before smiling softly at him, “anything else you need before I go to bed?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded as he plopped down on the bed, “can I get my gun back?” 

Hmm, you thought. You didn’t see why not. Slick Charles was gone and the situation seemed diffused for the time being. 

As you approached him, you carefully removed the weapon from your waistband, holding it in your palm. 

You held out your hand to him, and he reached out to take it, but you pulled it closer to your chest and said, “As long as you promise to keep it away unless our lives are in danger.” 

“Aight.” he agreed, reaching for the gun again, but you tightened your grip on the steel. 

“I’m serious, Fontaine.” 

He rose slowly, towering over you while peering down into your eyes. You took a much-needed step back since you could hear every breath he took and smell the sweet tang of his cologne.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a sly smirk as you took a step back from him. He cleared his throat and gave you a look, indicating that he was being serious. 

“I promise,” he whispered, reaching for the firearm for a third time and this time you let him take it.  

After ensuring that Fontaine number two was settled in, you closed his bedroom door and shuffled around the apartment, switching off all the lights and checking that the entrance and windows were locked.

You entered the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend and gently closed the door behind you. Fontaine was already in bed, pretending to be sleeping. 

“So, what? You gonna pretend like today ain’t happen?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in annoyance. 

“Y/N,” Fontaine groaned, pulling a pillow over his head to drown out your voice.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me, ‘Taine! We have to discuss this,” you walked over to your dresser and began to undress, pulling a drawer open to grab a set of pajamas. 

“I ain’t in the mood to talk about this shit, aight?” 

“Were you ever goin’ to tell me about all this wild shit that happened to you?”

He tightened his grip on the pillow, pressing it down even further over his head, ignoring you.

You tossed your clothes in the hamper and finished buttoning your pajama blouse before marching over to the bed, flipping back the covers, and snatching the pillow off his head.

“Fontaine!” 

“What?!” he fumed, sitting up as he glared at you wildly. 

“You can’t ignore this! Not this time. Why didn’t you tell me this happened to you?”

“What was a nigga supposed to say?! Hey baby by the way I was made in a fuckin’ tube,” he scoffed then shook his head.

“Wait, so you think me findin’ out about you bein’ a clone would make me love you any less?” you asked, your frustration dissipating as you noticed the petrified look in his deep brown eyes.

“You don’t get it…”

“Then explain it to me,” you urged.

“Nah. I’m goin’ to sleep,” he said, turning his back to you and settling under the covers. 

You weren't sure how much more of this you could take. You were used to Fontaine shutting down amid difficult conversations, which you understood to some degree, but it was becoming painfully obvious to you that he didn't trust you at all. Most likely, he never did. It's unfair to you because you've never given him a reason not to trust you.

What’s a relationship without trust?

You switched off the lamp on your bedside table, let out a deep breath, and slid beneath the covers. It took some time, but Fontaine's soft snores eventually lulled you to sleep.

[orimuraa]

₊˚⊹⋆🍁⋆⊹ Day 1: My royalty - Kim Sunoo

(synopsis) 🍂 it’s now autumn, so, as one does, you and your boyfriend do skincare for the fall ₊⊹

kim sunoo x fem!reader 🍂 petnames, kisses and cuddles 🍂 skincare with sunoo 🍂 cute and short drabble ^3^ 🍂 wc 472

masterlist

fall was now in the air and the leaves were changing color, meaning only one thing for you and your boyfriend. skincare change. both you and sunoo took skincare VERY seriously and if you missed a day, both of you acted as if your faces would fall off. so, naturally, as the air gets colder and the humidity changes, so does the skincare routines! and today, was the first day of the autumn skincare.

"ynnie!! come quick! i have the masks~" sunoo shouted to you from the bathroom. you were in charge of all the snacks and entertainment while doing the skincare and sunoo was in charge of getting everything out and in order.

"coming!!" you yelled back, dropping off the snacks on the bed and rushing into the bathroom where sunoo was standing there with two pumpkin face masks set out on the table. you both were all cozy in matching autumn pjs and the two of you had just gone out to buy a ton of stuff in preparation for the new change in season. sunoo had a bright, excited smile on his face as both of you very much enjoyed the fall season and the skincare that came with it.

now settling into your bed, with face masks on, you turned on the tv to the new drama you and sunoo had recently been binge watching together. the sheets had been changed to the autumn ones and the usual floral incense that was burning in your room had now been replaced with an apple cider one, making it truly seem like fall.

"cheers to autumn!!" you smiled, raising you cup of hot cocoa to sunoo.

"cheers to autumn, pretty," his eyes holding so much love for you. even though you both looked very silly with the face masks on, sunoo still admired your beauty underneath the mask.

once the masks were off, you both enjoyed putting on each other's routines for each other, laughing every second until your stomachs were both cramping from all the laughter.

"happy autumn, pretty," sunoo said softly, kissing your lips ever so gently, leaving your cheeks slightly dusted with pink.

"happy autumn to you too sun sun," you smiled back, pulling him in for a warm embrace. autumn was your's and sunoo's season. it was the season when you two first got together and overall just a season that held so much meaning to it for you two.

the comfort of sunoo beside you and the autumn smelling candle that was lit right next to your bed just felt so right. the way his arm fit perfectly on you waist and the warmth from his body and the covers over you was just perfect. you were so happy that it was now fall and it was safe to say that the feeling was mutual.

fictober day 1!!! i'm so excited for this whole month of just having fun and writing with @kpislby and @seozii <3333 please look forward to all of our works and go show support and love to each of our works! likes, reblogs, and feedback are always welcome! happy fall everyone!

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany

comment or send in an ask to be added to the taglist!

[chrisevansonly]

𝑪𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒆 & 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒆 (𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒄 1)

☁︎harry styles x reader

☁︎there is nothing more comforting than the smell of cinnamon and spice to start off october

☁︎no warnings, just fluff and domesticity

☁︎day 1 of my fall celebration!! i’m so excited for this month and the fun little things i have planned, fall is my favourite season and time of year<3

There was nothing quite like the smell of cinnamon, fresh apples and the subtle hint of vanilla that had begun to filter throughout your home. It was well known that as soon as it hit October 1st, you were pulling out the fall scents, decorations and the month long baking streak would begin. Everything from pies to muffins, cookies, loaves: you name it you were probably planning to bake it. You made sure to inform Harry of this very early on in the relationship, and now nearing your 5 years together it came as no surprise to him to be hit with what he could only describe as fall on steroids. 

“I guess its October 1st then” 

Turning at the sound of his voice you smiled 

“Smells so good doesn’t it?”

“Cinnamon spice and everything nice as you always say right baby?”

Shrugging your shoulders 

“It is simply the best time of the year, and you’re in luck because I have some delicious cinnamon apple bread in the oven right now!”

Harry would be lying if he said the excitement on your face wasn’t the most adorable thing in the world. Especially when you stood in front of him with your smiley face pumpkin apron on, hair up and a little bit of flour on your cheek which he gently brushed off with his thumb.

“I do love when you bake this much…never really used to love fall this much until I met you, did you know that?”

“Really?”

Pulling you into his chest he nodded

“The time of year is pretty, and I do enjoy the fall treats, but I never appreciated it this much, and I think it’s because when I think of fall, now I think of you”

Your face flushed as you looked up at him

“And you don’t think this is too much?”

“Nothing is too much if it involves you…besides now I can’t picture our home not smelling this delicious all October or without the decorations you love so much”

“Thank you”

He chuckled softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear 

“For what?”

“Letting me go crazy and basically turning our home into a Martha Stewart catalogue” 

Harry threw his head back laughing, before shaking his head and bringing his lips down to yours, slowly your hands found their usual spot at the back of his neck, holding him to you. Eventually he pulled away so you could both catch your breath, the sound of the oven going off a few seconds later, the same smile of excitement spreading back across your face. Harry watched intently, leaning up against the kitchen counter, following your every move as you pulled out your loaves. The smell only causing your mouth to water, realistically you could make these recipes year round but they never hit quite as good as they did when the leaves began to change and the air got colder. 

“This needs to cool for a little while, so while that happens can you help me string the little pumpkin lights out front?”

With the puppy dog eyes you were batting at him he’d never be able to say no

“Pumpkin lights?”

He watched you smile as you walked to the dining room table and pulled out a box, sure enough inside there were little orange pumpkins that were lights, strung together with a string.

“Yes! See?! How cute are these!!”

“So cute m’love, very cute”

“Will you help me…? Pretty please?”

Harry smiled

“Well since you said pretty please..”

“Yay! Thank you!!”

He let out a laugh as you grabbed his hand and dragged him towards the front door, there was nothing else Harry loved more in the world than seeing you so elated over something as simple as pumpkin lights. What seemed like the most mundane object to others, was something of such great meaning to you, and it all tied back to the season. The season you loved and taught Harry to love too, and he’d be damned if he ever let you go, because October would never be the same without you in it.

It’s like you’ve always said, cinnamon spice and everything nice.

[celestiall-ghost]

I wanted some rottmnt fall-themed farm content this October, so I wrote a little one-shot! Happy Halloween!

--

Raph set his arms on the sill, leaning towards the open window.

The wind had finally began to change, cold air licking its way inside with gentle strokes that pushed the leaves this way and that.

He rested his chin on his forearms, watching the way the air fluttered against the old oak tree. Small leaves flitted to the ground slowly.

Raph tugged at the waistband of his shorts, then tilted his head, willing himself to listen to the rustling sound of the leaves as they slid against each other. Fall truly brought beautiful weather.

Thudding sounded on the stair landing, and after a few moments Raph’s bedroom door was flung open, his youngest brother smiling at him all sunshine orange and grass green.

"Raph!" Mikey beamed. "Come down to breakfast, I made pumpkin cookies!" His hands brushed down the front of his overalls, and cinnamon colored crumbs trickled. He cocked his head, taking in Raph kneeling by the window. "Whatcha doing?"

Raph glanced back at the tree outside, standing and reaching for the window latch. "Just listening to the weather. The oak tree is going to lose all its leaves pretty soon, I think."

"That's fall for you." Mikey mused. "Everything always looks so barren and sad by the time winter rolls around." He tucked his hands in his belt loops, sighing. Then he stepped toward Raph, face alight. "Now come on, pumpkin cookies!" He gestured downstairs excitedly.

"For breakfast?"

Mikey grabbed his hand, leading him towards the stair landing. "Uh, yes! Tomorrow's a holiday; we gotta celebrate! The big pumpkin sale and the corn maze are gonna be great!"

"That's right, I better double check the fields today..." Raph said, listening to the wooden stairs creak beneath their feet.

"Cookies first, Raphie. Lee and Don have probably already eaten half of them."

They rounded the stairs into the kitchen, where Leo and Donnie were indeed stuffing their faces with pumpkin cookies as fast as humanely possible. Both sitting on the counter, they looked up and immediately froze, staring at Mikey and Raph wide-eyed. Leo quickly brushed crumbs from his mouth, Donnie following suit a beat later.

They both pointed to each other, trying to shift the blame.

"Hey! Stop eating all the cookies, you two!" Mikey scolded, stealing the plate from where it sat between them.

"It was Donnie!" ("It was Leo!")

Raph grumbled lightheartedly, pulling the twins off of the counter and setting them on their feet. "Both of you are greedy little cookie thiefs!"

"Can't leave 'em alone for five minutes!" Mikey tutted.

Raph now picked up one of the cookies, pinching it between two fingers and noting the soft golden-brown color. They smelled like fresh pumpkin and cinnamon, and upon first bite he understood why the twins had been gobbling them with vigor. Dang, Mikey knew how to bake.

"Okay." He announced, and Leo and Donnie looked up from where they were antagonizing Mikey for trying to keep the plate out of their reach. "We've got to check all the fields before Halloween tomorrow, so Donnie and Mikey, you'll check the pumpkin patch, and Leo, you're with me in the corn maze."

There was a collective groan.

"Ugh, Raph, it's like, morning. Can't we wait until Halloween night to check everything?" Leo complained, managing to snatch another cookie while Mikey was distracted.

"Hey!"

"No, Leo, we have to prepare the fields in advance. Do you want people coming here only to find rotten pumpkins and a blocked maze?"

"Well I'm not complaining." Donnie said haughtily. "Come Michael, we'll pick out a pumpkin so you can make more cookies tonight." Donnie stood up and beckoned Mikey to follow as he walked toward the back door.

Mikey sprung up. "Alright! I was also thinking I could make a pumpkin cake roll, so we'd need-"

The door closed behind them as they left the house, shutters rustling from a stream of wind that had found its way inside.

Raph looked toward Leo, who was finishing off the rest of the cookies.

"Alright, come on."

...

"Raph, we've been out here for hours; the sun is setting, are we done yet!?"

Raph hiked up the armful of corn stalks that was digging into his bicep, shaking his head. "Not yet. We have to clear out the last track of the maze and make sure there's no snakes near the irrigator. Then we’ll be done."

Leo was also burdened with a large load of cornstalks; it had taken most of the day to clear out all the fallen or dead ones that had been blocking the maze tracks. They were both sweaty and tired, but I was worth it to see the field in such good condition.

"Okay. I'll go check for snakes. I don't think my back can handle carrying anymore stalks." Leo panted. Raph glanced over at him, noting the pained expression. Leo couldn't carry quite as much as he could, but he had ran more loads because he was faster. There were little scratches from the stiff leaves crisscrossed along his arms where his tank top didn't cover.

"Sounds good."

By the time Raph came back from his last load, the sun had finally set, leaving a quiet darkness over the corn field. The stalks went higher than his head, rising into the sky to mingle with the slowly appearing stars. He walked through the maze, trying to remember how to get the irrigation well. It smelled like damp earth and sweet, strong corn.

The maze was actually hard to navigate in the dark, which gave Raph some hope that people would pay for and enjoy it. Donnie had plotted the design months ago in preparation for the Halloween rush. People would pay for entrance to the maze on Halloween night, and afterwards, the corn would be sold, just in time for Thanksgiving. By Christmas they would be rolling in money.

Well, not literally. He would have to remind Donnie that.

Giving up, Raph stopped in the middle of a dark track, walled on either side with corn. "Leo!?" He glanced around, trying to spot movement in the stalks and wondering if he was even close to the irrigation ditch. It was so quiet. Only crickets chirped. Had Leo gone inside already?

A stalk twitched at the edge of his vision, and Raph whipped toward it, peering cautiously through the thickly crowded leaves. "Leo?"

From across the track another corn plant moved, and Raph jumped, now on edge. The shadows seemed long and distorted, making him feel as though something was watching him.

If Leo wasn't in the corn...what was?

The rustling seemed to be getting closer, and Raph backed away, wishing he knew which direction the exit was in. It was almost here, crashing against the corn stalks loudly until- swish!

A garden snake slithered out from the corn, curling innocently towards Raph’s feet. He still yelped, before taking a deep breath and calming down. "Sorry little buddy," he said, picking it up carefully with a stick. "You can't stay here." He stood, looking around again. He still didn't know which way was the exit. To pile on, the maze was beginning to drop in temperature as the stars rose. He shivered, walking forward with the snake held out in front of him.

The darkness grew deeper. He had a bad feeling he was going further into the maze, rather than out of it.

More rustling.

"I'm warning you, I've got a snake!" Raph brandished his snake-stick towards the looming stalks. The rustling was quiet, and Raph leaned down toward it, assuming it was another snake. "Snakey?" The garden snake on his stick looked back at him curiously.

The rustling grew louder again, and this time Raph was ready, picking up another stick and holding it out towards the corn. "If you're a snake, I'm not gonna hurt ya."

However, the rustling became obviously bigger, bending the stalks this way and that. Raph’s gaze roved upwards, terrified. This was no snake.

With a crash, something big broke through the leaves and collided with Raph, knocking him out of his crouch and into the cool earth.

"Boo!" The thing yelled. It began laughing obnoxiously and Raph recognized it as Leo, shoving his brother off of him. His adrenaline was still spiked through the roof, breath coming hard and quick.

"You should have seen your face! Oh, I got you so good!"

Raph scowled at Leo’s snigger. "You scared the baloney out of me!" He punched Leo’s shoulder, and Leo pretended to look hurt, rubbing it dramatically.

"Worth it!"

"Crap! Leo, what happened to the snake!?"

They both stood up, squinting their eyes through the darkness. With a jump, Leo smacked a hand to the ground and drew it back up, now holding the little garden snake by the tail. It wriggled in his grip, clearly unhappy.

Raph picked up the forgotton stick, stepping closer. "Eugh, don't hold it like that, it's creepy."

Leo smirked and dangled the snake close toward him, forcing Raph to back up lest the snake make contact with his face. "Come on, Raph, this is like, the one time a year things are supposed to be a little creepy. Just wait'll you see the prank me and Donnie have planned for tomorrow night."

Raph bonked him on the head lightly, trying to look stern. "No, I will not see, because you two are gonna promise to be on your best behavior." He instructed, carefully getting the snake out of Leo’s hold and setting it on the stick.

"Aw, Raph! It's Halloween! It's no fun when it's all treats and no tricks..."

"Look, just don't cause any trouble. We really need the money this year." Raph looked down, beginning to walk along the maze track.

Leo sighed. "Yeah, I know. With Pops in the hospital, and all."

It got quiet, and for a moment they walked on in silence with only the soft chirps of crickets and the pretty shine of the stars.

They approached a fork, and Raph looked between the two tracks. He had forgotten that he was completely turned around. "You know the way out?" He turned to Leo.

