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jadequeen88 · 4 years ago

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RED AND THE WOLF

I’m a little late to the game, BUT here is my contribution the the Citrus Dome’s BNHA Fairytale!AU collab! Check out the other works here.

A/N: this was completed and uploaded on mobile, so please let me know of any typos! It’s also not beta read and I’m a little self conscious of the ending. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy!

Half Giant!Kirishima x Wolf!Bakugo x fem!reader

2.3k words

TW: threesome, kidnapping, tied up, size kink, a tad bit of breeding kink.

ALL FICS I WROTE ARE 18+. MINORS DNI

You scoffed at the warnings from the villagers and your family. You put as much stock in them as you did all the other old wives’ tales you’d been fed growing up (read, not fuckin much). You’d never seen any giants or knew anyone who did. Neither did you know anyone who could say they encountered a fierce man who shifts into the form of a golden wolf… So, you concluded, there was absolutely no reason to pay attention to the ramblings of the old assholes grumbling out tall tales into their fourth or fifth mug of ale…. or to the old washerwomen by the stream angrily beating their undergarments on the flat stones, yelling out as you entered the dark canopy of the forest.

********

“Ei!”

“Hmmmmgghhnn, what? Why do you wake me this early?” The massive man rolled to the other side of their shared bed, trying to ignore the loud, booming voice of his partner, and failing.

“I found one. It’s gotta be her…” he shivered, the long, golden tail he kept even in his human form bristled out, “Just wait until you smell her, Ei.”

The half-giant sprung up from the soft pillows and warm furs of the bed. He knew that not many things got his wolf this worked up so he had no choice but to believe him. Grabbing a small, leather band, he tied back his long, vibrant red mane of hair and threw on his tall, worn leather boots.

“Lead me to her, Katsuki.”

********

You didn’t even hear a rustle of leaves to warn you of the massive man approaching you from behind. Two arms the size of tree trunks latched around your waist and your back was pulled against a fleshy, warm wall of pure muscle. When a golden wolf that looked more like a lion jumped out into the path ahead of you, licking his muzzle with a long, red tongue, your brain refused to process exactly what was happening.

A scream was caught in your throat as a cloth was pressed to your mouth. The hand that held it could easily cover your entire face and you shuddered at the thought of who could possibly have hands that large.

“Shh, my sweet,” you could feel the deep rumble of his voice as his chest pressed even harder into your back, “Sleep now…”

********

The sounds of a crackling fire and the feeling of warm, sweet-smelling furs surrounding you lull you back into a peaceful sleep… until you try to turn over and realize a silk band has your wrists tied to one of the massive posts of the bed you’re sleeping on. Panic quickly takes over when you remember the events that lead up to you being here.

Before you can do more than thrash a bit and whimper, a large presence looms over you blocking out the glow of the fireplace. You think you must be dreaming because no man could ever actually be this large.

He had to be a full seven feet tall and four feet wide across his muscled shoulders. Long, crimson hair like a lion’s mane surrounded his chiseled jawline and fell down his back. You noticed the sweet, spicy smell that enveloped you when buried in the furs was coming from him…

You know you should be more frightened than you were, but you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. His deep red eyes were kind and his pointed canines that peeked out from his plush lips as he smiled sent a thrill down your spine instead of scaring you (like they should have).

“O-oh… umm,” your gaze faltered under his intense scrutiny, “Where am I?” you hesitated a moment, “Sir?”

Kirishima wanted to pounce on you right then… so small and soft and pretty… You were going to look so good round with his child… but he knew to be careful with you for now. This would be so, so much sweeter if he didn’t have to force you.

“You’re home now, little one,” he said confidently as if you should have already known that.

“B-but, I was… I was supposed to be selling-”

You were cut off as Kirishima knelt beside you and bent forward to stroke your cheek with one of his massive hands, “My precious one,” he hummed and you couldn’t help but feel safe, “Your life has much more purpose now. You’re ours.”

Wait…

Before you could finish the question, another body lept onto the bed, causing the mattress to shift under you violently. A warm face was buried into your neck, then, and the scratchy stubble along with wild sniffing from the person’s nose sent full-body chills all over you.

“Kats!” the man in front of you barked out, “Down! Now!”

The person assaulting your neck (Kats?) huffed in annoyance and pulled away from you to sit back on folded legs, glaring into the other man’s eyes.

“I’ve been waiting all fuckin day, Shitty Hair!” you noticed his canines were even longer and sharper than the other man’s, “How long r’we just gonna watch her sleep? I can smell her! She’s fertile NOW!”

Now you were thoroughly confused and panic crossed your features.

Kirishima sighed and drug a hand down his face as he groaned in frustration. So much for easing you into things…

“Hey,” the familiar hand that was stroking your face brushed your hair back from your forehead, “Let’s start with names. I’m Eijiro, but you can call me Ei or Red.”

“Or Shitty Hair,” the blonde snickered, pleased with himself for getting a jab in on his companion.

“No,” Eijiro growled, momentarily meeting the other man’s gaze with clear irritation, “Don’t listen to the overgrown puppy.”

Said “puppy” stiffened beside you and was about to lunge over you to tackle Kirishima when you reached out and put a hand on his bare chest. He gave you a confused look and cocked his head to the side. You had no clue what compelled you to touch him, but you know that your hand moved before your brain could stop it.

“Please,” you whispered, “D-don’t fight…”

Both of them visibly relaxed. A light thump-thump-thump was heard on the bed and you noticed not only did he have a tail, but you caused it to wag happily. This caused you to giggle lightly and raise your hand to scratch his unruly, blonde spikes. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you that you should NOT be this relaxed and you should NOT be okay with what was happening, but the sighs and whimpers you were pulling from his gorgeous throat dulled any sense of fear you’d had.

Kirishima cleared his throat and you stopped your scratching to give him your attention (much to Katsuki’s annoyance). “This,” he said, pushing the blonde back from your body slightly and moving closer to your side, “is Katsuki. Or Kats.”

“But you can just call me Daddy if ya want,” he whispered in your ear and you felt a long (a slightly too long) tongue trail up from your collarbone to your ear. You couldn’t stop the little whimper that left your lips.

Eijiro outright growled at that and stood up, grabbing Katsuki by the hair and lifting him to eye level. Both of them were staring daggers at each other, so wound up and jealous they couldn’t see straight.

“No, please!” you thrashed against your restraints, not wanting to be underneath the two giants if they clashed, “I-I don’t want you to fight!” large tears reached the surface of your glassy eyes and both men instantly started fawning over you. Kirishima unfastened your wrists and pulled you into his large lap. He cradled you into his chest as Katsuki nuzzled his cheek into your plush thigh. It wasn’t until then that you realized that you were in your thin underclothes, the sheer material exposing your thighs and barely covering your pebbling nipples. Being so exposed pressed between the two men made your heart flutter and caused a heat to bloom in your stomach that spread all over your body.

You shifted slightly, feeling awkward and unsure of how to deal with the new sensations coursing through your body… and they seemed to pick up on it. Katsuki brushed his mouth along the skin of your thigh, not quite kissing and not quite licking, just gentle, feather-light drags of his lips. Eijiro’s large, calloused fingers traced circles into the skin of your stomach, slowly pulling your thin undergarment up, giving Katsuki more skin to indulge in.

Your head rolled back onto Ejiro’s chest and he looked at you adoringly. “Have you ever lain with a man before, sweet lamb?” his hand spanned your entire midsection as he slid the thin fabric up to sit below your breasts. Katsuki growled and nipped at the exposed skin of your tender belly, soothing it over quickly with his warm tongue. When his eager mouth trailed below your belly button, Eijiro’s other hand grabbed a fist full of blonde hair for the second time. Katsuki looked murderous but didn’t say a word. He knew if he didn’t play nice, he’d end up having to watch his mate fuck you into their mattress as he stroked his cock.

“No… no, sir. I haven’t…”

He seemed to hum in approval at your response and you noticed a very large, very HARD bulge forming underneath you. You stiffened and for a moment, wondered if it would even be possible for that THING to fit inside your virgin cunt. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“Don’t worry. We will prepare you so that it doesn’t hurt too badly.” as if on cue, Katsuki grabbed your thighs and slid you down the bed so his face was at your core. With very little warning, his tongue was eagerly lapping at your clothed slit. It felt nothing like the tentative swirls of your fingertips you’d indulge in occasionally in the dead of night tucked safely under your covers. This was foreign, electrifying, and slightly terrifying. Eijiro caressed your hardened nipples, circling your areolas gently, still not making direct contact with your skin. You were being shoved over the edge of an intense orgasm before you’d even been undressed. A tiny whimper was all the warning you gave before spilling over Katsuki’s tongue, the thin material of your panties doing nothing to hold back the copious amounts of come.

“Good, sweet girl,” Kirishima brushed the hair off your sweaty forehead. Katsuki whimpered into your throbbing core causing you to jerk involuntarily. He pulled your soaked underwear to the side, ripping it in the process. Your scolding was swallowed up by Kirishima’s hot tongue dancing against your parted lips.

“Don’t worry,” his gentle grip kept your chin turned toward his fiery gaze, “These won’t be needed for now.”

“Ei,” Katsuki whined and you could feel the thump thump thump of his tail thrashing against the bed, “C-can I please?” You noticed he had been dragging his leaking cock along the mattress and soaked through the linen trousers he wore.

“You’ve been greedy, hmm?” KIrishima wound his fingers into messy blonde tresses, “I haven’t even had a taste of our little plaything yet.”

Your stomach did flips as you watched Kirishima devour Katsuki’s lips. His tongue explored every inch of his lover’s mouth, savoring the taste of your release that coated the bottom half of Katsuki’s face.

Watching the two men get lost in each other’s touches reignited the fire in your core, your thighs clenching at the new feeling blossoming inside your body. They must have noticed your reaction, because with a side glance and a chuckle, Ejiro pulled you towards them without breaking the kiss he shared with Katsuki.

Without speaking, you seemed to know what was needed, your body moving on its own. You unfastened Eijiro’s trousers and gasped at just how massive he really was. You gulped before leaning down to gently kiss the angry, leaking head of his cock. You were rewarded with a sweet moan that Katsuki greedily swallowed up. You licked up and down, kissing every inch, getting drunk off the sweet sounds you pulled from the giant man.

Feeling left out, Katsuki quickly got your attention by grabbing your hand and stuffing it down his unfastened pants. You moaned around Eijiro’s member causing him to growl. His patience growing thin, he hauled you up to straddle his lap. His thick fingers dug into the meat of your ass and you felt a warm chest press against your back.

“Now,” the half-giant whispered into your ear, red locks falling around your neck, “Be our good pet and let us fill you up.” You whimpered, head rolling back onto Katsuki’s shoulder as a finger found your tender clit, pulling the hood back gently.

You were passed back and forth for what felt like hours. Katsuki mounting you from behind while you sucked Eijiro’s cock… Eijiro pressing you into the mattress, knees folded up by your ears… Katsuki between the two of you, Eijiro plowing into him and in turn making him fuck you twice as hard…

The three of you were utterly spent as you lay in the hot spring not far from your new home. You lay back on Kirishima’s large chest as Katsuki nuzzled into your soft cleavage. You took turns gently washing and praising each other. You’d never once felt this loved and cherished before.

As your hair was being braided by your crimson haired giant and your face peppered in kisses from your adoring lycanthrope lover… you thanked yourself for choosing to take the path less traveled.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #bnha smut #bnha x reader #mha smut #jade writes smut #kirishima eijirou x reader #bakugo katsuki #kirishima smut #bakugo smut

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plsimsuchasimp · 4 years ago

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gone (cheating ft. kenma)

an anon asked me to write another version of this post, so here it is. i’m sorry about this, it’s definitely not my best work.

request: “Can you do another cheating fic but with kenma since he is my favorite character”

genre: angst

ft: kenma kozume x gn reader, a little bit of kuroo tetsuro

wc: 1.8k

warnings: fainting, angst, implied cheating

Flopping down on your bed, you picked up your phone and shot off a quick text message to your boyfriend, Kenma.

“hey babe, can we call? it’s been a really long week and I haven’t seen you in forever,” you wrote, pressing the send button with only a moment’s hesitation.

Sighing, you scrolled upwards a bit, reading through the message history. Recently, his texts had been getting shorter and more abrupt, often making excuses when you asked to see him or talk to him.

1 new message. Distracted, you scrolled down to see Kenma’s text.

“sorry can’t i was just about to sleep”

Frowning, you glanced at the top of the screen. 10:53 pm. He never went to bed this early, let alone slept. Your throat constricted, but you tried to brush it off, the thoughts whispering at the back of your head like malicious pixies, insecurities and harsh words. You stared at the simple string of words, wondering what to say. Are you okay? you’ve seemed off recently. No, you were probably just overthinking it.

“okay, have a good night! ily” Read 10:57 pm. No response.

Putting the phone down, you tried to push it to the back of your thoughts, but it nagged at you. Turning on your PC, you logged onto discord and noticed Kenma’s status. He was playing a multiplayer game, in a VC with one other person. Right-clicking, you ignored the feeling of distrust and clicked on the other player’s profile.

You knew her- she was a friend of Kenma’s from school. Kenma had promised you they were just friends, that you had nothing to worry about, but the insecurities crept in again as you realized he’d been spending a lot more time with her instead of you. Biting your lip, you looked back at your phone, the accusing text glaring at you. It seemed innocuous, seemed like you were overreacting. Kenma didn’t really get why you were insecure- he always told you he only had eyes for you, but lately, it didn’t really feel like it.

The last time you two had hung out, he’d laughed at something on his phone, then turned away when you asked to see what it was, muttering something vague about a funny tiktok. You didn’t think much of it at the time, but with thoughts crowding your head, you wondered if it really had been just a video. Kozume had always been distant- you understood that when you started dating him, but was it too much to ask for a scrap of his attention?

You were torn. On one hand, you wanted to trust Kenma, believe that everything he told you was true and he still loved you like he used to. On the other, your gut was telling you there was something off. Praying that he wasn’t hiding anything, you entered a different browser and logged into his Discord account. You’d given each other the passwords to your socials a while ago, your way of showing that you had nothing to hide.

Incorrect login information. The words appeared in red on the screen, the password field outlined in red. You tried again, ensuring that there were no typos, and it still registered as wrong. Your stomach sank, staring at the message on the screen. He changed his password and didn’t tell you. At this point, you knew something was wrong, but you didn’t want to ask him in fear of seeming insecure or clingy, both traits Kenma disliked. Before you could lose yourself further in the swirling tornado of your thoughts, your phone dinged with a new message. It was from Kuroo.

“hey y/n, are you up? we need to talk.”

Brow furrowing, you responded with “yeah, is everything okay?” He read the text, and then the call icon rang at the top of the screen, red and green buttons buzzing gently. You accepted the call, answering with “Hi Kuroo.”

“Hey y/n,” he said, his voice quieter than normal.

“Are you okay?” He sounded off, sad somehow.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. There’s something I need to tell you, though.” You paused for a second, hoping it wasn’t what you thought it was, before he continued. “Kenma- Kenma cheated on you.”

“W-what?” Time seemed to stop. you couldn’t, didn’t want to believe your ears. Your breath caught in your throat, shock freezing your body in place.

“Shit, y/n, I’m so sorry. I just found out.” Kuroo was still talking, but you weren’t hearing him. It seemed impossible, even though you’d seen it coming. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

Startled, you choked out, “Yeah, I’m okay, just a little shocked.” a little was an understatement. “H-how did you find out?”

“Well,” he sighed, “I saw him kiss her behind the cafe yesterday. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was still figuring out what to do.” Guilt laced his words, and you got the feeling there was still something he hadn’t said.

“What else?” From his slight intake of breath, you could tell you’d caught him off guard. He was silent for a moment.

“He’s been texting her on Discord for the past month or so. I think you know her, (f/n)?” You felt your heart crash into your stomach, and your worst fears were confirmed. Switching back onto your computer, you saw that Kenma was still playing the game with the girl, and your stomach clenched.

“Yeah, I know her.” He noticed that your voice was quiet, subdued, and he swallowed.

“Y/n, I’m- I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.” He was silent then, waiting for you to speak.

“No, no, it’s fine,” You said, your voice oddly calm. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Of course. Hey, are you going to be okay?” He asked, unsure what was really happening inside your head.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Before he had a chance to say anything else, you hung up, mind spinning.

Oddly enough, you didn’t feel anything. You knew in the back of your head that this was your way of coping, that the hurt and anger and sadness would come later, but for now you didn’t care. Methodically, you went to all of your socials and blocked Kenma, hesitating only slightly to block his number in your phone.

You shut off your computer and turned your phone to silent, sitting in silence on your bed. Slowly, your eyes filled with tears that spilled down your cheeks, expressionless besides the gleaming tear streaks staining your face. Your shoulders shook, and everything seemed to crash down at once.

Your body couldn’t keep up, the sobs overtaking you until you were lightheaded. The room was spinning and the shining moonlight was glinting through the blinds at odd angles, seeming to distort your vision. You couldn’t breathe, and then everything faded to black.

You woke up a few seconds later with your head on the pillow, dazed and hearing the blood pound through your head. You groaned and lay there for a couple of minutes, letting your breathing slow.

You got up and brushed your teeth, staring at your puffy eyes in the mirror. It hurt, to know the man you loved didn’t feel the same anymore. What did you do wrong? Were you too clingy, not good enough, not there for him enough? Why would he cheat on you?

Guilt vibrated around you, and it brought back the memories of every other time. It must have been your fault- it always was.

Sleep took you uneasily that night, creeping in around your obsessive, painful thoughts and lulling you to distraction.

The next morning at school, you wiped the pain from your face and moved through the day in a haze. You saw Kenma in the hallway, leaning against the lockers on his phone, and avoided eye contact. When you saw her, (f/n), anger and hurt swelled up in your stomach, and you tried to swallow it and avoid lashing out.

Later, Kenma stared at his phone as an error message popped up when he tried to text you. We’re sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is unavailable. A pit formed in his stomach, and he went to his other socials, reaching the same conclusions in other places.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, amber eyes scanning the hallway. You were already gone, though, and he moved through the swarm of people, eyes focused on the exit. Where would you have gone?

When he showed up at your house that afternoon, you were surprised. He doesn’t waste time, showing you his phone and bluntly asking “Why did you block me?” Your eyes widened to see him slouching there, clearly uncomfortable with going out of his way to do this. “Are you angry at me?”

“Kozume, I don’t really want to talk to you right now.” His face twisted at your use of his last name.

“Why not?”

At this point, you sighed, tired of everything. “You cheated on me. That’s why.” Your voice cracks in the last sentence, and the world stops.

His stomach drops as you turn away, the weight of the world on your shoulders. “N-no. Y/n. Please don’t go!”

Kenma’s not good with words, and you understand that. Sometimes, though, it feels like he’s not trying. As he shook his head frantically, chin-length hair swaying around his beautiful face, you could tell he wanted to say something, but he can’t.

“What is there to say, Kozume?” Your eyes were brimming with tears, your heart squeezing at the sight of him.

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean to.” Even he knows how weak this sounds, how pathetic of him, and when he looks back up at you, his eyes are shiny. “I love you.”

His words ring hollow, and you scoff. “Where was that love when you kissed her behind the cafe? Where was it when you were constantly texting her on discord? Where was it when I needed you and you weren’t there?” You shake your head, heartbreak written all over your features. It’s then that he remembers the declined calls, the unanswered texts, the neglect he subjected you to as he pushed you away.

“I hope you’re happy with her, because we’re done.”

He didn’t even have a good reason this time. All he knew was that he wanted you to stay, but he knew he didn’t deserve a second chance. Against his will, a tear slid down his cheek and dropped to the floor, making him sniffle.

There was nothing you wanted more than to pull him into your arms, cry into his shoulder, but you couldn’t. It hurt too much. You stepped back and slammed the door on him for the final time.

Leaning your head against the door, all of your emotions spilled out. You were silently crying, the ache in your chest almost too much to bear. You thought you heard your name outside the door, whispered just loud enough for you to hear, but you just sank down to the floor and let the tears fall.

On the other side of the door, Kenma’s phone buzzed. It was a text from her, and the disgust and anger that filled his stomach at the sight was enough for him to know he’d never forgive himself for hurting you like this.

“I love you.”

a/n: srry for the anticlimatic ending i was just feeling super bad and not in the mood to write but i wanted to get this out here, hope you like it.

#kenma kuzome #kenma x y/n #kenma x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #kozume kenma #kenma angst #angst #kozume angst #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kozume

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tillthelandslide · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, could I please request a fluffy Henry prompt from his POV with the numbers 1 & 14 & 25? 🥺😊

No worries if you have any trouble writing with this request, I’ll just be looking forward to your other writing. But thanks in advance and I hope you have a fantastic day dear!

No idea : Henry Cavill One Shot

A/N: Hi my love, hope this is what you wanted and I hope you enjoy it. My laptop was not working today so I had to type this on my phone. I haven't checked it for typos so I apologise if there is any mistakes.

I hope you (and anyone else reading) enjoys it anyway. Love you all - L

1. Do you have any idea how I feel about you?

14. Just friends don't fuck everyday Yn

25. I can't sleep without you beside me

No idea : Henry Cavill One Shot (based off prompts)

Thinking back, I can't remember a time where I didn't fancy her...fancy... What a juvenile word, I guess the real word is love. I am in love with her. And that in itself was a problem, because we weren't what you'd call 'exclusive'. God knows I want nothing more than to call her my girlfriend but I was too much of a coward to ask her, I wasn't sure if it was what she wanted. This.. Agreement, we had was what I think she wanted.

She was coming round for dinner tonight and to say I was nervous... Well I'd rather be naked in front of a million people than go through with this. I feel its about time I finally tell her how I feel, sure this arrangement is nice but I want more. Im taken away from my thoughts when I hear my doorbell ring and Kals loud bark sounded immediately after, the dog following me as I walked to the door.

"Hi" I say as I open it, a smile immediately appearing on my face when I see her.

"Hi" she says cheerfully, entering my house, dropping to the floor to stroke Kal, the large bear happy to see her.

"I missed you bear" she says as he licks her hand,making her giggle "can't steal all the attention, I've got to give some to your daddy" she says, making my heart beat out of my chest. She grabs my hand, using it pull herself up, a grunt falling from her lips as she did.

"God I'm getting old" she says as she hugs me making me laugh.

"You're younger than me, if you're getting old, what am I?" I ask, making her pull back from the hug.

"Ancient" she says, placing a kiss against my cheek before walking into the living room, plopping down onto the sofa.

"That's rude, don't know why I put up with all this bullying" I joke, sitting down next to her.

"Hmm why do you?" she asks and I smile, shaking my head in disbelief.

"Do you have no idea how I feel about you?" I say, smiling when I see her smirk at me, her lip in between her teeth.

"Care to enlighten me?" she says, as she crosses her arms over her chest. It's only then I realise she's wearing one of my own hoodies.

"You thief, this is mine" I say, poking the matietal of my hoodie.

"Don't change the subject, you were about to say how you feel about me" she says smirking again.

"Yeah... I was" I say nervously making her throw her head back in a laugh.

"I'm joking Hen, you don't have to" she says, before she throws her leg over my thigh, straddling me.

"In fact... We don't have to talk at all" she says as her lips hover over mine.

"Actually we do" I say, making her pull away. I really wanted to kiss her but that needs to wait for now.

"Oh" she says, beginning to move away from me but I hold her in my lap.

"Stay, this is comfortable" I say, making her smile and place a peck to my lips.

"Sorry couldn't resist" she says, a blush creeping onto her face.

"I like you" I blurt out making her mouth open. She's speechless and I'm unsure whether it's the good kind or the bad.

"Say something please" I say, my hand caressing her cheek.

"Henry"

"Say something more than that please love" I chuckle making her laugh which is a good sign.

"I don't know what to say" she says, her mouth falling open again before shutting.

"Say anything"

"I guess I'm a little confused" she says making me furrow my eyebrows.

"Confused? Why are you confused?" I ask curiously. She removed herself from my lap and I begin to be worried as she stands and begins pacing back and forth, her lip in between her teeth again as she crosses her arms over her chest. She's silent again and the beating of my heart is the only noise I can hear and it's making me panic.

"Love please stay still, you're making me nervous" I say, leaning forward on the sofa.

"Let me get this right..."she begins, her eyes flicking to meet mine before she looks back at her feet

"You: The Henry Cavill, like me?" she says her eyes finally meeting mine. I nod before uttering "Yeah. I think you're amazing" I almost cringe at that, why couldn't I be more smooth?

"But... But I thought we were just friends" she says making me chuckle.

"Best friends don't fuck everyday Y/N!" I say, laughing as I stand up, walking to her, placing my hands on her hips to still her movements.

"Yeah... I suppose you're right about that... I just thought that's what you wanted.... What we decided we both wanted" she said, her hand resting against my jaw as she looked at me. She looked so adorable, lines appearing in between her eyebrows her eyes glistening and blown wide.

"I suppose it is what I wanted... For a while... And then" I said, pausing to think "then I fell in love with you" I say, making her gasp as her mouth falls open again, her eyes opening in shock.

"You're in love with me? You say you liked me Henry! Not that you're in love with me!" she says but she's smiling which makes me smile.

"Yeah... I'm not very good at this... But is that really so hard to believe?" I ask and she shakes her head but doesn't look quite sure she means it.

"You're amazing y/n, you're wonderful and funny and kind and talented... And you're drop dead gorgeous and I'm in love with you" there I go again dropping those words. But I truly mean them.

"what do you think?" I say when she doesn't reply.

"I think you're mad" she says laughing to herself before placing a kiss to my lips.

"but I love you too" she says against my lips, making me pull back, this time my eyes are blown wide and I hear her laugh again, that perfect, sweet laugh. I pick her up in my arms, kissing her as I carry her to my room. What follows is the purest form of love making, two beings becoming one, almost as if their souls are intertwined, their bodies wrapped up in one another, pouring nothing but love into the other.

She's lying on her front, her head resting on her arms over the pillow staring into my eyes with a smile on her face. I sweep the hairs out of her eyes before gently supporting her face in my hand, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Be my girlfriend please?" I ask and feel her nod before she whispered "of course". I feel myself drifting into a blissful sleep, before I'm awoken by rustling on her side of the bed, I open my eyes and see her blurry figure picking up my jumper.

"Stay, I can't sleep without you beside me" I say sleepily, reaching out for her, my hand lands on her waist and her body lies back down next to me, my arm wrapping around her and pulling her back into me as my eyes struggle to stay open.

"Always. I love you bear" she says and I feel the feather like touch of her lips against my forehead as my eyes shut.

"I love you too" I mumble before sleep consumes me.

Tag List: @harrysthiccthighss @thereisa8ella @magdelen69 @henrythickcavill @hc-geralt-23 @kissthatlifeaway @darkbooksarwin @august-w-princess @speakerforthedead0 @pixie1484 @constip8merm8 @tigerbroadwaybaby @agniavateira @summersong69 @aestheticallywinchester @stephartrave @al-wiisa @henrycavillfanpage @intenselikes @anat2507 @ellixthea @aguspalazzo @1ookatthestars00 @wintersoldierslut @michelehansel @cavill-sass @thecavillstache @xelizabethvalentinex @sesamepancakes @tumblnewby @thefangirlsblog @sugarmelonwater @madbaddic7ed @bakika @abundanceofsoph @runawayolives @kellbell44 @dashingcavill @paosesposts @006819red @youcouldbemysilversprings @emelinelovesjc @mrmiyagislittletrees @mali1mugan2 @barbiejean126 @ellemcavill @lharrietg @beck07990

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#henry cavill #henry #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x yn #Henry cavill x you #Henry cavill x yn #Henry x Yn #Henry x you #Henry x reader #henry cavill fics #henry cavill requests #Henry cavill pov #Henry cavill prompt #Henry cavill imagine #Henry cavill imagines #Henry cavill headcanon list

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comphersjost · 4 years ago

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All for You | 2 ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

hi, its 3 am, and i couldnt stop until i finished this. ik i promised yall another part on thursday so im sorry this is later then i was hoping. i hope you enjoy it :) i took a different approach to brady here than ive normally seen, let me know how you guys like it!!

It’s been 4 and a half months since that day in the basement. With Christmas just days away and Matty on a flight back home, you and Brady take a risk, leaving Matt to wonder where he went wrong.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: this is really angsty yall, like actually, smut, sir kink, brady is Mean, uh moral ambiguity sorta (thinking abt someone else during sex), d/s undertones sorta, unprotected sex (be safe), oral (m on f), some choking, alcohol (wine), sex under the influence, pls ignore any typos fkakldfa

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

Even with how utterly fucked the situation was that Matt had found himself in, there was one thing he couldn't stop thinking about. It was the way his logo and his last name and his number rested against your back that drove him insane.

It was burned into his retinas.

Even now, on a plane back home to St. Louis it was all he could think about. Every time he closed his eyes it was you you you.

It had been months since he had seen you. Nearly 5 months had passed since that night in the basement. And it killed him.

He was in a slump. Everyone knew it. He knew it, his teammates knew it, the damn front office knew it. And it was because of you.

His teammates had quickly put together your absence at any sort of gathering and Matty’s sulking. 4 and a half months later he resembles a shell of the man he used to be.

He had called, of course he had. Over and over, hoping, pleading, praying to any deity that existed out there to hear from you again.

Matthew’s prayer was answered one day, when he had come out of practice to find a text from you. His heart rate accelerated, time felt like molasses as his phone camera ID’d his face. As the facial recognition unlocks his phone, the message is revealed.

Please stop calling me. And tell the boys to stop too.

The text tears his heart to shreds. It was the last straw. Before he had been mopey, but now - now he was spiraling. His play was abysmal - a shit show on the ice really. He drank until he blacked out every time, not even looking at another girl.

He had contemplated going to your work, but decided a player in the middle of a slump having a restraining order filed against him would not go over well with the Flames management. Every time he went out for the most mundane task, groceries, dry cleaning, he couldn’t help the hope that he would run into you. Even if you didn’t give him the time of day it would be enough for him to just see you.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Not for lack of trying, though. Matthew had been to all the spots you used to frequent—the grocery store you love, the clubs you two used to go to, even the 7/11 you had both been to after the both of you got so drunk that you could barely walk. You weren’t on the flight you had booked back together. In fact, he had no idea about anything that’s been going on in your life, his mom just told him that you’re okay and that was all he got.

Now it was 3 days before Christmas and the idea of seeing you again both filled him with dread and also made him feel more alive than he had in months. He was equally utterly terrified and buzzing with excitement. His hands itched to hold you again, though he knew there was a bigger chance of you slapping him than letting him kiss you the way he wanted.

As Matt stares out the window at the clouds, he lets his mind wander. He wonders how you're doing; are you okay? After everything that happened did you pick up right where you left off? He wondered if you missed him, if he was on your mind as much as you were on his.

He still wondered if you loved him back.

“Mom, I really just, I really want to stay home and do nothing tonight okay? I'm tired.”

Your mom rolls her eyes at your attempt at getting out of going over to Tkachuk’s house tonight. You’d been trying since 9 am.

“Honey, I know you said you and Matthew don’t hang out anymore, but he won't be there!” she tried reassuring you, “Brady and Taryn will be there to hang out with you until Taryn goes to spend the night with the Johnson’s.” That made you groan even louder - you had to be alone with Brady. Great, now you had to steel yourself for a night of utter humiliation.

Brady isn't even downstairs yet when you enter the Tkachuk’s threshold, Chantal’s call for her kids brings Taryn down in an instant, ever excited to see you.

“Y/N!” she squeals, running down the stairs, “You're here, you're here!”

“Y/N?” you hear faintly, and then the slam of Brady’s door and rapid footsteps. He nearly slides down the stairs, freezing at the bottom when he spots you. Taryn lets you out of her embrace, leaving you to stare wide-eyed at Brady. Unsure how to navigate your way out of this situation, you keep staring at Brady as your parents and Taryn follow Chantal to the kitchen.

“Hi, B,” you say meekly, unsure of how he’ll receive you after so long.

“Hi, buttercup,” he responds, a bright smile pulling at his lips. It’s all he needs to take a few quick steps in your direction and draw you into his arms.

“I missed you so much, buttercup,” he whispers against your hairline, “More than you know.”

Despite his warm welcome, the night is tense. You still don't know what he thinks of that night, not wanting to ask him in front of your families - well, most of your families anyways. You didn't even let yourself think about what would happen when you saw Matthew at the next dinner party. You sat at the table and ate your food, barely speaking to Taryn and answering Keith and Chantal’s inquiries about your life in Calgary with a tight smile.

You’re so zoned out trying to make time go faster you barely register your parents telling you that they’re going out with Keith and Chantal.

“Mom, wait-”

“Y/N,” she warns, looking at you with that look, and you sigh in resignation. She smiles at you, a silent promise to make it up to you.

Taryn had left 30 minutes ago, announcing that she had somewhere to be before leaving as quickly as she could, uncomfortable with the palpable tension between you and Brady.

You watch your parents leave, wincing for a moment at what awaits you when you turn around. To your surprise, what greets you is a glass of wine hovering in front of your face.

You take the peace offering gingerly from Brady’s hand with a tiny smile. And it’s a really bad idea, the way you let him keep refilling your glass, and his own, let him draw you in during The Grinch on the couch, let him hold you tight under the blanket that was covering the both of you.

You can hear your common sense screaming in the back of your mind when you snuggle closer into Brady’s chest. It’s near 11 now, and your parents are still together, laughing and drinking in the living room of your house before Keith and Chantal are supposed to head to the airport. You're cuddled up to Brady, shifting every few minutes to try and get closer, even though nearly every inch of your body is practically glued to him.

He hums when you shift again, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Gotta go home,” you say, your voice muffled against him. It’s not like you haven't spent the night with him before; you just haven't since that night.

“Probably,” he mumbles, arms tightening around you. “But I don't want you to.” And like, you've had way too much wine and you should probably go before Matty gets here cause you really can't handle that conversation like this so you push off of Brady, standing up but stumbling, wine sloshing over the lip of the glass and splattering on your pants.

“Fuck,” you hiss, the red wine surely staining the gray leggings you wore. Brady takes the glass from you, placing it on the table and stabilizing you with his other hand.

“Go change upstairs,” he says softly, looking up at you with those eyes you're such a sucker for. “Stay.”

And - how can you say no to that? You can't, because it's Brady and you're so damn easy for him it didn't matter what he’d asked you to do, you would do it without a second thought.

That's how you find yourself stumbling to Brady’s bedroom, barely finding your way to his bathroom to change out of your stained leggings and wipe yourself down. You rummage through Brady’s dresser, searching for - there it was. A pair of Brady’s sweatpants from high school that he stopped wearing approximately 2 months after he got them [mostly because he couldn't find them (mostly mostly because they were either in your room or on your body)].

You place the worn sweats on top of Brady’s dresser, fumbling to close the drawer and find your balance. Someone clears their throat and your head snaps towards the doorway. Brady is leaning against the doorframe and through the fuzziness of the wine, you register the thought that he looks so good like this - in his comfort zone.

“Hey,” he says, pushing off the doorframe towards you.

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes too focused on Brady moving towards you.

“We should give it a shot,” Brady husks, hooded eyes trailing down your body and back up again. Suddenly the room feels too cold, the oversized sweater you had on stopped at the top of your thighs, barely covering the pale pink panties you were wearing. The sweater paws gave an air of innocence around you that Brady knew was fake.

“What are you talking about?” you whisper meekly, both concerned about what was going on in that head of his, and intrigued.

“You know how you feel about me,” Brady states - which isn't entirely true anymore, but you don’t interrupt. “I don’t know how I feel about you, and neither of us actually knows if this-” he motions between the two of you “-is it for us, so I say, we give it a shot and see how it feels. Let’s give it until we go back?”

When did he get so close to you? Brady’s taking more steps forward, and you’re taking as many steps back, until the back of your thighs hit the corner of the bed and you instinctively sit.

Which - in retrospect, was probably a mistake, because now Brady towers over you even more than before and now - you’re really intrigued. His fingers trail over your jaw, thumb swiping gently across your bottom lip.

You part your lips out of habit, eyes widen when you realize what you’ve done. Brady laughs darkly when he catches your slip up, stroking your face affectionately.

His thumb slips between your lips for a moment, and your eyes flutter shut as your cheeks hollow around him.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, and you do, opening your eyes to stare up at him again; Brady, your best friend. He smiles proudly, murmuring a soft, “Good girl.”

The words are uttered at the same time he withdraws from your warm mouth, wrapping his fingers gently around your throat. You can’t help the whine that escapes, mortified when Brady’s grin widens.

He leans down, mouth next to your ear to whisper, “Matty always did like it when they’re needy. Needy girls drive us crazy.”

Really, the thought of Matt shouldn’t be driving you crazy, but it is. And when you feel Brady’s nose nudge against yours, his mouth just millimeters from you - your biggest fantasy for nearly 20 years - you knew you were going to hell.

A needy moan escapes your throat before Brady’s hand tightens around your throat and you give in, looping your arms around his neck. You pull him down to meet your lips, nearly clawing at him in your desperation.

Faintly, you think that this is a bad idea, this would only hurt you more later on.

But the longer you kissed him, the less you cared about the consequences. You wanted - you needed Brady so fucking bad right now you were willing to deal with whatever the aftermath presented you with. Brady’s other hand finds the bottom of your sweater, slipping underneath the fabric to lay against your rib cage.

You needed more.

“Brady,” you whine as you break away from his lips, tugging at his hoodie. “Need you.” Brady chuckles darkly, tugging you by your throat to kiss him again.

“Ask nicely,” he husks against your mouth.

“Please,” you whimper again, pulling harder at the fabric to just get him closer. “Please, Brady, I need you so bad.”

“Try again.” Brady pushes you - nearly tosses you really - further up the bed with a snarl, ignoring the yelp you let out at the suddenness of his mood shift. You stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. You're unsure of your next words.

“Please…Daddy?”

A cocky smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Not quite.”

You think for a moment, watching him bring his hand behind his back and pull his shirt over his head. The dark look he gives you makes you shrink, as if to say ‘Still?’.

Suddenly your eyes light up, and Brady can see it. He's already on the bed, crawling up your body as you attempt to control your breath. The words are barely out before he's kissing you again.

“Please sir?”

Brady groans into your mouth when he hears you say the words, slotting himself between your thighs to grind his hips against yours. You mewl into his mouth when his clothed cock catches against your clit, pushing your hips up against him for more. He growls as he pulls away again, swatting your thigh as a warning.

“Careful, princess,” Brady warns - voice low and dangerous - and his grip on your hip so tight you knew there would be bruises in the morning, “or I won't be.” His words are thick with intention, both a threat and a promise.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe shakily, letting yourself fall against the sheets to look up at him.

Brady’s eyes soften for a moment, reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “Hi,” he whispers, leaning down to steal a kiss.

“Hi,” comes your response. He steals another kiss before pulling away again, and you can't help but think that he looks beautiful like this.

I love you. I'm in love with you.

You want to say it, the voice inside you is screaming it. It’s screaming for you to say it, and Brady is looking at you almost like he wants you to too.

The feeling of his hands pushing your sweater up distracts you from your plight. Brady’s movement is slow, and he’s looking at you intensely, giving you time to stop him. You only nod, and the softness is gone as soon as it had come. You lift your arms to help him bring the material over your head. He tosses the sweater to the side, catching your wrists when you reach for him. He guides them back over your head, smirking as you suppress a shudder when he leans in a whispers against your mouth. “Be a good girl and keep your hands there princess.”

You nod quickly, grasping the sheets in anticipation. Another slap to your thigh has you rethinking.

“I’m sorry!” you gasp. “Yes, sir.”

Brady hums in acknowledgment, kissing down your throat until he’s staring up at you from the valley between your breasts. You whine softly when he pulls a nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the harden peak before soothing it with his tongue. His hand is pinching and pulling at your other nipple, making your noises significantly louder. He alternates, playing with your nipples until they're swollen and sensitive and sore.

He sits back on his heels to look at you, hands on your knees now, sliding up your thighs. His eyes roam your body unabashedly, while his fingers play with the waistband of your panties. There's a burning look in his eyes as he says, “You're gorgeous. You're so fucking beautiful.”

You don't know why hearing him say it makes you tear up. Brady had told you that you were pretty before, that you cleaned up nice, always telling you how hot you were when he'd see you dressed up before events. He was your own personal hype man but he'd never called you beautiful.

Not like this.

Not like Matty.

The thought makes your blood run cold.

“Please,” you mewl, starting to reach for Brady before remembering what he told you. Your hands fly back above your head, twisting in the sheets, whispering, “I’m sorry, sir, I forgot.”

Brady smiles softly, slipping his finger under the waistband of your panties, tugging on it before letting it snap back against your skin. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss softly at your stomach. “Trying so hard to be good for me.” He shuffles himself backwards as he kisses his way down your body, sliding your panties down your legs at the same time until they've fallen to the floor.

“Wait,” you say softly, causing Brady to pause, his expression quizzical. “Please, I need you.”

Brady grins wickedly. “Just a taste princess.”

It turns out, ‘a taste’ actually means Brady edging you with his tongue until you were nearly crying. He's brought you to the brink three times now, each time getting you closer and closer before pulling away. At this point he's holding your hips down and your hands are as tangled in the sheets as you could get them, not wanting the repercussions of disobeying.

Brady’s tongue is sliding through your folds again when you finally break.

“Please!” you sob, tears finally sliding down your cheeks as your back arches from the pleasure. “Please, Brady, please, sir, please please, I- I need - please just - fuck - please.”

Brady hums against your cunt, the vibrations tearing a scream from your throat. Suddenly the warmth of Brady’s mouth is gone, leaving you chasing him with a buck of your hips. He pins you back down again easily, his lips glistening as he smirks. You hate the way the sleazy look on his face does it for you.

It reminds you of Matt.

You whine again, wiggling your hips as much as you could in Brady’s grip. “Please just fuck me,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel his lips press against your hip, smiling against your skin.

“Anything my girl wants, she gets,” he murmurs against your skin.

My girl. The words echo over and over again in your head. My girl my girl my girl.

Two words you've been waiting years to hear come out of his mouth, and the only thing you could think of was how you liked it better when Matty said it.

Your eyes stay shut as Brady kisses up your body, fingertips dancing over your skin. His mouth finds yours, emptying your brain of all other thoughts but him.

“You ready for me, pretty girl?” he asks you, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek gently, wiping your tears away. Your eyes flutter open, to look at him, nodding as you bite your lip. His thumb tugs your lip out from between your teeth as you feel the tip of his dick brush against your thigh. You didn't even realize that he had taken off the rest of his clothes, but you weren't complaining. Not with him so close like this.

“Please,” you whimper, and after stealing another kiss, Brady sinks into your heat.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, gripping the back of your thigh to spread your legs even further. “You're so fucking tight, fuck you feel so good.” Once he’s bottomed out, Brady leans down to kiss you, swallowing your desperate noises.

He gives you little time to adjust, and really - you don't need it considering the way he tortured you with his mouth and fingers. You're whining into his mouth as his hips move against you, the drag off his cock inside you so fucking good after being denied like you were.

You're close already, and Brady knows, delivering sharp thrusts and hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

He finally breaks from your lips, breathing heavily as his hips slam into your cunt. “I'm so close,” you tell him, gripping the sheets above your head so hard you feel like you might rip them. “Please, please let me cum, sir, please.”

It seems like Brady finally thinks you've had enough torture, because he brings his hand from your thigh to your clit, rubbing quick tight circles. “You've been so good for me baby,” he grunts, his other hand holding him up so he can look down at you. “Come on baby, you can touch me now, come on princess, cum for me.”

That's all it takes to send you over the edge. Your hands come flying from above your head to grasp at Brady, his shoulders, his back, tangling in his hair, anything to just touch him. You cry out as your orgasm hits, your back arching under Brady as he relentlessly fucks you through it.

You faintly register Brady’s filthy encouragement in your ears, telling you how good you are for doing what he says, for not touching him this whole time, for cumming for him like this. You writhe against him as you feel him spill into you, grunting as he fucks into you, chasing his orgams with shallow, sloppy thrusts. It feels like you've been riding your high forever; your vision is blurry when you finally come down.

Brady’s breath is hot on your neck, his hands stroking your skin gently as the two of you catch your breath. He shushes you gently as you moan when he pulls out of you. Brady practically collapses next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest. He peppers kisses across your skin, nudging his nose against your cheek to grab your attention.

You can barely turn your head, suddenly so tired you feel like you'll pass out right that second. “Hi,” he murmurs, kissing you gently. You hum and bury your face in his neck.

“‘M sleepy,” you mumble against his skin, eliciting a soft laugh from him.

“Then sleep,” he says, before smirking devilishly, “don't worry there's lots more where that came from, but in the morning.” You snort at his words, squeezing the back of his neck before burying your fingers in his curls.

“Night, B,” you mumble.

“Goodnight, buttercup.”

Matthew was going to kill his brother. He was going to straight up murder him. On top of not being there to pick him up from the airport, he also didn't answer any texts or calls from Matt.

So yeah, when Matthew got home, he was going to kill Brady. When the Uber finally pulls up in front of him, Matthew is nearly halfway done with his plan to get away with it.

He fiddles with his phone as the driver pulls away from the curb, scanning the random notifications that he had popped up when he got off the plane. It's when he opens up Instagram that he really pays attention, the 3 stories in a row at the top of his feed catching his eye.

Taryn’s, yours, and Brady’s. Against his better judgement, he taps Taryn’s magenta-rimmed profile picture. The story takes a moment to load, but when it does, he sees a picture of you in front of the Tkachuk’s Christmas tree. You had your arms out in a ‘ta-da’ fashion, the fingers barely poking out through the sleeves of your sweater. Taryn’s caption reads “didn’t need an angel for the tree cause we already got @y/n/y/l/n”. He can't help but smile fondly, so distracted by how cute you look that he just stares at you until the time is up - but not before pressing on the screen so he could screenshot the photo.

Your first story was a repost of Taryn’s, a simple white heart emoji in the bottom corner. The second was a shot of the TV in the Tkachuk’s living room displaying the Grinch’s title. The caption reads “heart grows two sizes bigger when i’m home :)”. The location is tagged as St. Louis, with Taryn and Brady tagged in the corner of the photo. The third post makes his blood run cold, it's a video of you and Brady, your back against his chest as you lay on the couch, the caption the cross-eyed emoji and Brady’s handle. Brady is facing away from the camera in the beginning of the video, your eyebrows raised as you wait for him to notice. When he does he laughs and reaches for your phone. The video cuts off there.

Matthew taps the left side of his screen to replay it, an unpleasant feeling twisting in his gut. He doesn't want to watch Brady’s story, but he taps the right side of his screen anyways. It's a photo of you on the couch, one knee pulled up to your chest with the other in Brady’s lap, and a glass of wine in your hand. Your hair is piled into a messy bun on top of your head as you wink at the camera and make a peace sign with your free hand, tongue peaking out of the corner of your mouth.

Matt screenshots the picture.

He’s angry; angry because his brother left him stranded at the airport. Angry because he said he hadn't spoken to you either, that you didn't answer any of his texts and calls since that night. He's angry because Brady managed to get you back, and Matt didn't.

Matty’s angry because he loves you, and he's pretty sure you still love Brady.

When the car finally pulls up to the house, he’s almost relieved. He notes that the lights are off downstairs as he lets himself in, pausing when he sees your shoes still by the door. The glow of the TV is visible in the living room, and as Matt pads towards it, the uneasy feeling grows.

There's two partially filled glasses of wine on the coffee table, as well as yours and Brady’s phones. He taps on Brady’s phone, revealing the unread texts and unanswered calls from Matt, as well as an unread text from Chantal, telling Brady that he would have to be the one to pick up Matty from the airport.

The pit in Matt’s stomach only deepens as he climbs the stairs, duffle bag in hand. He goes slowly, trying to prolong his inevitable heartbreak, but it doesn't change what he sees at the top.

Brady’s bedroom door is half open, the light from the hallway streaming in.

Matthew knows it's a bad idea when he takes one, two, three steps and he's in front of Brady’s door. He takes a deep breath and pokes his head inside the room. The sight nearly knocks the wind out of him.

You're tucked under Brady’s arm, your nose squished against his cheek and your hand curled around his neck. He can see the bare skin of your back and stomach pressed against Brady’s bare torso. A blanket covers the both of you from the waist down. Brady’s hair is a mess, and so is yours, and suddenly Matt feels nauseous.

He feels like he would do anything - anything - to make the feeling in his chest go away. It feels like pressure, too much pressure, in his chest, and he nearly clutches his heart. The blood is rushing in his ears, he can't breathe, he feels dizzy.

Why does it hurt so much?

Before he can think it through he’s stumbling to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him, tossing the duffle back on the floor near his bed. His hands are reaching for the backpack on his shoulders and pulling out his laptop before it even hits the ground. He doesn't even sit, placing the laptop on his bed and bending down to type into the search bar.

He barely pays attention to the final amount when he hits “confirm” - he has more money than he knows what to do with anyways. The moment it’s done he sighs, watching the Gmail notification light up on his phone.

“Flight Confirmation, December 23rd, 2020 11:25 pm

St. Louis, Missouri to Calgary, Canada”

#hehe #matthew tkachuk #brady tkachuk #calgary flames #ottawa senators #nhl imagine #hockey #smut #matthew tkachuk imagine #brady tkachuk imagine #angst #all for you series

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stellar-imagines · 4 years ago

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SCENARIO REQUEST: ❝boyfriend supporter.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia ] [ Characters: Todoroki Shouto ]

「Scenario of Todoroki with an S/O who goes to another school and studying to become a doctor. She comes to visit UA during the Sports Festival to cheer for him.」

TODOROKI SHOUTO

"You got the tickets to UA's Sports Festival!?" your friend exclaimed. You motioned her to keep her voice down and sipped your miso soup before gently placing it back down onto your tray.

"Aren't those like really hard to get, [First Name]-chan?" one of your other friends asked.

You find yourself laughing lightly at that. Like your friend mentioned, its something that's very difficult to obtain. Before there were quirks, sports fans would obsess over the Olympic Games. When Quirks became apart of the world, the UA Sports Festival became the most-watched sporting event and surpassed the Olympic Games. You had managed to miraculously score a ticket to the UA Sports Festival. This was a popular event where billions of people would stop whatever they're doing to watch or even watch while doing their work. Well, it's one of the biggest events in Japan so its no surprise.

It was really hard to obtain and at this very moment, you were really glad that you decided to buy it the moment it was being sold online. What's more, you promised Todoroki that you'd be there to watch him. You have been dating him for a year or so, being classmates in middle school. It was really surprising to know that aloof and quiet Todoroki actually liked you. The two of you happened to be paired up for countless group projects, were in the same class for 3 years straight and often sat nearby each other. Your relationship with him was quite slow but you really love it.

"I guess having a boyfriend who studies in UA makes it easier." your friend teased you, giving you a nudge. Your face turned a bit pink as you lightly punched her shoulder.

"That doesn't have to do anything with me getting the tickets!" you exclaimed, keeping your tone in a reasonable volume to not disturb the people around you.

When the day actually came, you sent a text to your boyfriend to inform him that you'll be watching at the stands. Your parents told you to be careful when you left the house and you understood why you should be. There were a lot of people, like a huge sea of people! It feels like you're inside the commute during rush hour. As much as you hated cramped spaces, you had to grow used to this because you paid for it and you weren't going to miss your boyfriend's big day. The moment you got to your seat, you let out a sigh of relief and placed your bag on your lap. You never really had the passion to become a hero like your boyfriend and were content admiring them from a distance.

You weren't blessed with a quirk like Todoroki's which was hero-material. Though, you still want to help people like heroes do and you chose to study to be a doctor. You looked at your phone before the event started and saw that Todoroki replied to your message with a simple, 'I'll see you after the match.' Watching the upcoming generation of heroes battle their hearts out and showcasing their quirks had you sitting at the edge of your seat. That was so like him. Most of the students from the Heroes Department had made it to the fighting tournament. You knew that your boyfriend has issues with his quirk and his father. And you can't help but pray that he will be just fine.

Honestly, you almost felt your heart stop at Todoroki and Midoriya's match.

The stage was far too damaged from the battle and it was delayed until they fixed the stage. Poor Midoriya had hurt himself so badly in that frightening battle. As a doctor in training, you were able to tell that he has broke his arm and that definitely needs surgery. You hoped that boy will be just fine. On the other hand, Todoroki looked a bit sad and you wished you can go comfort him. He's not only fighting with these people but also himself.

The finals were probably the second most terrifying this you've witnessed today. The boy your boyfriend was against, Bakugou -- looked like a strong person, you had been watching closely on the other matches and can tell. You watched as Bakugou clawed out of the mass of ice by using his explosions. They were both strong but you could tell that Bakugou has the slight edge over Todoroki. If he had used his fire, he could've turned the situation around. But, you could see it in his eyes, he was unsure and he looked ready to give up.

You finally found your voice at that moment.

"Don't lose, Shouto!" you were the only person in the stands screaming. Your throat burned and you could feel everyone's gaze on you but you didn't care. Todoroki's eyes met yours for the first time throughout the entire festival. His eyes widened a fraction and he seemed to start igniting his flames. You couldn't see him as you were too busy catching your breath.

By the end of the battle, Bakugou had emerged as the victor. You were sad or disappointed, you were glad that he heard you and hoped that he was okay. When the award ceremony ended, everyone began to leave but you stayed by the entrance, clutching onto your backpack. You looked at your phone again and saw that Todoroki had told you that he will pick you up by the entrance. You put on your backpack and waited patiently. The moment you saw his red-white hair, you jumped onto him which earned a grunt from the male. You held his hands in your own.

"Are you okay? The last fight was amazing! I'm super proud of you, did you get your wounds treated?" you asked, examining his handsome face. You cupped his cheeks and squished them together. Todoroki knows that you're worried about him, you always had been the one patching up his Todoroki gave you a nod.

"Yeah. I'm okay."

"Oh?"

"You're the girl who was cheering Todoroki at the stands when he was fighting Bakugou!"

"You're so lucky, man! You already have fans! Guess this is what being handsome and strong is like."