Leo’s face shifted stiffly from a frown to a smirk in the fraction of a second. "Uh, duh. I memorized the maze when we first planted the seeds, Raph, I'm the maze master." He took the lead, taking them towards the right pathway. After a few turns, the porch light began to shine through the stalks, signifying that they were close to home.

Leo stopped as they broke through the exit, and Raph let the snake off its stick and straightened up. "Sorry I kept you so long in the field today, bud."

Leo began moving again, walking towards the back door. "Don't call me bud. That's what dad called me when I was little."

"Sorry."

"Let's just go eat some pumpkin cake and pretend things are okay, yeah?" Leo looked away, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

Raph stared at the back of his head. "Things are okay, I promise."

"You don't know that. Don't lie to me, Raph."

Raph stood just behind him, feet on the porch step. "The money's gonna help."

"Sure." Leo's fist flinched, and the doorknob turned sharply.

"You guys are finally back!"

--

I ended up not really finishing this up with something happy, sorry for the depressing ending lol. Let me know if I should write more even though October's over!

[dearstvckyx]

Flufftober | 10.20 |

Falling in love in October - Luke Hughes

It was mid-October, and the crisp autumn air clung to everything at the University of Michigan. The leaves crunched underfoot, a golden and red blanket across the campus. Luke Hughes had never really been one for romanticizing seasons. Sure, fall was fine—he liked the cool weather and the excuse to wear hoodies—but he wasn’t one to swoon over falling leaves and pumpkin spice lattes.

That changed when he met her.

They had met in their shared Sports Management class they both dreaded. Luke, more of a natural on the ice than in a classroom, found himself needing help with the readings and concepts. She, on the other hand, had a sharp mind and an easy way with explanations.

She wasn’t part of the hockey crowd, and that’s what intrigued him. She didn’t treat him like the next big NHL star or held him up to his brothers standards; she treated him like a regular student, one struggling to keep up with marginal utility and demand curves. That’s how they became study partners. He appreciated that she called him out when he wasn’t focused, and she appreciated that he tried his hardest to stay on top of things.

The first few weeks were just study sessions in the library or grabbing coffee to go over notes. But as October rolled in, so did a shift in the air between them.

One late afternoon, they met at a park near campus to go over some notes before an exam. The trees were at peak color, golden light bouncing off the reds and yellows. They sat under a large oak, textbooks open, but they were both distracted. Luke looked up from his notes to find her looking out at the view, the wind tugging at her hair.

“Pretty, huh?” Luke said, his voice a little softer than usual.

She smiled, her eyes lingering on the vibrant leaves. “Yeah, it’s beautiful. October’s always been my favorite. Everything feels… warmer, even though it’s cold.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the wind filling the gaps between their words. She glanced over at him, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You know, Luke, you’re not as distracted as you used to be.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I had a good teacher.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she turned her attention back to the trees. “Do you ever just… stop and take it all in? Like, really appreciate where you are?”

Luke thought about it. He was always so focused on hockey and getting better that he rarely just was. But with her, these moments felt different. “Not really,” he admitted. “But maybe I should.”

That’s when it started—the shift from study partners to something more. They began meeting outside of their usual library sessions. They’d grab lunch or coffee, and sometimes, they didn’t even talk about school. They’d just walk around campus or sit in that same park, talking about life and their dreams, the warmth of her voice filling him up in ways he didn’t expect.

One evening, after a particularly late study session, they were walking back to her dorm when she stopped suddenly. Luke, a step ahead, turned back to her, confused.

“What’s up?” he asked.

She hesitated, her breath visible in the cool night air. “Do you ever think about… more?”

“More?” he asked, stepping closer.

“More than just study partners,” she clarified, her voice almost a whisper.

Luke’s heart raced, his hands suddenly feeling clammy in his jacket pockets. He had been thinking about it—a lot. But he didn’t know how to say it. Now, standing here in the dim glow of the campus streetlights, he realized he didn’t need the perfect words. He just needed to be honest.

“Yeah,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot.”

Her eyes softened, a small smile playing on her lips. She took a step closer, and without another word, she reached up, her hand resting on his cheek. The world seemed to slow down around them, the cool October breeze swirling, the smell of fallen leaves in the air.

Luke didn’t wait any longer. He closed the space between them, his lips meeting hers in a kiss that felt like everything he hadn’t realized he’d been missing. It was soft, tentative at first, but quickly grew more sure, more certain.

When they pulled away, their breaths mingled in the night air, both of them smiling like two kids who had just shared their first secret.

“I think we just fell in love in October,” she whispered with a shy laugh, referencing the song that had played in the background at their latest study session.

Luke chuckled, pulling her closer. “Sounds about right.”

From that moment on, everything was different. Study sessions were filled with lingering touches and knowing glances. They still met at the park under the oak tree, but now they sat closer, hands intertwined as they watched the leaves fall.

As October faded and the Michigan winter approached, Luke found that fall wasn’t just about the cool weather or the changing colors anymore. It was about her, and the warmth she brought into his life, even when the world around them started to freeze.

[sukirichi]

closer | gojo satoru x reader

a/n: aaah my first ask and it’s a request! thanks so much this is so kind and sweet of you 🥺 and here it is! I’m not sure if it’s exactly what you wanted but I hope you like it anyway! 

summary: in which Gojo has the need to be closer to you after a long day of hard work

pairings: jealous! Gojo x reader

warnings: none, other than this isn’t proofread! (This is just a fluffy domestic short fic!)

masterlist ! 

The best part about being the strongest jujutsu sorcerer isn’t the power (although Gojo basks in that too) but rather the fact that he allows himself to completely tear his walls down and be putty in your hands once he comes home from work.

Gojo would never say it out loud that the best part of his days is waking up next to you, pressing kisses in your still sleepy face and you whining for five more minutes, then watching as you wobble like a penguin to the shower so you can start your day. Although he doesn’t really ask much from you, his heart still swells every time you make him a sandwich, kiss it and claim that it’s “made with love” before he proudly shows off his ‘breakfast’ of the day to his students.

Even in work, he still thinks of you. It’s quite impossible for this man to stop thinking of you; you and him never left that honeymoon phase even after two years of marriage and a much longer time of dating.

He could be exorcising a curse then get distracted afterwards after seeing an Italian restaurant that he just knows you’ll love. Next thing you know, Gojo flicks his wrist and exorcises the curse in a flash before hopping into that restaurant to look at the menu. Loving is knowing; Gojo takes the time to see if the restaurant would be respectful of your allergies every time before booking reservations.

It’s no secret that this man is completely enamoured with you, if his sappy good morning kisses accompanied with light, teasing touches down your legs is not an indication already. Gojo is confident and feels safe in your relationship and he’s never the type to get jealous because Gojo is Gojo – who else would be better than him for you?

Or at least that’s what he used to believe, until he comes home with a bag of pumpkin spice bread for you, arms wide open and a “Darling~” about to leave his lips when he sees your current predicament.

Nanami is leaning against one of the chairs in your cafe downstairs from your home, the usual stoic man’s lips and cheekbones slightly raised in laughter as you tell him something about your day. Gojo can’t exactly understand the worse falling from your lips because he’s too focused on the way you’re leaning forward, eyes absolutely crinkled into half-moons while you share a strawberry tart with him. Gojo sees the cups of tea have already been emptied, meaning Nanami has been here for a much longer time than he is welcomed.

Gojo clenches his jaw. He’s told you many times you should get a bell so you’d know when a customer comes in, but now he’s thankful you’re stubborn and refused to have one because he can hide in one of the propped up tables and chairs hidden in the darkness.

He can’t help the sigh he releases. He’s late – like he always is.

You’re a regular human who isn’t able to see curses. You’ve only ever known about their existence ever since you started dating Gojo, but other than that, you’re completely unaware of how these things work. It doesn’t bother Gojo. In fact, he quite likes that he can be just a regular man around you, and he basks in the comfort of not having to worry about your safety if ever you were also like him.

He met you when you were just still a barista who helped your boss bake from time to time. Gojo was only a student then who hopped from one cafe to another in search of the best delicacy, but he got more than what he bargained from when he met the fresh-faced and bubbly young woman standing behind the counter whose smile was sweeter than the most sugary dessert you’ve ever made.

As the two of you grew older, Gojo supported you in building your own cafe since you’re so passionate about it and it’s been your dream since childhood.

He still remembers how you’d spend hours in the kitchen trying out new ingredients, so much so that you forget to eat on most days. Gojo is left with the task of literally hauling your ass up upstairs and force you to shower with him. You lie that you’re not really tired, but the moment his skilled hands roll the tension out of your shoulders, a contented and grateful sigh paints those lips he loves to kiss.

One of the things Gojo loves doing with you is taste-testing. He’s not around the house most of the time when you work since he’s a busy man himself, but on the days he actively chooses to annoy Principal Yaga and go AWOL, he’d sit obediently on the counter and let you use him as your own taste experimenting dummy.

When night falls and you’re just about ready to head to bed; satisfied and proud of another day of hard work, Gojo comes home early to help you clean up the cafe and prop the furniture so you don’t overstrain your muscles.

Or at least, he wants to come home early to help you. It’s just that he often gets carried away on his missions and stays behind a lot longer than he’d like because the world of curses is extremely demanding. After seeing that you probably already lifted all these heavy chairs and cleaned up everything by yourself even when you’re tired, and you still have the ability to smile and laugh like that in Nanami’s presence when he should be the one on the receiving end, Gojo is unable to fight back the twisting feeling that pools in his stomach.

Forcing a huge grin on his face, Gojo loudly smacks the paper bag in the table between you and Nanami, his hands resting on the blond’s shoulder who only groans at his presence. “Yo!” He greets, winking when your eyes gleam brighter now that your husband is home.

There’s no trace or hint of anything that could indicate you’re upset with him because he didn’t come home early. Instead, you bow and excuse yourself while picking up your cups and the small plate where remnants of your signature tart had been, and Gojo watches with longing eyes as you disappear in the back room.

Now that you’re gone, Gojo drops in your seat, takes off his blindfold, and glares at Nanami. “Nanamin,” he drawls out. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here – getting chummy with my wife, no less.”

Gojo knows he’s being petty and childish. Of course he is. This is Nanamin we’re talking about; the man is as frigid and stone and he’s as interested in romantic relationships as much as he respects Gojo Satoru. Plus, it’s you, and you have eyes for Gojo and Gojo only, but it’s also Gojo Satoru who’s mixed in the formula, and he’s not the least bit ashamed that he’s being immature right now.

Of course he’s jealous. Of course he’s possessive.

You’re his sweet, little wife – of course he doesn’t like it.

As if reading his mind but couldn’t be bothered to deal with him, Nanami slides an envelope across the table. “Ijichi took a sick leave so he couldn’t give this to you. I was tasked to hand it over to you instead so I came around. It’s not my fault you come home late and your wife insisted I have a short meal before I came home,” Gojo opens his to retort something stupid when you emerge from the back, pretty face tired yet still patient as ever.

“Leaving already, Nanami?” You smile up at him, hand slipping through Gojo’s bigger and rough ones. He doesn’t know why the gesture leaves him stunned, especially when you step close enough that he feels your heat on this sudden cold night. He’s so entranced by everything about you he doesn’t even notice the blond bidding his farewell.

Gojo watches as you turn to face him, smaller hands reaching up to caress his face. Now that his blindfold is gone, his hair falls down to forehead, your dainty fingers brushing them away from his eyes so you could marvel in its beauty.

Like a little kid, he melts into a puddle when you do that exact eye-smile he’s seen you do with Nanami, only this time, it’s reserved, private, and intimate.

Gojo shuts his eyes in the process, nearly stumbling forward, which he doesn’t really let happen with anyone because he’s the Gojo Satoru; strongest jujutsu sorcerer. But you don’t mind, you never do, and if anything it only makes you laugh when he pretends to be deadweight by collapsing into the crook of your neck.

“What a big baby,” you tease with your hand rubbing up and down his back in a soothing motion, all the tiredness and exhaustion from his day disappearing into thin air.

“Yes,” he concedes as he follows you up the stairs where you both change into your pyjamas and settle in for the night. “But I’m your big baby.”

The nickname makes you laugh, head thrown back as giggles erupted in your chest. You’ve already removed your makeup, hair down from your work hairnet and flowing in loose waves. Gojo stifles a gasp then, because you’re in his arms, in his bed, smelling like him, and you’re so soft, so free, so vulnerable and the way you lean into his shoulders while he rubs his cheek on the crown of your head makes him feel like he’s falling in love all over again.

He’ll never get tired of this – of you.

The mere thought of seeing you with someone else that isn’t him doesn’t sit well with Gojo. Now he understands why he’s so jealous and immature – it’s because he hasn’t wanted anyone or anything as much as he loves you.

He can’t imagine a life where he’ll wake up to his mornings without your limbs sprawled across his longer ones, or how he may never hear your sleep talks about birds and butterflies; which is utterly ridiculous, but because it’s you, he finds it adorable. Sometimes Gojo wonders how he ever even lived before meeting, but of course, those were days filled with nothing but him doing weird stupid shit.

Not that he’s stopped doing that, but now at least he’s doing those weird stupid with you.

And he only ever wants to share those with you, so he doesn’t and will never allow anyone else to take what’s rightfully his. You’re his wife, the love of his life, the sunshine in his mornings and the sunset of his beautiful dusk.

He doesn’t care if he’s petty – he’s got every right to be jealous because Gojo Satoru never shares what’s his.

When his mind races back to the way you smile for Nanami again, his hold on you grows tighter. You don’t complain when Gojo suddenly presses his lips into yours, a breathy moan blessing his ears once he finally moves on top of you. Gojo runs his hand under your – his – shirt, letting those talented hands of his roam upon the expanse of his skin like an artwork he’ll never get tired of looking at.

“Missed you,” he mumbles in between the lip-locking, leaning closer when your nails start to scratch his scalp as a way to soothe him from the night. Nothing about the kiss is hurried or fervent; rather, it’s calm and steady, slow and passionate, much like how everything he feels for you is similar to a calm, rainy day where he’ll stay in with a hot cup of chocolate.

You’re home – warmth and comfort – and you know you’re his just as he knows he’s yours, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing you like he wants you to never forget that.

You shiver when Gojo’s fingers tickle your ribcage, that spot always having been sensitive. Your husband swipes his tongue over your lips that still tastes like strawberries from your lipbalm, and he groans, falling forward when you allow him access into your sweet, sweet mouth. Meanwhile, you travel down from his hair into those broad, strong shoulders that always seemed like a fortress to you.

Gojo was so big and strong compared to you. There’s no denying he could easily break you if he wanted to, but he’s nothing but gentle – perhaps a little eager – when he holds you like this.

There’s no memory of how you end up on top of his lap that night with the covers barely strewn across your bodies, Gojo’s back pressing into the bed frame that’s witnessed endless nights of passion. His hands then run over your hips, squeezing it a little too hard until you rut against his hips.

“Hmm,” you moan into his mouth at the friction, while Gojo only smirks at your reaction. Even after years, you’re still so sweet, sensitive, and responsive – he just can’t get enough of it. “Satoru,” the way you say his name is so breathy, almost as if it’s a secret only the two of you should know, so he listens intently at your next words. “You’re a little needy tonight. Did something happen?”

“No,” he lies, smiling to himself once he sees your lips are red and bruised. He’s sure he looks the same, but your eyes are glossed over with love that he can’t resist you pulling you to him as if the space offends him. He trails his lips down to your neck to leave red patches of marks that claims you as his – not that the gold wedding band on your fingers wasn’t doing the job already.

Like the good girl you are, you tilt your head and allow him to do as he pleases. He sucks, licks, kisses and nips at the skin, all the while careful to not hurt you or push you over to the edge since both of you are too tired for the day to ever do anything.

Your head drops to the crook of his neck then, arms wrapped around his shoulders loosely as if you trusted him to catch you whenever you fall – and you know he will. He always will.

Later on, you grow sleepy at the way he starts to pepper kisses into your skin that addictingly smells like cinnamon and vanilla all at the same time. Gojo chuckles to himself at how peaceful you look in that moment, draped over him like a tiny puppy who lives in a world too big for themselves, but that’s not true.

You’re bigger than the universe itself, larger than the vast galaxies he held beneath those eyes, and Gojo finally stops being jealous.

There’s no need to be, after all, not when he’s the one you trust wholeheartedly to tuck you in bed while your soft breathing lulls him into slumber as well. Gojo flicks the lamp off with his finger, not wasting another second before he scoots closer, closer, closer until there’s no more recollection of where you begin and where he ends.

He stands corrected in his statement.

He’ll never get tired of this, of you, for you’re bigger than the universe itself and there’s still a lot of space between the two of you that he can’t wait to cross until your worlds crash and burn.

“Next time,” he promises before kissing your eyelids, “I’ll come home earlier.”

[americasass91]

Healing Ransom

Hello beautiful people!! This will be my first (I’m sure of many) submissions for @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ amazing Autumn Challenge! Fall is my favorite time of the year! It’s got beautiful colors! Pumpkin everything! And Halloween? You just can’t beat it! I hope you enjoy this little story. It stars our one and only Mean Sweater Murder Daddy, Ransom!

Verbal Prompts:

“Please don’t be sad for me.”

“Shove it, satan.”

Location/activity prompts:

Walking through a park with leaves

Jumping in/raking leaves

Words: 3.8k

Rating: Explicit(of course it is😋)

Warnings: smut, Ransom being his usual dickish self, slight angst, death of minor character, funerals, sadness, language

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You had only been asleep for about an hour and a half when you were abruptly woken up by a cell phone vibrating loudly.