Todoroki had turned around to see his classmates slowly leaving the stadium too. You quickly hid behind your boyfriend, suddenly embarrassed that you had people watching you. A few seconds passed by and before you knew it, you were surrounded by the students of Class 1-A. You had never been this close with such amazing people before -- of course, let's not talk about your lovely boyfriend. It was quite embarrassing how they remembered you from that one little incident during the sports festival. You were about to protest and introduce yourself properly as his girlfriend.

"Hey, Todoroki, who's this girl?" a girl, you recalled her name was Ashido was next to you. Her closeness made you squeak in surprise and cling onto Todoroki even more.

"Hey, Ashido, you're scaring her. You should learn not to step into people's comfort zone so casually." It was Kirishima who told the pink-haired girl to back off and you were grateful that he did.

"Is she your friend, Todoroki?"

"Introduce us!"

"Hey, nice to meet you! What's your name?"

You were overwhelmed. They all seemed to be very nice and friendly but having a number of people around you and asking you questions at the same time made your head spin. At this point, you couldn't even remember what was the question.Todoroki slipped his hand into yours, gently squeezing as if to calm you down.

"This is my girlfriend."

There was a moment of silence before a collective gasp was heard.

"Girlfriend!?" they all had screamed in unison.

"N-Nice to meet you! I'm [Last Name] [First Name] from Sakurazaka Medical Academy." you bowed and stood next to Todoroki. The atmosphere was silent and you were feeling a bit nervous because everyone still had their eyes on you ― something you weren't really used to. You expected them to be a bit quieter this time but they weren't. Everyone seemed to be pretty amazed that you were going to such a prestigious school and aiming to become a doctor.

"Please give me some time with [First Name]. I promised that I will be walking her home." Todoroki intervened. You felt his tug your hand and pull you along with him. His classmates said goodbye, giving the two of you a small wave. Some of them seem to be jealous of how smooth Todoroki was, especially the short student who was muttering to himself.

"Thanks for coming all the way here." Todoroki said, as you both walked hand in hand.

"It's not a big deal. I just thought you needed some encouragement." you smiled gently at him.

There were a lot of things he wanted to tell you. The reason why held back in the finals, why he decided not to use his flames to win the festival. These were the things that he has never told you before. What if you think that he was being ridiculous? It was a sensitive topic to Todoroki. You had accepted him without knowing his past, what happened with his family, and the main reason he has never actually talked about his own family. You glanced over at him only to see that he seemed to be struggling to say something.

"Shouto." your voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"You don't have to force yourself."

You always knew what to say. You always knew what's going on with him without him having to voice it out loud. You were such an understanding, kind and loving person. He wonders if he actually deserves you or not. For a moment, his eyes soften and you could see the love in his eyes.

"Thank you." he smiled gently.

When you returned the smile and told him you loved him, he knew. He knew that he was worthy of your love.

Total: 1668 words Published: 14.09.2020

Thank you for requesting! ｡٩(ˊᗜˋ)و*｡ Kinda want to finish all requests before break ends.... Hope you liked it! ― author Lou

Thank you for requesting it! We hope you enjoyed this! ― author Natsuki

Requests areopen! Matchups are closed!

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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beewolfwrites · 3 years ago

Text

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Four: Guessing Games

@cheshiya @tenseoyong @szallejhscorner @something-more-original-please @ofsunsetsandpoetries @nek0dzuken @allozaur @serenzippity

I’m sorry if there’s any typos or mistakes in this. Some chapters are just harder to write, and I end up repeating words over and over haha. If you spot any, do let me know!

As always, I’ll leave the AO3 link here. And I hope you like it!

--------------------------------------------------

The Latin alphabet.

The message could be written in any language from English to Spanish, Czech or even Latin itself.

It could mean anything.

Unlike An, Headband or Pigtails, I had the advantage, and I could still save us. Except I had no idea where to start, and the steady pressure of the game was already settling on my shoulders like a thick fog.

The Queen was smiling at me from the other gallows. I understood now, the way her eyes had lingered on me back in the reception. She probably hadn’t accounted for a foreigner to be here – after all, her game was intrinsically designed for native Japanese speakers. And yet that smile, the way the corners of her eyes crinkled ever so slightly; she was still confident.

And she should be. She already knows I can’t read morse code.

‘I don’t mean to rush you,’ said Pigtails, ‘but do you think you’ll be able to decode some of it?’ Her previous hope had wilted away, and she was now watching me with apprehension.

The message glared at me from the screen, nonsensical and confusing. The dots and dashes were swarming, melting into one dotted mass that darkened the room. My arms and legs felt detached, swinging from this noose like a doll. So many people had died. The teenage girl, the business man, Pink Scrunchie, countless players accused of being witches... I wasn’t able to save any of them.

And now, four more lives would be added to the list.

‘Stop panicking.’

I jumped at the sharpness of An’s voice. The dots and dashes returned to their screen. My hands and legs were still intact, still moving.

‘Take a deep breath and focus,’ she instructed.

Swallowing, I breathed in and out shakily. My chest felt hollow, and at the same time, it was crawling with jitters. ‘How can you be so calm? 何を知っている分からない.’ I don’t know what I’m doing.

‘Yes, you do. Chishiya brought you to the Beach for a reason.’

Chishiya?

That was why she trusted me?

I couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh; no matter how much I loved him, what he did at the Beach, the way he had almost betrayed me, it was still painful to think about.

‘違う.’ You’re wrong. I didn’t exactly have the vocabulary to explain properly, but I was sure they’d get the gist. ‘苣屋は私を使ってトランプの盗むしていた. それが唯一の理由だった.’ Chishiya was using me to steal the cards. That was the only reason.

An’s lips parted in surprise. Headband and Pigtails were whispering in low voices. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but from their tones it was clear they didn’t think too highly of Chishiya.

‘So that’s what really happened,’ An muttered, filling in the rest of the blanks herself. ‘It was hard to believe Arisu could be capable of doing something like that.’ She shook her head slowly, processing the new information. ‘I suppose it no longer matters, since the Beach is gone now. But Chishiya still made a good decision bringing you to us. I’ve heard about your games, and I believe you’re more capable than you think.’

I remembered my conversation with Chishiya the day before the second stage, when he told me I would be good at Diamonds. Back then, he was wrong. Just looking at the dots and dashes on the screen, I knew this game was beyond me. And yet, it would be nothing more than a simple brainteaser for someone like him.

I wonder, what would he do? How would he approach this game?

I tried to picture his response to a morse code message. I tried to imagine his methods of breaking it down logically. But even so, it was impossible to understand how his brain worked. He was totally different to me. He was rational and analytical, able to uncover a solution to even the most complex situations. All I could do was notice things. I wasn’t Chishiya, nor would I ever be. And right now, was he wandering the streets looking for me? Probably not. Knowing him, he might have even gone straight to the Jack of Diamonds venue.

No. That can’t be true.

He cared. I knew that. I’d felt his fingers playing with my hair whenever I drifted in and out of sleep during the night. I’d witnessed that unreadable expression of his when he first saw the bruises Niragi left. I’d felt his hands tearing me away from the balcony edge when...

‘If we were in a game together, and say, someone pointed a gun at me, would you do that? As in, would you stand back and watch?’

‘I don’t know.’

My vision glassed over at the memory. Chishiya, you...

You liar.

I rubbed away the tears and tried to hold my chin up higher. ‘みんな、ごめんね. 今大丈夫.’ I’m sorry everyone. It’s okay now.

There were only fifty-two minutes left. The Queen, who had remained silent this whole time, was watching on with a vague, academic intrigue. Despite the pristine neatness of her olive suit and her black shoes, she was relaxed, raising her delicate eyebrows as I looked at her squarely.

‘You said before that you might be able to answer some of our questions, so I want to make a deal.’

‘What kind of deal?’ Her eyes glinted as if I’d just proposed a new game – as if I’d made this even more fun for her.

The drawing of the gallows was still waiting, empty, on the second screen. ‘If we figure out this message and clear the game, you have to answer my questions.’

She took the time to consider it. ‘I suppose that’s fair,’ she said. ‘One of us will die here, so it hardly matters anymore. It’s a deal.’

I’d said those same words to Chishiya, and I had no intention of breaking our promise here in this library. With a little more confidence now, I analysed the coded message closely. Normally in a game of Hangman, vowels were a first choice because of how often they were used. But we could only pick two.

What’s the most used vowel in the Latin alphabet?

Most people would assume it was A, but if I had to make a guess, I’d probably say E. Lots of languages with a Latin alphabet, like French, Spanish and Italian, used words like el, es, e, and est. But if E was the most common vowel, would that make it too obvious a choice?

I chanced a look at the Queen. She was smiling, not in a manipulative or secretive way, but as if she was quietly supporting us from the sidelines. It was peculiar. There was a chance she had purposely avoided E because of how often it was used, and I wouldn’t put it past her – she was still alive for a reason.

So what’s the second most common?

U was a no-go. Out of all the vowels it was definitely the least popular. A would be far too obvious as well. It would have to be a gamble between I and O. There were just forty-eight minutes left, and there was no time to waste hesitating between them.

Pick one, pick one.

‘If it’s okay with everyone,’ I said, ‘I’m going to choose O.’

Pigtails and Headbands looked unsure, most likely because I kept switching languages accidentally. On the other hand, An was open to the idea, replying only with, ‘I trust you.’

I held my breath, transfixed by the dots and dashes before us.

A number of Os appeared, scattered throughout the message; two in the first line, three in the second, four in the third, and one in the fourth. The drawing of the empty gallows remained unchanged.

We did it!

Beside me, Headband exhaled a sigh of relief and murmured a subdued thank you. Much to my surprise, however, the Queen didn’t seem disheartened by our small victory. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she looked pleased for us.

‘A good choice to start with, I must say.’ She clasped her hands together, resting them against her blazer. ‘Unfortunately, you’ve used up one of your vowels, but you seem like smart girls. I’m sure you’ll do well.’

How could she be so happy?

‘Isn’t this a bad thing for you?’ I asked. ‘Aren’t you worried?’

‘Should I be? There’s no good or bad,’ she countered, ‘just two perspectives.’

She’s a gamemaster, isn’t she? She set up these games, and she’ll die here if we win.

‘But we’re your enemy...’

She smiled warmly once more. ‘I think you’ll find we’re on the same side.’

On the same side? I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense at all. ‘What do y—’

‘Don’t bother.’ An took off her sunglasses, openly assessing the Queen. ‘She’s intentionally wasting our time.’

She was right. The clock was now on forty-seven minutes, and the Queen seemed to be particularly skilled at raising more questions than she answered. I could interrogate her about all of this once we’d cleared the game – some things took priority. I focused my concentration on the code, trying to find some kind of hint or pattern there.

.-. .. -. --. / .- / .-. .. -. --. / O / .-. o ... . ...

.- / .--. o -.-. -.- . - / ..-. ..- .-.. .-.. / o ..-. / .--. o ... .. . ...

.- / - .. ... .... o o / .- / - .. ... .... o o

.-- . / .- .-.. .-.. / ..-. .- .-.. .-.. / -.. o .-- -.

From what I could see, the O in the first line was capitalised. It was a standalone word – usually that would mean the word was either archaic, or it was in another language. But the Os in the third line were even more curious. The morse symbols repeated themselves twice, with the Os hinting at what could only be either onomatopoeia, or again, archaic terminology.

‘What do you think?’ Pigtails asked.

My eyes scanned the repetitions in the third line. There was something off about it. Words didn’t usually repeat themselves twice in a row like that... unless they were poetic. It would certainly explain why the O was alone in the top line, and why this message was carefully constructed with line breaks in the first place.

If it’s poetry, I might have heard it before.

Headband perked up suddenly. ‘What about going with the most common characters?’

By characters, she must’ve meant letters. I still didn’t know what language the message was in, so I could only use the letters I knew rather than those with accents. Although, playing Hangman as a child, there were always certain letters that wielded the best chance of success.

‘Let’s go with M,’ I said at last. There was usually at least one hiding somewhere. The four of us looked at the screen in anticipation. My fists clenched at my sides as I willed for an M to appear in the mix.

The screen changed.

The wrong screen. A circle appeared below the noose in the drawing. The hangman now had a head.

I could feel the others looking at me, aware that they had put their trusted me and I had let them down. ‘I’m sorry...’ I told them. ‘I’m sorry. ごめん.’

A hand lightly squeezed my shoulder. ‘It’s okay,’ Headband said. ‘We’ve still got more tries.’

Pigtails stepped as close as the noose would allow. ‘This was going to happen at some point. And at least now we know which characters aren’t there. It narrows down the possible words.’

There was silence from An. Perhaps she was disappointed in me, or even regretting her decision to let me captain this game. I wouldn’t blame her if that was the case. I felt the same way, only my regret was stained with guilt too. If I couldn’t save the three of them, at least I would die too. At least I would get what I deserved.

I glanced up at the timer. Forty-five minutes until someone gets sent to the gallows. I couldn’t let it be them.

I can’t lose control of myself like this.

‘You’ve used up one of your ten consonants,’ the Queen reminded us, steady and composed as always. ‘As a word of advice, relying on an age-old strategy doesn’t necessarily work.’

Every time the Queen opened her mouth, she only confused me more. And judging from An’s response, I wasn’t the only one to feel that way. ‘Why should we listen to your advice? Our failure is your win.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t,’ the Queen replied. ‘But I’ll leave it up to you to decide.’

She didn’t sound like she was purposely trying to mislead us, but that in itself could be what made it so misleading. Most people tend to gravitate towards common letters when playing Hangman – is that what she meant by an ‘age-old-strategy’?

In that case...

I took a deep breath. Maybe this was worth the risk. ‘I think we should try doing the opposite,’ I stated. ‘I think we should choose an uncommon letter.’ Realising I’d slipped between languages yet again, I tried to remember the words in Japanese. ‘逆が試みよう.’ Let’s try the opposite. ‘レアの文字.’ An uncommon letter.

The Queen could have purposely avoided using popular ones to throw us off. But if I was wrong, was it worth losing a turn? The bodiless head dangled from its noose on the other screen.

Only six chances left.

‘It’s worth a shot,’ said An.

Pigtails peered at us from the end of the platform. ‘Are you sure? We don’t have that many chances of guessing.’

I understood her hesitation. It felt like we were gambling with our lives, and I was the one calling the shots. And it was even worse for her as she was placing her life in someone else’s hands. ‘I know, わかてる,’ I tried to reassure her. ‘If it doesn’t work, we can try a different approach.’

Headband was twiddling her fingers again, although there was a hardness in her posture. A resolve to win. ‘It won’t be a waste, because we’ll know then that it’s the wrong strategy. I trust you two.’

It felt good to know they had my back, even if my previous attempt at guessing hadn’t worked. Maybe things would take a turn for the better? I exhaled slowly, trying to assemble the most unlikely letters. Q was definitely a contender. Z was again, too obvious, but X was hardly ever used because there were fewer words you could make with it. It was probably the most unlikely letter to appear in a game of Hangman.

Forty-three minutes ticked down to forty-two.

‘X.’

We waited with bated breath. Headband played with her fingers. Pigtails chewed on her lip. An clutched her sunglasses in both hands, her eyes locked on the message before us.

Please... please.

‘Relying on an age-old strategy doesn’t necessarily work.’

A black line appeared beneath the hangman’s head, his new body dangling from the noose.

#alice in borderland #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #Chishiya x reader #chishiya x oc #chishiya alice in Borderland #Imawa no Kuni no Arisu #aib

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taleasnewastime · 4 years ago

Text

The village

Summary: When Min Yoongi turns up in your village you battle with whether you should tell him you know who he is. But when you start to hang out with him, and you can start calling him your friend, things get even more complicated.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 11.1k

Authors Note: Buckle in, that is not a typo this indeed 11,100 words! It has taken me a while to write but I really enjoyed it, so I hope you enjoy reading it too. This isn’t going to be the new normal, but I do have some ideas for some other longer stories. Let me know if you like the length or whether you think I should just stick to shorter fics, would love to hear your thoughts. Anyway, this is a fluffly story about Yoongi having a vacation in a small village.

Cup on tea in hand you look out through the window. Winter was fully setting in and rain fell gently against the window causing drops to slowly run downwards. With the café you were currently in being at the top of the hill your window seat provided a good view of the village. With the rain constantly pouring down not many people were walking through the village, so instead of your normal people watching you look at the rain drops fall down the window.

Taking another sip of your drink, you look down and notice that you can nearly see the bottom of the mug. Glancing out the window again you consider ordering another drink just to avoid going outside for another few minutes. These thoughts are long forgotten when you remember that you promised you would meet Molly to help her lock up the shop. She had asked you yesterday when she found out that Matt, her only store assistant, couldn’t help her.

You look across the café to see the time, you still had 10 minutes until you had to be at the shop. Not enough time to order another drink. Instead you nurse your current drink, eyes going back to the beads of water on the glass.

You down the last dregs of your drink, setting the mug back on the table, you start to shrug your coat on. Heading for the door, you pick up your still sodden umbrella, shaking it slightly out of habit.

“See you soon, Fiona,” you call across the café to the woman sat behind the counter, signifying your departure.

“Lovely to see you dear, come back soon,” the lady shouts back at you, giving a gentle wave.

With that you open up the door, taking a small step out before immediately opening your umbrella. Hood up, umbrella as close to your head as possible, you shuffle down the road towards Mollys shop.

The rain was almost horizontally lashing at you, so to avoid the majority of the drops getting on you, you have to place the umbrella almost as a shield. Though this works in stopping you basically having an outdoor shower, it does prohibit your vision. There should, therefore, have been no surprise when you collide with a solid mass. What you don’t expect is for that solid mass to start talking.

“You should watch where you’re walking,” a gruff voice sounds out barely audible over the rain.

Raising your umbrella so that it is above your head and you can finally see, you take in the person in front of you. Having lived in the village for almost all of your life, and with the village being as small as it is, you know everyone there. No one seemed to leave and hardly anyone ever seemed to enter. The person currently standing in front of you however is someone you have never seen in your life. He wears a hat tightly pulled over his head, a few dark strands of hair poking out, a big coat that swallows up his body, and big black boots on his feet. His face is round, and his cheeks puff out slightly from under his hat.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologise, your voice so soft you worry that it won’t be heard over the wind and rain. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Clearly,” the man scoffs.

Rain continuing to lash down on you, and the coldness of the air starting to hit you, you are not up for listening to some stranger's moodiness. Instead you give another quick, blunt apology and start walking off again in the direction you were heading.

When you finally reach the shop, you stomp on arrival. Attempting to get some water off yourself and umbrella was pointless, but the stomping was at least getting rid of some of the annoyance that had risen up within you from the rude man on the street.

“I’ll be with you in a second,” comes a call from the back of the shop.

“It’s just me Mol,” you shout back, hearing a few crashes in return.

The crashes die down when you hear some footsteps which turns into the appearance of Molly. “What has you stomping around? Don’t think I’ve ever heard you that loud in my life.”

You roll your eyes at her, “I’m not being that loud, just trying to get some water off me,” you say. Dumping your umbrella in a pile at the door you peel your hood back before taking your coat off entirely. Feeling more human now you are somewhat dry and not bundled in a mass of clothes you head over to the till where Molly is stood.

“Thanks for volunteering to help me,” Molly says.

“I don’t know if I would use the word volunteer, more like black mailed?” Molly rolls her eyes at you. “And anyway, you know I’m always free to help.”

“You may not want to offer that service, I’d have you here every night if I could,” she says. “Right, down to business, all I need you to do is stack that last box ready for tomorrow. I’ll start counting up the money and then we can both do a final sweep of the floors.”

“Perfect,” you reply, already heading to the box in question.

You plonk yourself down on the floor by the box and slowly unload its contents, occasionally reading the labels of the miscellaneous tins. The job was a tad mind numbing even if it was just the single box you needed to unload, though you did find it somewhat therapeutic, allowing your mind to tune out to the world. A hum starts to leave your mouth without much realisation.

“Is that ABBA?”

You almost drop the tin that was in your hand, not realising anyone but Molly was in the shop. The deep voice that had just sounded out was definitely not Molly. Slowly turning your head and from your seat on the floor, you notice the big black boots first. That alone was enough for you to guess who was stood in front of you, but you continue to move your eyes up his stature. As if you had any doubt your guess was confirmed when you met the eyes of the rude man you had previously met in the street.

“Yeah,” you answer his question, eyes going back to the tin in your hand as you feel annoyance start to rise up within you again. “Mamma Mia,” you say the name of the song as you place yet another tin on the shelf.

“I’m more of a Dancing Queen man myself,” your eyes shoot up to him, his eyes now on the shelf in front of him, a small smile threatening to escape his lips.

You roll your eyes at the man, focus once again returning to the stacking of the shelf. “If you really want to get into superior ABBA tracks then we all know it’s Voulez-Vous,” you say deadpan, not sure if he was mocking you with his earlier comment.

He simply hums in agreement letting out a simple “good choice,” as he over analyses the writing on a packet of rice.

Your face heats up slightly, still unsure if he was mocking you or simply complementing your taste in music. A few more moments pass in silence, just the light tapping of tins going onto the shelf. The man however doesn’t leave his spot, towering over you.

“So, do you work here?” He finally speaks out. He means it to come out casual, but instead it comes out awkward and stilted, and you can’t help the small smile that comes to your face.

“No. Just helping a friend,” you say. “I do it from time to time when she’s desperate.”

“So, you live here?” He asks. “I mean, you live in the village?”

You finally look back up at him to find his eyes already on you. “Yeah, live towards the bottom of the hill. Are you passing through?”

“I guess you could say I’m on a holiday of sorts.”

“You’re staying here?” Your eyes almost bulge out of your head in shock.

“Is there a problem with that?” He gives a slight chuckle at your reaction, though it does unnerve him slightly, was there some sort of problem with this village he’d stumbled upon?

“No, no,” you are quick to reassure him. “It’s just that people never really come to this village.”

“Should I be worried? Maybe take my holiday somewhere else?”

“Depends,” you say. “If your idea of a good time is talking to old people all day, only being able to visit a small café and convivence store, and taking long meaningful walks around some woods, then I would say this is the perfect place for you.”

“Well when you put it like that,” he smiles.

Before your conversation can go any further Mollys head pops out from the end of the isle, “5 minutes until the store closes,” she announces, disappearing back to where she came from just as quickly.

Having jumped slightly at the interruption your focus goes back on your work, realising you still have half the box to unpack and not much time left to do it. Though you were helping Molly out and she was your best friend, she did ever so slightly scare you and you did not want to be on the receiving end if she finds out you’ve been talking rather than doing your ‘job’.

The man next to you has also somewhat livened at the announcement. Hands grabbing a few items off the shelf, bundling them into his arms as he makes his way to the till.

Just before he fully rounds the corner he stops and turns to look at you. “I’m Yoongi by the way, should maybe have said that earlier,” you look to see a light blush covering his cheeks.

He remains stood there as you stare at him, smile on your face, a tin in hand half way to the shelf. “Y/N,” you reply. He gives a curt nod before walking off, disappearing behind the shelf completely.

“Do you know who that was?” The words shoot at you like bullets, an almost franticness to them. As you head towards Molly with your now empty box you can see that the words are not the only thing frantic about her in that moment, her whole body almost shaking. You stop dead in your tracks taking her in.

“Yoongi?” You mind whirling with thoughts about what could have gotten her in that state, was he some ex-lover? Maybe even just an old friend? Someone she’d seen on the street before, maybe he had treated her the same way he had treated you when outside. Maybe she wasn’t even talking about Yoongi, maybe someone else had come into the shop without you seeing. All these thoughts and not one of them was what actually came out of Mollys mouth.

“Yes Yoongi, or SUGA,” your face still blank she continues. “From BTS?” She's almost desperate at this point.

“BTS, that’s a boyband, right?”

“Jesus Y/N. Yes, BTS is a boyband, it’s the biggest boyband in the world,” if there wasn’t a table between the two of you, Molly would have tried to shake some sense into you.

“Oh right, well good for him I guess,” you try to feign being cool, and though you still weren’t entirely sure who Yoongi really was, you couldn’t pretend to not know who BTS were. Heat started to rise to your face as you think about how you spoke to some famous pop star and didn’t even realise. How people would have killed to be in your earlier position and there you were getting slightly annoyed that he may have been mocking you about humming an ABBA tune.

Taking the empty box, you head towards the recycling, Molly hot on your tails.

“Are you not even the slightest bit curious about why Min Yoongi was in my shop?” Molly almost bounces off the walls as she follows you.

“He said he was taking a holiday,” you shrug.

“A holiday? Here?” Molly says it as if it’s the least appealing thing she has ever heard.

“Maybe he likes talking to old people,” you reference one of the selling points you’d told Yoongi earlier.

“Well, he’s probably long gone by now,” Molly finally settles down, bouncing turning more into a small bob. “Maybe I should have asked for a picture when I had the chance.”

“I say let’s just sweep the floors and head home,” you take one of the brooms that was resting against the wall and shove it in her arms.

“Let a girl have some fun,” she pouts at you.

You didn’t give Yoongi much more thought that night, nor the following morning. Like Molly had said, he was probably long gone now. Instead you go about your daily life, wake up, make a tea, and then head to your mini studio. You’d wanted to be an artist for as long as you could remember, and you were lucky that you earned enough money, from commissions and putting some work in galleries, that it supported you enough to live. Though you didn’t live an exuberant life, you were happy enough in your cosy two-bedroom house. Having converted the second bedroom into your studio also meant that you could cut costs on having to rent a separate space.

Flowers were your thing. Though not drawn realistically in all your works, you always drew inspiration from them. Whether that be their colours, their shape or simply their place within a space. Flowers were definitely your thing, and that was no more evident than in your studio. Flower pressings littered the walls, pictures of flowers you had taken on walks joining them, there were even some fake flowers in some pots on shelves and in corners. That was all before you had taken in your actual works. Your studio was basically just one big headache of colour, and you loved every inch of it.

The rain from yesterday was still lashing down outside, and you sit on a stall by the window with your mug for a second, watching the beads run down the window just as you had done in the café. Before you get too carried away you kick yourself into action and start to do some actual work.

You could normally work a full day, especially when you had a few commissions or pieces that were needed for galleries. Today was one of those days, two commission pieces underway you didn’t find it hard to get stuck in and paint the day away.

Trying to stick to a traditional 8 hour working day was hard when you were your own boss. You found you would get to the end of your day and still have stuff to do and as it was your business, you would want to stay and get everything done. This had resulted in late nights and early mornings in the past, essentially eliminating any chance of a social life, which was pretty non-existent anyway. However, it is still what drove you to start being stricter with more formatted days.

So, as it neared stopping time, and although you still had things to do, you diligently put your paints and brushes away, clearing up for the day. You could always fit in an extra hour in the evening if you felt like it. Otherwise everything would still be where you’d left it tomorrow. You had also found that coming back to a painting with fresh eyes always helped. The secret to painting was knowing when to stop.

Looking out the window confirmed that the rain was still falling. With Molly still having a few more hours to work at the shop, and wanting to get out of the house you decided the only option was to go back to the café. A coffee right now sounded ideal anyway.

So, you head up the hill. Coat back on, umbrella over your head, you try to avoid as much rain as you could. When you finally make it, you dump your umbrella in a wet heap by the door. Ordering a coffee, you give a smile and hello to the other customers as you head over to your normal seat by the window.

Taking in the world outside, your mind tunes into some of the other conversations around you. Much like the small village, the coffee shop was never that busy and always full of old people. Your ears flick between the only two conversations going on, one about the troubles their grandchildren were having with potty training, the other about how they had seen another villager walking around with a green hat on, apparently it was scandalous.

You try to disguise the giggle that rises within you by taking a sip of your drink. However, what definitely kills the giggle is the words spoken by a deep voice.

“Thought I recognised the umbrella by the door.”

You almost spill your drink as you turn from the window to the man stood beside you. Heat immediately rises to your face, heart rate increases tenfold, as you look at Yoongi. He simply stands looking at you with a small closed mouth smile on his face, mug of coffee in his hands.

“Oh, hi,” are the only words you managed to splutter out at him. He remains stood looking at you, and you’re not sure what comes over you when you offer him to sit with you. He accepts and you watch as he places his mug down and takes the seat opposite you. Hair now out of the hat he was wearing yesterday, you take in his dark, almost black, locks that fall just long enough that they touch his eyes, but don’t cover them. His skin is clear and light, puffing out slightly into squishable cheeks that are lightly pink from the storm blowing outside. His lips are plump, and the perfect shade of pink, a shade that you wish you could replicate in your studio. Then you meet his eyes. A deep dark coffee colour, the colour almost blending into his pupil.

“You stayed,” you dumbly state.

“Well you did such a good job of selling the place, I didn’t think I could leave,” he smiles.

Your heart rate still high, you do everything to avoid his eye contact. Your eyes look around the room and notice that all other eyes in the cafe are on the two of you, surely curious about the man sat opposite you that they had never seen before. The village rumour mill must already be whirling. Your eyes finally land on your coffee, deciding that’s the safest place to look.

Though you would like to think that the only reason you were being so awkward was because you now knew he was famous, in reality you would be like this around any good-looking guy. What with the small village filled with old people, hot guys were a very infrequent occurrence. However, the fact you now knew he was a member of BTS definitely made the situation worse.

“What have you done today then?” You manage to ask.

“Not much, just settled into the house I’m staying in. Unpacked and went to get some more food,” he says. “What about you?”

Your eyes dare to look up at him and find that maybe he isn’t as scary as you initially thought, though you are still unable to hold eye contact for more than a second. “Just worked,” you answer.

“And what do you work as?”

“I’m an artist. I paint,” you add to clarify your point.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, a reaction that you were used to by now. “What do you paint?”

“Flowers,” you say, a small smile coming to your lips as you start to think about your art and how much you love it. “Of sorts. They’re all abstract so you wouldn’t necessarily think they are flowers. But it’s where I draw inspiration.”

He smiles at you, watching as you seem to almost glow when you talk about your work. You cringe under his stare, looking out the window you gather the courage to ask, “what do you do for work?” curious to see what his answer would be.

“I make music,” he says simply.

You raise your eyebrows, mocking surprise. “Anything I would know?” Again, curious as to whether he would admit who he was.

“If ABBA is your idea of good music then I doubt you would have heard any of my songs,” his lips pull back showing off a gummy smile.

You roll your eyes and pout your lips slightly. “Must not be that good then,” you mock annoyance and you hear a chuckle leave his lips.

“I’m glad I managed to bump into you again actually,” he says and you raise your eyebrows in genuine shock this time.

“In this village I think it would harder to avoid someone then bump into them,” you say.

“Noted,” he smiles. “Anyway, I wanted to ask about those woodland walks you mentioned yesterday.”

“Oh right,” you say, feeling a bit disappointed though you are unsure why. “They are literally at the bottom of this hill. Just walk down the road and you can’t miss it. Theres a map at the start so you shouldn’t get lost.”

“Great. Thank you,” he says.

“You going to go in the rain?” You nod your head to the window to emphasise your point.

His eyes turn to the bleak day outside. “Maybe I’ll wait to see if it’s drier tomorrow,” his face turns back to you. “Fancy joining?”

Your heart almost stops beating at the offer and you manage to stutter out a “urm.”

He gives you a small smirk, “you don’t have to if you’re busy.”

“I mean, I guess it would be nice to go on a walk. I could go around midday?”

“Thank god, because I definitely would have got lost,” you laugh at his comment, his words making you feel more at ease.

He takes a final sip of his coffee, finishing it off, and then slowly pushes his chair back from the table. Standing up he shrugs his coat on and then puts his hand in his pocket, pulling out his phone. A few clicks on it and then he is holding it out to you. Sensing your confusion he simply says, “for your phone number,” and then quickly adds, “if that’s OK?”

You reach out taking the phone from him, smiling at the blush that has taken over his cheeks. “Very smooth Yoongi,” you say, causing the shade of his blush to deepen.

Handing him back the phone he does a few more taps, causing your phone to ping. “Now you can text me your address too,” he doesn’t let you reply to that, but you can see a wide gummy smile take over his face. Grabbing his bag as he heads for the door. “See you at midday tomorrow.”

“YOU ARE GOING ON A DATE WITH MIN YOONGI?” Molly screams in your face after you tell her about your previous café encounter.

You groan, placing your head in your hands. You had weighed whether it was worth telling Molly or not, but ultimately had decided that she would find out eventually and if it didn’t come from you she may just kill you. However, as you sit in your living room, Molly screaming in your face, you almost regret telling her anything.

“It’s not a date,” you reply.

“You are going on a walk alone with Yoongi, he has your phone number, hell he even has your address. Mate, you are going on a date.”

“He just doesn’t want to get lost and knows I’m local,” you try to reason.

“Literally nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“Ok, but nothing you say is going to change mine,” you say just as stubbornly as Molly had. “Can we just not make a big deal of this, I’m am just going on a walk with someone that happens to be a man, no big issue.”

“Alright, alright,” Molly subsides. She knows your track record with men and, even if it wasn’t a date, going for a walk with a man was a massive step for you. So, if it made you feel better about the situation, she would stop teasing you. “But you still have to tell me every detail about it.”

“I promise,” you sigh, already knowing she would want a full blow by blow.

You almost pour liquid caffeine down your throat the next morning. Having had broken sleep due to the anxiety caused by a certain man, you needed anything you could get to help you stay awake. Opting instead for a strong coffee you head up to your studio to at least attempt to get a few hours of work done.

As expected, work is the last thing your mind can focus on. Worrying instead about what you should wear later, and how long you should give yourself to get ready, you didn’t want to go covered in paint. Then your mind would try to reason, what does it matter what I wear it’s just a walk, you wouldn’t dress up for a walk with Molly. But you are going on a walk with Min Yoongi, this is completely different.

As all these thoughts whirl through your brain, the morning actually flies by. Though not much work was achieved, you manage to look semi presentable by midday. Though the rain had stopped it was still cold so you had opted for a hoody under a jacket, with some well fitted black jeans and boots. Not dressy at all, but compared to what you would normally wear it was positively Met Gala worthy.

Even though you are stood waiting, the doorbell still makes you jump when it rings out. You take small steps to the door in an attempt to not look too eager. Opening the door, you see Yoongi leaning against the front garden wall. All in black, he looked like a model pulled out of a magazine, and you have to try and push the thought away that says he basically is just that.

“Hi,” you say softly.

“Hey,” he stands up straighter, eyes taking you in. “Ready to go?”

“Yep, let me just grab my keys,” you duck into the house quickly grabbing your keys, before going back out and locking up your house.

“After you,” Yoongi points his arms to the front gate as a gesture for you to go first. “You are my guide after all.”

You smile as you walk past him. Taking a right towards the woods, Yoongi quickly falls into step with you.

“Did you manage to get any work done today?” Yoongi asks, sounding genuinely interested.

“A bit,” you lie, then follow it up with some truths. “I have two commissions on at the moment so just trying to get those finished before I start anything else.”

“Do you get many commissions?”

“Enough to get me by. Obviously, I would love more, who doesn’t aspire for me, but I am just happy that I make enough to support it as a career. I can’t really complain.”

“Being an artist is hard,” you hum in agreement at his words. “How do people hear about you? I guess I mean how did you become an artist?”

“Just the standard art college, university. Kind of got lucky I guess, a lot of people I studied with couldn’t support themselves enough to make it their job,” you downplay your achievements, always one to be modest.

“Shows you must be good,” he says, which you shrug at, unsure how to reply.

“This is the turning,” you are thankful for an excuse to try and change the topic. You stop by the map of the woods, a few different coloured lines make loops showing the different trails on offer, each varying in distance. “How far do you want to go?”

“The short one looks good,” you nod in approval starting to head in the right direction. “As you have work to do this afternoon, would hate to be the reason you get nothing done.

If only he knew, you think. “And what about you? Working on any music currently.”

“No,” he says it sharply and you worry that you said the wrong thing. Realising his mistake, he sighs. “I’m on holiday to try and clear my mind,” he explains.

“We all need some time away sometimes,” you say softly.

“And what better place to be,” he widens his arms at the trees around you and you laugh at him.

“Hawaii would be nice,” you joke.

“Not all it's cracked up to be,” he plays along.

“At least there’s sun there.”

“Again, not all it’s cracked up to be,” a big gummy smile takes over his face at these words.

“Are you some sort of vampire or something?”

“Maybe,” he laughs. “This seems like a very Edward and Bella location.”

“A Twilight fan?” You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Oh, come on. Who hasn’t seen Twilight? You’d have to be living in a cave to avoid it,” he rolls his eyes at you.

For the proceeding few minutes you discuss whether you are team Edward or Jacob. Have an intellectual conversation about whether the books or films are better. And talk about the following careers of several of the actors. It takes you almost by surprise to realise how easy it is conversation to have a conversation with Yoongi. Fully settled into it, you don’t even think about who he is or the fact that he is wildly attractive, you are just engrossed in the light and funny conversation.

In no time you are back outside your gate. Nervously you swing the gate lightly in your hand.

“Thanks for coming with me today,” Yoongi says.

“It was a nice break from work, thanks for letting me tag along,” you smile.

“I hope you have a productive afternoon. Maybe I’ll bump into you around the village,” he says, turning with a slight wave and all too soon he’s gone.

“I need details,” Mollys voice sounds out through the phone that evening.

“It was nice,” you reply. “It was normal.”

“What did you talk about?”

“A bit about work, a lot about Twilight, I don’t know just a range of topics that naturally came up.”

“And are you meeting again?”

“No plans, he just left it saying that he’d maybe bump into me.”

“You should text him,” she says it rushed, as if it’s an amazing idea that she’ll forget if she doesn’t get it out.

“What?” Slight panic in your voice.

“You have his number right? You should ask him to do something with you.”

“Do what? There is nothing to do here,” you are trying to get out of it but your words are also true. You’d both already hit all the main attractions of the village together.

“Invite him round to yours,” you hear the excitement in her voice at her idea. “You can say you’ll cook him dinner.”

“I hardly know the guy, do you not think inviting him to my house is a bit forward?”

“Invite him out for a meal somewhere then. You could drive to el forno,” she suggests your favourite restaurant which is a few minutes drive from the village.

“I don’t know, sounds even more like a date than inviting him for food at mine,” you stress.

“Jesus Y/N. Just don’t overthink it. Ask him to go on another walk with you. Or even just text him to say that you enjoyed today. As long as you text him something.”

You hum, still not sure. “I guess a text to say I enjoyed our walk wouldn’t be so bad,” you reason.

“That’s it then. Do it now. And let me know what he replies,” and with a quick goodbye the phone line is dead, Molly gone.

Before you can overthink it you take Mollys advice and open up your messages with Yoongi. So far the only messages being his ‘hi’ and you giving him your address. A deep breath to settle your nerves and you type out a message.

Just wanted to say thanks again for today. It was nice to go round the woods with company for a change.

You read over the message several times, scrutinising every word. When finally your finger hovers over the send button, tapping down. Delivered. All you could do now is wait.

Trying to ignore your phone was easier said then done. You felt like some silly school girl checking your phone every minute to see if he had replied or even read your message. After a good 10 minutes of this you decide that you needed to leave your phone completely so head up for a bit of late night painting in an attempt to take your mind off it.

This works up until you hear the distant ding of your phone. You almost chuck your paint brush at the wall in an attempt to get to your phone quicker. Picking it up and opening the message you don’t care if you come across keen.

I enjoyed the company too. We should do it again sometime.

So he does want to see you again. The smile that spread across your face at that news was possibly the biggest smile you’d ever had. Typing out a reply you don’t hesitate in pressing send this time.

I’d love that.

As soon as it’s delivered it appears as being read showing he had your chat open. Dots appear showing he way typing.

Tomorrow too soon?

Again your typing is fast.

I can do lunch time again?

His reply just reads,

I’ll meet you outside yours again.

You manage to sleep better that night, and are actually productive in the morning. Compared to your first meeting you have your nerves under control. And when Yoongi arrives you find that you both fall into easy conversation. And when you finish your walk, Yoongi outside your house he suggests it becomes a regular occurrence and you happily agree to continue your lunch time walks.

It’s on one of these walks a few days later that he says, “I would love to see your art one day.” He says it so offhandedly that you aren’t expecting it and struggle to respond. “You always sound so passionate about it whenever it comes up in conversation. I guess I’m intrigued,” he smiles down at you.

“Yeah, sure, I guess you can come and see my art,” you say.

“Whenever you are ready,” he says, not wanting to push you into anything.

“I’ve actually nearly finished my commissioned pieces, so maybe when they’re done,” you suggest. “Then you can see something that’s fully finished.”

“Perfect,” he replies.

“So if you’re seeing my art, does this mean I get to hear some of your songs?”

He chuckles at your question. “I’ve actually been working on some new stuff recently.”

“I thought you said you don’t like to work on holiday?” You say shocked.

“I guess inspiration struck,” he shrugs.

“Well, I would love to hear it.”

“We will have to see,” he mumbles before changing the topic of conversation.

You are sat with your legs crossed on one of the counters in Mollys shop, chocolate bar in hand as you watch her stood by the till. You’d been discussing, amongst other things, your lunch time walks with Yoongi.

“I still think you should invite him round,” Molly says.

“I’m going to,” you say it with such confidence that Molly almost chokes on her own spit.

“You are?” She says in disbelief.

“I finished my commission pieces the other day and I said that he could come and see them. I just need to actually invite him.”

“Please don’t chicken out of it this time.”

As she finishes her sentence the door to the shop opens and in walks the man in question. Molly widens her eyes and shouts out a greeting, Yoongi gives a small wave before disappearing behind a row of shelves in search of something.

“Perfect timing,” Molly mumbles under her breath, jabbing her head to where Yoongi was stood for emphasis.

You shoot her daggers a warning to not embarrass you. And when Yoongi rounds the corner with some tins in his hands you both have to scramble to look normal.

“Hey Min,” you cringe as the words come out of your mouth, never having called him that before. “You’ve met Molly before right?” You try to recover.

He gives her a small smile, placing his tins down on the counter by the till. “I believe I bought some rice off you once,” he says extending his hand for her to shake. “Yoongi,” he introduces himself. “Or Min, it seems,” he glances at you giving a cheeky smile.

Your eyes dart to the floor, heat rising to your face.

“Well it’s nice to properly meet you,” Molly saves you, scanning through his items. “Are you enjoying your stay in the village?”

“It’s great. I’m used to a much faster pace of life so I am appreciating the laid back feeling here.”

“Laid back, slow, boring. It’s thanks to all the old people,” Molly jokes.

“You can’t hate it that much if you live here,” he hands over some cash for his items.

“I guess I’ve gotten used to it, don’t really know much else,” she explains handing him back his change.

“Well I think it’s great here,” he says and Molly hums in acknowledgment. Picking up his items he turns to the door saying, “see you guys around.”

His back to you Molly gives you a hard nudge, widening her eyes at you. Before you can think you shout out his name causing him to stop just before the door, turning to look at you. “I finished my paintings if you still want to come and see them?”

“Of course I do,” a smile breaks out on his face.

“Tomorrow evening work?” You ask, glancing down at Molly for reassurance before you say, “you can stay for some food too?”

The smile on his face remains as he accepts your invitation. He says “see you tomorrow,” before turning and leaving the shop.

“He is smitten,” Molly turns to you once he is gone.

“He just wants to see my art, I talk about it all the time, he’s curious.”

“And he could have just asked to see a picture. He didn’t need to come to your house to see it, he didn’t need to accept a dinner invitation to see it.”

“He’s being nice,” you sigh, unwilling to believe her words. “Can you just help me decide what to wear and cook?”

She rolls her eyes at how oblivious you were being, but agrees to help you out. Both of you spending your evening contemplating different outfits as well as brain storming meal Ideas.

Due to the fact he was coming to yours that evening you call off your lunch time walk, and instead text him a time to come to yours. You spend your day wisely, doing work but also preparing food and cleaning up you house a bit. By the time you hear the distinctive tone of your door bell, there is a nice smell of food in your house and the place looks clean.

You have to stifle a gasp that threatened to leave your lips when you opened the door. Stood in black jeans, a well fitted shirt with the top few buttons undone and a jacket, he looked effortlessly perfect. You couldn’t help but check him out as he walks past you into your house and takes his jacket off. Nearly catching you, you manage to peel your eyes away as he turns to look at you.

“I bought some wine,” he says holding up a hand with a bottle in it.

“Thanks,” you say as you take it off him and head to the kitchen.

“Something smells amazing,” he says leaning against the door frame.

“I hope you like lasagne?” You scold yourself for not checking he liked it sooner, but the worries are instantly gone when Yoongi confirms he does indeed love lasagne. You pour out two glasses of wine and head over to Yoongi handing him one.

“Do you want to see my art now, or after food?” You ask, taking a sip of your wine to try and calm your nerves.

Taking a sip of his wine Yoongi looks you in the eye before saying, “now?”

You give a bashful smile before nodding and heading off in the direction of your studio, hoping he got the clue to follow. Your heart rate is impossibly high as you head up the stairs, thoughts of him not liking your work going through your head. Your art was such a personal thing to you, something you pour your heart into, the thought of the man currently walking behind you not liking it would shatter your heart.

You pause at the door, hand on the handle. It’s almost as if you are pausing for a more dramatic effect but it’s purely due to you wondering whether this was such a good idea. Yoongi being ever patient just stands waiting, allowing you the time you need. You finally manage to kick yourself into action, deciding you were being stupid and that if he really wanted to he’d be able to google your art and find it in galleries.

Swinging open the door you step inside and make room for Yoongi to come in next to you. You avoid looking at his face not wanting to see his reaction in fear there will be disgust there. If you had looked though you would have seen his eyes full of wonder, lips popped open.

The silence is deafening to you and it only increases your worry as you still avoid looking at Yoongis reaction. “It’s not everyone's cup of tea,” you panic feeling the need to fill the silence. “The bright colours don’t agree with everyone I guess. And flowers are quite -”

Yoongi cuts you off by placing a hand on your shoulder and getting you to look at him. “It’s amazing,” he says. Looking at you he can see the worry and insecurities written all over your face so he continues. “Seriously, I think they are beautiful. I would actually like to see more of your work, see how all the pieces differ.”

“I have pictures,” you pull your phone out and open up the album with all your art work in. Handing your phone to Yoongi you let him scroll through. You watch as he takes in your work, humming out at times, fingers pinching the screen to zoom in on certain works.

“I’d actually love to buy one,” he says when he’s finished looking through them.

Never in a million years would you have expected him to say those words, and you are anything but professional when you stutter out a, “you don’t have to.” Thinking he was just trying to be kind.

“I’m being serious when I say I really like your work, Y/N,” he says. “I wouldn’t say I want to buy a piece if I didn’t genuinely want one.”

“I mean I guess I could give you some form of discount,” you mumble out.

“I don’t want any favours or discounts. I just want to be a normal customer, pay the normal price, go through the normal steps, and get an amazing painting at the end of it.”

“Ok,” you give him a bashful smile. “I guess I could fit you in,” you open up the calendar on your phone. “I normally sit down with someone who’s commissioned a piece so we can discuss what we both want to achieve, make sure that we are both happy with what’s going on. So when’s best for you?”

“I’m actually heading home for a few days this weekend, but I will be back next week,” he says.

Up until this point you’d not really thought about the fact that this was just a holiday for Yoongi, that he had a life outside this village. Obviously you knew that he did, but you hadn’t thought about the inevitable day when he would leave. So when those words leave his lips it suddenly hits you that he won’t be around forever, that one day your life will go back to how it used to be, Yoongi free.

“Tuesday morning?” You ask.

“I’ll be here,” he replies.

“Great,” you say as you tap the appointment into your phone. “Food?”

“Yes please, I am starving.”

Yoongi settles onto the small table in your kitchen as you expertly slice the lasagne, taking the two plates to the table you sit down opposite him. He pours some more wine into your near empty glass, and you both tuck in.

“What are you doing when you go back home?” You dare to ask.

“Just have some work stuff to go to,” he replies and you hum out in response. “Some of it is actually about those new songs I’ve been working on,” he says casually and your interest is piqued.

“Oh yeah?” You fully focus on him rather than your food.

“Yeah. I think some of them are actually quite good so I need to talk to my management about them.”

“That’s great,” you give a genuine smile. “And then you’re coming back?”

“Just for another week,” he looks you in the eye when he says this and you feel your heart crack slightly at the words but try to not let it show on your face.

“Two weeks in this village? You must really like it,” you try to joke.

“There are some pretty sights,” he shrugs still looking directly into your eyes. “Plus I still have some of the woodland walks left to do.”

“Don’t forget about the café. I’ve heard you are Fionas new favourite customer,” you reference the fact you’d heard people constantly talking about Yoongi around the village. You’d had so many questions yourself, was he your boyfriend? Why was he here? How long was he staying for? All of these you’d tried your best to shrug off.

“That’s just because I compliment her cakes every time I go,” he explains.

“Hum, I’m sure it’s more to do with the fact you’re a young attractive man.”

“You think I’m attractive?”

“Fiona thinks your attractive,” you say though your face still heats up. He hums, clearly not convinced. “Anyway, you should do more than just walk around the woods. I can send you some suggestions, there's a place not too far away with more exciting shops for example.”

“Yeah sure, that would be nice thanks,” he says.

The evening flows nicely, the easy flow of conversation you two had mastered causing it to become late quickly. By the time Yoongi is stood at your door, coat now on, you feel slightly tipsy with all the wine you had drunk.

“I guess I won’t see you until next Tuesday?” You say.

“Yeah, no lunch time wood walks together over the weekend.”

“Good luck with your work stuff, can’t wait to hear how it goes with your manager.”

“Thanks,” he says, not making any attempt to turn and leave.

Maybe it was a need to do something to fill the silence, or maybe it was the wine you had consumed that caused you to step forward and wrap your arms around Yoongi into a hug. There is a moment where he doesn’t return the gesture, remaining stiff, and you worry about what you have just done. But then his arms wrap around you, pulling you slightly closer to him. Nose against his chest you breathe in his scent slightly and wish you could somehow turn it into a candle to make your whole house smell of him. Before it becomes awkward you step away from him.

“I’ll see you next week,” you whisper, slowly closing the door on him. You hear a faint goodbye before he disappears from view.

You would never have guessed that you would miss Yoongi, but over the few days he is gone he occupies all your thoughts. It gets to the point on Saturday night where you decide to google him. Sat on your sofa, you are surprised it has taken you this long to google him.

The first thing that comes up when you press enter are news articles about BTS performing at the MAMAs in Japan. So that’s the work commitment he was talking about you think. A casual weekend in Japan, performing in front of thousands if not millions of people, no big deal. As you go through the news articles you feel the weight of who the man you had been hanging out with weigh down on you.

You flick instead to his Wikipedia page. You read briefly over the section about his early life and how he got signed to Big Hit Entertainment. Scrolling down the page you see the personal life section, seeing that it talks about him buying luxury apartments. Again you start to grow slightly anxious at the words, it all adding to you wondering why he has been bothering to do things with you, or even stay in this village.

Again you move on from the Wikipedia page, this time to Spotify where you type in BTS. Here you feel slightly more comfortable, feeling less prying. You spend your evening listening to some of their songs, after a while flicking into his solo projects.

By the time Tuesday rolls around you had listened to almost all of his discography and it almost made you feel like you were on an even footing with him, he had after all seen your art, it was only fair that you got to listen his.

When Yoongi knocked on your door you greeted him and took him to your studio where you had set up a small table and two chairs. You wanted to act as professional as possible. Though you were dying to ask him about his weekend, at this moment he was a paying customer and therefore questions about his weekend could wait.

The session went well, you showing him more in-depth photos of your work, giving some insight to them. You got him to pick the paintings he liked the most, asked what he liked most about them, asked him about the colours he would like included, the size of the canvas, all questions you would normally ask to gage the style of painting the person wanted.

What surprised you was that he came prepared too, half way through the meeting he whipped out his phone and pulled up some photos of flowers. He flicked through them and asked whether you would be able to somehow use them. Of course, you agreed, it was his painting after all, and you could use the images for inspiration on texture and colour.

Overall the meeting went smoothly and you told him that you would send him updates throughout the process. Again, just as you would any other customer.

Once over, and as you head down the stairs, you ask whether he wants to stay for a coffee, the perfect opportunity to ask how his weekend went. So, as you settled onto the couch with your mugs you did just that.

“How was the meeting with your manager?”

“Yeah, great. He liked the songs, which is always great.”

“So when do I get an exclusive listen?”

“You can listen when everyone else gets to hear them,” he smiles at you.

“Which will be...” you continue to dig.

“You will just have to be patient,” he laughs.

“And here was me thinking that painting for you would mean I get some sort of perk.”

“Is this how you treat all your paying customers?”

“Just the ones I think I can get something out of,” you joke.

“And you think my music is that something?”

“Well you haven’t let me listen to any of it yet, so I can’t be sure,” you act as best you can. “Anyway, how was the rest of your weekend? Your other work stuff go ok?”

“Yeah, nothing too exciting,” he says.

“Really?” You are surprised, not hiding it from your voice, remembering that you had read he had been at the MAMAs performing, surely that was exciting.

“You’re not very subtle, love” a smile graces his face as you look at him dumbfounded. “I know you know who I am.”

“What do you mean?” You play dumb.

“Always asking about my music?”

“I’m interested in what you do,” you cut in.

“You called me Min even though I’d never told you my last name,” he carries on.

“A lucky guess?” You croak out, feeling that you are losing some sort of battle.

“Your friend Molly also definitely knew who I was when I first went to her shop, so I suspected she’d tell you.”

“If it helps, I still don’t really know who you are.”

“You don’t know who SUGA is. I think we’ve hung out enough for you to have a good idea who I am,” he corrects you.

You start to grow awkward at his words, feeling almost trapped by him admitting he’s somewhat caught you out.

“I liked the fact you treated me as a normal person,” he senses your unease and tries to reassure you. “And I thought it was cute when you acted like you didn’t know who I was even though you clearly did.”

Heat rises to your face, nerves causing you to almost shake. Yoongi reaches out to take your hand in his, thumb gently stroking your palm in an attempt to get you calm down.

“I really enjoy spending time with you,” his voice has dropped, both his hands now holding your one hand, playing with your fingers.