You open one eye and look towards the nightstand your phone is on. It’s silent. That means it’s his phone.

You smack your fuck buddy on the back of the head. “Ow, Y/N what the actual fuck?”

You turn over and pull the covers higher up on your naked body. “Your phone’s ringing asshole.”

He mumbles something under his breath you don’t quite catch as he reaches for his phone. “It’s Linda. Ugh she’s probably drunk again and calling to tell me how worthless I am. Fuck her.”

He throws the phone down on the bed and gets comfortable. “And why are you still here? You know how I feel about you spending the night.”

You raise your hand and flip him off. “You’re the one that fucked me into submission. I can’t help it that I fell asleep right after. Don’t worry, your highness, I’ll be out of your hair first thing in the morning.”

He’s about to reply when his phone starts vibrating right against your ass. You shriek and sit up and grab the phone.

Before Ransom even comprehends that you have it, you answer.

“Hello, Linda. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Y/N. Can I talk to Ransom please.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of tears.

You hand the phone to Ransom who looks at you incredulously. “Just take it. She sounds upset.”

He just rolls his eyes and snatches the phone from you. “Mother, why in the fuck are you calling me at 3 in the morning?”

You’re not entirely sure what she’s saying but Ransom went from being annoyed to showing no emotion on his face.

“When?...Who found him?...Okay..well, thanks for letting me know.” He hangs up and throws the phone back onto the nightstand.

He’s silent for a few minutes. He looks over at your questioning stare.

“My father died. Heart attack. His maid found him. Guess he’d been there for awhile.”

You immediately go to pull him into a hug. “Oh, Ransom. I’m so sorry.”

He pushes you away. “Please don’t be sad for me. He was a piece of shit who smoked like a chimney and never took care of himself. It was just a matter of time before something liked this happened.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “But he was your dad, Ransom. It’s okay to be sad about it.” You reach out and place a hand on his shoulder.

He grabs your hand and yanks you onto his lap. “I’m not sad. I don’t actually feel anything. It’s not like we had any kind of a relationship. Now how about since we’re both awake we go for round 5?”

You just roll your eyes and let him take your body to euphoria once more.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

That following Saturday you wake up to the sight of beautiful changing leaves. God you love Fall. It was the best time of the year in your opinion. Pumpkin everything? Yes please! Halloween? Oh, fuck yeah! Your favorite holiday.

You decide you can’t let this beauty go to waste. You throw back the covers and quickly dress in some leggings and a burgundy sweater you’re pretty sure belongs to Ransom.

You can’t help but admire all the beautiful Fall colors as you begin your walk. You don’t even need music right now. You feel so at peace during this particular morning. All the beautiful colors. The slight chill in the air. The smell of cider someone is selling from a cart up the way. You’re definitely going to have to get some of that.

You spot a pile of leaves on your way to the cart and you have the strongest urge to run and jump in them. You stop walking and look around. You’re alone. Fuck it.

You take off and giggle like a little girl again as you launch yourself at the pile of leaves. You lose yourself in them. Forgetting everything for a moment and just enjoying the freeing feeling. You’re enjoying it so much you almost miss your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You sit up and fish it out to see who’s interrupting your childlike moment. Ransom. You roll your eyes. The only time he calls you is when he wants sex. You’re just going to have to tell him you’re too busy at the moment.

You answer and put the phone to your ear as you lay back amongst the leaves. “Ransom, I cannot come over for some fuckery right now. I’m in my happy place.”

“Y/N. Hey. That’s not why I’m calling. Linda just called to let me know the funeral is tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d go with me?”

He doesn’t sound like himself. Sad almost. “Sure, Ran. Of course I’ll be there. Just let me know what time.”

“Visitation is from 2-4. The funeral starts right after. Then of course we’ll go bury him. Sorry your whole day will be full. I know how much you love your weekends.”

You shake your head and wave your hand in the air as if he can see it. “Ransom, don’t worry about that. This is more important. And besides, Monday is Columbus Day so I have an extra day off.”

“So that means you’ll be able to spend the night with me tomorrow night?”

You feel butterflies in your stomach. He’s never asked you to spend the night.

“Well, sure if that’s what you want.”

“Thanks, I’ll need to fuck all of my frustrations out from being around my family all day.”

Ah, there’s the ulterior motive. You feel your heart sink a little. “Yeah, sure. How about I’ll just come to your place tomorrow around 1 and we can head over to the funeral together?”

“Sure, sure. Look I have to go. I have to try to get this chapter written today. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course. Good luck with the chapter.”

“Oh and Y/N? Have fun playing in the leaves.”

With that he hangs up. You look around to make sure he’s nowhere around. How did he know you were in a pile of leaves?

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You head into the funeral with Ransom at around 1:45. Despite everything you can’t help but notice he looks handsome in his dark blue suit.

“God I hate funerals.” He says as he gazes around the room. He spots Linda.

“Well, who likes them?” You ask him as she approaches.

She throws her arms around Ransom’s neck. He reluctantly returns the hug.

“Oh, Ransom! I just can’t believe he’s gone.”

Ransom just rolls his eyes as he looks at you. He mouths ‘Help me’

You put your hand on Linda’s back. “Oh, Linda. I’m so sorry he’s gone.”

She lets go of Ransom and turns towards you. “Thank you dear. Even though he wasn’t my husband anymore I still loved him. A part of me always will.”

You glance over at Ransom who’s trying to avoid Walt that just walked in. You can’t help but know how she feels about loving someone like that. You love Ransom no matter what the 2 of you are. You think you always will.

You nod your head. “Of course you will. He was a big part of your life. And he’s Ransom's dad. He’ll always have a special place in your heart.”

She pulls you in for a hug. When she pulls back she cups your cheek. “I’m well aware that you’re too good for my son. But please don’t leave him. He can’t do any better than you.”

With that she heads over to greet more people filing in. You stand there shocked at her words. Linda has never been unpleasant towards you but that was the nicest damn thing she’s ever said to you.

You spot Ransom leaning against the opposite wall as far away from the other people as he can get.

You head over and stop in front of him with your arms crossed. “Ransom, aren’t you supposed to be talking to your family? Letting people give their condolences.”

“Fuck these people, Y/N. None of them gave a shit about Richard. I bet half of the women in this room fucked him at one point.”

You look around wide eyed to see if anyone was paying attention to you. Luckily they weren’t. “Jesus, Ransom be quiet! This is a funeral. And unlike you, some people are here to grieve!”

“Whatever, Y/N! You’re such a bitch. You didn’t like him either! You always called him a creep! So don’t stand there and act live you give a shit that he’s dead!”

Your mouth drops open. God he’s such an asshole! “You know what, fuck you Ransom! I do give a shit! Just because I thought he was a creep doesn’t mean I wanted him to die! I understand you’re grieving right now but that doesn’t give you the right to treat me like shit. Maybe you should find somebody else to fuck out your frustrations on!”

By now the whole room is looking at you 2. You didn’t mean to be so loud but god dammit did he piss you off.

“You know what, Y/N? Maybe I will! Fuck off!”

He pushes away from the wall and stomps towards the door. “SHOVE IT, SATAN!” You can’t help but yell after him. You then take a look around the room and see everyone staring at you. “Sorry about that.” You quickly leave the room and head towards the kitchen area. You hear footsteps behind you. You turn around and see Meg following you.

“Y/N? Are you okay? God he is such a piece of shit.” She pulls you in for a hug,

You return it gratefully. “Thanks but I’m just worried about Linda. She’s already upset and I am certainly not making things any easier.”

She scoffs as she pulls away from you. “Oh, please! She was chuckling when you called him satan. Said it was an accurate name for him.”

You smile at her feeling relieved. “That’s good then. How are you holding up?”

She returns your smile. “I’m okay. Uncle Richard and I didn’t have a close relationship but I’ll still miss our debates we had.”

You nod in understanding. “I guess I should go find satan.”

Before you have a chance to leave the kitchen, Ransom comes in. He comes over and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t want to be here and I’m sick of these people pretending to grieve when I know they don’t care and I took my anger out on you. You were nice enough to be here with me today, you don’t deserve how I treated you.”

Your heart skips a beat. He never apologizes for anything. You pull away from the hug and cup his cheek. “It’s okay. Apology accepted. You get a free pass today. Now how about we head back in?”

He grabs your wrist and places a kiss on your palm. “Okay, will you stay by me?”

You pull him in for a quick peck. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

The funeral was tastefully done. Ransom refused to ride over in the limo with the rest of the family. He said he wanted to drive over with you.

You pull into the cemetery and get out of the car. You look around for the gravesite. You don’t see one. “Ran, where’s the gravesite?”

Ransom just chuckles and points at the hill. “On the top of the hill. He wanted to be buried in the most expensive spot.”

You look down at your black pumps and then over at the slightly muddy hill. Well this should be fun.

Ransom sees your hesitation. “There’s a brick pathway. Your shoes are safe.”

You sigh in relief. Thank god. You follow the crowd that has now gathered toward the path. Ransom follows in step beside you. He grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. You feel those stupid butterflies in your stomach again.

You can’t help but admire the beautiful fall foliage. It puts a smile on your face despite the sad day.

Ransom rolls his eyes playfully at you. “You and your Fall.”

“It’s beautiful, Ransom! How can you not love it?”

You’re too busy looking at all the leaves to notice him staring at you. “Yeah, it is beautiful.”

You reach the gravesite and stand with Ransom near the front. He still hasn’t let go of your hand. If anything he’s holding onto it tighter.

You can’t help but let some tears fall as the minister says some more beautiful words. You chance a glance at Ransom and you see him wipe a single tear from his face. That makes you give his hand a reaffirming squeeze.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

Ransom wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck out his frustrations on you. He took you right against the wall as soon as you walked into his house. Then again on the island in the kitchen. And again on the stairs. (You’re sure to have bruises from that escapade). Finally finishing in his bed. You passed out almost right after the last one.

You woke up around 2 am with the urge to pee. You look over and see Ransom’s side of the bed empty. He must be downstairs rehydrating after all that fucking. You decide to quickly pee and then head down to find him.

He’s not in the kitchen like you thought. You’re about to go check his study to see if he’s up writing when you see a light on in the living room. You head in and see him sitting on the couch. His back is to you so he hasn’t realized you’re in the room yet. There’s something sitting on his coffee table. You move forward quietly trying not to disturb him in case he wants to be alone.

When you get close enough you see that it’s a framed picture of him and his dad. Ransom can’t be older than 16. They have their arms around each other’s shoulders. His prized Beemer is in the background with a big red bow on top.

That’s when you hear the sniffling. You quickly round the couch and see that Ransom is clutching a pillow and sobbing into it. You take a seat next to him. You put a comforting hand on his back and rub it up and down in a soothing manner.

He looks up at you, tears covering his cheeks. “You know I think this is the only picture I have of me and my dad. I think he was happier than me that day. He was so proud to pass his car down to me.”

You just smile sadly and pull him in for a hug. He throws the pillow away and pulls you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. You gently wipe away his tears with your thumbs. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I never even knew him, Y/N. And now I’m never gonna get the chance to.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck and tightens his arms around your waist. He starts sobbing again.

You rub one hand up and down his back and run your other through his hair. “Shhh, Ransom. I know you’re hurting. I’m so sorry you lost him.”

“I fucking hate this, Y/N! I hate feeling like this. So helpless. And he fucking died alone. That’s gonna be me. I don’t want to die alone.” He looks up at you so innocently. So heartbroken.

You grab his face with both hands. “Hugh Ransom Drysdale, you’re not going to die alone. If you’re that afraid of it then change your ways.”

He lowers his eyes towards his hands that are resting on your hips. “I just hate feeling this way. I didn’t even know him. Why am I so fucking sad?” He looks back up at you.

“Because you didn’t know him and you’re regretting that. It’s too late to do anything about it now. Unfortunately you’re just going to have to deal with it and grieve. Doesn’t mean you can’t change your other relationships though. So you don’t feel like this ever again.”

He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you in just enough until your lips are touching. “It hurts so much, Y/N. Please help me forget. Even for just a little bit. I don’t want to feel like this anymore.” He pulls you in for a fierce kiss, enough to take your breath away.

After you gain back some control you push against his chest. “Ransom, I don’t think this is the best way-”

“Please,Y/N? Please take the pain away.”

Your heart breaks. You look him in the eye and nod your head. He pulls you back in for another heated kiss. If this was the only way you could take away his pain, even if temporary, you’ll give it to him.

You put your hands in his hair and give it a tug making him groan. One of his hands moves to your ass, making you grind against his growing erection. The other remains on the back of your neck, not letting you break the kiss. He needs you close right now.

He pulls back from the kiss. “Need you, baby. Please.”

You quickly stand up to remove your pajama shorts and panties while he lowers his sweats just enough to free himself. You straddle him again and stroke his length up and down a few times, smearing his pre-cum all over. You guide him to your entrance and sink down on him. “Fuck, Ransom. Always feels so good.”

You give yourself a few minutes to adjust once your hips are flush against his. He settles his hands on your waist while yours rest on his shoulders. You lean in for a kiss before you start moving up and down on him. Moving at the hard and fast pace you know he always prefers.

“Wait, baby, slow down.” He grips your hips to stop your movements. You look at him confused. He always likes it hard and fast. He tightens his hold on your hips and starts grinding you on him. “Just need to feel you, Y/N. Can we slow down?”

Your heart flutters. “Of course.” You take over and start grinding against him. Keeping a slow rhythm. You throw your head back and moan. God he feels amazing. You can feel every part of him like this. Usually he’s going so fast you don’t get to appreciate the feeling of him dragging along your walls like this. This isn’t about reaching orgasm. This is intimacy. This is about feelings.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck. “You feel so good, baby. You take me so well. Like you were made for me. Made to fit me. My beautiful Y/N.”

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. You know this might not feel the same for him but it’s making you fall even more in love with him than what you already were.

You're not going to last long. Not only are your emotions getting the best of you but your clit is rubbing deliciously against his pelvis. He can feel you fluttering on his cock.

He pulls back and looks at you. “Gonna come for me pretty girl? I can feel you. You’re squeezing me so good. Let go, Y/N. I’m right behind you.”

You fall apart at his words. His name is a whisper on your lips. He buries his face back into the crook of your neck as he meets his end with a groan. Filling you up with everything he has.

You both stay like that for a minute. Just holding each other like you were afraid the other would disappear. He pulls back and looks at you again. He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles softly at you. “I love you, Y/N. God I love you so fucking much.”

You feel tears fall down your face. “I love you too, Ransom. Always have and always will. I won’t let you die alone.”

He pulls you in for another kiss. “No more of this fuck buddy stuff. I’m in this for real. For the long haul. I can’t feel like this ever again. I can live with how I feel about my dad. But you? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.”

“We’re talking about a relationship here Ransom. The exact thing you always said you didn’t want. What if it doesn’t work out? What if you change your mind?”

“It will work out, I’ll make sure it does. I won’t be changing my mind. You’re it for me.  But if for some reason you decide I’m not what you want, then at least I can say I tried. I’m willing to regret you for the rest of my life.”

You melt at his words. This is all you’ve ever wanted. For him to love you. Why the fuck were you questioning it?

You lean back in for another kiss. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You lean in for another kiss. “Okay. But I’m exhausted. Can you take me to bed now?”

He chuckles and stands you both up. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get you to bed.”

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

You wake up the next morning with the biggest smile on your face. Not only did Ransom confess his love for you last night but it was the most beautiful Fall day outside. You wondered if you could convince him to go for a walk with you.

The smell of coffee hits your nose and you quickly throw back the covers to head downstairs. As you turn to head into the kitchen you find Ransom. He’s dialing a number on his phone. His back is to you.

Curious, you stay behind for a minute to see who he’s calling.

“Hello, Mom? Hi. How are you?...Good….Yeah she’s here, she’s upstairs sleeping. I know, I’m not gonna let her go. Hey listen I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me today, just us?”

You can’t help the big smile that spreads across your face. Maybe Ransom was changing after all.

All Cevans characters taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​

[theright-sideofme]

The Healer. Kang Yeosang

Prince Yeosang x healer fem!reader WC: 2.6k Warnings: Mentions of death and violence

10 years ago

     The forest surrounding the castle was off limits to prince Yeosang. His father had warned him about the dangers in the forest: Thieves and barbarians, werewolves and vampires, and worst of all, witches. Yeosang had promised his father he would never enter the forest alone under any circumstances. However, teenage rebellion was a right of passage, and after the fight he had gotten into with his father today, the only thing on his mind was braving the forest alone. So without thinking, he ran, he ran out of the great hall and through the castle garden, he ran straight into the forest, where he continued to run until he stumbled upon a little white cottage. What was a quaint little cottage doing here?

     The cottage door swung open and Yeosang froze. A girl around his age came bouncing out of it, the large smile on her face dropping as soon as she saw Yeosang. Fear flashed across in her eyes right before they started welling up with tears, she was afraid of him? “I’m not going to hurt you” Yeosang reassured, slowly holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. “Who are you” she asked as bravely as she could. “I’m Yeosang, and you are” “... Y/n” “it’s nice to meet you Y/n. May I ask why you’re out here” Y/n looked at him as if he had asked the stupidest question ever, “I could ask you the same thing” she shot back defensively. It was not going to be easy to get her to warm up to him. “Well, I’m just out on a stroll” he shrugged gently with a smile. She raised her brow at him, skeptical. “I live here.”

Present

     “Y/n, I got that herb you were talking about” Yeosang announces as he lets himself into the familiar cottage. “Angelica” Y/n asked, jumping off her latter to make her way over to Yeosang. “I’m pretty sure that’s the one” Yeosang handed Y/n the bag and watched as her face lit up, “Yeosang, you absolute angel” she squealed, hugging him tightly before running off to ground it up. “What’s this for anyways” “a mother in the village needs something for her sick son and the healer’s trying to charge her an arm and a leg for it.” Yeosang hummed in response. Y/n was a kind soul, she just couldn’t say no to helping people. When they first met, despite Y/n’s apprehensions, she gave him a warm meal and a place to stay for the night (It was too dark to walk home in the dark) before helping him find his way back.

     “You know the castle could use a new healer” he said, “ your father would hang me for witchcraft before hiring me to be the castles healer.” Yeosang sighed, she was right of course, women weren’t allowed to be healers, at least not in this kingdom. Yeosang still couldn’t help but ask, as much as he liked the time he gets away from the castle when he comes to visit, he started to realize something as he got older; seeing her once every two weeks wasn’t enough, he wanted to see her everyday. 

     Yeosang watched her work in her little kitchen, asking questions so he could understand what she was doing. She patiently answered every question, even showing him exactly how everything was done.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t like his company. At first she was apprehensive of him, thinking he was another witch hunter, she thought he was going to kill her how the last ones killed her parents. But he was kind and showed her he wasn’t a threat.

*Flash Back*

     “You’re back” Y/n said in surprise as she watch Yeosang walk up to her small little cottage with a basket in his hand. “I told you I would be” he said simply with a large smile on his face. Once he reach Y/n he held out the basket, earning a weird look from the girl, “it’s a gift, for helping me, open it.” Y/n couldn’t keep the smile off her face, a gift? Opening up the hatch, Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed together as she pulled out a small white box. She looked up at Yeosang who just nodded to her, telling her to open it. So she did, “Yeosang-” she looked up at him with a bright smile, he’d remembered.

“A pumpkin pastry, they may not be as good as your mother's, but I figured it was worth a shot.” It had been a late night discussion during his first visit here, she had told him about the pumpkin pastries her mother used to make, and how much she missed them. Never did she think he would remember something a silly and small as that. Carefully placing the pastry back into the basket, Y/n latched herself onto him. “Thank you” she giggled into his chest, sending butterflies straight to Yeosang’s stomach. “I-it’s just a pastry, don’t thank me” “but-” “it’s fine Y/n” he laughed, pulling away to see her still smiling brightly. “Well what are you waiting for, go on, eat.”

*End of Flashback*

     Y/n smiled at the memory as she carefully bottled up the medicine and gently placed it in her bag, alongside a loaf of bread and some berries. “All that for a sick child?” “No, the loaf’s for Hongjoong, he promised me a bowl of his mothers onion soup if I brought him some rosemary bread.” Nodding, Yeosang helped her into her coat after she slipped on her shoes. “Why don’t I come with you, I haven’t been to the village in ages” “and what would people say if they saw me wondering around town with the prince” “I’ll be sneaky” he joked as he wrapped her scarf around his head. The small laugh that left her lips caused him to smile, he quite liked her laugh, and he definitely liked being the cause of it. “You can come on one condition” “anything” “you have to bring me a pumpkin pasty next time you come to visit” “easy enough, now come on, let’s go.” Y/n laughed as he dragged her out of her home, eager to get to the village.

-----

     Yeosang looked around the village with wide eyes, it had changed quite a bit since he had last been here as a boy. There were many more buildings and even more street stalls. The smell of freshly cook pork nearly dragged him away from Y/n’s side. He never understood why his father hated coming to the village, it was so much more lively than the castle: children ran through the streets, people conversing and laughing, everyone, young and old dancing in the village square. Yeosang wished he could live a life like this. 

     “Yeosang, come on, I don’t need you getting lost” Y/n sighed as she tugged on his sleeve. Yeosang just looked down at her with the brightest smile, and she could’ve sworn her heart jumped. “This place is amazing!” Y/n stared at him, admiring his childlike happiness and the sparkle in his eye. She found herself entranced by his beauty just like she had countless time before, and each time she was left breathless.

She took in a deep breath and smiled, “I know your excited, how about this, you go get something to eat from one of the stalls while I drop this off, and we’ll meet in the village square in 10 minutes?” Yeosang shook his head, catching her off guard, she was sure he would want to explore on his own a bit. 

     “I want to stay with you” just when she thought he couldn’t prod his way any further into her heart, he goes and says something like that. “Okay then, come on.” Yeosang grabbed her head and gestured for her to lead the way, and she did, quickly turning away to hide the blush on her face as she lead him to the house.

     As they were walking towards the house, Y/n noticed some palace guards making their way into town. The atmosphere had changed almost instantly, everyone quieted down, the music stopped, and the children quickly disappeared. Y/n quickly pulled up her hood and encouraged Yeosang to do the same. 

     Yeosang had noticed the shift as well, it was impossible not to. He wonder why everything had changed so fast. Was it the guards? It couldn’t have been. Oh how naïve he was.

      The head guard made his way over to a old man, they whispered amongst themselves for a few seconds and the air only seemed to get thicker. Y/n’s grip tightened around Yeosang’s hand as she tried to get him to hurry. 

     “What’s going on” Yeosang asked quietly as he quickened his strides to keep up with Y/n. “Weekly inspection” the dreaded part of every villagers week. Y/n had only been in the village once during an inspection, and she did not like it one bit. She made an effort to avoid the weekly inspections, but unfortunately, they were random. The guards would come down to the village and ransack houses and shops, anything ‘incriminating’ would get confiscated and anyone could get arrested for anything.

     Yeosang turned to look at the guards once more, only to see them throwing the old man off his patio. “Hey-” Yeosang was quickly shut up by Y/n yanking his down to her height. “Don’t, please” she practically begged in a small voice. “They’re hurting him” “They hurt everyone, we can’t stop them, please Yeosang” “I can-” “You can what? If they find out your here you’ll never be allowed to leave the palace again” “I can't just let these people get hurt” Y/n took a deep breath and looked up at him, her heart beating out of control the longer she stood where anyone could see. “Then at least wait for me to be gone” “what?” “Please.” He looked down at her and the tears in her eyes- she was scared, she was scared of his men- no, his father’s men. He was going to fix this, but first- “go, quickly.” Y/n thanked him quietly before running down the street and quickly disappearing down a alley.

     Once Y/n was out of sight, Yeosang ran over to the guards who were now restraining a mother to keep her from the guards who were taking her child. “Stop!” Yeosang commanded in such a deep voice that everyone froze. The guards looked over, wondering who in their right mind would talk to them like that. 

“P-Prince Yeosang” “let them go.” The guards stood frozen, allowing the mother and child free. “What- does you’re father know your here” “does my father know you beat on innocent towns people” “he does actually, we’re simply acting on his orders.” What? His father ordered this? His felt repulsed, how could anyone be so cruel? Shaking his thoughts away, he walked over to the guards “We’re leaving, now” “yes sir.” All the guards mounted their horse, one guard giving up his horse for Yeosang. And as he rode out of the village with thoughts of what he would say to his father. All of his thoughts were interrupted when a poster with a familiar face on it caught his eye.

      Wanted: Y/n Y/l/n for the charges of witchcraft and heresy of the crown.

     Now he understood.

-----

     When Yeosang returned to the palace, his father was furious. He yelled at him for being irresponsible, for interfering with his direct orders, and he forbade him from ever leaving the castle again. 

     “You were having innocent people beaten for taxes?!” “You have no right to question me” “I have every right to question you! You want me to be king, to rule in your footsteps, well I won’t! I won’t be another tyrant” “you watch your mouth boy” “or what, you’ll have me beaten to” “don’t tempt me.”

     As the two men continued to scream at each other, the doors to the great hall were opened. “What is the meaning of this, can’t you see I’m speaking with my son” the king spat at his guards. “Yes your majesty, and we’re deeply sorry, but we found someone trying to escape during the inspection and we thought you would like to know who it is.” Yeosang felt his whole body tense up, his mind wandering to one place- well person-Y/n. “Why would I care about some commoner trying to run-” “It’s her your majesty.” The king’s mood seemed to instantly change as a cheshire like grin spread across his face. Yeosang, however, felt horrible, her? Who’s her? He felt like he could throw up any moment. “Bring her to me” “yes sir.” Yeosang’s whole body was on edge as he waited for the guards- God why were they taking so long!

     Everything felt like it was set to 100. The sound of foot step accompanied by the clanging of metal armor rung in Yeosang’s ears. Finally, a figure appeared at the door. He wanted to look, every nerve in his body was screaming at him to look, but he couldn’t. What if it was her? What could he do? He didn’t want to look and see her terrified face, not again, not when there was nothing he could do to help her.

     “Y/n Y/l/n-” No. Yeosang’s head snapped up, his eyes immediately landing on her glossy, red eyes. “-you have been a tough one have you?” Silence hung in the air like a swinging blade. Y/n stared at the floor, taking in a deep breath as she prepared herself to speak. “I’ll tell you as I told your men, I’m a healer, not a witch.” The king let out a hearty chuckle, a chuckle that let Y/n knew that there was no hope for her life. She blinked slowly as she tried to accept her fate, the tears that had welled up in her eyes now falling down her cheeks effortlessly. One after another they fell from her face and onto the cold, hard ground. 

“Take her to the dungeons, she’ll be the villages entertainment for tomorrow” “No.” Yeosang spoke before he could think. He couldn’t help it, watching her stand there so hopeless and then hearing her father talk about her as if she was some play thing for his amusement- he never felt such anger before. 

     “No? No! Don’t you question me boy! If I say she’ll hang, she’ll hang!” “No! What proof do have to convict her of any crime” “Boy are you dense! I’m the king, that’s all I need to convict someone- Take her away, Now!.” The guard yanked her by her arms and Yeosang felt the urge to run and punch them for being so rough with her. How dare they? Yeosang turned to his father, his face red and his breathing heavy as this burning anger ravaged his body “If you kill her, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise” and with that, he stormed out of the throne room.

-----

     “Y/n? Y/n are you down here” “I’m here” Y/n called out as she made her way over to the cell bars. Yeosang was quick to meet her there, their hands locking through to gaps of the bars. “Are you okay? Have they hurt you?” “I’m okay” “are you sure” “yes Yeosang, I’m sure” she said as she smiled sweetly at him.

     After being overwhelmed by everything today, Yeosang finally felt safe enough to let it all out. Hot tears fell from his eyes as a sob wracked his body. Why was his father so cruel? Why was she being punished for it? Why did he feel so helpless? Y/n squeezed his hand tighter, wishing that this bars would evaporate and she could pull him into her arms.

      She knew her time on this Earth was coming to an end, but her mother always taught her to have hope. She wondered what good hope was in a situation like this? But when she looked at Yeosang, she couldn’t help but have hope, he was her best friend, she couldn’t leave him, not like this.

     “Hey, don’t cry, you act like I’m dying” Yeosang looked up, obviously not amused by her joke. “I’m serious, I’m not leaving you” “good, because I wasn’t going to let you.” Y/n smiled as he seemed to calm down a little, his breathing slowly returning back to normal as the tears slowed down. 

     Yeosang stared at her, admiring every bit of her as if he would never see her again, he was totally and utterly in love. He finally admitted it to himself, he was in love with Y/n Y/l/n. A weight felt as if it had been lifted as a small chuckle left his lips. “Y/n” “yes” she asked, a bit confused by the sudden change in his demeanor. “I love you.” As shocked as she wanted to be, she wasn’t, because deep down, she already knew. “I love you too” she mumbled quietly as her head rested against the bars. A sigh of relief left his lips as he tightened his grip on her hands, “promise me you’ll stay alive” “Yeosang-” “promise me” and she did, she promised that she would stay alive, despite knowing she may never see him again after tonight.

[omg-just-peachy]

hi!!! i love your work so much <33 i was wondering if you’d do 18 from the autumn prompts for stevetony? :)

18 / Wearing long scarves to keep warm.

This time of year a town near me usually has a book festival, but with everything going on, it isn’t happening this year (at least not that I know of) so what about an AU where Steve is a popular author and they go to a book festival...

no powers au, 900w, fluff

***

“I can’t believe you haven’t been spotted yet,” Tony says in Steve’s ear, wrapping an arm around his waist as they walk. 

Steve laughs and ducks his head. “I’m a writer, Tony, not a movie star,” he says, like he’s not the author of one of the most popular young adult series on the market right now. It happened often enough, Steve getting pointed out in a restaurant, at the movies, even the grocery store depending on the time of day, and it’s comical to think that here, surrounded by readers, it won’t happen. 

They’re at a community book festival in Brooklyn, Steve’s old stomping grounds, and it’s the kind of perfect fall day that’s just cool enough to need an extra layer or two. Brightly colored leaves crunch beneath their feet, and the air just smells like fall, all dusty leaves and pumpkin spice and warm buttery popcorn from one of the many food trucks lining the streets. Tony’s pretty sure he’s not imagining that used book smell emanating from the tents, either.

“It probably helps that you’re incognito, Mr. Rogers,” Tony says, gesturing to the sunglasses Steve’s wearing. 

“It’s bright out here!” 

“Hey, I’m not complaining, they look good. I don’t mind being the arm candy for my famous soon to be husband,” Tony says, lifting his eyebrows suggestively. 

Steve laughs, the bright, loud sound carrying enough to draw attention from a group of nearby girls who look up and start whispering among themselves almost immediately. 

“It’s starting,” Tony says, nudging Steve in the ribs. 

“Shh, no it’s—”

“Excuse me, are you Steve Rogers? Like, from the Firelight series?” One of the girls says shyly, appearing in front of them like magic, her friends hanging back in awed silence.

“That would be me,” Steve says brightly, smiling at them. 

“Oh my god, would you you sign my book? Is this your boyfriend?” The girl looks horrified as soon as the words leave her mouth, and Tony has to bite back a laugh. 

“Soon to be husband,” Tony chimes in. “Tony Stark.” 

“I can sign that,” Steve says, face turning a little pink as he holds out a hand. “What’s your name? And... do you have a pen?” 

The girl tells them her name is Claire and she has a pen ready to go. Steve writes her a nice note, thanking her for reading, and then signs four more books for the rest of her group. 

When they leave, Tony tugs on Steve’s hand, smiling. “You were saying?” 

“That I appreciate my arm candy and soon to be husband very much,” Steve says, and shivers when a cold breeze sweeps through. Tony rubs Steve’s arm and hugs him closer, knows he gets cold easily despite his big, six-foot-two frame, and smiles when Steve leans in close as they keep walking to the authors’ tent. 

*

“You look chilly for someone who’s been surrounded by people for the better part of three hours,” Tony says later, after Steve’s done a reading from his most recent release, signed countless copies of his books, and offered teasers from the next book in the series. 

Steve shivers in response, nodding. “I swear it got colder out here while I was in there,” he says. His nose is pink from the temperature change, and Tony can’t help but press a kiss to it when he sniffles a few times. 

“It did,” Tony agrees. “Here,” he says, unwinding the dark blue knit scarf around his neck and wrapping it around Steve before he can protest. “You need this more than I do.”

The scarf looks good on him, bringing out the deep blue in his eyes and making his blond hair shine, but then again, Tony thinks most things look great on Steve. 

“I don’t need this,” Steve says, though he already looks warmer, his face tucked into the warmth of it, and Tony shakes his head.

“You do,” Tony says, kissing his cheek. “You’re frozen, Mr. Rogers, and we can’t have you catching frostbite with so many of your adoring fans around,” he teases, delighting in the way Steve ducks his head, like he still can’t believe his own luck. 

“Thanks, Tony. Should we stop somewhere for dinner on the way home? I’m starving,” he says.

“Then we should stop. I have just the place,” Tony says. “But first...” He tugs on the scarf, using it to pull Steve to him until he’s good and close and kisses him until he’s well and truly blushing in the light of the Brooklyn sunset, the crowd starting to thin out around them. 

Steve blinks at him for a moment, like he has to get his bearings again after a kiss like that, and then: “Did you give me this just so you could do that?” He asks, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. 

Tony pretends to be affronted. “I did it to keep you warm, Steven,” he says. “Now, come on, dinner is waiting.” He tugs the scarf again, and laughs at the hopelessly fond look on Steve’s face. 

[blazedgraysons]

You're No Good - Ch. 2

C.J. Bennett is an overly ambitious student who dreams of shadowing her favorite author, Eli Jennings. The only thing standing in her way: Grayson Dolan.

warnings: this is a rough draft of a series i never finished. i'm posting the finished chapters before leaving this account. 🤍

part 1

If American Lit 1102 was C.J.’s personal hell, her job could at least be considered her own reprieve.

Sunnyside Vintage is an old shop off of Sunset, having been open for the last 30 years. It wasn’t the nicest of thrift stores — the clothes always have a weird mothball smell and everything is old - and not in the trendy way.  C.J. loves it. The windows are huge, letting California sunlight wash the stucco walls gold, and the mannequins are always dressed straight out of the 70’s. The pay isn’t always great, but C.J. is allowed to take whatever she wants more than makes up for it in her eyes.

“I just don’t understand. I mean, Stevens has praised me this entire semester. She even told me personally he’s never had a student write as well as me nor pick up on the work as fast as I have. Wouldn’t that be qualities you’d want in an intern, Bea? Even Grayson Dolan would’ve been a better pick.” C.J. turns to her boss, angrily folding flared jeans.