Both of you have your eyes on your entangled hands, watching as Yoongis fingers gently stroke yours. The tension in the room is thick, the silence only making it worse.

“I’ve really liked being with you too,” you whisper out.

You dare to look into his eyes, his pupils dilated so big there is almost no coffee coloured iris left. He drops your hand, instead reaching out for your face, thumb now caressing your cheek. Your eyes close at the feeling, heart pounding so hard you’re worried it might escape your chest. Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes again, eyes flicking between Yoongis to his lips.

He leans in impossibly slow, forehead resting against yours, then nose brushing yours, before finally his lips touch yours. Lips move together slowly, acting as if they were made for each other, as if they had never tasted anything so sweet.

All too quickly Yoongi pulls away, light puffs of air leaving his lips as he rests his forehead against yours.

“I really like you,” his gummy smile comes out and you wish you could stay like this forever.

You lean in to kiss him again, this time the kiss is more heated, more desperation behind it. When you feel his tongue poke your lips you moan out and he uses the opportunity access to your mouth. His tongue explores your mouth before dancing together with yours.

When you pull away this time, heavy pants leave both of your lips, as if you had just finished running a marathon.

“Wow,” you breathe. “Can’t believe I just kissed the Min Yoongi,” you joke and a big laugh leaves him, head falling backwards and you get a glimpse of your favourite teeth.

“If you’re lucky, maybe you’ll get to do it again,” you hum as he pecks your lips a few times before fully pulling away.

Sitting back he takes you in. Lips now slightly red, hair ruffled, eyes wide. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so beautiful.

“So, when did you figure out I knew who you were?” You ask.

“Let’s see,” he has a broad smile on his face as he pretends to think back. “As soon as I left the shop after first meeting you. I wasn’t sure you knew who I was when I was first talking to you but as soon as I was served by Molly I knew if you didn’t already know, you soon would.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for her I would still have no idea who you are,” you say it almost as a defence. “And like I said, I still don’t really know who you are. Though, I did listen to some of your songs this weekend,” you decide to come clean.

“You did?” He seems a bit surprised, though you’re not sure why, who wouldn’t nose about on the internet after discovering someone they met is a celebrity? “What did you think?”

“You were right, nowhere near as good as ABBA,” he laughs hard at your comment. “I liked them, there was some really beautiful lyrics. I can see why you have such a big following.”

He smiles at your words, growing a tad shy receiving your compliments.

“So now it’s all in the open, and you know, that I know, that you’re a multi-millionaire pop star, does this mean I can charge you double for my painting?” If you thought the laugh he gave earlier was big, it was nothing in comparison to the one he gave now. Leaning forward he tackles you so that your back falls against the sofa, him leaning over you, pinning you in place.

“Careful love,” he says before kissing you again.

The remaining week that Yoongi stayed in the village felt like you were living another life. Your lunch time walks continue, but on top of that he comes round to yours for dinner most nights, and also occasionally sits in your studio while you work. He brings his work along to the ‘studio dates’, as Yoongi dubbed it, and though you ask he still won’t allow you to listen to his new music. And towards the end of the week, he even starts sleeping over at yours.

That’s how you wake on his final day, in his arms. Feeling a light kiss to the top of your head you groan as you realise that this would be the last day that you wake up like this. Though it had only been a few days, and you still didn’t fully know the guy, you aren’t sure how you are going to cope when he finally leaves.

You both try to spend your remaining day in blissful unawareness, ignoring the fact that this will be your last day together for who knows how long. Seoul wasn’t far away, but it wouldn’t be as easy to see him after today.

It’s when he packs his bag into his car and pulls you into a hug that your barriers break. All the emotions you’d been keeping at bay that day come crashing out and you cry in his arms. He holds you slightly tighter, hand stroking your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

“It won’t be long until we see each other again,” he whispers into your ear. “And we can call and text all the time.”

“I know, I’m just being stupid,” you blubber at him. ”I’m just going to miss you so much.”

He pulls your head away from his chest, gently run his thumb under your eyes to rid you of tears. “Firstly, you aren’t being stupid. Secondly, I’m going to miss you too. I’m going to miss our lunch time walks, coming to yours for dinner, watching you work. I’m going to miss waking up to you in the mornings. I’ll miss all of it.” He places a light kiss to your lips after the words and you melt into him.

Foreheads resting against each other, he whispers out, “I should probably get going.”

Taking a deep breath, you slowly nod your head. A light kiss is placed on your lips before he fully pulls away. You watch as he gets into the driver's seat and then drives off into the distance.

You cry yourself to sleep that night.

“Why don’t you just move to Seoul?” Molly says after witnessing a week of you moping around.

“Because I like it here,” you reply.

“Don’t be dumb, no one likes it here.”

“Then why do you stay?”

“I own a shop here.”

“Well I own a house with an art studio in it,” you pout.

“You can move that art studio anywhere,” she rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh yeah? You want to explain how I would be able to afford the prices in Seoul?”

“I’m sure Yoongi would help you.”

“I don’t want him to help me. It’s not his responsibility to help me.”

“Would you at least just look into it? I’ll come with you to look at places. Please. I have never seen you as happy as you were when he was here. I want you to always be that happy, and moving house should be a small price to pay for that happiness.”

“It’s not just moving house though. He doesn’t live in Seoul. He travels around the world, he is busy, he doesn’t have time for me.”

“Doesn’t have time for you? Then how do you explain the texts he sends you almost every second, how do you explain the fact he has already tried to get dates to see you? You are making excuses for this to not work. You need to stop worrying and jump straight in. You won’t know if it will work or not until you actually give it a go.”

You hum at her, unsure how to respond to her words. They rung true in your head, maybe you were pulling away from Yoongi, as much as you liked him you had insecurities and his life style really brought those out in you. But you also did want to try and see where it could go, you didn’t want to let your insecurities get in the way of something you had never felt before.

“Let’s just look. You aren’t committing to anything, you are just looking,” Molly says.

After a small pause you agree.

You’d had a full day of looking at different spaces around Seoul. Ranging from flats that could house you and a studio space, to flats that didn’t, to separate studio spaces altogether. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, but as you hugged Molly goodbye and she got in her car to drive home, you made the trip to Yoongis apartment.

On arrival you were swept into hugs and kisses. It was a welcome you could get used to.

“I missed you,” Yoongi says between kisses, slowly dragging you into the house, eventually finding his sofa.

“I missed you too,” you say in your new position, which was basically being pinned down by Yoongi.

After some catching up physically, Yoongi eventually lets you move enough to sit up. He quizzes you on the places you had visited today, commenting on locations, asking for pictures of the places. You could tell he was excited by the prospect of you moving closer to him, and though you had told him that you’d been thinking of making the move way before meeting him, saying it would help further your art career, you knew that he knew the real reason behind the move, him.

You asked about his day, listened when he told you about his early start, his dance practice and an interview he did. Thinking you’d had a long tiring day now sounded like a whiney excuse.

“And,” he pauses for dramatic effect.

“What?” You start to grow worried at the suspense.

“I got you a present,” he smiles, slowly standing up.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” you grow a tad embarrassed.

He leaves the room and then renters just as quickly, hands now behind his back.

“Close your eyes,” he states and when you don’t comply he repeats it with a small pout and whine so that you do it. “Now, hold out your hands,” his voice is now much closer.

You feel something solid but light press down on your hands, and your heart rate picks up as you sense what it might be.

“Now, open your eyes,” his voice comes out as a whisper this time.

You slowly peel your eyes open, and they widen in shock at what is in your hands. You shake slightly as you grip the CD tighter in your grasp eyes flicking over every inch. You slowly peel off the note that is attached and read it.

An exclusive for my biggest fan. Sorry it’s not more like ABBA.

“You used my art?” Tears prick at your eyes instantly at the sight of the painting you did for him on the front of the album.

“It’s kind of why I commissioned it,” he says. “I thought a piece of art by the person that inspired all the songs would be very fitting.”

“You what?” Words fail to commute in your head as you take in what he says.

“I came to your village for a break. I was struggling to get inspired to write music and the company decided that they could free up some time and I could go away and try and get back on track I guess. I wasn’t necessarily intending to stay in the village for that long, but the place interested me. You interested me. And the more I spoke to you the more I found myself being able to write songs.”

“You wrote songs about me?” It still was struggling to make sense to you.

“I probably wrote enough songs about you to fill five albums, not one,” he chuckles lightly.

You look back down at the CD in your hand, tears still falling down your face.

“This is the nicest, sweetest thing anyone has ever done,” you drop the album onto sofa next to you and instead pull Yoongi into your arms.

Yoongis arms encompass you into a tight yet soft hug. And in that moment you know that the decision to move to Seoul was right. That you wanted to try as hard as you could to be with Yoongi. That although it would be hard, it was a journey you were willing to take. Because even if it didn’t work out, any minute you got to spend with the man would be worth a lifetime.

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commanderserwin · 4 years ago

Text

magic pill!

↦ pairing(s): eren yaeger x reader

↦ word count: 2k

↦ anon request:

Summary for skittish Eren and Reader: Hange’s experiments went wrong on Eren after he took the pills given to him which caused him to turn 15cm tall, but retained his human form and ends up completely nude as a predicament. Next Eren felt nervous and scared with his current form and frantically tried to ask Hange, Mikasa, Armin, and Reader on when he’s going to change back, but no luck. Later at night Reader stayed with Eren to comfort him until the next morning where he turned back to normal.

↦ author’s note(s): is this skittish enough for you?? teehee here we go!! had so much fun with this! although i don’t know if you wanted literally 15 centimeter eren or 15 meter eren, assuming that the cm is just a typo? but i went ahead chose for myself, and voila! here you have a 15 meter tall eren! thanks for the request, i hope you like it!

magic pill - two

╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍╍

"Hange... how," Eren nervously asked, looking at the pill and at Hange holding it with a wide smile, "How sure are you that it's going to work?"

"Well," Hange chirped, holding the pill between her fingers, "That's what we don't know since we are experimenting. And you are our test subject."

Eren looked around, his anxious eyes setting on Mikasa, Armin, Hange, and yours as he looked back again at the pill. He has mused at how much he is nervous of the experiments but anything to help the cause of humanity. He still have no idea what this pill was supposed to be for, but he heard the words between the lines of 'titan,' 'big,' 'small,' and 'unsure,' that he really is unsure of what's supposed to happen.

Mikasa and Armin looked at Eren anxiously as well, setting a tense silence between you all. Mikasa looked nervous, as she fiddled with her scarf while Armin is almost close to puking, thinking of what the pill is. Hange looked fairly proud of her work, as she should as most of her experiments have greatly added to the titan and human histories. You... well, you were also nervous and proud since you were here to witness the use of the pill, so you gave soft pats on Eren's shoulder.

"Hange worked hard on it," you boasted, looking at the section commander who is smiling in thanks for your comment, "I'm sure it's safe. Right, Section Commander?"

"Of course," Hange squealed, adjusting her glasses. She handed Eren the pill and he took it with trembling fingers as he twirled it around his hand. "Go on, we'll be here."

Eren looked around once more as he walked a couple of steps away from all of you. He looked at the menacing pill, and swallowed it. You nodded and smiled softly, clutching your clipboard and pen for any drastic changes to him, as Hange assigned you to take notes. Hange pushed you all back, backing up with her arms at a safe length, and called on to Moblit to 'Hurry up, Moblit! Come here quick!' with Moblit's faded voice replying, 'No, wait!'

"What?!" Eren yelled, holding on to his throat, he looked nervously at Hange, "Did I take the correct pill?"

Moblit finally entered, panting and bent over as he handed Hange a similar pill. "This... take this, not that."

Hange shrieked, and pinched Moblit on the arm, "What do you mean not that? Eren's already swallowed i!"

You smiled apologetically, and slowly looked up at Eren. He's... turning into a gigantic, Eren. Still human, very much so as he shouted loudly, covering his privates as his clothes broke from the seams. All of you looked up, silent, and in shock. There he was. Eren. Huge. Nude. Going crazy out of his damn mind.

"Oh,oh," Hange repeated, nervously chuckling as Moblit sighed deeply, and they both said it, "Shit."

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

They all left the both of you and Eren alone. Running back to the laboratory for help of others and science. You scribbled notes on your clipboard, uneasily, being left alone with huge Eren, and he's stark naked.

You sighed embarrassingly, looking up quick with a blush on your cheeks to examine Eren for not too long for him to be uneasy as well. Eren chuckled nervously, and cleared his throat in attempt to converse. "How long until you finish, uhm, writing?"

"In a minute," you answered nonchalantly as you scribbled, but the truth is you are shaking in embarrassment, tips of your ears red.

"Like you haven't seen me naked."

"Oh?!"

"No!" Eren hurriedly sputtered, holding out one arm as he clucthed his privates, "No! What I mean, is you know, my titan form is naked, so it's not like you haven't seen-"

You were properly blushing. Full-on. You fiddled with your pen and clipboard, trying to keep your eyes on your hands.

"-me naked? Right? Oh! Oh!"

Eren chuckled, "I shouldn't really wave my hand around."

"Yeah," you agreed, chuckling as well, looking up for a second and back down again.

"You think," he began, his voice shy, "Do you think you could turn around for me so that I could sit down without..."

"Of course!" You blurted, turning around quickly, and covering your eyes with the clipboard. "Just tell me if you're okay. Or if I should just face away, because, you know."

"Can you move a few steps to the left?"

"Sure."

"More?"

"Okay."

"Just a little bit?"

"Oh, yeah!"

"Okay, that's fine," Eren sheepishly said.

You felt the ground shake underneath your feet as Eren moved around, sitting down on the ground, his knee right at your face. Even when, he's sitting down, you still looked so small. He lifted his index finger, comparing the size of his finger and you behind your back. He smiled, joking with himself, "My index finger is still bigger than you."

He doesn't know why he said that when you stayed quiet. He wants to beat himself up for it. He rubbed his hands over his face, contemplating still. He cleared his throat, placing his hands on his private. "You can turn around now."

You did slowly, chuckling seeing how closer and yet so far away he still is. You stood infront his big toe, comparing the size of his toe to your clipboard. "Your toe is still bigger than my clipboard."

Both of you laughed, thankful that each of you are trying to make things a little bearable. He's grateful you joined him at his silly joke, and laughed even harder, sure that everybody from within the raidus could hear it, "Let me take a note of that, then."

Eren nodded, chuckling as he watched you playfully do so. The sun was already starting to set, watching the orange skies grace the horizon. "When do you think they'll be back?"

"Soon, I hope," you yawned, taking off of your jacket in the summer heat, waiting when they'll be back. "How's the weather up there?"

He laughed, yawning as well. It was pretty stressful day. Eren thought it was just going to be an another easy experiment day, the usual with his Section Commander, experimenting with his titan form and writing notes. But he didn't imagine in a thousand years that this is what will hapepen. He could still feel the horror of feeling his clothes shrink and break, and his limbs elongate as he felt himself grow taller, and taller, and taller, until he's at the level of the trees. He watched you scribble rapidly on your clipboard, while the rest shouted and repeated asked Hange what happened, as she also didn't know.

Eren watched you yawn again, and you looked up at him hesistantly, avoiding looking at his crotch, "Do you want me to go and find them?"

"No!" He said, shaking his head, eyes wide. He's actually scared of this whole situation, and he didn't want to be all alone. "No, actually, can you stay with me? Until this is over?"

You looked up, nodding, walking towards his lower leg to pat him gently. "I'll stay with you, don't worry."

He smiled, thankful. "The night's settling in," he commented, tilting his head towards the low sunset, "Do you want to sleep in first? I'll keep watch."

"That'd be nice," you nodded, putting away your clipboard and pen next to your jacket. "Although, you can sleep in too? We're fine right here so no need to keep watch. But if you... prefer?"

"It's okay," he replied. You turned around quickly, stepping away again and feeling the ground quake under his large body.

Eren manuevered around, hiding his junk while he tried to find a pefect way to lay down. He laid down on his side, his knees to his chest, trying to hide his privates, and his arm was sprawled on the ground , while his other arm was tucked beneath his cheek for added comfort. He watched you turn around a few seconds later to face him, and he watched with his large green eyes as how you gingerly lay down beside him.

You picked a perfect spot, laying down below his sprawled arm and beside his neck. You looked up quickly, tucking your hair behind your ear, surprised that Eren was also looking at you. "Good night, I guess?"

He needed, mouthing a little 'Good night,' watching you look away, and folding your knees upward, while you kept your hands under your cheek. He closed his eyes as he saw you settle in, trying to fade away the sounds of the ground, but everything was too loud, probably from his bigger ears as well. He opened his eyes slightly, keeping focused on the tree ahead, waiting for the others to come. He peaked down at you, smiling gently when he saw you scratch your legs, face, and swat awat your hair to keep it out of your face. It continued in intervals, and he chuckled soflty not to scare you.

"Can't sleep?"

You turned around, laying on your back with your hands clasped behind your head. "I could feel you inhale and exhale through your nose," you mused, scrunching up your nose as you smiled, "It feels like I'm somewhere in the air with all the wind."

Eren laughed, his chest shaking as he laid down on his side, still looking at you. He blew softly, laughing again when he saw your hair just swoop past your face. He chuckled even deeper when you looked up, with an incredulous look on your face.

"I might just get myself blown if you do that again," you joked, fixing your hair, as you looked up at the stars. You listened to his chest rumble in steady beats, feeling the flow of it as it lull you into a sleep you tried to fight. You feel your eyes closing, and you sighed deeply to mask the yawn that was supposed to be.

"Just go to sleep," he whispered against your whole body, making you stare at his green eyes.

You yawned loudly, covering your mouth. You nodded, turning again, but facing him. You looked at his bare neck, as you curled up again, slowly listening to his steady breaths, as it lulled you once more, your body welcoming the rest.

╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾╼╾

In the morning, you woke up to someone breathing heavily down your cheek. You whipped your head in question, surprised that Eren has turned into his normal self, but still naked. His naked body covered yours, creating a shadow over you. You moved quietly, careful not to touch his arm above your head, as you stretched to get your jacket from behind it. Eren stirred in his sleep slightly, his face twitching, and once he steadied, you reached out and covered his privates with your jacket. You also grabbed your clipboard and scribbled quickly to not awaken him.

Eren stirred again, and this time he yawned loudly, scratching his cheek as he surveyed his surroundings. He saw you scribbling and you looked up sheepishly, quickly fixing your hair and clothes. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he repeated, adjusting the jacket covering him, blush appearing on his cheeks, "Reporting again?"

"Yes," you gently said, as you finished up. He watched you finish your work, and you yawned again. You looked over at the horizon, the sun rising.

"Glad to see I'm back now," he sighed, relief flooding his face. He turned to you as you sat on your knees, "I'm sorry for all the naked-."

"No!" You blushed, waving your hands, "It's okay."

Eren perked up, blushing as well, wanting to comment some more but then he heard and saw the hurried bodies of people running towards the both of you. He propped himself up on his elbows, his back on the grass, as he tilted his head to get a better view. You inclined your head over, watching the people gather quickly. Both of you watched them ran, screaming 'We've got it! Don't you worry!'

Both of you laughed, waiting for them to come closer to just see Eren back to normal.

#eren yaegar #eren yaeger imagine #eren yaegar imagines #eren x reader #eren yaeger headcanons #attack on titan #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyojin #aot imagines #aot imagine #aot eren #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger imagine #snk imagines #snk imagine

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ajoy3fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Soup for the soul

The car that killed me must have been going 20 over the limit, if not more. It didn’t help that the weather was not ideal- a fine shimmer of rain, overcast skies. A less than perfect condition for a walk, certainly so for someone without an umbrella. I had given it to my neighbor, a young girl of 10, out on an errand for her ma. The air felt charged, like the skies would open at any moment and pour down on me. I know I looked both ways before I ran across the street- would never have stepped foot on the black tar without doing so. That was the last thing I remembered, as the back of my head hit the pavement. Thick, warm blood oozed out, outlining my frame as it dribbled down. I struggled to keep my eyes open. The clouds really did look like they were opening-

I sat up abruptly, rubbing the back of my head. It hurt- at least, it should hurt. I had to squint against the brightness of my new surroundings. White- blinding, pearlescent tones everywhere. Good glittered from any tangible object- tables, chairs- all spread out. The room seemed to go on forever.

I knew the car hit me. Knew that I should be in dire need of medical assistance, but as I carded my fingers through my black curls, they came back dry.

“This must be heaven.” I say it low, a whisper. That must be his table. A seat at his table! I knew then that I had made it. My hard work, dedication to the good book, kind deeds, selfless acts- all of it saved my soul. I always pictured pearly gates, angels in feathered wings waiting to judge me as I dropped in. I quickly turned, hoping to see any sign of Gabriel.

No one. Not a being. Not a soul. Was this purgatory? Forced to wait in limbo?

Finally, I heard footsteps . It may have been minutes, could have been days- but the relief I felt when I saw the robbed figure walk towards me was the same. “Wait!” I called. “I’m ready to be judged!”

The angel turned my way, a bundle of vegetables in his arms. The orange of the carrots was a stark contrast to the environment, yellow potatoes were round, cleaned of all dirt.

“You’re ready?” He asked incredulously, “but you have nothing prepared.”

I lunged towards him, eager to plead my case. “Look in the book angel, you’ll see how good my soul is-“

“-soup.” He corrected.

“Soul.” I repeated slowly, feeling very unsure of this angel. “My soul is good!” At that, the angel let out a tired sigh.

“Don’t tell me humans are still reading that outdated version.” It was more to himself than to me. “That book has a typo.”

“Excuse me?” I could feel my panic rising, and suddenly I wondered if I was actually in heaven. I thought I was supposed to feel an overwhelming sense of calm, not confusion.

“We’re looking for good soup, not good souls.” He explained.

“Soup.” I managed to repeat, astounded. “Soup?! What on earth would you need soup for?!”

“Exactly!” He exclaimed, “you have it on earth, but not here. We’re looking to create a fully sustainable paradise. The basics are good soil knowledge, solitary care of animals- all things that seemed to be commonplace until recently. You lot seem to be growing in numbers with less usable skills. Tell me, do you know how to till land?” He let loose the vegetables in favor of grabbing my hands to inspect them. The carrots and potatoes floated, waiting to be collected.

I shook my head no. “Of course not. You know how to cook? At the very least, if food were provided, you could chip in and assist in the kitchens?”

I shook my head no again, completely bewildered. “I always ordered out.”

“And what did you do, before you came here?” Talk about holier than thou.

“I worked in advertising.” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat.

“What good would that do us here? ‘Heavens pretty great’ I think we got the message covered by now.”

“So I’m going to hell because I can’t cook?” I felt my anger rising. “I lived a good life!”

“Fantastic.” The angel said, “A good life should fill everyone's bellies. I’ll just let the farmers know that they can put down their plows, you’re good life will keep us fed.”

“But- But I followed the rules-”

“Of a typo.” He nodded his head, as if he understood my point.

“How was I to know that?!” I was yelling now, desperate.

“We have sent several signs to remediate the error. We are no longer taking beings based on the mistake. Enough time has passed-”

“What signs? Where have the signs been that I needed good soup to get into heaven?”

“Chicken soup for the soul? Soulfood? Ever hear of Hell's Kitchen?”

My jaw was slack, I tried in vain to close it several times. “You’re telling me I should have figured out that God wanted me to make soup, based on Hell’s Kitchen?”

The angel smiled. “Gordon is doing the Lord's work.”

“This isn’t right.” I looked around at the tables, the angel with an armful of raw food. “I thought heaven was supposed to be a place of peace, you know, ease? Why? Why the focus on food? I thought this was our reward for a lifetime of work?”

“This is a reward. Unlimited food to be harvested, never a famine. You can work but never feel tired. No ailments, never hunger.. Your needs being met, a full belly and a lifetime with those you are about are not reward enough?”

“No, I-”

“Leave it to humans to attach their own ideals to heaven, make it about them and their wants. Sorry to break it to you, but paradise requires give and take. It's a collective. We all have to pitch in to keep it going. We're a community here.” The way he said it made it sound like the decision was already made, book or no book.

“I can do other things, I can- I can clean! Or- or…- I can learn! Teach me angel!” I begged. “I can’t go to hell because I ordered take out.”

“Just go back.” He waved. “Too much time has passed for you to return to your body. Just reincarnate.” He waved over to the left, and suddenly a sign appeared, an arrow pointing down.

“You expect me to jump off the side of- whatever this is- and just… start again?”

“Exactly.” He shrugged. “Maybe pick up some gardening skills while you’re down there too.”

I walked to the edge- there was suddenly an edge- and looked down.

“How do I know this won’t really kill me?” I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

The angel turned, leaving me at the precipice alone. As he walked, he called over his shoulder, “It's a leap of faith.”

The weather wasn’t ideal on the day that I died. The clouds had looked like they would open up at any moment and release the rain. I wondered if I would still go through the storm on the way down.

I found this prompt on @writing-prompt-s, and thought it would be fun to write! I hope this doesn't offend anyone- that is not my intention. I don’t typically share the short stories I write outside of my fandoms, but since I used their prompt, I wanted to share :)

#short story #the people you meet in heaven #typos #writing prompt #writing-prompt-s #soulfood #chicken soup for the soul #something to pass the time #hope this doesn't offend anyone!

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yourcoffindoor · 4 years ago

Text

Bulletproof Heart Pt. 3

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

AN: Without further ado, here’s part 3! Sorry if there’s any typos that I missed, I kind of speed edited this one. I have one more part planned for this series, so the end is coming up soon. Hope you enjoy!!

From city to city, crowd to crowd, the tour continued on, and you went on with the show, your unwelcome encounter with Alex only making you more tenacious, more determined to outperform every band there.

You put on an unaffected front, making it seem as if you couldn't care less that he was playing Warped tour as well. Gavin was the only band member who knew about your history, and he fluttered about you like a mother hen ready to offer comfort or homicide at the drop of a hat. He would regularly attempt to gauge your feelings, but it only served to make you withdraw deeper into yourself, denying that could ever be shaken by his presence.

But the truth was you were shaken. You were scared. Scared that you would one day see that face smirking at you from a crowd and freeze, unable to ignore a presence so heavy and halting like a storm cloud threatening a downpour.

And then there was Gerard. You hadn't seen him since your first show, but your thoughts turned toward him again and again. What must he have thought that day, when Alex forced his way between you? When you stormed off alone? If he had tried to come and speak to you since that day, you hadn't heard anything. Did he think that there was still something left between you and Alex?

It was that thought that caused the most pain every time it crossed your mind, and you hated yourself for it. At night when you were alone your thoughts went around and around in the same infuriating cycle, from not caring what anyone had to think about you, to anxiously wondering if Gerard had someone else he was sharing that crooked smile with. You never let the words cross your mind or leave your lips, but your heart beat constantly with the hopeful thought: Please don't think that I could have feelings for anyone else.

Meanwhile, the Parties never ended--in fact they seemed to grow in boisterousness, picking up attendees like a tornado gathering wind. Your band mates went every now and again to socialize, but They held no value for you. Primarily because the chance of running into Alex was far too high-- You knew he would never miss an opportunity to get shit faced, and he would probably be skulking around in hopes of seeing you there, ready to latch on and torment you further. But beyond that, the chance of running into Gerard was likely to be less than zero.