Another reason C.J. loves Sunnyside —  her boss, Beatrice “Bea” Walker. Once a glitzy soap star of the ’50’s, she retired with her husband and opened Sunnyside in the late 80’s. Despite being in her late-70s, she still holds on to the same glamour and charm that made her a household name a century prior.

“Maybe there was another reason. It could be something other then your application.” She croaks, lifting a pumpkin to place next to a costumed mannequin. As halloween rapidly approaches, the store was starting to transform to fit the fall season — hoping to draw in customers to purchase unique costumes for the holiday.

Before she can move to help Bea, the doors chime, signaling an entrance. Walking through with seemingly-glowing skin and a symphonic smile was Alexi, C.J.’s best friend and roommate. It’s hard to miss Alexi whenever she walks into a room — from her bleached-blue hair to eclectic style, she’s never been afraid to follow her own path, something C.J. has always admired. She walks straight to C.J., wrapping her in a loving embrace

“Are you okay? James told me what happened.” Alexi leaves an arm around her, and while C.J. knows it’s supposed to be comforting; all she can think about is how much she wants Alexi to leave. It’s one thing to rant to her elderly boss, someone who would love her in spite of her shortcomings and faults. But to know her own friend group has already heard about her misfortune, sending over someone to comfort and soothe, it was all just a little too pitiful for her to handle.

“Theta’s are throwing a party tonight. It’ll be the perfect pick-me-up, and you can forget all about Evans Jensen-“

“Eli Jennings” C.J. corrects.

“Whoever” Alexi rolls her eyes at the interruption, “is missing out on your incredible talent because of an idiotic professor’s incompetence. Everyone’s going and it won’t be the same without you, C.”

“As much as I would love that, Lex, I really just want to be alone tonight. Shitty beer, cheap Indian food, a sad movie so I don’t have to think about how these past four years have been a waste.”

“Not a waste, first of all. Look, I know that you’ve had this whole plan for your life since you popped out the womb, but shit happens, things change. This isn’t a failure, just think of it as a temporary setback. Plus, when life gives you lemons, you…” She trails off, waiting for C.J. to finish.

“Make lemonade?” She sighs.

“Use it to chase tequila.” Alexi giggles.

“I would go, but I have to close. Right, Bea?"

"Don't use me as an excuse. You should go, maybe find a boy to take home." Alexi makes a face at Beatrice's statement and C.J.'s face heats up.

“You’re going - no more buts. Wear something cute. Something that maybe doesn’t make if look like you were alive for Vietnam.” Alexi’s already leaving, kissing Beatrice lightly on the cheek on her way out.

This was how C.J. found herself standing outside the Theta Lambda  frat house, October air chilling her through her jacket. She shifts her weight between her feet, surveying the small group around her. Alexi talks animatedly on the phone, asking for whoever to meet them out front.

A random person bumps into her, forcing her to spill the contents of her purse onto the dewey grass. C.J. groans, bending down to pick everything up while mentally thinking to herself all of the other things she could be doing right now.

A pair of dirty air forces steps in front of C.J. and she slowly looks up at the girl standing in front of her. She’s pretty, stunning actually. C.J. recognizes her immediately. Channing Williams - social chair of Rho Xi sorority and the key to all the best parties on campus. Dressed in a black romper and red velvet jacket, she’s everything C.J. isn’t and a quiet twinge of jealousy plucks her heart. ‘I bet she’s never lost out on an internship.’ she thinks bitterly.

“Sorry, do you know anyone?”  Channing asks, voice soft and sweet with a clipboard in hand. C.J. looks at Alexi, waiting to hear her answer.

“Not really? I mean we know people, but we aren’t going to be on your clipboard or anything so if you could just let us slide through, I’m sure there’s someone here who could like vouch for us or something?” C.J. wants to slap her — not only did she drag her out in below-freezing weather, but she couldn’t even guarantee them a way inside.

“Well this is a greek-only party so unless you know anyone….” Channing trails off, not openly wanting to kick them out in front of so many people.

“That means no GDI’s.” C.J. didn’t even notice the miniature-sized freshman standing besides Channing. She clearly looks annoyed at the intrusion, keeping her from inside where everyone else is to deal with their little group. C.J. briefly wonders if the upturned stare is a requirement for Rho Xi or if that’s was just especially reserved for her.

“Geed’s?” Alexi repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“Goddamn independents. Y’know, not greek-affiliated.” At this point, C.J. is ready to call the whole night and retire in her bed when she see’s someone appear in between Channing.

“They’re cool, Chan. They’re with me.” Micayla Zhao enters, covered in glitter, sweat and what C.J. is almost sure to be a line of salt from a body shot. C.J. has always considered Micayla the only cool Rho Xi, having had multiple classes with her over the years. Micayla fit right in with their group: smart, beautiful and a wicked sense of humor.

Channing nods, seeming bored and just wanting to get back inside with everyone else. She does a quick finger tap with Micayla (sacred Rho Xi bullshit is what Alexi always calls it) and moving along the line.

“Are your sisters always that charming?” Micayla rolls her eyes, grabbing C.J. to move them through the house to the backyard. A huge bonfire is set up in the middle with a canopy near by for the designated drinking spot. She watches as Micayla confidently moves through the crowd, stopping from time to time to say hey to friends and classmates on the way.

“Most of the time. Look, they’re just possessive over tradition and the Rho-Theta party has always been major exclusive, Channing’s been fighting to make it open to outsiders.” Micayla yells over the thumping bass.

“Yeah, I’m sure they love all the GDI’s.”  C.J. exaggerates her voice, pinching her nose to capture the nasally, valley accent Channing is almost famous for. Micayla stops, and had C.J. not been paying attention, she would’ve ran into her.

“Dude, you’re kind of being a bitch right now. Look, I get your bummed about your internship, but Channing wouldn't have let you in if she didn't want to. Would you rather be getting drunk, in your apartment alone?”

“Yeah, actually.” Micayla stares at C.J. for a second, looking like she’s about to bitch her out. As if Alexi can sense the fight forming, she grabs Micayla by the arm.

“Let’s go get a drink, you look like you need a drink in you.” They both walk towards the house, Alexi mouthing ‘Be Nice’ over her shoulder before disappearing completely. C.J. exhales, counting to 3 in her head before walking over to where drinks are set up.She fills up her solo cup, watching as the fizzy liquid moves closer and closer to the top.  Before she can take a sip, someone bumps into her spilling half the drink over the side.

“Hey, watch it!” A thick Jersey accent exclaims, and C.J. groans, wondering if this night could get any worse.

“Bennett?”

Grayson appears in front of her, denim jacket over a black t-shirt and black jeans. She takes note of the dark spot growing on the front of his shirt, from where she spilt her drink.

“What’re you doing here?”

She simply shrugs, refilling the missing contents of her cup.“I didn’t know parties were your scene. I always imagined in your free time you’re in like a dark room, crying alone to Sylvia Plath novels.”

“Nice to know you think of me out of class, Grayson” C.J. takes a sip of her beer. She moves to walk away, hoping he would take it as an end of conversation.

"How'd you get in? Isn't this like Rho's only?" He asks, following her to the edge of the bonfire. She looks at him, watching as the light frames the features of his face.

"Couldn't I say the same about you? You're not a Theta." He just stares at her intensely until she relents, "Micayla Zhao got me in. Y'know her?"

"We had history together sophomore year. She helped me cheat on the midterms."

C.J. laughs shortly. "Sounds like her."

Grayson opens his mouth to speak again, but is cut off.

“As much as I’m enjoying this conversation, Grayson, don’t you have someone else to bother? Someone who, y’know, actually likes you?” If that comment bothered him, he didn’t show it, continuing talking to her as if they haven’t pissed each other off continuously for the past four years.

“What do you think about Michael Eichler getting the internship spot?”  He asks. As if it wasn’t bad enough that she didn’t get the spot, now she has to sit and rub salt in the wound with her worst enemy.

“What’s there to think about? He got it, I didn’t. Fucking sucks.” He laughs, holding up his own drink.

“Cheers to that.” They both clink cups, and C.J. briefly wonders if the universe is still laughing at her.

"You know, that spot should've gone to one of us." He muses, watching the partygoers continue to stumble around them. He doesn't say anything after that, and she bites.

"Why should it have gone to one of us?"

"Well, think about it. We're both the top of our class, and I know for a fact Stevens has submitted your writing to collegiate magazines. There's no fucking way Michael fucking Eichler should've got that spot over one of us." C.J. pauses. She had known that Stevens appreciated her writing, but not enough to submit it anywhere. If what Grayson was saying was true, why hadn't she gotten the apprenticeship?

"Nothing I can really do about it now. He got the spot, I didn't. I guess I can become a second rate author now." She takes another sip, and Grayson snorts unattractively.

"I'm sure you'll be okay, Bennett. If Stevens like you, I'm sure there's another author dumb enough to want to publish your work too." She glares at him.

"And here I thought we were becoming friends."

"As if you actually would've wanted to become friends with me."

"Oh yeah, that's what I do in between my Sylvia Plath crying sessions. Desperately wish that Grayson Dolan would become my best friend." Sarcasm drips off every word and he looks at her before taking another long sip of his drink.

“You know you’re actually kinda cool, Bennett. When you’re not trying to bite my head off in the middle of lecture”

“Maybe if you didn’t have such shitty takes, I wouldn’t want too.” Whatever retort Grayson was planning falls from his lips when Channing appears by his side, tucking herself underneath his arm.

"Hey, Gray. I got you another drink." Two Coronas hang from her manicured hand, and he whispers inaudibly to her, giggling between the two of them. C.J. begins to feel awkward, and coughs uncomfortably.

“Oh, you’re the GDI from earlier,” Channing looks up at her half-lidded, dark eyelashes framing red-tinged brown eyes.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Channing shifts her weight, biting her lip and feeling like an intruder. "I didn't know you two knew each other?" C.J. supplies, feeling desperate for conversation

"Gray and I had math together freshman year, "They both stare at each other awkwardly, silent tension as they wait for the other to speak.

“So, I’m gonna go." She speaks.

“No, you don’t have to." Channing is already turned back to Grayson, looking like she wouldn't mind C.J.'s exit.

“No it’s fine” Neither Grayson nor Channing seem to protest anymore, and C.J. turns back to see her friends looking at her, both amused and curious at her interaction with the duo. She begins to walk towards them, feet and heart sinking with every step, not feeling any better about her current predicament.

“Hey Bennett,” She turns around to face Grayson. “Think about what I said. About the internship stuff” She just nods, and leaves the pair. The moment she reaches her initial group, Alexi pulls her towards them.

“You and Dolan were just talking and it didn't end in a screaming match. That’s new. What did he want?”

“Nothing. Just typical Grayson Dolan bullshit."Alexi looks like she doesn't believe her, and frankly C.J. doesn't believe herself. She thinks back to what Grayson said, about how they were the only real competition for the apprenticeship. Whatever he meant by that could be handled tomorrow.

"C’mon. Didn’t  you say something earlier today about tequila shots?” She asks

“Atta, girl. That’s what I’m talking about.” She lets Alexi drag her away, sparing one last look at Grayson before entering the fraternity house.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 11:  A Turkey Called Marv

Summary: Nat, Clint, Evans, Lawson and the rest of her SHIELD team throw Katie a leaving party once news of her resignation spreads across the Triskellion before Katie and Steve head to New York to spend their first Thanksgiving as a couple with Tony, Pepper and Bruce.

Paring: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: None for this chap, bar a bit of bad language and teeth rotting fluff

A/N: Accompanying One Shot- The Life Of Marv. 

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 10

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

November 2013

News of Katie’s spectacular resignation spread like wildfire through the Triskellion. Evans, Lawson, Natasha and Clint had all been pretty upset but had understood when she had explained why she was doing it, even if Natasha didn’t necessarily agree. They had no intention of letting her go quietly, however, and the team took it upon themselves to organise a small Leaving do at Lori’s which was in full swing. Background music was playing, food had arrived and the drinks were flowing. Steve was talking to Lawson, Rumlow and Evans by the bar, leaning against it, an easy smile on his face as Katie stood with Clint and Natasha a bit further down the bar as Clint was talking to them about his latest home improvement plan.  

“So I thought about putting in a pool.” Clint mused, “Now the kids are bigger I thought it might be nice to have one. Maybe even a pool house round it for bad weather.”

“How ambitious.” Nat quirked an eyebrow.

Clint grinned. “That’s my middle name.”

“Really?” Katie asked. “I always thought it was Robert.”

“What?” Clint looked at her as Nat snorted out a laugh.  "Francis.  Why would you think its Robert?“

Katie shrugged "You look like a Bob.”

“Wait… so it’s not Ambitious?” Nat asked, winking at Katie. “How boring.”

Katie nodded, draining her glass.  "Bob would have been better.”

"Right,” Clint started, pulling himself taller. “I hate both of you.”

The girls laughed and Nat turned to Katie. “So what’s in the pipeline for you now Nova?” “I have no idea.” Katie shrugged and she didn’t. “I guess I’ll just get more involved in the family business.”

“You gonna move to New York?” Clint asked. She shook her head. “Probably spend a bit more time there but, I’m not moving back.”

“Nah, she can’t leave lover boy.” Natasha looked at Clint and Katie rolled her eyes. Truth is Nat had hit the nail on the head. No way was she leaving Steve in DC to move back to the tower. Although they had only been together seven months she had spent over a year of her life being ‘with him’ one way or another and the thought of him not being there terrified her.

“You know, to be fair Nat, they’ve been going out a while now. Things are probably starting to cool off.” Clint teased “Oh trust me, there’s no problems in that department.” Katie sniggered, looking over to where Steve was stood.

“And would you look at that. I’m out of alcohol…” Nat said, suddenly “And so is Stark.”

“There’s a bar over there,” Clint pointed

“Cheers…”Natasha took Katie’s glass and handed it to him along with her own. Clint shook his head taking the glasses with a sigh.

“So… now he’s gone…” Nat glanced over at Steve then back to Katie “Gimme details…”

“Details on what?”

“Throw me a bone here Stark. I’m working on a dry spell.”

“Why are you so obsessed with my sex life?” Katie groaned. “You’re constantly trying to get me to talk about it.”

“Hey, look, up until a few months ago I was convinced he was a virgin.”

“Well then you’re a dumbass.” Katie smirked “Like I said, he’s Captain America, had girls throwing themselves at him back in the day.” “So he was until the serum?”

“I never said that.” Katie flushed.

“You’re such a shit liar.”

“Can we change the subject?”

“Ok, answer me one question and then I’ll drop it.” Nat pressed.

“What?” Katie snapped with an air of playful frustration. If she was honest, it was quite nice to have a girlfriend to chat to about these kind of secrets.

“Did the serum enhance…everything?” Nat wiggled her eyebrows.

Katie glanced over at Steve and smirked before she looked back at her. Fuck it.

“Well if it didn’t, I’ve no idea how he managed to stay upright before.” she smirked "I’m a lucky woman”

The red head threw back her head in a dirty laugh, a laugh that Katie had never heard from her before and it made her snigger at the sight of the normally composed assassin letting loose.

“What I miss?” Clint asked as he reappeared, handing them their drinks.

“I’ll explain when you’re older…” Nat said, patting his chest fondly.

*****

The next two weeks flashed by and before they knew it, it was the morning before thanksgiving and they were at the Tower in New York. Last year Katie and Steve had spent Thanksgiving as friends. This year they were spending it as lovers, and Katie was also excited to be spending it with Tony, although she would never admit that out loud.

Steve was also looking forward to it as well. Tony had mellowed to him somewhat over the past few months, especially when he had found out Steve was supporting Katie’s decision to quit SHIELD and not trying to stop her as he had original thought the Captain would. He was also looking forward to Katie’s damned fine cooking as well. Despite the fact that Tony had offered to cater in as Pepper was away until the very last minute, his girl had insisted on cooking it herself, especially now she had plenty of time on her hands.  

As such, Steve and Tony had left her in the kitchen area of the main living quarters at midday to head down to the lab to discuss some further upgrades to the Tower. When they left Katie had been surrounded by bags of flour and ingredients, and when Steve returned he found her at just gone 5:30 surrounded by 3 pies (one apple, one pumpkin and one blackberry) pans of vegetables prepped ready for the and a turkey in the oven ready for JARVIS to turn on in the morning. She was stood at the sink, gently humming, the kitchen now clean and the smell of her baking making his mouth water.

“What are you doing Soldier?” Katie asked, jumping a little as Steve’s arms came around her sides, reaching for the sink, effectively trapping her between the counter and his body.

He laid his chin on her shoulder. “The dishes,”

“I’m only leaving the pie dish to soak.” She informed him, turning her head to give him a quick kiss. “The rest are going in the Dishwasher.”

“Oh because God forbid her majesty would actually wash a dish.” He teased and she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t wash them much either. How many brushes did you break last week?”

“The plastic is bad quality.” Steve pouted.

“Nothing to do with your ridiculously large hands being too rough.” “You weren’t complaining last night.” He grinned, lips warm against her neck as he gently nipped under her ear. Katie squirmed a little and then swatted him in the face with the dishtowel, and he laughed out loud.

“Seriously though Doll face, are you nearly done? You’ve been in here all afternoon. You do know we’re not eating till 3 tomorrow, right?” His hands squeezed her hips and she tossed the dishcloth down and turned to face him, her hands sliding up his chest to his shoulders.