That didn't stop your band mates from encouraging you to loosen up, hoping to pop the contemplative bubble that you'd encased yourself in for weeks.

"I'm gonna head out. What are you up to tonight? You should take a break from everything." Gavin suggested before heading out one night, despite knowing full well you'd die before you'd agree.

"I'll find something to keep me busy."

"I'd tell you to come with, but I know a certain someone you're crushing on won't be there."

"Oh really?" You flipped through a book on the table in front of you, playing dumb and failing miserably at it. "I do not know to whom you are referring."

"Yeah poor guy. Frank told me that there's too much pressure to drink here, so he's always in the bus alone. Bored. Desperate for human contact."

You gave Gavin the side-eye. "Alright alright, we get it."

He laughed. "Their bus is five down on the left. Y'know, if you feel like it. Thank me later." He said, darting out the door before anything could be thrown at him.

You rolled your eyes and flipped through the book, trying to read and forget the information that was just dropped in your lap. You remembered when you and Gerard had last spoke, how shy he looked when he attempted to invite you over before being cut off by Alex's sudden arrival.

Maybe a quick stop wouldn't hurt, you thought to yourself. He was in the middle of asking me to anyway...

Before you knew it you were on your feet, flinging on a jacket and taking a step outside. It would be the nice thing to do after all, since he can't leave the bus...

It took a bit of searching, but you finally found a bus with My Chemical Romance painted on its side in large black letters. Your heart did its familiar flutter as you walked up to the door, raising your hand and giving a rapid succession of knocks.

You heard a slight shuffle from inside, and after a few moments Gerard answered, his face changing from one of confusion to a soft smile as he shook the hair from out of his eyes.

"I hope this isn't a bad time," you said sheepishly, "I was told I could find some good comics here."

He flicked his spent cigarette to the ground, blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. "Is there ever a bad time for comics? Come on in."

You followed him inside, and he stopped suddenly. "Aw shit." he muttered.

"What is it?" you asked, concerned.

"I just realized we're fucking slobs."

He wasn't wrong, you observed with a laugh. The interior of the bus was divided into piles of organized chaos; clothes tossed into piles on the floor and empty chairs, makeup left open and scattered amongst soda cans by every available counter space. A few stray guitars sat soundless, happily resting until their next performance.

Gerard was obviously a bit embarrassed by the state of the place, as evidenced by the faint red blush that clouded over his nose and cheeks.

"Yeah, so its not exactly Buckingham Palace in here..." he joked, one hand anxiously running through his dark hair. His bashfulness only endeared him to you further.

"Well my bus actually IS Buckingham Palace, and it looks just about the same so don't feel too bad."

"Perfect. Anything to make you feel more at home." He mused, relocating some crumpled clothes from a small sofa nearby. "Have a seat, your majesty."

"I haven't seen you around in awhile." You noted as he hastily shoved things into cupboards.

"I've basically turned into a hermit when I'm not performing. Since I can't step outside without seeing a bottle, I don't really have much choice."

So Gavin was telling the truth. Hm.

"Well, the hermit lifestyle is probably underrated anyway."

He laughed softly. "Oh for sure. And I'll show you whats been keeping me busy this whole time."

Gerard shuffled to the back of the bus for a moment before returning with an armload of comic books, laying them proudly on the table in front of you. "These are some of my current favorites," he began after taking a seat beside you, close enough for you to admire the look of sheer happiness in his expression as he spoke. He was clearly in his element. "This one here has some of the best coloring I've ever seen."

You must have stared at him for a bit too long because he caught your affectionate glance and paused.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," you said, immediately breaking eye contact as heat flooded your cheeks. "Its just nice to hear you talk about them. You're so passionate about it."

He laughed. "Well its also nice to talk about them with someone who gets it."

You felt like you could fly right out of your skin. Everything about him made you feel a sense of belonging that you hadn't found with anyone else before.

"Hey when do I get to see that comic you said you were working on? I think you mentioned that the last time I saw you."

"Oh you remembered! Uh, one sec, I'll pull it out."

He wandered back into the unknown void that was his bunk, and came back with a folio filled to the brim with concepts, sample panels and character sketches.

"I'm pretty proud of this. Its a work in progress so uh...be gentle."

You knew Gerard was talented, but you were taken aback at the skill and creativity that had gone into this endeavor. Here he had created a world entirely his own and you were drawn in immediately.

"Gerard this is fucking fantastic! Seriously I need a full length comic right now."

"Right now? I'd rather talk to you."

You and Gerard talked as if you'd known each other forever. You found him to be witty and charming, but most importantly sincere; and the conversation flowed with ease.

"You know I'm a little surprised. I wouldn't have expected a guy like you to be alone in his bus on a big tour like this."

He laughed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean there's a lot of bands here that seem like they're only motivated by the attention they can get from girls. You're not like that."

"Its never been about that for me. I find those guys just as annoying as you do." He paused for a moment, hesitating as if he was unsure if he should continue. "Speaking of annoying...That guy, Alex--"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about him. I didn't even know he was gonna be on this tour since I haven't spoken to him in ages. I'm doing my best to avoid him."

"You seemed pretty upset when I saw you last. Just wanted to make sure he wasn't bothering you or anything."

You paused for a moment, replaying his words in your head to process them. Gerard not only noticed your reaction to Alex, he remembered and was concerned?

"So you guys aren't like...a thing anymore?"

"NO," you said a bit too eagerly. "I mean no, definitely not. I'd have to be crazy."

"Good," he replied softly, "I mean, I'm glad as long as you're happy."

You realized you had been making eye contact with his lips, the pair of you inching closer to each other with every syllable.

Your breath slowed, and you tucked a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "And...there's no one that you're involved with?"

"No," he confirmed without missing a beat, "but there is someone I have in mind."

If there was a speed limit for heartbeats, you would have been violating the law. Your next words came out almost as a whisper. "And who would that be?"

Hazel eyes flashing, Gerard cupped the side of your face with one hand, and you instinctively moved closer to meet his lips. The kiss felt like it was part dream, too good to be true as endorphins flooded your veins, a heat kindling in your stomach. You couldn't begin to tell if it lasted seconds or minutes, but still when your lips parted, it felt too soon.

"Oh." was all you could say, and the pair of you merely grinned, satisfied to be silent in the aftermath.

You caught a glance at your watch. 1:05 AM.

"I can't believe I have the willpower to do this," you began reluctantly, "but If I don't head back now I'll end up living here."

"I don't see the problem." he remarked, and you punched him in the arm.

"Thanks for a great night." you pecked him on the cheek, and before he had time to react, you jumped up and made your way towards the door.

"Come back anytime for more talk about comics!" he called after you with a laugh.

Your cheeks were buzzing and a warmth spread through your veins, giddy from your night with Gerard. You paused outside of your bus door, taking a deep breath to try and steady your heartbeat. You didn't want to rouse any suspicion from your band mates-not yet anyway. You just wanted to keep this moment to yourself for awhile.

After you cooled down, you quietly opened the door, hoping nobody would notice you sneaking in and that you could hop straight into your bunk. Instead you were met with Gavin and Liz sitting down on the sofa, looking very concerned.

"Hey," you said with hesitation, "Everything alright?"

They shared an uncomfortable look.

"Y/N, I'm not sure how to put this..." Liz began, fumbling with her fingers in an attempt to find the right words.

"What's going on?" you felt the blush from only moments ago drain away into cold dread.

"Its Alex," Gavin explained, "He and his band have been going around with a camera getting girls to flash them in exchange for backstage passes..."

You rolled your eyes. "So he's still trash. What does this have to do with me?"

"Well, the thing is, he's been telling people he has video of you. And him. Together. And that its gonna be included with the rest of the fucked up footage they're recording."

Your pulse started racing, erasing your giddy buzz from only moments before. You slumped into the nearest chair, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I never even knew I was being filmed..." you said softly. Nausea bubbled in your stomach as you were unwillingly dragged back into your intimate memories, a place you had successfully moved on from in recent years but whose impact you could never truly erase.

"Are you ok?" Liz asked, her voice low and gentle as though she was afraid you were about to shatter. Those words were all you needed to be set off.

"No. No I'm not fucking okay." You stood up suddenly from your chair, pacing. "Do you know how hard it was to leave that situation? Do you you know you much I struggled to make a life an a name for myself? How I had to rebuild myself after him? And now this?" You were shaking, your voice trembling with pent up emotion. "This was supposed to be an amazing, once in a lifetime experience. The beginning of everything for us. So why can't I just be left the fuck alone!"

Your band mates called after you as you stormed to your bunk, pulling the curtains tight behind you and burying your face in your pillow. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself break down, your unhindered sobs turning your pillow into an ocean.

#gerard way fanfic #gerard way x reader #gerard way imagine

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likesomekindofcheese · 4 years ago

Text

Promised Part 3 (The Great Mini series)

Pairing: Grigor Dymov x fem! Reader

Word Count: 8K (more on the thicc side. So be ready)

Summary: You are bethrothed to the Russian Count Grigor Dymov in order to secure an alliance for your family and people with Russia from breaking. The day has finally arrived, your wedding day and night and all that entails

Part One//Part Two

Smut Scene for this Part (18+ only please)

Warnings: Typos!!!! mentions of sex, marriage, family, swearing, dogs, Emperor Peter being Emperor Peter, drinking, drunkenness, weddings, and religion. The fear of rape is briefly discussed.

A/N: It’s finally here! Yay for wedding fics! For a few notes, I based the wedding ceremony from Russian Orthodox practices (since that is the religion obviously in the show of the court) so if I get something wrong about anything sacred, please drag me gently. Second, the gift mentioned in the middle part is, fun fact! An actual historical practice between couples! (I just though it would enhance the story). And third, I decided not to include a smut scene for those reading this fic underage...that part will be worked on and published separately. Fourth, I am thrilled and overwhelmed with all of the love shown for this miniseries. I am having a ball writing it! Enjoy!

Russian Wedding ceremonies were making your head turn. Already there were so many things to do you wondered if you could remember them by tomorrow. And this was the only rehearsal you had.

The tall priest, who you found out was called Archie, stood before you both. He practiced speaking a monotone blessing and made the sign of the cross over you.

“Next, you’ll be given candles…” he advised, waving his hands out.

Two men walked by to hand you both a candle (“for the ceremony, they will be lit, but they aren’t. So just be careful.”) You recognized that Arkady gave Grigor his candle and the bespectacled man you have seen greeting you when you entered handed you yours.

“Thank you…uhm…sorry, I’ve seen you around, but…” you asked.

“Count Orlo, Lady Y/L/N”, he greeted, with a polite nod.

“Thank you Orlo,” you muttered.

“Of course! Well, welcome to Russia! If you need any-”

Archie glared at Orlo icily until he scurried away, head ducked in embarrassment.

“Now let us continue…”

He said a line of scripture in a way that seemed mystical, close to ecstasy, his eyes closed and hands open to the sky. After a while, the droning lost its magic pull and became dull.

You and Grigor glanced at each other, making sure Archie wasn’t able to notice in all his holiness.

“We have to practice the puppy after this- would you like to see?” you whispered.

“I’d take watching paint dry over this, of course I want to see!” Grigor replied.

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“Just give her a bit of chicken,” Count Arkady advised.

You and Grigor nodded. You leaned down to stroke the fur of your little gift. She had trotted over cheerfully when either your or Grigor said “come,” prancing as if she was the one who owned the little apartment you and your mother were staying in. Arkady handed a gold bowl of cold, roast chicken meat that you tossed to the puppy every time she did as you said. Yout mother sat in a corner, silently watching everything, but present to make sure nothing inappropriate was going on.

“Very good…now, what is your little one’s name again? I can never remember,” he asked, politely ducking his head to sneeze into a handkerchief.

The puppy looked up at you and smiled.

“I’m calling her Sonya. It’s the Russian version of Sophie, our Empresses old name. And she was the first friend I met here. Besides, it’s a Russian name and she’s a Russian dog,” you explained.

“Very well, Sonya- sit!” Arkady ordered, his handkerchief falling delicately from his free hand.

He held up a small bite of roast chicken clear enough where she could see it. She sat again. He handed it over to you and you tossed it to the floor. Wagging her tail, she ate it up.

“Good girl, Sonya! Good girl!” you praised.

So far Sonya had not caused too much trouble. The servant for Grigor had often took her out to do business when she needed it. She did bark, chew on everything, and leave droppings on the floor sometimes. But the first night in your apartments, you had trouble sleeping in this strange new place. Little Sonya hopped up on the bed and curled up next to you as you laid awake. Her warmth and licking kisses on your face were welcome when your anxious mind was trying to make you awake. And soon you slept with her little body nestled on top of your stomach.

“Keep this up, and soon you will have a trained dog. The secret is to reward them every time they’re good and be careful with discipline,” Arkady advised.

Grigor nodded. He leaned down to pick up the Sonya and scratch her head. You could not help but notice that the party man Georgiana warned about had a kind smile to the little animal. Maybe she was exaggerating to scare you.

Arkady walked over to where a serf held up a laundry basket and got rid of his handkerchief.

“She hasn’t been a bother, I hope,” Grigor turned to ask, seeing how your teacher was distracted.

“You’ll soon find out…I’m joking, she has been fine. Energetic, but fine. Nothing out of normal for a puppy,” You answered.

Arkady took it to the next serf, advising him on kinds of ways it should be cooked for the notabilities’ dogs next time. The serf sighed and nodded before leaving. He turned around gracefully, clapping his hands, and rubbing them loudly.

“How are you both feeling!? You do know what is happening tomorrow…” he teased.

You could not forget. And you wanted to. The wedding was already tomorrow.

“Yes, well…we’ve already rehearsed the ceremony this morning and…we’ll…we’ll be ready!” Grigor said.

“The candles? The crown? Hopefully, you are prepared to kiss in front of all of court, they’ll ask for that! My Tatyana and I kissed fifty times at ours!” Arkady added on sheepishly.

You put your hand to your face to hide it in embarrassment. The days past mostly consisted of eating at small dinners and teas at least with you, sometimes Grigor, and your mother or walking through the gardens with some small talk between the three of you. His arm was offered for you to hold when you walked together. But that was the most of touching you both had done. Those and the chaste, formal kisses on the cheek or hand.

“We’ll be ready, for everything,” Grigor answered.

He went over to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in slight worry at your silence. You felt a slight dizziness from how soon everything would be

Arkady dismissed himself and left, and your mother got up from her seat in the corner to see him out. You turned to Grigor, face feeling warm.

“Are we ready to…to kiss in front of everyone? Perhaps we can make it work…”

Although you bit the inside of your cheek and folded your hands, eyes darting from the floor to his face and back again.

“I…I don’t think I am…” he said. “It’s been, uh, a little while.”

He was careful to not mention or talk about Georgiana unless prompted and you thanked your stars for that. It felt like being a mouse under the eye of a hungry hawk with her walking by in corridors.

“I know we can make this work, at least for everyone we know and the alliance,” you said. “Maybe we can…practice. At least for the ceremony.”

As your mother turned around to see you both chatting, Sonya went up to her, to greet her with a bark and a wag of her curling tail. Grigor stepped forward to her.

“Lady Y/L/N, can I have your consent to kiss Y/F/N? I’d like to do it before dinner, so I don’t reek of onions,” he offered.

Your mother looked at you both, then nodded.

“Alright, I don’t see why not. But no tongues.”

You turned to him, a little unsure of what to do. Your mother and Sonya watching closely.

“I don’t know what to do with my arms,” you confess.

He took both of your hands.

“We can just hold hands for now…” he advised.

“Then you have to lean forward, right?” you asked.

“Right.”

Leaning your face forward, you could make out the dust of freckles across his nose. He paused a little. You kept still. Then looking at each other’s eyes, he gave you a slight nod and both of you went in for a peck on the lips. It was so quick, so light, it was like gulping air.

Your hands immediately relaxed and let go. A rush of exhaling air left both of you.

“Alright, would you like me to ring for tea? After dinner, you both cannot see each other until after the ceremony,” your mother offered.

She scooped the puppy in her arms and carried her over one shoulder.

“That…that sounds nice,” he added.

“Shouldn’t you be with the Emperor? Weren’t you going to drink with him?” you ask.

“He can wait. Velementov might be with him.”

Once the tea set arrived and all of you had a sip, you all began to talk, and not just about what the weather was like. He made jokes and listened to your mother. He broke off part of a plain biscuit to feed it to Sonya. She even hopped up to the couch and slept beside him as he stroked her fur.

“Well, tomorrow’s the big day, I bet you’re tired of hearing that.” Your mother sighed, setting down her empty plate.

“But…I’m still jittery, I have to say,” you said, taking a last sip of your sweet tea.

Suddenly you looked at Grigor and he took his hand and wrapped it around yours. It wasn’t in the sweaty awkwardness of having to practice kissing, but it was dry, soft, and comforting.

“I’m jittery, too, I guess. But…if it helps Russia, we’ll do it,” he added. “Y/F/N is a brave woman to do this, and she has a gentle soul, the way I’ve seen her with little Sonya. I could do worse.”

Smiling lightly at him, you muttered a thanks. His hands heat was slowly becoming comforting. The shots of adrenaline from his touch were slowing down through you.

“And you Grigor…you’ll do, I guess,” you responded quietly.

The clock struck for the late afternoon. Grigor looked at it with wide eyes.

“Oh shi- no. We have a meeting with Archie about church laws and Peter wants me there until dinner. Can I leave?” he asked.

A part of you stifled a laugh from the suppressed swearing. At this point you were almost desensitized to it in the Russian court.

Your mother nodded, “you may.”

“And can I kiss your daughter one last time? I just want to be ready for the ceremony?” he asked in a hurry.

She nodded again, raising an eyebrow revealing her actual thoughts.

He leaned down and kissed you, putting in a little bit of pressure. And something…different. It did not feel like a polite kiss, or a practice kiss. It felt like a lover’s kiss. You closed your eyes, feeling it linger for just a bit. Then finally, he let go and said his farewells, leaving with a slight hop in his step.

It was as if a ghost on your lips was still there as he walked away. It was the nicest kiss you have had so far in your life.

Even before you went to bed to try to sleep before the big day with your mother in the other room, you found yourself tracing where it was.

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The next day, the hours dragged on throughout. You saw only your mother since the wedding would be in the early evening. You found yourself staring at the clock a lot, sweating with each tick of the hands. You wished you could run to Grigor and just vent about your worry, but your mother told you it was always bad luck before the ceremony.

And a marriage like this could use a little less bad luck you thought.

By two hours time before the ceremony would begin, Mariol arrived with the ribbons and decorations to start doing your hair.

“I’m here, the Empresses treat!” she announced, but waving her hands and shrugging as if it was the same dull task as sweeping. She held a wooden box under her arm.

“Oh, oh thank you! How splendid!” your mother said, taking your hand.

Mariol put the wooden box on your vanity and opened it, revealing feathers, pearls, and other little accessories.

“Want a bow?” she asked.

“Not for me,” you refused.

Selecting a white ribbon, you clicked your tongue for Sonya to trot to you. Leaning down, you tied it lightly around her neck with a bow in the back.

“She has to look her best too…”

“But she’s not the bride. Come on, Y/N…it is time we fix your hair. Not going to have walk down looking like a pigsty.”

All the twirls, tucks, and pins in the world managed to be shoved in your head by the time you were through. You wanted to groan, but when Mariol heard Sonya’s yapping, her pulling in became gentler and her head turned.

“There you go! And for a bit of makeup…”

“Can I hold Sonya as you do it?” you asked, turning from the vanity.

Mariol’s eyes went wide.

“Wha-yes! Please!”

Amidst the small dabbing of rouge, she cooed in a high voice at the little puppy, sniffing your face curiously. Your mother sat in the back, admiring Mariol’s work and nodding in admiration, with a little compliment here or there.

But you could hardly breathe your response to the face you saw in the mirror when there was a knock on the door.

Sonya leaped from your lap and trailed Mariol as she opened the door. A familiar face poked his head in.

“Hello Y/N!” you father announced, putting away his tri-cornered hat.

With somewhat of a scream you and your mother both ran up to him. Behind him walked in your brother in a nice emerald suit and his new wife in a pretty golden dress.

You called their names and embraced all of them, fighting the urge to cry.

“What…what are you doing here? I didn’t know I would even see any of you again!” you asked.

“We managed to receive lodging near…we didn’t want to miss your wedding!” your brother said, leaning in for another hug.

Sonya yipped and jumped before your sister’s wife. She leaned down and petted her.

“Oh, when did you get this precious thing?” she asked.

You put Sonya into your arms and held the dog before everyone.

“She was a gift from Grigor,” you explain.

“Your…your fiancee?” your brother asked, eyebrows raised up.

“Yes! He…he’s nothing like…like you know who. He’s a good man. In spite all of this…” you explained, getting a little dizzy at the thought of being bound to him until death in an hour.

“But, what of the emperor? He approved?” your mother asked

“I spoke with him yesterday and asked to attend, at least I wanted to walk you down, and he agreed,” he answered.

He walked over to Sonya to feel the top of her head as well.

“We didn’t want to miss it either,” your brother chimed in.

“Well, we’re about to dress her. So, the men better head out. The ceremony is in an hour!” Mariol interrupted, she brushed her arms to shoo your father and brother away

Your mother leaned into your father.

“This palace is the size of the moon-you don’t know the way to the chapel!” she retorted she placed her hands on her hip.

She was wearing a blueish-green dress with only a few embellishments of lace here and there, along with a large lace fan that befitted the mother of the bride. You had to admire her. For a woman who never insisted she was beautiful and would call herself the reverse, this look proved the thought wrong.

“I thought I’d follow you! Just let me give her away! Please!”

She batted him lightly and shooed the men away.

With a gulp you let Mariol remove the buttons of your light day dress and set it away. With stays tied on and panniers attached, only the dress needed to be put on now. Then the gown waiting in your chest met its long-awaited fate.

She slipped it over your head. After a few touches to your already done makeup and hair, a few minutes passed in awed quietness. Your father and brother walked back in, astonished. Giving one of a dozen “you’re beautiful” compliments until you found yourself believing them too. They noted how elaborate the lace went along the opening of the skirt. That there were a few small pearls and jewels in the skirt here and there, especially with your pearl necklace, earrings, and a wedding veil attached to the top of your head. Mariol let the long lines of the veil fall over your face. The world you saw was now covered in a thin layer of white.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Y/N. No matter what happens after this, know that I love you,” your mother said, embracing you one last time.

It warmed your heart. A little. Even though the nerves still shot up your arms.

The hour struck six o clock. The door opened outside to see all of court looking at you.

There were a few murmurs of appreciation. You chose a nice white with faint hints of silver in a shade that was flattering to your skin. Little details-barely beads, but shinier- sparkled in the light. (you heard that Russian ladies were elaborate in dress and your visit and observations here were proven right).

Mother walking forward, you took your fathers arm and you headed through the palace. Your brother and his wife walked behind, walking Sonya on a small leash. Your view of the palace was blocked a little bit and you were glad of the guidance of your parents. Eyes and countless wigs turned as you both walked past.

At last you reached the chapel doors, full of gold and with saints gently looking down before you. There standing was Grigor and Emperor Peter, decked in cravats and with Peter wearing every medal on his coat you could count.

Grigor wore a wig that you could still smell the powder from. His coat was richly colored in a dark blue. He looked very striking and he turned to face you. There was a slight smile and he blinked rapidly.

Your father handed you to Grigor, and you took his hand. You both took one step into the chapel and paused as you saw the elaborate art and statues that covered the walls. Paintings of saints staring down between rows where even more courtiers sat to watch. You recognized Catherine and Georgiana from a brief glimpse. But you forced your eyes to stay on the black robes and beard of Archie at the altar.

Orlo and Arkady scurried forward with now lit candles. You nodded a thank you to Orlo who nodded back. You were both given a lighted candles and multiple prayers were said before and several bits of scripture. Then came the time to share the cup. The candles were set aside for now. Archie motioned to Grigor and he lifted your veil gently.

You looked up at him with…well, you did not know. And you could not describe the way he looked at you. It was soft, sweet, with reverence. Your eyes were beginning to water a little bit. But why were you crying? You liked Grigor, but…you were not sure how much. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, and everything seemed like a dream.

You both shared a cup of dry communal wine, and then Archie took a long golden piece of cloth, wrapping it around your joined hands.

Taking in a deep breath, Grigor began the vows, but he looked right at your eyes.

“I take you as my wife to be with you always-in wealth and in poverty, in disease and in health, in happiness and in grief, from this day until death separates us.”

He seemed like he meant it. It took you aback. You almost forgot your own vows but repeated them, albeit in a soft, shaky voice.

The vows said, Arkady and Orlo walked forward with two gold crowns that were placed on your heads in front of everyone watching. You both walked around the area of the altar in a circle. The cloth still tied with your hands together. Grigor and you took slow, careful steps.

Once the cloth was removed you were both given rings placed on each other’s fingers. but Grigor’s hands were gentle as he slipped the band into your finger. A tiny diamond sparkled in its center.

Archie read a last piece of scripture- a long and extremely dry one for a wedding. Breathing in a bit, you turned your head to look up at Grigor. His eyes shining and his mouth a little open.

He turned to look back at you and gave you another smile. A beautiful one. And this time you smiled back. For a few seconds you forgot the dreaded day you both signed that contract a month ago.

A final benediction was placed, and Archie finished. The crowns were removed from your heads. He made the sign of the cross over both of you and then turned to the crowd watching.

“Welcome to our court, the Count and Countess Dymov. Count Dymov, you may kiss the bride.”

As practiced, you both tilted your heads, leaned forward, and kissed. There was a slight spark to it and almost felt his free hand wander to your back to press you tighter.

It was done. Your family’s future, your people, and the alliance were safe. Part of you let out a small breath and looked over to your family with a knowing look, until you felt Grigor nudge you and you both walked out.

There was uproarious applause. The emperor was smug but Catherine beside him looked genuinely happy. She was dressed in a light yellow that made her seem a flower among all these over the top wigs and laces. Your brother and his wife clapped with the sweetest smiles on their faces. But the same could not be said of Georgiana, dressed in deep orange with the mark of a heart on her cheek and giving you a glare every time your eyes accidentally wandered to hers.

Both of you walked through the halls, hand in hand, among more applause and a few tossing of flower petals. You turned and he kissed your lips lightly.

“I’m not an eloquent man but you look like a fucking snowdrop with all this gold in the palace,” he whispered.

You stuttered, still grasping his hand, “th-thank you. You look very handsome as well.”

He let out a little smile as you both walked to a smaller room. A few trusted courtiers put a piece of parchment on a desk before you two. Both of you signed the marriage contract and waited for a serf to summon you to the dining room where the celebration would commence along with the dinner.

As the contract was rolled up by an old man as round as a peach (it may have been Velementov, Grigor taught you so many names it was hard to remember) and brought away, both of you were alone for a few minutes. There was an odd silence, then you turned to him.

“Grigor, I know you have had your heart broken recently and…I want to tell you, I’ll try to be a good wife to you. As possible. I’ll try to be understanding and I… won’t hurt you. Because I know how hard being hurt for you was. I might make mistakes, but I don’t want to hurt you,” you confided.

He shook his head a little.

“I don’t want to hurt you either…”

But speaking of hurt, there was the unspoken ghost in all this wedding talk that needed to be addressed. The one event you secretly dreaded the most. Clutching his arm and turning to him, you tried to think of a way to say it now that you were alone.

“Grigor…” you began, “Now we’re alone, we can talk. For…for uh, tonight, uhm…uh, I…”

You did not get to finish before a serf ran in. Without warning, he half pushed the both of you out. The Emperor and what seemed half of court was seated in the dining room. There was a flurry of huzzahs.

Emperor Peter jumped over the table, knocking over plates and silverware. You leaned out of the way of his flurrying and grabbed Grigor by the shoulder, with a pat on him. You took your seat close to the front and he made his way to your side. Peter leaned back in his chair which was always in the center. No matter what event was going on.

“Well, Grigor- you got yourself a girl at last! hope she gets every penny worth from you tonight!” he bellowed.

“Every penny worth?” you repeated.

He looked at you with a toothy smile and gulped down half of his wine.

“Oh, you should know! The Morgengabe! The Morning’s gift!” he cheered.

A serf poured you water and wine separately to begin with and a few musicians started playing, getting louder and louder.

“That what?” you asked over them.

“The morning, Gift. Its a German idea. Grigor, your wife is a bit of a dolt. At least her tits are decent,” he said.

“What’s the Morning’s gift?” you questioned.

Food began to be served on your plate, but your appetite was starting to decrease. You had a terrible guess at what it referred to. And you had to be sure it was right.

“It’s…uhm…” Grigor began, then he took a deep breath and turned to you, speaking so that you could understand every word.

“After we signed the contract when we were betrothed, there was a word between me, Peter, and your father. The dowry itself was covered. You’re not entering this union as a pauper and should you become a widow, you will have financial protection but…we all had to be sure the marriage was…”

He bit his lips, took in a breath, and continued.

“I gave over some money as promised by your father. It’s being kept with me. That money will be given to you the morning after the marriage is…uh, consummated. That way the alliance will be totally secure. Your family and Peter will know you weren’t just being thrown into a sham marriage that would make the contract weak. If it wasn’t complete, the alliance wouldn’t go through.”

“And the sooner the better!” Peter added, sticking his head between the two of you.

He looked at you and wiggled his eyebrows bawdily with a swirl of his goblet.

“I may just, you know- destroy your home country and chop off your family’s heads just for fun tomorrow because you haven’t fucked your husband!”

He leaned down to see your shocked expression and laughed.

“Well, money and a large cock, you have a lot to look forward to! Huzzah! Now where’s the vodka?”

As he gestured serfs forth to pour vodka into his goblet, you looked over at Grigor.

He took your hand and squeezed it.

“That’s the way it is?” You sighed.

“That’s the way it is here.” He confirmed, noting the worry on your face.

More guests came in. By the dozens. You could hardly even eat a bite or sip some wine or water because they kept wanting to talk to you. You were gladdened by your family and the few you were familiar with.

Then Orlo walked forward. Under his arms were a few books.

“Oh, here he comes again!” Grigor dismissed, rolling his eyes.

You lightly touched his arm, “no, let him speak!”

Orlo gave a slight bow in greeting.

“Why, hello there, Count and Countess Dymov! I’m here because I just wanted to give you a wedding gift…can you read, Countess?”

“I can,” you confirmed.

He handed you each two books.

“It’s mythologies, fairy tales…childish things. But since you are new here, you might find it entertaining to learn a little bit more about our culture. And so might Grigor.”

Grigor flipped through a few pages. He rested on one of a young girl walking through a forest with a branch that had a skull lit with a fire.

“Well, why read about an adventure when you can live it!” Grigor explained.

But you took the books gently and smiled at him.

“That’s very generous of you, Count Orlo! I’m sure my husband…” it was a new word with a taste as strange as their wine… “he would rather I read these to him for his entertainment than annoy him all day,” you teased, leaning over to look at the pictures as well.

“No, I don’t think you could! You’re not the type to annoy, Y/N” he replied. He smiled as he accepted a glass of vodka.

He nudged you and then hissed, “this is our tradition- watch!”

He stood up, but took your hand for you to stand up with him. Heads turned and noise was softened.

“To my new wife! And to my marriage! Huzzah!”

They all yelled “huzzah” back and you felt as if you could glow.

But he downed his vodka and threw his glass on the floor in a swift movement. The other members of court followed suit. There was a splatter of shattering glass like that of hail drops.

Occasionally there were yelps for a kiss. As if being actors on cue, you and Grigor would peck each others lips to their cheers. But not as many as Arkady said would happen.

As your family walked forward to hand you your dog, they had to tiptoe past broken glass as carefully as possible with lifted skirts and on their toes. Empress Catherine even walked from by her husband side to offer you congrats.

“You look very lovely and the ceremony was simple…”

“Oh, we only had a week to…”

“Oh no! I love simple ceremonies! Simple everything! They just mean more! And…are those books? You can read?”

“Yes, a wedding present from Orlo!” you nodded.

Both of you looked over the pages and stories, Catherine filling in with what she knew as you took bites of your dinner with relief. Serfs scurried with brooms to clean up the broken glass. A few dances were thrown and mingling was allowed. Knowing it was safe, you put Sonya in your arms and walked around.

Soon she barked and leaned forward, jumping out. She scurried, catching a bit of a dusky orange dress and chewing it with such passion, she shook it back and forth in her mouth with joy.

“Stop that!” the dress owner cried.

“Hey!” you cried, but right as you leaned down to stop her you recognized whose it was. And you froze with horror.

Georgiana looked as if she could see red as she analyzed you. Sonya panted happily in your arms, but you leaned away from her, as if to shield the creature from anything the Emperor’s mistress might do.

There was a solo violin striking up (Peter attempted to play).

“Well, look at you!” she said with a huff. She seemed only somewhat sad.

“Mademoiselle,” you acknowledged, head down in a curtsy. “Please, do not think me your enemy.”

“You are no threat to me.”

“No, how could I be? You are only our beloved Emperor's favorite. You hold so much prestige here. The ladies all prattle on how envious they are of you. I’ve heard them. I honor you, tremendously.” You started.

She looked at you straight in your eyes, expression unchanged from your words.

“You’re sweet. But so were your wedding cakes. And what do people with cakes? They chew them up into tiny pieces until they spit it out or ingest it until it’s nothing,” she spat.

“If you hurt me or my dog or my family, I will tell my husband about it. I am under the protection of the Dymov house.”

“And I am under the protection of the Emperor.” She replied.

The violin picked up and the Emperor called for a dance.

“Forget it. Let’s move past being like this. I’m not in love with Grigor. I’m only following my family’s orders.”

“That’s not what I see when you kiss him,” she finished as she strutted away.

The Emperor lead a brief speech for Grigor’s honor and to congratulate the marriage and the alliance it entailed. But your husband was having another sip of vodka, face flushing. As you returned to your seat he pulled you close.

“No, no, no…sit here, wifey,” he suggested. He put his hands on your waist and pulled you with immense strength over to his seat to sit on his lap.

You squealed at the closeness, feeling his breath and the outline of his body against yours. But he wrapped arms around you, beginning to kiss your cheek.

“Here, have some of these cakes, darling,” he offered, handing you one of the hundreds of small wedding cakes served for dessert.

Taking a bite, you could make out the density and the perfect amount of sweetness and flavoring.

“They’re…they’re scrumptious! Who made them?”

“Hmm, maybe the cooks. I just wanted to see your reaction to them,” he answered.

His pulled you a little closer, nuzzling into your head, neck, and shoulder area.

“My sweet wifey is soooo cute when she’s sooo happy!”

“Are you sure that isn’t the vodka talking, Grigor?” you retorted cheerfully, noting his glass.

He looked at you. Although his eyes were dilated from drink, he wasn’t a lost cause, at least not yet.

“If I’m not passed out on the floor, Y/N, I’m not drunk!” before taking another sip.

After a little bit longer, there were more songs. He was sobering some, the vodka wearing off as you offered him some water. He drank it as you stayed on his lap.

The songs were getting slower. Plates were clearing. And guests were drifting away. You balled your hands into fists and grabbed the skirt of your gown, trying to slow your breathing.

Your brother, sister-in-law and father excused themselves to take Sonya’s leash and lead her to Grigor’s apartments.

Oh, they’re our apartments now you silently corrected yourself.

Catherine and your mother came by. Grigor perked up and gently led you off of him.

“Y/N, Catherine offered to be with you when we lead you there,” your mother began.

Thanking with a curtsy, you left Grigor and followed them slightly behind to Dymov’s room. But looking behind, you admired Catherine glancing back at you with a smile and making small talk to her about books. She seemed so young despite the grandeur of her title. It was like she was just a friend of yours attending your big day.

They walked you over to the Dymov apartment. It seemed ominous with it’s red and the nighttime darkening everything thought the windows. The little dog barked and skipped in happiness when you walked in.

“Hello Sonya!” you said.

She wiggled her tail in greeting, little fuzz ball. Mariol walked forward, smiling. She seemed to look lighter and happier, spending time with little Sonya.

Your mother and Catherine unbuttoned you and pulled you dress over your head and removed the rolls from your hips. Mariol began to unlace your stays from behind.

“I…I’m so nervous I can hardly even think!” you confessed.

“Y/N, you have nothing to fear, really.” Catherine assured.

“It will be fine,” your mother assured, taking your hand.

“But…what if he…he hurts me. What if he…he rapes me. I’ve heard about that happening on wedding nights and…that’s what scares me the most.”

Catherine took your shoulder and squeezed it.

“You can tell me, and I’ll punish him. The Emperor won’t know and if you’re in danger, you can run to me. Wake me up in my chambers. I don’t care.”

“Does it…hurt when it happens?” you ask.

“When you’re new, sometimes. Especially when they are more...enthusiastic. But just a little. And not everyone feels pain the first time.” Your mother informed you.

Stays removed, Mariol began to undo your hair and wipe off what makeup was there with a cloth. You felt your hair fall down. Part of you wanted a blanket or a robe. You were in the Empress’s presence with only a shift on.

“What if I can’t…please him?” you asked.

Georgiana’s voice from earlier this week had haunted your mind considering tonight. If you did not perform well or even perform at all, you might be considered a failure to Grigor and even to your family, you feared.

Yet, why did the thought of Grigor, no, your husband scorning you for his past lover make your stomach burn with envy?

“Don’t worry, it will be alright. Just tell him ‘no’ or ‘yes’, be firm and clear. You don’t have please him…just enjoy being with him, getting to know him,” your mother directed.

“It will be okay,” Catherine repeated.

She guided your hand and you both sat on the edge of the bed. She grinned at you and you shyly smiled back.

A few minutes ticked by. Then male voices were right outside. Your heart leaped to your throat and you felt your legs freeze. Your hold on Catherine turned to a grip.

Then came the fateful sound.

There was a knock on the door.

The three of you jumped almost.

“Who is it?” Catherine asked.

“It’s Grigor, and the Emperor.”

Taking in a shaky breath, you said “you may come in.”

Grigor walked in next to Peter, who was flushed and stumbling a bit in his walk. Catherine handed you a deep green robe to wrap around yourself for a bit of modesty, seeing how embarrassed you already were at people seeing you in your shift. The three of you curtsied and the two men bowed, Peter staying low and then swaggering over to a chair. He flopped down on it, leg over an arm, and started blowing a little bird whistle.

You noticed Grigor was still in his wedding outfit and held a glass decanter of vodka and two large glasses

“Only a little while ago you were playing that,Grigor, when I was fucking the Empress on our wedding night, remember! Now we…we’ve fucking switched and now here we are!” Peter announced, blowing another shriek that erupted in spit across the floor.

Grigor walked forward and kissed your knuckles in greeting. It only struck you how handsome he was. He had a charming smile and the dark colors flattered him. He put an arm protectively over you and turned to the small group

“Thank you, everyone, it was a lovely ceremony,” he began.

“Count Dymov, do you need us to do anything?” your mother asked.

“No, mother,” he added, “and you may call me Grigor. For now, I hope you think of me as if I was a member of your family too.”

She grinned in return and addressed him by name.

“Phlah! Names shames,” Peter mocked, twirling the whistle with his fingers. Catherine looked at him with eyes wide and eyebrows down.

“How about we all have a toast to today!” Grigor announced, Holding up the decanter.

He handed a glass over to the emperor and then a glass between you both.

“I say our Emperor goes first, as our ruler and sovereign,” he suggested, pouring an extremely generous amount of vodka in the cup while giving his own only a dribble.

“I say yes! Hu—zaaaaah!” Peter cried, sucking up the vodka in a heartbeat. Grigor shared his glass with you so you could have a sip of the stuff before he finished it up.

Looking up at him, he gave you a glimmer in his eye. And you caught on.

“And let’s have a toast to the alliance! And our beloved Emperor for allowing it to happen. Huzzah!” you toasted, raising your glass.

On cue, Grigor poured another heap of vodka into Peter’s glass which he raised and swallowed down as if he were a thirsty beggar.

“Huzzzahhh f-for meeeeee,” Peter mumbled.

His face became even redder and he struggled to get out of his seat.

“Shit, w-why is everyone spinning! I order you to-to stay still!” he barked.

Everyone was already perfectly still. Catherine walked over and supported him over her shoulder.

“Let’s retire, shall we?”

“N-no! I want to…I want to watch G-G-Grigor f-f-f-uck her so I c-can…can have a good wank at it, a-at least, and m-m-maybe get my turntofuckher….ohmyfuckI’m going to vomit,” Peter announced. He ran out in a heartbeat and you heard him retch in the hallway outside.

And then the noise of his body falling on the floor.

“I will take him to his chambers,” Catherine offered.

Her eyes were alight and her pink lips tight from holding back laughter. Mariol placed an arm over her mouth as well and scurried out behind the empress. There were several footsteps and the huffing of serfs and you knew that Peter now had to be carried unconscious-and far away.

“I believe I must retire as well, good night,” your mother said.

They dismiss and leave. Now you were both alone. Your heart was racing, but you smiled and turned to Grigor in gratitude.

“That was brilliant.” You praised.

“I did have a feeling he’d want to do that. So I decided to do something about it. The vodka did get to me a little earlier,” he confessed. “But It’s worn up.”

You nodded, “yes, of course. I can tell.”

“Do you…need anything? Some water?”

“Of course.”

He walked over and got you a fresh glass poured from a crystalline pitcher. You washed away the bitter sting of vodka from your mouth and so did he. Both of you sat across from each other on the two chairs before the fire. At first all was quiet.

“Y/N…I know all of this had not happened the way we thought but…you have the support. My support. The Russian Crown. And my house and of the Dymov family, as well as our protection. You’re…you’re one of us now, it’s your right as a countess,” he promised.

I’m not Y/F/N Y/L/N anymore. I’m Y/F/N Dymov. You thought. Still unused to it.

“Thank you. I know I was quiet, but so much has been happening, today. I don’t know quite what to say,” you replied.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

You finished your water and he finished his. Another silence.

“You looked very handsome in your coat today, you’re a lovely man,” you complimented. He looked especially lovely with the fire’s glow against his face.

“Thank you, but I’m starting to get…a bit uncomfortable. May I take dress down to my shift?” he asked

“You may.”

He opened the door and brought the old man serf. The old man took away his shoes, stockings, coat, shirt, wig, and everything else, setting them away, until he was only in his shift and a pair of white breeches.

Though you stared away from him, focusing on the empty glass in your hand. He walked forward as soon as the old man set away the clothes and exited.

“Y/N…you’re tense. Are you…nervous?” he asked, kneeling down to be at your level.

You nodded, not even looking at him.

“Yes. I was scared you would…force yourself on me,” you voiced. “It’s what I was going to tell you earlier.”

He walked forward to you and put two of his hands on your shoulders, but not heavily.

“Y/N, I won’t do that…you can’t please a woman by forcing yourself on her and I…I didn’t want to displease you. I told you earlier, I don’t want to hurt you.” He reminded.

Your shoulders relaxed.

“I didn’t want to displease you either. Its just…I…I’ve never slept with anyone before. You’ve probably seen the file form the doctor we gave to Archie. There. The proof. And I…I’m just…I’m just nervous.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous as well,” he comforted.

You thought of the Morning gift, of your duty …but you noticed the outline of his body through the shift. And every time you found your eyes go to his face, they would go back to his body.

Your eyes noticed that the books from Orlo were on a desk in the corner.

“What about these?” you said.

Grigor brought them to you. You passed a bit of time flipping through them. The illustrations, even he admitted, were lovely. You both studied it, asking which tales he was familiar with, and what stories you knew of. The tiredness got to you slightly and as you both sat on the chair as he sat down beside you, you laid your head against his shoulder a little sleepily.

Sonya slept deeply in the corner. She laid down on a soft pillow, her belly full of roast chicken from the feast, and legs twitching as if chasing something. Then she woke up a bit and wandered over to the next room to sleep.

Grigor closed the book and raised your chin to meet his face.

“I think I’d like reading more if it was with you, can we…we move to bed? You seem a little tired,” he said.

“We can.”

Both of you settled into the sheets. You sighed at the warmth of the blankets over you.

“Russia’s every bit as cold as you said,” you jested

“Then can I hold you, to keep you warm…just to make you comfortable.”

“You can.”

He wrapped his arms around you. The fire cackled in the distance and you could make out a ticking clock somewhere else in the room. Both of you laid down on your sides, looking at each other. He felt nice compared to the cold air everywhere else in the apartment.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N? I guess for…for duty. Nothing else has to happen until you’re ready.”

“You can. For our duty.”

He kissed you passionately, deeply. Something inside you made you grab him. You didn’t feel like you wanted to push him away. It was a tight embrace. You liked kissing him. Kissing him had set you on fire, something in your was waking up suddenly. You put your arms around him to deepen it.

Then you let go. You were almost afraid of this wanting. You liked touching him, almost too much. You could notice the top of his shift moving around, showing a bit of his chest.

“Let me kiss you two more times, please…for the alliance’s sake.”

“I’ll let you,” you said.

He leaned down for the first one, but instinctively rolled on top of you. You gasped.

“I…I’m sorry…am I crushing you?” he asked, shrinking away.

“No…it just surprised me. It’s not bad…”

“I don’t know what came over me.”

Then you smiled, and there was a new voice coming out of you.

“That was still one kiss, though. You own me another one.”

He kissed you again. Your hand went to his chest, lightly touching it.

“I…I’ve seen statues, but I’ve never seen a man in only his shift before…” you admitted.

“You can explore, you can touch me” he smirked.

You hands explored his neck, his shoulders, and then began tracing his chest again, and one to his back.

“Grigor…it’s for Russia but…I want you to touch me…”

His head tilted and he blinked rapidly.

“To touch you?”

“I… I…I trust you…”

“Well, if it’s for business…I will.”

You began to trace him more and he let his hands wander over you as well. You traced his neck down to around his shoulder and arm, feeling how each place rose up and went down. When you got to his hands, you put each of your fingers into the crooks of his- hands interlaced. He moved from kissing your lips to your cheeks, and then your neck. It was new and strange, tingling. But you liked it too much to push it away. And when he shifted to be more on top of you-but not his full body-you liked it too much to not stop it either. And every time you felt a small touch or kiss end, you wanted more.

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Once it was over, he rolled off, both of you lazily staring at the ceiling and catching your breath.

Then you looked at him with swollen lips, undone hair, and wide eyes. And he looked at you.

You began to laugh. And he laughed too in tandem.

“I was terrified of that! What was I thinking!” you said, looking over at him. The previous fear had melted away.

“It’s always terrifying when you do it first, even with a new person. But…you’re…you’re good.” Grigor commented.

The air from around felt cold. The fire was dying down and who knew what hour it was. Your two shifts remained crumpled on the floor like ghostly puddles.

“Could you…could you hold me?” you asked coquettishly, leaning towards him.

“Hmm, let me think about that...”

“Please? It’s getting cold.” you added, bringing his hand up to kiss his knuckles.

He leaned over to pull you close. He felt very warm, and sweaty. But you did not mind.

“I…I think we might find a way for this to work…” he murmured.

“Yes, I…I agree.”

He pulled you into his chest. Your eyes saw the small hairs and the rise and fall of his breathing.

“I remember…when I would wake up in the morning, and…I’d hate it,” he recalled, looking up at the ceiling again.

“Why?” you ask.

Tracing his chest, drawing little figures into it. He let you rest your head on his arm. It was getting darker and darker, the candles in the room were dying and giving out bit by bit.

“I’d just feel…alone…” he confessed. He looked over to you, eyes a little dark from the memory.

“Not anymore, Grigor. I’ll make sure of it. You won’t be alone with me.”

It is quiet and peaceful. You both fall asleep deeply.

At one point you wake up briefly, only to see Grigor talking to the old man serf, but he turns to you and shushes.

“It’s early-get some more sleep, Y/N. It was a long day yesterday,” he whispers to you. You see some tiredness in his eyes as well.

You lay your head back down without a word. You fall back asleep.

The light of a later part of the morning fills up the flat when you open your eyes again. Turning around, Grigor is wearing his shift, but still, fast asleep. He must have woken up, put it on, and then drift back into dreaming.

Watching him for a while, it seems he won’t be waking for some time. Even though sunlight is coming out of the windows with the strong glare of mid-morning.

You pull on your shift and your old green robe, you move over to where a tray was set with complimentary coffee in a fancy porcelain set and certain pastries with a note of congratulations from someone’s Aunt Elisabeth or other. But before you can even pour a cup or try a crumb, something catches your eye.

There is an envelope on the tray and when you open it there is some money.

You had forgotten about the morning gift completely.

Taglist: @foxinaforestofstars @iwritefanficnotprophecies @itsametaphorgwil @queenlover05 @simonedk @panagiasikelia @grigorlee @fueled-by-novocaine @stardust-killer-queen @xviiarez @vintage-and-hypnotic @raerawrrae @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night(if I forgot to add you please alert me asap!!!) @always-a-fairycat @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @im-an-adult-ish @marshmxllowfluff

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #341

“anger, misery, you’ll suffer unto me”