“Yeah but the more I do now, the less I have to do tomorrow, and let’s face it, it’s not like I have anything else to do, on account of being an unemployed bum.” She shrugged making Steve laugh again.  “Plus, I just want everything to be, you know…right.” she shrugged, and she did.

“It’s a dinner.”

“It’s Thanksgiving” She corrected him.

“Yeah, and last years was pretty cool, remember?”

“Yeah but…” she trailed off, biting her lip. Steve knew that look well enough now to know there was more to this.

“What?” He probed gently.

“Nothing, just, well I never had a boyfriend over for Thanksgiving before. Or Christmas come to think of it.”

Steve smiled “I like being your first…” Katie grinned. The whole ‘I like being your first’ thing had started off by her saying it to Steve but they’d fast come to realise that they actually both had a world of inexperience between them when it came to relationships, and it was nice that they could be each other’s firsts in a lot of ways.  “Honey, tomorrow is gonna be great.” He assured, tipping her face up to look at his “Don’t sweat it.”

“Did you seriously just say don’t sweat it?” she sniggered.

Steve groaned “I told you I spent the afternoon with your brother…”

She giggled and leaned up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“Getting kinda tired of catching you two making out in a kitchen!” Tony chose that time to waltz in and open the fridge door, pointing to them as he did so. “You got your own floor, piss off and go use it.” ******

Katie woke the next morning to find Steve’s side of the bed empty and cold. It wasn’t unusual for him to be up earlier than her, she knew he would either be out running, in the gym or making coffee. She climbed out of bed and walked to the blinds of the bedroom, instructing JARVIS to open them, the AI being one of the many perks about being 'home’. The New York skyline stretched below her and as she glanced down she saw the people gathered on the sidewalks, attention turned to the streets, obviously waiting for the Thanksgiving Parade. She had asked Steve if he wanted to go and watch it in person but he had said he would prefer to stay in and watch from the tower as he didn’t fancy getting mobbed in the street. Being recognised by one person every so often was fine but in those crowds if one person spotted him then it would spread like wildfire. Besides, as he had pointed out, her floor had an awesome view so they could watch out of the window with a drink. Katie frowned as suddenly a large brown turkey shaped balloon floated in front of her eyes. The parade wasn’t supposed to start until nine and that meant by the time it made its way to the Avengers tower it would be… she turned and glanced at the click and gave a yelp. She had slept in until Ten. 

Steve heard her before he saw her, not that he needed super hearing to hear the loud yell of "how fucking late?” coming from the bedroom. Grinning to himself he turned back to the griddle on the island of the kitchen, flipping a pancake with one hand and drinking a coffee with the other. “Why didn’t you wake me?” Katie grumbled to him as she leaned in the kitchen doorway, taking him in for a moment. He was freshly showered, dressed in a loose grey t-shirt and sweats, hair still a bit damp and spiked up in a way that made her smile. “Because you were up early yesterday and I thought I’d make you breakfast for a change.” He shrugged as she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face into the back of his shoulder. The smell of his shower gel mixed with the smell of the pancake mix, made her nuzzle her nose into him to inhale deeply. “You smell good.” She eventually spoke again. “Good to know.” A grin tugged at the corners of his lips at the fact she was still clinging to him. “I just saw a giant inflatable Turkey.” Her hands dropped and slid under his T-shirt, gently rubbing at his stomach. “What?” Steve paused. “The parade”

Steve smiled. “You know when I was a kid, the parade was the best part of Thanksgiving.” “Yeah?” she mumbled, her cheek still pressed to his shoulder.

“Yeah. Me and Bucky used to come into Manhattan with his family and my ma if she wasn’t working and stuff ourselves on popcorn and warm mixed nuts” He smiled to himself at the memory. They always picked out their favourite balloons, ate until they thought they would burst, and made Rebecca, Bucky’s younger sister laugh till she cried by pretending they were in the marching bands. But once the war started, the parade had ended. He had never realized that they started it up again until Tony and Katie had mentioned it last night as they had sat eating takeout. Part of him had wanted to go to the street to watch it but after seeing that morning how crowded it had been on his run he was happy to watch it from the comfort of Katie’s floor. He turned to face her for first time that day, her arms still round his waist. Her hair was pulled up into a pony tail, face fresh, eyes bright and she was, as ever, in one of his shirts and not a lot else. He leaned forward to give her a quick kiss and when he moved away, she quickly closed the space to give him another, letting her lips linger on his for a second. “I’ll burn the pancakes.” He murmured and she grinned, pulling away. “I’ll make fresh coffee.” She pat his chest and turned to the machine. “Hey JAR…Hit me with some Christmas tunes, buddy” “The usual Miss Stark?” “As long as it has the Pogues on…” “Wouldn’t dream of not doing” the AI replied and then the apartment was flooded with the sounds of ‘Fairy Tale of New York.’ “It’s November.” Steve turned to look at her, but she simply grinned to herself and turned around, singing to him. He couldn’t help but laugh, he knew from last year that Christmas for her started at Thanksgiving and ended on New Year’s Day. Plus the fact that the previous year she had spent Christmas day fighting a bunch of exploding super soldiers meant that she was going to enjoy this year as much as possible. He shook his head, a low chuckle escaping before he turned back to his pancakes. They dragged the cushions off the couch and ate breakfast sat by the huge floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, Katie sat between Steve’s legs as they both watched the parade. Suddenly, a large green balloon floated by the window and Katie gave a loud squeal when she saw what it was. A Hulk float. An amused smile spread across her lips as she watched the balloon bob in front of the window, twisting to the sides in the air as it wrestled with the wind. “Oh my God!” Katie giggled again, gently tapping Steve’s right calf but he had already spotted it. A massive shield was coming out, followed by Iron Man’s mask, Thor’s hammer, a bow and arrow, Natasha’s Red Widow symbol and her own Nova star. She turned to look at him, a little smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth and when he met her eyes the smile broke out across his features. Laughing in disbelief, he shook his head, turning his attention back look at the shield float bounce down the street. “That’s pretty cool.” He allowed himself a slightly smug and amazed sigh, and it was. If anyone had told him all those years ago that one day he would feature in the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade he would have told them that they were mad. Yet there it was. He found himself smiling as he thought about how his ma and Bucky would have reacted. When they had finished eating, Katie leaned back into him a little more, slouching so that her knees were bent and her feet rested on the bottom of the window. His arms reached round her neck, and he kissed the back of her head as they continued to watch the floats, the gentle sound of Bing Crosby “White Christmas” now playing through the room, the two of them simply enjoying the closeness of one another. ***** Eventually it was time to head downstairs and join Tony, Bruce and Pepper for their dinner. Katie and Pepper left the men to it and finished off the prep before calling them all to the table. As was tradition, as ‘head of the house’ Tony carved the turkey with his usual, trademark drama and they took it in turns to give a few things they were thankful for. Tony was thankful for his friends, family and a decent brand of scotch he had in the cupboard for later, Pepper was thankful for being so fortunate and being surrounded by people she loved, Bruce was thankful for being welcomed into their family home, not just for today but since he had taken up residency just after the Chitauri Battle, and Katie was thankful for being in the presence of people she cared for, and for the last year being so much better than the previous twelve months. She shot a wink at Steve as she said that and he beamed before he realised they were waiting for him.

 "Okay, well…” He cleared his throat. “I guess I’m thankful for being given a second chance, being welcomed by you all…and for, err, you.” He grinned at Katie who gave him a playful roll of the eyes but the flush on her cheeks told him she had understood.

“Awww.” Pepper smiled, as Tony made a gagging noise which resulted in Katie throwing a carrot at him. He pointed at her, frowning.

“No food fights on my floor, Kiddo.” He said sternly and she simply raised an eyebrow at him, taking a sip of her wine.

The food was good, not that anyone expected anything else. Both Tony and Banner managed two servings whilst Steve made it through three. And then there was the pie. Steve scoffed down a piece of each, whilst everyone else could only face one, but no one cared. And he found himself secretly pleased that there was enough left for him to scoff later on.

“I’m so glad I wore leggings.” Pepper sighted, leaning back and massaging her stomach.  

“Tell me about it.” Katie moaned. “I’m so glad this denims have an elasticated waist.” She pulled at the middle of her long maroon peplum style top. “Think I’m having a food baby.”

“Yeah, I gotta hand it to you Kiddo…” Tony leaned back in his chair, undoing the top button of his pants and massaging his stomach “That was absolutely awesome.“

Steve’s hand dropped to his girl’s leg under the table and he gave her knee a little squeeze as she reached for her wine glass, before he moving his arm to drop it round the back of her chair. "I certainly prefer the Turkey dead and cooked anyway” Tony added and Katie groaned. “Are you ever gonna let me live that down?” She looked at him. “No” he shook his head. “What’s this?” Steve asked, setting his glass down. “Did she not tell you about the time she brought home a live Turkey one year? Katie sighed as Steve sat up, turning to her, smirking "No…” “I was seventeen and going through a meat is murder phase.” She waved away the comment with her hands. “I was in the way home and saw him. He was the only one left in the farmyard so I liberated him” “By liberated she means stole.” Tony quipped, standing up to retrieve two more bottled of Rijoca from the wet bar as laughs rang round the table. “No one came looking for him.” She shrugged. “Marv lived a happy life for five years in our back garden” “Marv?” Bruce looked at her, a smile creeping across his face. “After the character from Home Alone.” She replied simply

“You had a turkey called Marv?” The scientist deadpanned and she nodded.

“He was a great pet. Used to chase Tony around” “The bird was a fucking menace.” Tony frowned, topping everyone’s glass up. Settling back into his chair, Katie noticed Pepper giving him a look and he started suddenly as if he was remembering something. He leaned forward and looked at Katie. "So I know we don’t do Thanksgiving gifts kiddo but I was thinking yesterday about something you said to me once, about having a vision for a publishing company.”

Katie stole a look at Steve who simply shrugged. It was true, when she had first graduated she had thought about setting up a publishing company, but one that dealt with unknown writers. Her favourite books in the world were the Harry Potter series and during her degree she had been lucky enough to attend a small seminar held by JK Rowling, who had openly discussed her life before becoming a famous author. She had been a single mother, struggling to make ends meet, and even after she had written the books it took her years to get a deal, being rejected by four different publishers before Bloomsbury (a small, independent group) took a chance on her and it paid off for both of them. Katie loved the rags to riches story and since then had always harboured a desire to do the same thing for other authors but it had never really been much more than a pipe dream.

“It was an idea I once had.” She shrugged, looking at Tony. “Then things went a bit crazy.” “Well… how about we make it a bit more than an idea?” Pepper said. “What?” Katie frowned, looking at Pepper, then he brother who nodded. “I want you to put a proper proposal together, business plan, mood and story board that type of thing.” He said, waving his hand in that Tony-esque manner “Then we’re gonna look at what we need to set it up and take it to the board. Run it as a Ltd company under the Parent company of Stark Industries, but you’ll be the Managing Director.” “I…, I can’t run a business!” She stammered. “Didn’t you run the UK branch of SI for a while?” Bruce looked at her, smiling. “That was different.” She pressed. “Why?” Steve asked. “Shut up Steven.” She shot without even looking at him.

There were a few chuckles round the table before Tony continued. “Look, you don’t need to work.” He shrugged. “You have enough capitol behind you plus the revenue from the business as it to live your life out as an IT girl,  but we both know you’ll end up killing someone if you get bored, and that’s likely to be Cap seeing as you see him most so this is for him as much as you.” “Thanks Tony.” Steve tipped his glass to the Inventor who winked. Katie pondered. It really had been a dream of hers since leaving Uni, putting her degree and passion into her work and she would be lying if she said the thought didn’t excite her but it was a hell of a big commitment, and what if it all failed?

“I’ll help you.” Pepper smiled at Katie who was biting her lip. "I’ll proof read the proposal and I’ll be there every step of the way whilst you set up.” She leaned back in her chair. "The week before Christmas there’s another board meeting. I suggest we use that to pitch the idea.” 

“I think this could be a great opportunity for you and Stark Industries.” Tony looked at Katie. “And you’ll get full autonomy over it all, I promise.” This was amazing. She looked at Steve who nodded encouragingly. “What is it you keep saying to me? You’ll never know until you try?” he smiled at her. She took a deep breath and looked around the table before throwing caution to the wind and letting out a huge grin. “Ok. Fuck it. Let’s do it.” **** After another half an hour or so of chatter, and a bottle of champagne to celebrate Katie’s agreement to the business idea, everyone chipped in to clear the table before retiring to the plush living area of Tony and Pepper’s floor for more drinks and chat. Then the alcohol really did began to flow, Steve and Tony moving onto the scotch,  the soldier watching as everyone around him descended into that well recognised drunken haze. And then out came ‘Drawing Without Dignity’, a game Steve had never played before which was really rather vulgar, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it. The game fast slid into chaos which was to be expected with an extremely competitive Super Soldier who had a natural advantage as he could actually draw, an equally competitive billionaire and a normally mild mannered scientist who also was quite cutthroat when it came to winning it turned out.

Pepper and Katie spent most of the time sniggering at the bickering men, and at the point when they were laughing that much when it was their go, the three boys got so frustrated they banned them from playing. For that, the next time Steve asked Katie what one of the more risqué sayings meant (he had cringed at a fair few of them over the course of the evening) she lied to sabotage him earning her a full on Captain glare. “That was a pretty shitty thing to do.” He grumbled at her as Tony and Bruce were both howling with laughter. “Not my fault Captain Badass doesn’t know what Rimming is!” Katie shot back, wiping away her tears. Steve had to bite back his own laugh at the ridiculous nickname, instead he fixed her with another glare which she returned with a simple shrug of her shoulders. The game ended, and Steve and Tony called it a draw, which was probably the easiest thing to do since Pepper had stopped taking count and tallying towards the end. It was now well after ten pm and Steve looked around the room as Tony stood up, a little unsteady on his feet, teetering back over to the bar.

“I think maybe we’ve had enough.” Pepper hiccupped slightly looked at Tony who had been reaching for another bottle of liquor, wheeled round slightly too fast causing him to stumble into the bar.

Katie cackled as Tony looked at Pepper “Shut up Mom.” he grabbed another bottle of scotch in one hand and the open bottle of Krug the girls were drinking in the other. He walked carefully over towards the sofa, as he dropped down into it heavily, handing the champagne to Katie who was on the floor in between Steve’s legs, her back resting against the sofa. She took it and poured herself and Pepper a glass, quite pleased that she didn’t spill any.

“You know he…he can’t get drunk!”  Tony handed Bruce a now full glass, pointing to Steve.

“That’s sad.” Bruce surmised, taking a sip of his drink before Tony sat bolt upright, and pointed at the scientist.

“Hey, I wonder if Hulk can get drunk?”

“That’s an…that’s an…ex…exper-expediment I don’t think we should do.” Bruce shook his head, hiccups punctuating his speech.

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head as Katie cackled.

“But it would be for science purposes.” Tony pressed

Bruce wrinkled his nose and shook his head “No Code Green.” “Spoil sport.” Tony sniffed

They stayed for another hour or so, until Pepper fell asleep. Katie’s cheeks were flushed pink and when she asked for a bottle of water Steve knew it was time to go. After asking Tony if he needed help clearing anything up, which he declined stating housekeeping would be in at some point tomorrow to deal with it, Steve stood up, surprised to find he actually felt a little bit of a head-rush. Ok, so maybe the three bottles of scotch they’d managed to go through had had a little effect after all, but he felt the fizziness ebbing away as he pulled Katie to her feet and she grinned up at him.

“Wanna carry me Soldier?” she asked.

He arched an eyebrow and in one swoop had her over his shoulder, causing her to shriek with laughter as she clutched at his navy blue cardigan jacket.

“Night!” She waved from her upside down position. Tony and Bruce waved distractedly from where they were now trying to mix some form of cocktail at the bar.

“You can put me down now.” Katie patted Steve on his back as they boarded the elevator. “Steve…”

He smirked to himself, ignoring her giggles and protests, swatting lightly at her ass, and didn’t put her down until they reached  the bedroom where he tossed her onto the bed and set about showing her exactly how thankful for her he was

******* If you want to read more about Marv the Turkey, check out the One shot: The Life Of Marv. As with all SSB One Shots, they don’t need to be read to understand the main story...consider them tasty little side dishes.

********

Chapter 12 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[beware-of-you-98]

Domestic JJ x Emily During the Fall

☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

Coincidentally, fall is both Emily and JJ’s favorite season

JJ likes how pretty DC looks during the fall

Her block is covered in trees with leaves of varying shades of orange, red and yellow

And the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, so the sidewalks are often covered in a liter of colorful leaves and bright pink petals

Emily likes fall simply because she can wear her suburban lesbian turtlenecks without people staring

(If she wears her turtlenecks in 90+ degree weather, that’s her business, okay?)

She likes the cool mornings and nights

She likes the whole fall aesthetic (something about the warm colors constantly around during the season makes everything seem oddly domestic and homey)

Emily is always cold no matter what season, but she’s always so comfortable in fall because she can tuck her hands into her sweaters (or coats if she wears them overtop of her outfit) and wear thicker, warmer pants to the office

She can wear her fuzzy socks to bed!!!

And, yes, as soon as the season changes from summer to fall, she’s in her favorite pair

JJ still wears short sleeved shirts or skirts, much to her girlfriend’s disbelief

(She always insists she won’t get cold, but somehow always ends up in Emily’s jacket or working at her side by the end of the day)

(Emily starts wearing hoodies to bed and drops them off at JJ’s office for her to wear when she does get cold)

(It always puts a huge smile on her face when it’s nearing the end of a long work day and she gets a glimpse of JJ in one of her oversized hoodies)

(It’s certainly worth the amount of teasing she recieves from Derek and Spncer for being “whipped”)

JJ loves wearing Emily’s hoodies

She knows it’s so cliche, but they smell like her girlfriend and it comforts her

(If someone were to ask JJ to describe it, she would say that Emily smells like home, sweet and familiar)

Emily will never, and I mean never admit this out loud, but she loves pumpkin spice drinks and treats

She never drinks coffee, but one of her weaknesses is definitely a PSL from Starbucks

JJ brings her one every few days, leaving it on her desk in a travel mug covered in cartoonish ghosts

JJ likes warmed apple cider with cinnamon

Emily figures this out early on in their relationship and learns how to make JJ’s favorite cider from scratch

Yeah it’s a huge pain in the ass and she swears she can still smell apples weeks later

And fresh cinnamon sticks are hard to come by during the fall because everyone and their mother must buy them in bulk because no store within 25 miles has any

(Emily ends up borrowing some off of Rossi, though, so it works out in the end)

Besides the end result is amazing

It makes JJ happy and really that’s all Emily cares about

(Her favorite mug to drink it from is a present from Emily with a cartoony jackolantern printed on the ceramic with the words “let’s get lit” underneath)

(She blames the mom in her for loving the awful pun so much, but really it’s because it’s so cheesy and Emily gets a kick out of it)

The first fall Emily spends is just with JJ and Henry and she’s very perplexed when the two start piling up the fallen leaves on the ground and then jumping into them

She doesn’t get it (she never really got to do things like that as a child)

JJ’s like “nope, unacceptable” and persuades Emily to jump in a huge pile of leaves

Emily feels like a fucking child after diving into a pile of dead leaves, but JJ and Henry’s giggles are infectious and what the hell it’s fun

They jump in leaves for hours, only going inside when their noses and cheeks are red from the cold

Emily gets them all a glass of steaming apple cider (Henry’s excited because he gets to use a grown up mug)

Then they all snuggle on the couch, JJ tucked up against Emily’s side with Henry squished between them both, and turn on Halloween movies

Henry’s favorite is ParaNorman or Hotel Transylvania

Emily’s is The Nightmare Before Christmas (she knows the words to every single song)

And, sue her, but JJ’s favorite is Halloweentown

She thinks it’s absolutely adorable and she’s always excited when it’s on

(Only the first one, though)

(JJ was not a fan of Return to Halloweentown)

(When Michael is old enough to form his own opinions and thoughts, Halloweentown also becomes his favorite movie)

She and Emily don’t really watch the horror movies that air during the Halloween season (they see enough real gore in their line of work, and that’s more than enough thank you very much)

Once they try to watch Final Destination 2 but end up switching the channel within the first few minutes

The concept is too ridiculous and the gore is too in your face for either of them to stomach

(Besides, Emily is really weirded out that the main character in the movie looks exactly like JJ if she were a brunette)

(JJ doesn’t see the resemblance)

Honestly, if you were to ask them what their favorite thing about fall is, both would immediately answer that it means a new season of Halloween Wars

The perfect way to end their week is cuddling up on the couch under a thick quilt with glasses of wine while watching The Cooking Channel

(They’re both completely in awe at how the artists and bakers create such amazing displays out of just pumpkins and sugar)

They often conflict on who they want to win (neither one of their picks has ever even made it to the final three, much to both of their dismay)

(And, yeah okay, maybe they both only watch Halloween Wars so they can come up with unique ideas when they carve their own pumpkins)

JJ’s pumpkins are always super cute and simple, but she makes use of all the pumpkin scraps to create whiskers or ears

Emily’s visions for her pumpkins are always way too ambitious, so she always ends up with a pumpkin carved all to hell with no decernable shape to her carving

(One time, JJ helps her carve a witch into her pumpkin and she’s so happy and so proud of it that she leaves it on the porch for weeks and weeks afterwards)

They both love helping the boys with their pumpkins

One time, JJ and Emily hold a friendly competition to see which team comes up with the more creative pumpkins (youngest vs oldest, so JJ’s with Michael while Henry teams up with Emily)

JJ and Michael make pirate pumpkins

(Michael gives his pumpkin an eyepatch and a “gold” tooth)

(it’s honestly adorable)

(JJ’s pumpkin has a “parrot” except she couldn’t find a toy bird that would work for her so it’s an orange worm on a string)

Emily and Henry make their pumpkins look like the teenage mutant ninja turtles

(Henry’s is Donatello and Emily’s is Leonardo)

And, well honestly, no one can pick which team did a better job so they all decide that their reward is four amazing pumpkins

(JJ’s porch definitely looks a lot cooler when she puts the pumpkins out for Halloween)

The best moments are honestly the ones where they all gather out on the porch swing, snuggled up together and drinking warm cider, or eating freshly baked cookies, as the sun sets

JJ and the boys practically smother Emily so that she’s never cold

It’s sometimes uncomfortable as hell, but Emily never complains because she’s content to just be with the people she loves the most

[slyttherins]

Unexpected flame (part 1) | Fred Weasley x Sirius Black’s daughter

December 1993

This year, Christmas fell on a full moon. Remus felt guilty about leaving Juliet for the holidays, but he had no other choice. Staying with her on a full moon was dangerous and endangering her was the last thing he - and Sirius - wanted.

''It's okay. You can't control the moon.''

''Wish I could.'' Remus flashed her a sad, apologetic smile. Although he had grown to accept his fate - or curse -, he still hated that part of himself. The wolf. ''Have you packed your bags yet? The train is leaving tomorrow morning, right?'' he asked, changing the subject.

''Yes.''

''Good.'' Remus nodded. ''I talked to Molly, she'll be picking you up at Kings Cross.''

In the red leather chair, Juliet sighed. Much like Remus, she didn't like when people made a big fuss or went out of their way for her. It made her very uncomfortable. ''I could've stayed at school, you know. Some students stay here for Christmas.''

Remus brushed her off with a whisk of his hand. ''Nonsense. Molly and Arthur promised it was no trouble. And, you and Ginny are good friends. You'll have great fun at the Weasleys','' he promised.

''I'll miss you.''

''Me too, darling.''

''Remus?''

''Yes?''

''If he returns-''

''I'll send an immediate owl to the Weasleys and let you know.''

.

Ginny by her side, Juliet joined the rest of the Weasleys after getting down the train. There were so many students at the station, but, lucky for her, their red hair were easy to spot in a crowd.

A round woman with a bright smile and ginger hair was waiting on the side. She greeted each of the kids with a tight hug, happy to see them after four months away from home.

''And you must be Juliet?'' she said, seeing familiar a pair of grey eyes. ''I haven't seen you in so long. It's crazy how you've grown!''

Juliet smiled politely, having very few memories of the woman. ''Thank you for having me, Mrs. Weasley.''

''It’s no problem. Remus is a friend of family and we’re always there for family. You can call me Molly.''

.

''You’ll be staying in Ginny’s room. It’s on the first floor,'' Mrs. Weasley announced when they crossed the Burrow's front door. She looked around, searching for her daughter who was a couple meters behind, struggling with her own bags. Why did she bring so much stuff? ''Ginny! Can you help Juliet set a bed? I've put extra blankets and everything you'll need on your desk.''

The younger Weasley nodded and grabbed Juliet's hand and led her up the stairs, excited to have a friend over and having a sleepover.

The room was small - not to say tiny - which was to be expected with such a huge family. The girls put their stuff away and set Juliet’s bed right by Ginny’s. It was a bit cramped, but it was only for a couple days.

Once everything was set, Juliet came back down and followed the yummy smell to the kitchen.

''Where's Ginny?'' Molly asked.

''Bathing. Neville wasn't sitting when the train took off and spilled pumpkin juice on her shirt,'' Juliet explained, shaking her head at Neville's mishaps. That boy was so clumsy!

''Well, come and sit. Dinner should be ready soon.''

Juliet pulled one of the many mismatched chairs and sat down. One of the twins was at the table, but she couldn’t tell if it was Fred or George. Hopefully by the end of the stay she’ll be able to tell them apart.

''So...you’re Black’s daughter?'' Fred asked as he subtly tried to steal some cookies that were cooling on the counter while his mother's back was turned.

Since Sirius' escape from Azkaban, it was difficult not to bring up her father every time Juliet mentioned her name. It didn't help that she looked so much like him. She had become well known over the past year despite Remus' attempt to hide her from the wizarding world. Not the magic, but people.

Although the Black family was part of the sacred twenty-eight and very high in the wizarding world's hierarchy, Sirius Black was considered a traitor. Therefore, as his daughter, Juliet was considered as so too. People could be so vile and quick to judge - even toward a fourteen years old girl.

Fred, though, didn't mean any harm.

''In the flesh,'' Juliet responded proudly.

''What does it feels to have a father on the run?''

''Fred! Don’t harass our guest,'' Molly warned, eyes on the cooking pot. ''And don't think I didn't see you stealing cookies.''

The two teenagers chuckled.

''It’s fine, Mrs- Molly. It doesn't bother me. I can handle the questions.''

''Well, you two can do that later. Dinner is ready.'' She turned to her son. ''Go get your father, he's in the yard studying another bizarre muggle invention he got his hands on.''

Fred left and she then proceeded to call out the rest of the kids, making Juliet jump. She had not expected Molly to have such a loud voice.

Seconds later, everyone stumbled in the kitchen, scurrying for seats. Ginny, freshly out of her bath, sat next to Juliet, telling her all about the delicious dish her mom had prepared tonight - and the desert. Ron arrived next, sitting on her other side and making a dash for the bread in the center of the table, taking a big bite and chewing like a cow. How charming.

''Apparently it's called a toaster. You put bread in it and it springs up when they are grilled and ready. It's bloody brilliant!'' Mr. Weasley explained as he walked in, Fred on his heels. He kissed his wife’s cheek and made his way to the table where all the kids were. ''Smells good in here.''

''I've never met him. Sirius. He was wrongly sent to Azkaban before I was old enough to remember him. I've only seen him in pictures,'' Juliet told Fred when he sat down beside his twin.

''Our father says he killed thirteen muggles and an old friend, Peter Pettigrew,'' Percy said, reaching for a piece of bread from the basket on the table.

''Percy...'' Mr. Weasley warned loosely.

''There is no proof. There was no body-'' the raven haired girl defended, only to be interrupted by Percy.

''Where is Pettigrew then?'' he asked with an eyebrow raised, scoffing when Juliet didn't respond. ''Sirius Black is a murderer. I hope the dementors find him very soon and put him back where he belongs. He deserves to rot in Azkaban for his crimes.''

Tears welled in Juliet's eyes at Percy's words and accusations, but she refused to let them spill. Was this what Percy really thought? Or was he repeating what he's heard from his father and other wizards?

''Percy!'' Molly scolded. ''That is no table talk.''

.

By 10pm, Ginny had already gone to bed, tired from the day. Juliet had been a bit bummed, but she stayed downstairs with the other Weasleys. Ron and George were disputing a game of chess in the living area, making the most of the time they had left before their bedtime. She had watched them for a few minutes, but then decided to get some fresh air.

She sat on the small wooden patio and raised her eyes to watch the stars, secretly hoping she could put her astronomy lessons to application. Since she was a kid, Juliet always loved looking at the starry night sky. It helped calm her mind. Maybe it was part of her bloodline? The Blacks had a penchant for astronomical names and took their names from stars or constellations. Even Juliet had carried on with the tradition. It was subtle, but Sirius had chosen the name very carefully.

''What are you doing out here?'' Fred asked, coming from behind. He had a thick sweater - most likely knitted by Molly -, shielding him from the late night air.

''Looking at the stars, although I can’t seem to find any stars I’m looking for tonight.'' Juliet frowned, disappointed and annoyed. ''I thought it'd be easy. I’m usually pretty fast at finding stars and even constellations in Astronomy class...''

''Ah! That’s because Professor Sinistra makes sure what you’re looking for can be seen from where you are. I'll help you.''

Fred took a seat beside her and looked up. He had never been an astronomy nerd, but he could recognize a few. Constellations were harder to find though.

The sky above the burrow was almost always clear which made it easy to see the stars. The view was even better from Ron's bedroom, being on the highest floor of the house.

Fred felt himself close having a crick in his neck when he finally found what he was looking for. A smirk curled on his lips. ''Can you see that one? Over the pond, right beside the Orion constellation.'' He pointed his index in the direction, helping the younger witch find her way in the night sky.

Juliet followed Fred's direction and nodded. ''The one that shines so bright it's almost blue?''

''Yeah. It's the Dog Star, also called-''

''Sirius,'' the raven haired girl finished with a smile, amazed by her new find. She had been trying to find her father's star for months, but Grimmauld Place wasn't ideal for stargazing and she didn't dare ask Professor Sinistra, worried she wouldn't help her because of the star's name.

''How did you know it was that one? Are you a secret nerd, Weasley?''

Fred shook his head, looking down with a small laugh. ''No. You should see my marks... But Bill, my older brother, had an astronomy phase a few years ago. He had a telescope in his room and all. From what I remember, the Sirius star is part of Canis Major which is a winter and spring star pattern. Sirius is the constellation's dog’s nose.''

''Thank you. For showing me this. It’s rare these days that when someone brings up my father’s name it doesn’t have murderer or criminal in the same sentence.''

''Sorry about what Percy said during dinner. He’s a git sometimes. Don’t listen to him.'' Fred didn’t have to apologize on his brother’s behalf, but wanted to, knowing Percy was stubborn and would never. Whether he believed Sirius was guilty or not, he didn’t have to be so cold and crude.

''Perhaps he’s right.'' Juliet sighed, putting her head in her hands in despair. ''I don’t know who or what to believe anymore.''

''It’s okay to be confused. The whole situation feels like it’s missing pieces of the puzzle,'' Fred admitted, platonically putting a hand on her thigh, trying to bring her comfort.

Juliet raised her head and stared ahead. ''If he didn’t kill Pettigrew, where is he? No one has seen him since that night at London. All that was left was his finger.'' The frustration and desperation were clear in her voice.

Fred wished he had answers for her, but he was just as in the dark as everybody else. ''What does Remus think of this?''

''That he’s innocent.''

When she turned old enough to understand what Azkaban was, Remus had revealed her father's whereabouts. He had insisted to be the one to break the news to her, not wanting untrusty wizards or loud mouths - or worse, students - to twist the truth. He told her about the Potters, about...Voldemort, and the wizarding war. Nothing was very jolly, but Remus insisted that she knew. Most importantly, that she knew her father had been accused of crimes he didn't commit.  

Fred thought for a moment, putting his words together. ''Want to know what I think?'' She nodded, turning to look at him with her grey irises. ''I think Remus is the only person alive that knows Sirius well enough to judge your father's intentions and what he's capable of. I also think there a hidden part to every story.''

Juliet frowned, confused. ''I don't get what you're trying to say...''

''I don't think Remus would feed you lies solely to make your father look like a good man to your eyes. If Sirius really did kill those people, he would've warned you about him being the dangerous murderer the Ministry claim him to be.''

[whiskey-bumblebee]

autumn in new york

Pairing: Pale/Reader

Word Count: 1083

Year:

A/N: This might be boring? I don’t really have any ideas for plot but I hope you can enjoy this fall walk with Pale :)

Pale’s gloved fingers are wrapped around yours, squeezing every now and again while you walk. He’s bundled up in his leather jacket with a sweatshirt underneath, one you can’t wait to wear once it makes its way to the laundry pile.

Occasionally, you nuzzle up against his shoulder, blaming it on the cold and needing to warm up your nose. He wraps his arm around you, pulls you in nice and tight against him. 

He’s quieter than usual, thoughtful as he looks around Central Park. A handful of other couples are out doing the same thing, walking around and admiring the fall colors. You come up to the Bow Bridge to cross from the Ramble to the Sheep Meadow. Your pace is leisurely, but the brisk weather keeps you moving.

You feel his arm unwrapping from around you, and you glance at him, silently asking what’s happening. He nods for you to cross the bridge and pulls your Polaroid camera from your bag. Brushing your hands over your hair to smooth any stray strands, you head across the bridge, stopping before you think you’ll be too small in the photo. 

Pale pulls his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one, tucking it into his mouth while he directs you to come closer. Moving a few steps at a time, he eventually holds up his hand, stop. You can’t help but smile at the way he squints to look through the viewfinder. He smiles too when he notices.

He fiddles with the focus for a few moments and you gaze out over the lake, admiring the reflection of the gold, the oranges, and the reds. You think of pumpkins and hayrides and apple tarts. You hear the click and then the whirr of the camera, and you whip around.

“Pale! I wasn’t looking!”

He smiles around his cigarette and shakes the Polaroid, waiting for it to develop. Catching up with you, he strokes his hand over your back. “I think it’ll turn out.”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

Pale nods. “Yeah, I ain’t ever gonna get used to it. City’s grey like a rat’s ass most of the year, then all of a sudden lights up like this.”

He tucks his hand around yours again and you keep walking. There was that smell of wet leaves in the air, and grass too. Groundskeeper must have been mowing somewhere. It was one of those days where the sun had taken the day off without telling anyone about it, leaving the moon to do all the work, casting a funny white grey color over everything.

“Baby are you the sun?”

“Hm?”

“Sun took the day off, you did too. Ain’t ever seen you and the sun in the same place,” You teased, tucking your other hand into your pocket.

“Huh. Take the day off work and even the sun stops shinin’. See why I can’t take more time off? Earth’d stop spinnin’.”

“So you ain’t the sun? Just the sun’s manager or something?”

Pale huffed a chuckle, sending a puff of smoke from his nose. “Somethin’ like that.”

He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again. “Nah. Worth it for a day with my girl.”

You blushed, still not used to his admissions of love. Every day you felt lucky. You didn’t think you’d ever not feel lucky to have Pale. 

“You ever think about proposing?”

You looked up at Pale, eyes lit up just from thinking about it. He looked straight ahead, fixing his eyes on some point somewhere so he wouldn’t show his reaction. You knew him well enough to know it meant he was getting a bit emotional about it.

Pale nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

He squeezed your hand, and you knew he meant he’d talk about it, just needed a second to get this thoughts together. Sighing out the last of the cigarette’s nicotine, he stubbed it out.

“I thought I’d do it at an Italian place, one of the real flash ones, maybe down in Little Italy. They bring out the pizza onto the table, we eat and have some wine, then just before the waiter comes and asks if we’re wantin’ the dessert menu, I’d get down on one knee next to your chair, take the box out my pocket, ask the question.”

“Wow,” You smiled. “Romantic, huh?”

Pale chuckled and shook his head. “It’s nothin’. Ain’t Paris or Milan or whatever. Hell, might even ask while we’re fuckin’, you know how I get. Might not even be able to hold all that mushy shit in. Once I had the ring, you’d probably know about it. Wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret, I’d be so hopped up.”

You nodded, came to a stop as you decided which path to take. “You got a preference?”

Glancing at Pale, you noticed he was crying. Silent, singular tears, orderly even in the way they travelled down his cheeks. 

“Oh honey I didn’t mean-”

He shook his head and sat down on a bench, patting his lap. You clambered onto him, a little awkwardly with the way the bench was too shallow for his frame. He tucked his face into your neck, kissing and crying.

“Angel, huh? Should’ve picked you. Should’ve waited.”

You stroked his hair and shook your head. “Don’t know what else would’ve changed if you’d waited. Maybe we’d never-”

“Uh uh. Don’t.”

You sighed softly. “We could do it anyway, you know. You could propose, have a ring if you wanted. The pizza and the wine. Nobody’s gonna give a shit if we don’t actually get engaged.”

Pale pulled away and dabbed at his eyes with his palms. “Yeah.”

You nodded. 

Pale forced a smile, swept his thumb over your lip, appreciating this angel hovering over him. 

“Now you know my plan though, huh? Gonna have to think of somethin’ else.”

“No,” You laughed, “I like that idea.”

A few days later, you picked up a little booklet from Tiffany’s on fifth and sat on the couch with a red ballpoint pen. Accidentally, you left it on the coffee table in the living room when you went off to see some friends. When you came back, you noticed it was gone.

You smiled.

[mikkomacko]

Dear Daisy 6

Harry enjoys Saturdays. For the past two months, Saturdays have consistently been his day off from patrolling. Occasionally he'll get Sunday or Friday off as well, but he doesn't get his hopes up. It doesn't matter to him. He's completely fine only having Saturday off.

A shop in town (one he's yet to learn the name of because he's still confused by the French language), had a nice leather bound journal he'd bought the first week of being stationed in the city. It's similar to the one he'd left at home, the one he's comfortable with, so it makes writing his letters easy. Which is what Saturday is for. A letter to Daisy, a letter to Anne, a letter to Gemma, and a letter to Niall who's unable to fight due to his old knee injury. Today he gets through Anne's, Gemma's, and Niall's letters quickly. He's addressing one to Daisy when he pauses, recalling the letters she sent last week. Harry quickly flips to a blank page, scribbling the name of a man he's only spoken to a few times.

Dear Robin,

I wasn't sure you'd remember me after all these years. The last time we spoke I was about thirteen, right before my uncle started grooming me on the steel business. I've changed a lot since then which is why it was quite shocking to hear about you from Daisy. She told me of your generosity, a quality I'll always remember you for if the books in my library are anything to go by. I'd like to thank you for taking Daisy in while I'm away and distracting her with the gift of baking. She may not look it, but I know she gets awful lonely when she's left to herself too long. I remember a few years ago, when I was maybe seventeen or eighteen, I'd passed by her near the park where she was sitting in the grass, chatting with a pigeon. Of course I teased her for it. What kind of nutter talks to birds? But she'd gotten flustered and yelled at me, told me birds need friends too. She also mentioned being stood up by a boy from my mum's neighborhood so she was complaining to the bird. It wasn't really my business, as she so snottily put it, but I knew she was continuing to speak me because she was lonely. I suppose I'm glad that Bill whatever didn't show up that day.

I was worried about leaving her. Her family has hurt her. She wouldn't want to spend much time with them. And her friend Summer has taken up a babysitting job so her time with her is limited as well. Knowing she's enjoying her time with you brings me comfort. I can't thank you enough for watching over my love.

She told me of your son's and I'm sad to not know them very well. I'm sure they're just as wonderful as you if not more. Perhaps you could give me their names or where they're stationed and I could keep an eye out for them? I believe it's a fair deal; you watching my family and I'll watch yours?

Wishing you a happy fall and hoping the bakery stays busy,

Harry Styles.

The bakery is a big company in town so he doesn't need to ask for the address. Finishing up that letter and stuffing it into an envelope, a titter of giggles flows through the November air. Harry peeks up through his eyelashes, finding two girls in long coats not so subtly looking at him. A red head one wiggles her fingers at him, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Harry thinks she's the kind of bird they'd put on a postcard around here. With the Eiffel Tower behind her, trees turning autumn shades that compliment her hair. It's a nice picture, but not one he'd like to look at forever. French girls are pretty, but he prefers English. Particularly English girls with frizzy brunette curls and freckles on her nose and cheeks. Light brown eyes that stir like honey and drip warmth into his veins when they look at him, whether it be through tears of frustration or sparkles of adoration.

He ignores the girls, shifting his shoulders under his thick army coat. At least the uniform is warm. Harry turns back to the letter he had started writing to Daisy, teeth sinking into his chapped bottom lip as he continues to scribble.

Dear Daisy,

I've never enjoyed autumn. I find it uncomfortable. That brief period between the peek of life in the summer and the bittersweet end in the winter. The one thing that I do enjoy, is my mother's pumpkin soup. I'm glad Gemma visited you on Halloween and I'm glad you had so many pumpkins. I would say I'm jealous but I think that'd give you an edge over me so I'll admit to nothing. As for the fighter pilot girl, I wish I could have seen her. My father was a fighter pilot and I use to have a photo by my bed of him in his plane. One time I had a dream that my daughter flew planes, crossed oceans and looked down at mountain tops. She might've looked like that girl you saw. I can't know for sure seeing as I'm here and you're there. Again, I won't say I'm jealous, but do you think there's a chance she'll be a pilot again next year?

Anyway, I'm sitting on a bench in the grass around the Eiffel Tower right now and there's two girls watching me as if they'd have a chance. Suppose I should tell them I'm a married lad? Or should I let them dream? I reckon it'd rile you up if I didn't say anything so I'll stay silent. Who's jealous now aye?

Think I'll go to the bakery down the street after this. You've given me an awful craving with that dream of us in our house, dancing as your pies burn in the oven and my roast beef cooks to perfection. One of my bunk mates gets cookies sent to him from his mum. He likes to brag about it. Think ya could send me some oatmeal ones? Oughta show his mum who's boss.

I don't like raisins though. If there's raisins in my cookies I'll have no choice but to divorce you.

Until then, I hope you're staying warm. Niall told me he'd drop by sometime, check the heater and leave some firewood for you. I don't know if you'll need it but there's extra blankets in my closet as well. My nan knitted a nice green one for me a couple years ago. Spilled some tea on it once but it's awful nice. Feel free to use it. It'll keep ya warm at night. Not as warm as me of course, but it should suffice. If it doesn't you can go to the church and complain to my Nan's grave. Tell her Harry sent you and maybe she'll only hit you a few times.

Heard a rumor the other day that if things are still slow around here by December a few of us might be able to go home for a bit around the holidays. Don't get your hopes up too much but know I'm brown nosing the hell out of my sergeant for the next few weeks. It'd be nice to be able to hit you with a snowball. And it'd be nice to spend my first Christmas as a married man with my wife. I promise I'll keep updating you (only if you send me cookies). Don't tell my mum or sister, they'll try writing to my sergeant about sending me home and I don't need him knowing I'm a momma's boy.

I'll dream of you baking cookies tonight, tossing raisins into the trashcan just for me and I hope you dream of me sitting here, getting oggled by some Frenchies. Happy November love, enjoy this time in the twilight zone.

I'll be home soon Daisy, I promise

The Harry Styles x

~

Harry's week has gone by too slowly. Typically, roaming the streets of Paris or cleaning up around the base is enough to keep him from straying but not this week. Everything he does, everything he sees, everything he smells pushes his mind to Daisy. Mopping the kitchen floors reminds him of the day they worked together to clean her room. The trees remind him of how it felt to sit in the backyard with her, listening to her soft breaths as she worked on her blanket. The smell of the bakery, flour and cinnamon, remind him of her warmth and the cold air only makes him long for her even more. He doesn't think he's ever had such a terrible week, so he decides he'll push himself to do more next week. Initiative will definitely earn him a ticket home for Christmas, right?

He tries not to let himself get too discouraged as he collapses onto his cot, fingers clutching to the envelopes he received today as well as the medium sized box addressed to him. He's got a letter from his mother as well as Robin, but it's the one attached to the box that he goes for first.

Dear Harry,

French girls may have cute accents but can they make Robin's famous oatmeal cookies perfectly on their first try? I really hope not because then I've really got nothing going for me. Except for the fact that I've already got your last name of course.

I don't know how often you go see the Eiffel Tower but I'd appreciate a thorough description and rating of it from you please. I'd love to see the Eiffel Tower one day but I think I'd like to see the whole world too. Maybe your daughter will be a pilot and she can fly us all over the planet. If not, I'll have to divorce you myself. Assuming you haven't already divorced me by then. I think it would be funny if we divorced each other all the time. Then we could just keep getting married over and over again. I wouldn't mind it if you wore that suit you wore on our first wedding day. You looked really handsome. I was thinking of dragging Summer to town with me to get our wedding photo. If you're nice I'll send you one. If not, I'll save it for the holidays when you come home. I know you said not to get my hopes up but I also know you. You're a born leader Harry whether you like it not, and I'm positive you'll be allowed home.

I just realized something a bit funny. Home. Home used to be my parents house. The home I grew up in. Then I thought it’d be your house, the one I took over by planting flowers everywhere and actually cleaning. I don’t know what home is right now. I keep telling you to come home but what does that matter if I don’t even know where that is? Maybe I’m overthinking it. I hope you know your home Harry and I hope you’re able to come back to it.

Enjoy the cookies, I put extra extra raisins and love into them.

-Daisy o

Harry heart pounds, teeth biting at his bottom lip as he lays the letter down on his pillow and wiggles his finger under the seal on the box. Tearing it open, he fights back a smile at the smell of cookies that hits his nose. They’re not hot or anything, but they’re relatively fresh and wrapped up in a cute basket with green ribbon.

“What’d ya get Styles?” Pip, a bunk mate, asks from two cots over. Harry pulls the basket out, smirking at the other man.

“Gift from my girl,” he says proudly, chest puffing out “she’s a baker.” Pip chuckles at Harry’s sudden uplifted attitude, peeking at the cookies that do look quite delicious.

"Hope they're better than Frank's wife's." He makes a disgusted face and Harry laughs. Frank only shared his cookies once and they were bloody awful. He's never tried Daisy's baking but he's sure it's better. She's better than every other girl on the planet. How could her cookies not be better as well?

Harry tucks them safely into the little bedside table he has, glancing over her letter one more time because he loves her words before tucking it into the drawer that holds all his letters from her. He can't help but think of her claiming she knows him. If Daisy knew him as well as she thinks she does, then she'd know that his home isn't some silly house. And she'd know that he's her home. He's always been her home.

~

Time is supposed to heal. That's what Harry's always been told. The words first arose after his father died and he has blown them off for a long time. Until they rang true. Because one day Anne stopped crying, and people stopped leaving casseroles at the house, and Gemma started going on dates again, and Thomas showed up to chat with Harry more than he used to.

Time. Harry thinks he's pretty tolerant of time. He'd waited hours to speak to Daisy the first night he met her. He waited years to finally be more than the boy who almost killed her. And he's held onto two big secrets for all these years because he knows she'll need time before she can see him as someone she doesn't hate anymore. Years flew by so months should be a breeze. Right? Harry thinks so, but the two months away from Daisy are agonizing, and they're getting worse as days go by. Since when did November turn from 30 days to 300?

Extra training. Extra shifts. Extra work. Extra letters. Extra sleep. Yet nothing is helping to speed the process. He's gotten snippy (snippier than usual) to the point that he pissed off Frank for saying his wife's baking was "absolute shit" and he snapped at that red head girl in town for batting her eyelashes at him. There's a chance he told her she's skin to something the dog would drag in but he honestly can't bring himself to care at all. He just wants a moment with Daisy. Just one moment so he'll know that she's still is because sometimes he feels like he's been stuck at an army base his whole life and their marriage is all one big dream.

When the final day of November rolls around, Harry breathes a sigh of relief. He tells himself that he'll see her soon although he really doesn't know when soon will be.

He's hunched over a table in the cafeteria, hidden in the corner because he really doesn't want to talk to anyone, with his journal and mail sitting before him. He'd told his mum how hard the days were getting and she started sending letters more often, filling him in on random events and gatherings happening back home. He'd just gotten one yesterday talking about the neighbors starting a victory garden so he's a bit surprised to have another one so soon. Surprised, but grateful.

Dear Harry,

We've gotten more snow this week, enough for Niall to come over to shovel out the driveway for me. He stopped by your's and Daisy's home as well, insisting he help take care of "Harry's gals" as he put it. He's awful nice and I heard he's been checking in on Daisy often which is great.

I know you've really been missing her, and I hope this letter brings you comfort rather than heartache. Daisy is devastated without you. I do believe she's happy when she's at the bakery with Robin which I find simply wonderful, but there's multiple nights where she's shown up at my doorstep. She cries for you a lot, misses you more than I think you know. I think she sleeps better here. I always put her in your old bedroom and she's out like a light.

Please don't worry about her Harry. I'm glad she's come to me. She needs companionship and nurturing, both of which I can give. Know that she's safe and happy in your old room, and she's safe and happy with Robin. I know this may not be the happiest of news, but I want you to focus on the good part. Daisy misses you, and to miss you means she's gotten comfortable with you. She's cares about you Harry. I remember the days where I'd hear nothing but you bellyaching about her hating you. Think of how far you've come Harry, and use that happiness when things are tough.

We're all watching over Daisy and taking care of her. Now you take care of yourself, you've got a family waiting for you. I love you very much Harry, and I'm so proud of you.

-Mom

Harry's chest aches, bones collapsing with the image of his sweet Daisy dripping rain, crying in the middle of his mother's living room for him. He knows she's shy, and that she had a hard time being comfortable around his family. Not that he blames her. She was practically forced into the Styles family, so to know that she actually sought out Anne is heartbreaking. He's only ever seen cry a handful of times, all of them his doing, and the most dreadful time were her tears at their engagement party. She had looked so small and afraid, so desperate for safety that he genuinely hated himself at the time too. Because he did that to her. Well, not exactly, but he didn't fix the problem that was caused by his recklessness.

He can see that same look in her eyes. The one that came to mind when he was signing up for the army. Doe eyed, vulnerable, sweet, and innocent. Too precious for him to risk being hurt. He supposes he'd rather being crying over him than being crying over someone else's cruelty. At least if it's his fault he knows she's still safe. He'd never hurt her, not like the world would. Not like secrets between family members, and arranged marriages, and a German army would. No, he only teases her. It's his own stupid but relatively harmless way of getting back at her. She's been breaking his heart for years. He thinks it's fair that he gets to fluster her enough to tears sometimes.

But he never wanted her devastated and broken by his absence. Maybe he did his job too well. He somehow got her to be romantic with him after a decade of nothing but hatred. He cared for her, nurtured her, but then he had to leave, and that sheltered place he created for her left. He hopes she can find some sense of peace with his mother. Anne's always been the best mother anyone could ask for and Daisy could use that love right now.

Folding the letter back up, Harry decides he doesn't want to keep this one. While he feels appreciated and cared for because Daisy actually misses him, he doesn't want to have to be reminded of her teary eyes every time he comes across it. Harry's crumbling the letter up when another envelope is being thrown in front of him, smacking against the table top.

"What's this?" Harry asks gruffly, because the envelope is blank and thick so it couldn't have come in the mail. He looks up, heart jumping nervously when he's met with the eyes of his sergeant.

"Ticket home Styles," he says, lips quirking up under his thick mustache. "you've earned it. Taken on more work than necessary here. And I here you got a bird back home that doesn't want to spend Christmas alone."

Before Harry can say anything, sergeant is turning on his heel and heading towards the door. Harry stares in shock at the envelope, heart thumping in his ears. Pip had to have told sergeant about Daisy because that's the only guy Harry's ever talked to her about. After snapping at those French girls, he'd sat Harry down and told him to him everything. And he had. And now's he's got his ticket to Daisy. His ticket home.