Would you risk your life to save a total stranger? I don't think so. Have you ever trashed your ex’s car after an argument? No, and I never would. Grow up. Have you ever done something because of peer pressure you are ashamed of? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever been embarrassed to introduce your parents to anyone? No. Would you leave a note on a car claiming responsibility if you damaged it? Yeah; guilt would eat me alive otherwise. Have you ever used someone's handicapped parking pass to get a parking spot? Fucking ew, no. Have you ever held back a well-deserved compliment because you were jealous? No. Do you guilt people into giving you what you want? Ugh, no. Would most people consider you better than average looking? Ha, no. For yourself, would you rather have a perfect body or high IQ? Give me the perfect body, living in my horrible one has affected my mental health badly enough. I'm fine with having a moderate IQ. I just want to feel happy in my own skin. Have you ever embarrassed some intentionally in public? Wow, no. Have you ever used a false ID? Also no. Are you embarrassed to tell people your job? I'm embarrassed to tell people I don't HAVE a job. Do you remember the first conversation you had with the person you have feelings for? I don't. I'm sure it was RP-related and not friendly, but I don't remember the exact convo. Have you ever got a D or F on your report card? I want to say no; I think the lowest I ever got was a C. If you had twins, would you give them rhyming names? Ugh, no. I'm sorry if you're into it, but I'm just not. I would want to ensure they knew their uniqueness and individuality was seen. Is there anyone that you wish was IN your life who used to be? There's a large number of those kinds of people. What brings out the worst in you? Probably when I'm building up towards a PTSD meltdown. I get VERY short and snappy and am convinced everyone hates and wants to leave me. My mouth also has NO fucking leash, and I know I can say very mean things that I'll regret later. What do you prefer, Skittles or Starbursts? Skittles. Mike & Ikes or Jolly Ranchers? Jolly Ranchers for sure. What is your favorite thing to eat with peanut butter? Waffles (with syrup). Don't knock it 'til you try it, I'm telling you. What are some wild animals commonly found where you live? Besides birds obviously, there's squirrels, deer, opossums, raccoons... Have you ever had a lucid dream? I think I've had just one. What's your biggest problem at the moment? Probably my anxiety having stunted my growth in so many areas. Have you ever turned down a job offer? I don't think so, no. What's the longest hospital stay you've had? For what? I think my longest was almost two months for suicidal thoughts. Two months might sound long, but it was like... my third or so psych hospital stay for that same reason. What's something really basic that you're terrible at? Even the most simple math. I don't even know the majority of my elementary multiplication tables. Have you ever hugged someone for over a minute? Yeah. Would you ever get a tattoo on your collar bone? I have one there already, but I plan on getting it covered because it was an impulse tattoo that I feel no connection towards. Have you ever searched for your house on Google Earth? My old house, yeah. Are you a beach, country, or city person? Country. Living in the suburbs has definitely reminded me of that... Are you faster at text messaging or typing on the computer? Typing, by a long shot. I make typos texting too much. Have you ever kissed anybody who had a mustache? Yeah. Who is the last person that you said "I love you" to, besides family members? Sara. When was your first real relationship? Sophomore year of high school to early college. Have you ever cried over an ex? I've cried the entire mass of water on Earth over an ex lmao. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yes. Is there something really bad that you’ve done, that only YOU know about? No. Have you ever copied someone else’s homework? I think I have once or twice, but obviously with consent. What’s a hobby you would like to try out? If my legs worked like actual legs and I didn't sweat like an absolute pig, I would like to try out herping, but without actually interacting with the animal like picking it up and scaring the daylights out of it. I'd just be happy enough looking for reptiles, amphibians, and inverts to photograph instead. Does that still even count as herping? What was the last event you attended? My youngest niece's birthday party. How about the last event you organized? I've never organized an event. What’s something you get excited about doing and want to do it right away? Whenever I take nature pictures, I'm immediately keen to get them into Lightroom and do the postproduction. Is there anything you feel you’re better at than anybody else? Definitely not. What’s the biggest insect you’ve ever seen? If you exclude places like the zoo, that would probably be a rhinoceros beetle or something. Oh no, actually some kind of local moth I don't know the name of. They're beautiful big white boiz. How about the biggest spider? I might be mis-remembering, but I believe at a reptile convention I went to with Sara, one of the vendors had a goliath bird eater tarantula in one of the cups. I do know it was some tarantula species for sure, though. Who was the first person to break your heart? My dad. Obviously not romantically, but him just splitting on the family with no proper communication absolutely broke my heart for years. First person to give you flowers or candy on Valentine’s day? I'm sure that would be my parents. If you exclude them 'cuz that's kinda obvious, I believe it was Aaron, my first boyfriend. I'm pretty sure we were together on Valentine's Day, because I remember getting him a giant Hershey's Kiss. First band you obsessed about? I wasn't truly obsessed with any band 'til Ozzy in middle school. Can you do a backflip? No; I've never tried and never will. I was and still am too afraid of breaking my neck. Like I have a MASSIVE fear of paralysis, particularly from the neck down; that fear is actually the biggest one that keeps me from driving, fun fact. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Of the two, definitely a pessimist, but I at least think I align most with being a realist. What’s the biggest lie you’ve told someone? I'm unsure. Have you ever been hit on by someone of the same sex? Yeah. How many doors are in the room you’re in? Just one. Have you ever been engaged and broke it off? No. Has anyone ever drawn a picture of you? Tyler once drew a picture of him and me. It was cute. That guy still dove in WAY too fast. Have you ever dated a redhead? I haven't, but I love redheads. Natural red hair is just gorgeous. What are your thoughts on facial hair on guys? Historically, I seem to generally like some, but it really depends on the guy's general appearance. I can like none at all or a full beard and mustache, it doesn't really matter to me. Did you go anywhere today? No; my mom is in Florida with her brothers totally cleaning out Grammy's house, so she's not here to take me anywhere. Do you have any nieces or nephews? Oh yikes, I have a lot. I honestly can't count because I've lost track of how many boys and girls Katie has. You have a choice to shoot your father or die, what would you do? Jesus. I'd rather die; some things just aren't worth living after, and I'd have no desire to keep going if I killed my father. Did you ever cry at the end of King Kong? I've never watched it, actually, but I. LOVED. The video game. I haven't played it in years and only faintly remember how it ends, but I don't remember crying. Are you in any amount of pain at the moment? Quite a lot, actually. It's kinda a TMI subject so I won't delve into it, just know I'm hurting like a bitch. What was the last sugary thing you ate? I snacked on some chocolate chips earlier today... which I really shouldn't have done, but I think I had reasonable restraint and didn't totally binge. When was the last time you did something extremely stupid? Who knows, that's not a rare occurrence, it feels like. Have you been to any parties lately? Only my niece's bday party in February. Thankfully it was kept pretty small, given Covid; not that anyone in that family besides my sister gives a flying fuck about precautions, though... Can you touch your pinky to your thumb around your wrist? Ugh, no. Close, but not enough. I still have thin wrists and hands, but yeah, yay for being overweight. If you were to start a charity, what would you call it? I'd hve to put more thought than I'm willing for one survey question. I'd have to decide what KIND of charity I want to start first, which I'm unsure of. Probably something related to animal wellfare and conservation or something similar to the Trevor Project. Maybe LBGTQ+ youth disowned by their families... I dunno. There's so much good I wish I could do. Are you comfortable with your body? Holy fuck no. It's only gotten worse since I started gaining weight again and almost entirely erased all weight loss progress I'd made. What is your recent inside joke? Most recently made? Idk, man. I don't make those often. Would you rather be a human, vampire, or a werewolf? Er, I'm good with being a human. If I was a vampire or werewolf, I wouldn't exactly be very welcomed, I'm sure, and both have seemingly painful traits to cope with. Are you good at giving directions? It is absolutely impossible for me. I have NO sense of direction, like, at all. I don't know highway names, local exits, etc. etc. etc. etc. Why did you last curse? Pain when readjusting myself due to aforementioned issue I'm having. What is your purpose in life? I hope it involves animals and spreading words of peace and an appreciation for art. What is one of your weak points? I'm very, very, very dependent on others. I'm really working on trying to correct that. I can barely do shit on my own as is. Who was the last person you heard snoring? My cat, haha. Would you rather shower by yourself or with another person? 100% by myself. Another person would just get in the way and make me VERY self-conscious of my body, even if it was my romantic partner. Just please leave me alone to hate myself for 10 minutes. :^) What was your last addiction? You could say my current one is John Wolfe, a really funny let's player I've gotten into. Been bingeing some of my favorite games he has playlists of for a few weeks now. You are in a tank full of spiders, what do you do? Well one, I'd like to know what kind they are. Venomous? Harmless? You gotta give me the details. If I don't have any, then I'm admittedly freaking the fuck out, even though I know I should stay very calm when trying to get out. Fear would win, though. If killing yourself meant saving the world, would you? Saving the world from what? But odds are, yeah. I don't cherish my pretty damn mediocre life more than I do the lives of what, 8 billion people? Have you ever stayed up all night just to talk to someone? Yeah. When was the last time you eavesdropped someone? I kinda do that sometimes when Mom's on the phone and I can hear her from my room, and if they're on speaker. Particularly if the subject is me. When was the last time you went to a club? I've never been to one. How have you been sleeping? Poorly. Are you adopted? No, I'm not. Do you like scrapbooking? Not really, no. Do you collect anything valuable? "Valuable to me." <<<< This. Nothing of great monetary worth, though. Have you ever been beaten up? No, thankfully. Do you know anyone with an eating disorder? I don't think so, in my personal life. What was the last thing you killed? An ant. Have you ever used someone for money? I never could, no. When was the last time you went to the zoo? Sigh, it's been many many years. I'm so ready to get my goddamn legs back in shape so I can go again, this time with a REAL camera, too. Last time I went was when I still only had a Kodak EasyShare; I have a professional Canon camera now with much more education on photography too, so I would be in absolute heaven with at least twenty memory cards in need, haha. Maybe next fall... Is there a teacher you hate more than anything? I actually never had a teacher I hated in my entire school career. It really, really is as simple as just being a respectful student. In most cases, I should emphasize, because I do understand some educators just suck. Now I had some teachers I wasn't very fond of, but most certainly none that I hated. Do you own colored eyeliner? No. Do you have manners? I honestly think I'm very mannerly. When was the last time that you had a pet that died? We last had to put my dog Teddy down; he had cancer and was literally withering away. I knew in my very core that even if we didn't bring him to the vet to euthanize him, he would've died naturally in a very short period of time; I doubt he would've survived another night. Now I'd like to move on. What is your favorite medication that you take, and why? The combination of Vraylar and Lamictal is the reason I'm alive. It keeps my bipolarity and depression under control. Do you decorate Mason jars? No, but those are some of my favorite crafts visually. They're very pretty and cute. Can you see the mountains from where you live? Oh hunny, I wish. Did you ever play pranks on April Fool’s Day? As a kid, yeah. I don't anymore. I'm not really even a fan of April Fool's Day as an adult because of how cruel some jokes assholes play are. Which instrument would you play if you could learn to play one? Maybe violin. Do you part your hair on the left side, right side, or in the middle? The left. What are some names you like that start with the first letter of your name? Uhhhh Bianca, Braelynn (look I know it's so stereotypically Southern but it's pretty)... and idk from there, those are the two that come to mind first.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''harvester of sorrow'' by metallica

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barefoot-in-the-night · 5 years ago

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Eyes of Blue

AN: you heathens have been so lovely~ here’s part 2 also.....BABY IVAR (again, sorry for any typos. My nails are so hard to type with XD)

Summary: Clean. Redressed. Everything of your old world has been stripped. You are doing your best to learn the language but it is a slow process. And Queen Aslaug reveals your true purpose. You’re a toy.

The collar of your cotton dress was far too big. You kept toying with it and pulling it up. You little feet were wrapped in leather soled boots, hand-me-downs by their scoffs. Your hair had been pulled and braided away from your face. Queen Aslaug told your mother that she liked your eyes, she found something familiar in them.

You couldn’t really complain about your surroundings. Sure you were in a strange new place but that slowly became easy to swallow. You didn’t know how long you had been under the Queen’s roof. It was snowing outside now. And you had learned a little of their language.

Your mother was stationed to be one of the Queen’s personal servants. She did the Aslaug’s hair every morning and drew kohl around her eyes. Aslaug took a liking to your mother immediately, she sympathized with your mother’s story. A single mother doing what it took for her children.

You had met the oldest three princes. Ubbe was kind but strived to prove he was a man already. Hvitserk was a troublemaker and often yanked on your hair or throw food at you but when you cried he showed true sorrow. Sigurd enjoyed your company the most, he’d bring you little flowers to put in your hair and stood by your side when the other two teased you.

They often spoke of a younger brother, Ivar, who you’d have yet to meet. He was always in the Queen’s room and you were not permitted there. Your mother didn’t speak of him though you knew she’d seen him. After all, most of her time was spent with the Queen.

Your early morning musings were interrupted when a chicken bone hit you in the forehead. It was followed by a chorus of giggles from Hvitserk and Ubbe, Sigurd was frowning beside you. He swiped the chicken bone from your shoulder and said something in a low tone to the two that you didn’t catch. Hvitserk replied with a “Or what?” Before Sigurd threw his roll at him.

You smiled alongside the two princes as Hvitserk took a bite out of the roll with a shrug. Their heads turned at the sound of footsteps entering the hall. You turned and immediately stood when met with Queen Aslaug. In her arms was a small boy who looked your age. He was dressed in thick pelts but looked wildly uncomfortable. His incredibly blue eyes stared at you in curiosity before moving to his brothers. A large grin broke out across his face which made the others smile.

“Ivar.” Ubbe nodded at his little brother once he was set down. The cringes of pain here and there didn’t escape you. You turned away in favor of rushing to your mother who gripped your shoulders as you leaned against her.

Aslaug turned towards you and beckoned you towards her and Ivar. When you hesitated your mother nudged you forward. Tentative steps brought you towards the boy with ice eyes. You couldn’t keep his gaze and tucked your chin to look at your feet. The Queen straightened and wandered towards her chair, your mother ready with her goblet of warm mead. She spoke slowly for you,

“Ivar this is (Y/N) I’ve told you about. (Y/N) this is-“

“Ivar!” He barked out with a wide smile. The volume startled you but you managed a shy smile and nod to him.

“You are Ivar’s companion from now on.” Aslaug ran her fingers through the boy’s hair lovingly then flicked her eyes to you. “You are not to leave his side, am I understood?” The bite in her tone had you nodding your head inh earnest. She leaned back in satisfaction before the other three began to complain.

“Does this mean she can’t play with us anymore?” Sigurd exclaimed.

“Ivar doesn’t need her!” Hvitserk pouted.

Aslaug snapped something at the two which made them quiet down and continue their meal. Ivar looked between his mother and brothers then at you. You shifted uncomfortably under his eyes again.

“Come here!” He commanded. You sent an unsure look to your mother who returned it with a twitch of her head towards the prince. You walked to Ivar and stood by his side before he ordered you to sit beside him. The room was full of tension before Sigurd stood from the table.

“I’m going out to play, come one Ubbe. Hvitserk.” He looked at you before turning to run out.

“Yay!” Ivar yelled, excitement obvious in his azure hues.

“Aren’t you coming, (Y/N)?” Hvitserk looked over his shoulder at you. You looked at your mother for an answer but Queen Aslaug answered for you.

“Of course she is. She just has to get Ivar’s wagon so they can keep up.” She turned top your mother. “Mane, get Ivar’s wagon won’t you?” With a gentle smile your mother left to the Queen’s rooms. It wasn’t long after when she returned dragging what looked like a mini oxcart. She and Aslaug worked together in lifting Ivar and getting him comfortable in the cart.

With and excited roar her urged you to drag him after his brothers. You worried at your lip and looked to Aslaug for approval. When she flicked her fingers inh consent you gripped the leather wrapped handle and pulled. He didn’t look too heavy but it was difficult for you to get him started.

“Come on!” He whined nearly buzzing with pent up excitement. You huffed and pulled as hard as you could. You were off.

Much to your surprise, the other three princes were waiting outside the doors. Ubbe shuffled to you to help pull Ivar.

“What’re we playing?” Ivar asked as the two of you got him down onto the snowy ground.

“Vikings, Ivar.” Sigurd sounded exasperated as you all started walking.

“I want to be the Jarl!” He beamed.

“You cant be the Jarl, you cant fight.” Sigurd sent him a dark look. Ivar’s smile fell.

“Yes I can.” His voice was dangerous. You had all stopped and watched as the two had a standoff. “Besides, I have (Y/N) she can be my shieldmaid!” He ignored Sigurd’s glare.

“(Y/N) cant be a shieldmaid. Besides she’s more like your horse.” Hvitserk teased.

“Why not?” You piped up.

“Becuase you’re not from here.” Hvitserk chuckled at you making you pout at him.

“So? Cant foreigners be warriors?”

“No they cant. Besides you’re a slave-“

“Hvitserk!” Ubbe growled.

“What-“

“What’s going on here then?” The five of you turned to the new voice to see Floki watching you in amusement.

“We’re playing Vikings!” Ivar lit up at seeing the man. Floki scared you, with his darkly rimmed eyes and unpredicatble nature. You hadn’t personally met the man yet he seemed so kind when it came to the princes. He crouched down to your height and tilted his head.

“That sounds fun.”

“It will be once Ivar stops being annoying.” Sigurd grumbled.

“Sigurd says I cant be the Jarl because I cant fight.” Ivar whined.

“Oh? Why cant he fight, Sigurd?” Floki seemed so at ease like he’d had this coversation hundreds of times.

“Because he cant- cant....“

“Just because he cant walk doesn’t mean he cant fight.” Floki shuffled to Ivar’s wagon and raised Ivar’s arms. Ivar already had a wooden axe in his hand and gave Floki a war cry which turned into a giggle when Floki feigned scared. “He certainly looks a warrior, doesn’t he?” All eyes were on you.

You fidgeted with you sleeve ends in nervousness. Being put in this situation made you anxious. You were basically being asked to pick a side. Sigurd or Ivar. You swallowed down your unease and raised your head to look confident.

“Yes.” Your voice wasn’t as strong as you wanted it to be but it resulted in a cheer from Ivar. Something in Floki’s eyes flashed and he stood, towering over you.

“And this little Wolf looks as fierce as a shieldmaid, no, Hvitserk?” The prince looked away embarrassed. “Ubbe?”

“She does.” Ubbe smiled at you.

“There you have it.” Floki placed a hand on Ivar’s head. “Go on then.”

“Come on, Sigurd. Let’s revolt against King Ivar and his shieldmaid.” Hvitserk sneered. “Ubbe, you’re with us.”

“No fair!” Ivar called after the two as they ran ahead. Ubbe laughed and started dragging Ivar after him. Leaving you and the towering Floki. The man seemed to be staring into your soul. He giggled to himself before sliding forward and ruffling your hair. His palm lingered on your crown almost like he wanted to say something. Another giggled and he left.

You watched after him, frozen in place, until he turned a corner and disappeared and whatever spell you were under was broken.

“(Y/N)! Come on!” Ivar was yelling and waving at you from the hill he and Ubbe were on. Another glance back and you took off towards the prince.

————————————

Muscles sore. Bruises blooming across your skin. You shouldn’t have felt so happy. Yet you did.

Time seemed to go by so fast when playing with the princes. Even with the three of them against you two, you and Ivar somehow won and brought the “traitors” to their knees. You had a suspicion that Ubbe helped you win.

In the end the five of you couldn’t stop laughing. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Queen Aslaug was more than happy to see you all in such great spirits. She has waved you away when you made to follow Ivar to her rooms. Ivar was talking away about your game and how you were the best shieldmaid there was.

This was your life. You thought to yourself before falling into a deep restful sleep.

@lol-haha-joke @unicornbaby741 @kenyadakblalock @i-am-a-teenage-dirtbaggg @sawendel

#vikings #ivar x reader #ivars heathen army #the wolf and the serpent #mot writes

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junietc · 5 years ago

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not just a friend - steve rogers

steve rogers x reader

pairing: steve rogers/captain america x reader

word count: 7213

summary: friday nights used to be lazy nights but maybe helping steve finish his pop culture list instead wouldn’t be all that bad

warnings: swearing, maybe some sex relate jokes but all in all just a fluffy one shot

a/n: this is a reallllll long one haha. for our lovely captain, steve rogers, we have a not so short one shot i’ve been working on for the past few weeks. please leave requests and remember to show some love :))

hope you enjoy ~

Friday night meant a lazy night in Y/n's eyes.

It meant staying at the Avengers compound in her favourite pajamas, either reading a book or watching some new Netflix movie Tony was raving about.

It also meant she finally would get some peace and quiet seeing as Friday night was when Tony and Pepper went on their date night, Steve went out with Bucky and Sam to explore the modern world, and Clint and Natasha dragged Bruce out of the lab to have some fun.

Of course, it wasn’t that she wasn't invited to join them, (asides from Tony and Pepper's date night) but she always chose to stay at home.

Say it’s because she wanted a day to let her feet rest or say she just wanted to enjoy the couple hours she had to herself without any obnoxious shouting being tossed around the compound.

Whatever the reason was, Y/n was used to being alone on Friday night.

So, you could only imagine her surprise when she saw a certain blue-eyed captain plop down, right next to her on the couch.

Raising a brow, she turned her head towards the super soldier. "Steve? What are you still doing here?” pausing slightly, she winced at her choice of words. “Sorry, that sounded really harsh. Aren't you supposed to be out? You know, fraternizing with the modern world with your little trio?" she heard him laugh before shaking his head.

"Yes actually. But I had some extra work to do, so I told Buck and Sam that they could go out on their own," Y/n nodded, unsure of what to say. She saw him let out a wistful sigh, more than enough evidence to tell her that he wished he could be with them.

Pausing the movie that was playing on the screen, she crossed her legs and turned to face him. "What do you guys do when you go out?" he looked at her surprised.

"Oh! Well, I try to check off my pop culture "to do" list. I've had it for a while and all the things are pretty stupid but I guess I just really want to finish it,” he told her, pulling out the small notebook from his back pocket.

Peering down and scanning through the list quickly, she noticed he still had more than half to check off. Y/n pursed her lips, looking down at her comfy over sized t-shirt and sighed slightly. I suppose now is a better time than ever to become closer to Steve. Allowing any possibilities of a peaceful evening to leave her mind she shook her and flashed him a grin. "Well than, get that American ass up and dressed because we're checking another thing off this list!" she announced enthusiastically standing up.

"What do you mean?" Steve chuckled watching her point at his notebook.

"I mean we're doing at least one of these. Lemme see, ooh! Are you hungry? I'm sure I could eat. Let's go get some Thai food! We could go to this restaurant that does takeout and then, hmm, 'I love Lucy'? I haven’t seen that show in ages, we could watch it when we get back at the tower," she looked up and saw Steve staring at her, a grin etched on his face. "What are you staring at? Let’s go!" she ushered Steve off the couch, making him laugh as she ran into her own room.

Changing out of her pajamas’ and into a simple t-shirt and jeans, she undid her messy ponytail and fumbled with her hair until she felt presentable.

She got out of the room and met up with Steve, who was had threw on a pair of jeans and his leather jacket over his shirt. The two took off and headed into the elevator. "The place isn't that far so we could walk there if that's alright with you," she told him.

"Sounds good," she smiled at him and they headed out to the restaurant. The walk was short as she had anticipated, the two chatting among themselves about their day and miscellaneous stories about their teammates.

They ordered their takeout before quickly heading back to the tower, the walk back filled with Y/n complaining about how cold it had suddenly gotten. Once they had gotten back to the tower, Y/n fired up the television and put on the first episode of "I Love Lucy" as the two changed into some comfier clothes.

"Alright, Thai food and I love Lucy. Lucky you Rogers, you've got yourself one of the best combinations in life," Y/n joked as she snuggled into the couch and started to eat some Pad Thai. Steve smiled at the girl, happy that someone cared this much to cancel their plans just for him. (Though her plans were hardly anything that needed canceling)

"I suppose I am lucky aren't I," he winked at her as she snorted in response.

The night trailed on, and it had been closing in on two hours of watching when the two had realized that it was getting late and they should be getting some sleep. They cleaned up and Y/n was about to retire to bed when Steve stopped her. "Hey, Y/n?"

She turned around and leaned against the door frame of her room. "Mhm?" she hummed in response.

"Thank you for tonight. It was nice of you to go out of your way to help me check off my list. It means a lot to me," he sent her a warm smile.

She smiled back, "it's no problem." He nodded before bidding her a goodnight. Before he could leave, Y/n’s voice stopped him. “Hey, I just had an idea. Why don't I help you check off your entire list? Anytime we're free we'll try and do another thing on your list. How's that sound Captain?"

A wide and goofy grin emerged on Steve's face. "That sounds perfect."

******

Nearly two weeks had passed, due to a rouge mission, before Y/n and Steve finally had another day off.

It was Saturday morning and Y/n was brain dead. Her thoughts were dispersed throughout her brain, trying to figure out where the next spot the criminal they were trying to catch would be. Not to mention she was running off seven cups of coffee and two hours of sleep so you could only imagine the chaos that was her mind.

She took a pause from her frantic typing and eyed the numerous tabs she had opened and papers that were scattered across her desk. Under her breath she cursed at how little progress she had made before returning to her laptop.

After an hour of dead ends and two more cups of coffee, Y/n decided it was pointless. “Who am I kidding. I should just give this case to someone at S.H.I.E.L.D," she stretched her neck and ran her fingers through her hair. A nap sounded like a nice idea at the time, but her plans were interrupted by a sudden knock on her wall.

Looking up from her work she saw Steve leaning against the door frame, a concerned look on his face. She threw her hand up in attempts to greet him. "Hey Cap, what's up?"

"Just checking up on you. Everything alright? You looked stressed," he questioned, concern laced in his voice. He walked over and examined her workspace. "You know you have the day off, right? You really should be relaxing. Working everyday isn't good for you.”

She scoffed, shaking her head, "Is Steve I-Need-To-Solve-This-Problem-Right-Now-Or-I-Will-Never-Forgive-Myself Rogers telling me to relax?” noticing his eyes roll she smiled. “Hey, I get what you mean. I guess I just though if did some more work I’d be able to help some more. But now all I’ve got to show for it is my Word doc with a billion typos and dead ends,” a sad laugh escaping her mouth.

"Don't say that," he spoke sternly. She raised an eyebrow at him as he picked up one of her lists, "There's a ton of good ideas here Y/n. You're just missing a few things and that’s probably just because you’re half asleep. You know what would help with that?" Y/n cocked a brow as he shook her slightly. "Taking a break."

Y/n broke into a grin when he pulled out the small notebook. "Are you just trying to get me to help you check off this list?" he grinned cheekily.

"Maybe."

*******

The two agreed that they needed to get some air, so Y/n suggested that they go to the planetarium. Maybe Steve could learn a thing or two about what recently happened in the solar system within the last seventy years he had been frozen.

When they got in, Steve was surprised to see a large dome with dozens of seats all lined up in a semicircle. Y/n grabbed his hand and dragged him over to sit down. "Trust me. Just watch," before he knew it, the lights switched off and various projections started to appear on the ceiling above them.

The patterns arranged themselves into different planets and stars and a deep voice began to play from a speaker. The two watched the whole show and listened intently, Steve occasionally chuckling due to Y/n whispering a few stupid jokes every so often.

After a solid hour or so, the two had to leave and head back to Avengers headquarter for training.

They walked in a comfortable silence, admiring the scenery and laughing at dumb jokes from time to time. Heading closer to the tower, they noticed a pair of figures being Sam and Bucky, waiting and chatting at the front entrance. "Hey Buck! Sam," Steve greeted the two men. Y/n sent a wave which they returned with soft smiles. The three of them chatted and Y/n noticed she was fourth wheeling, so she decided to bid the men a goodbye as she went in to change for her sparring with Nat.

Slipping into a tank top and her old pair of gym shorts, she grabbed a bag filled with simple necessities and headed into the elevator.

She made her way down to the training room, seeing Natasha talking to Clint who was practicing his shots. Quickly tying up her hair, she made her way over towards the two. "Hey, you ready for sparring?" Natasha greeted her, motioning towards the already set up mat.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

*******

After what felt like years of sparring, practicing her aim in the shooting range and weapon practice, Y/n was exhausted. She made her way over to the break station where Clint and Natasha were drinking water and cooling down.

"I swear I come out of training with a new body part broken each week,” she groaned, her muscles sore and her body sweaty. The pair chuckled as Y/n collapsed onto the chair in front of them.

"I noticed you and Steve have been hanging out quite a bit this past month. What have you been doing?" Clint remarked, throwing a towel towards Y/n, which she easily caught and used to wipe the sweat off her face.

"Well, I've been helping him do everything on his checklist since he's had it for a while," she replied simply, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge and taking a large gulp of the icy cold liquid. Natasha smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"And you’re saying that’s the only thing happening during all this, one on one time?" Y/n nearly spat out the water she was drinking before turning to the ex-assassin. Clint, who had been trying to keep his laughter in check, looked at Y/n's face and completely lost it. "Well?"

"Nat!" Y/n exclaimed in a hush tone, looking around to see if anyone heard her. Turning back, she sent a glare. "Are you serious?" Natasha crossed her arms, the look on her face telling her that she wouldn’t stop if Y/n didn’t answer the question. Y/n sighed, "no. There are you happy? We're just friends alright? That's all that we are, all that we'll ever be. Jeez." Breathing heavily, Y/n shook her head.

Can’t believe her. Why would she think Steve and I would ever – no way that could happen.

Nat and Clint shared a look with each other before shrugging and changing topics. Noticing that they weren't talking about her anymore, she casually grabbed an apple and bit into it. She watched Steve sparring with Bucky and smiled as his eyes met hers.

Her stomach did that weird thing again, that caused her to feel all giddy inside and her heart seemed to be beating faster than usual. Confused, she looked down wondering what was going on in her body.

It's probably just from sparring for so long.

It was obvious to any outsider that she was incredibly wrong.

*******

A few days had passed, and Steve and Y/n had hung out a few times, grabbing lunch together or merely just chatting in the compound.

Y/n was minding her own business, when a sudden realization had struck. Getting up from her comfortable spot on her bed, she made her way to the living room where Steve was seated, watching an old re-run of a television show.

"You know what Rogers? I've realized that I've been helping you do what everyone else wants you, yet I haven't added anything to your list. We're going to change that," Y/n randomly announced, plopping down onto the couch next to him.

He looked over at her, her face in full concentration, trying to find the perfect thing to add to his list. Laughing he cocked an eyebrow at her, "Oh really? And what is something so revolutionary that I just have to add to my list."

Thinking deeply, her eyes lit up before smiling widely at him. "Snicker doodles."

*******

"Steve! You're supposed to save the cinnamon for rolling the cookies in! Not for putting it inside the batter!" Y/n was laughing, as she tried to stop Steve from screwing up the recipe and mixing the wet ingredients.

"Well you said dry ingredients. Unless something has changed in the past seventy years, I'm fairly certain that cinnamon is dry," he retorted, watching her roll her eyes at him.

The two were trying to bake snicker doodles, Steve making quite hard too, as the Trouble man Soundtrack was playing in the background. Y/n made the snarky remark that since Steve still hasn't listen to it since Sam hadn't shut up about it.

When 'Trouble Man' played, Y/n smiled to herself. Dancing, as she mixed the bowl, she swayed to the melody and made her way towards Steve. Humming along to the song, she started to sing. "I come up hard baby, but now I'm cool. I didn't make it sugar, playin' by the rules. I come up hard baby, but now I'm fine," Y/n removed the whisk from his hand and replaced it with her own hand. "Dance with me?"

Steve looked at her and smiled brightly. The two swayed together in sync. Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders before placing her face into his chest. Steve looked slightly shocked before smiling and placing his hands on her waist. "I'm checkin' trouble-"

"-sugar, movin' down the line" Steve interrupted, causing Y/n to snap her head up and stare at him incredulously.

"I thought you hadn't heard this yet?"

"Sam manages to sneak this song on every time we're in a car," smiling and laughing, the two look down to realize that the flour on Steve's shirt had transferred to Y/n's hair. "You'd better clean that out, here let me help."

Steve shoots his hand out to ruffle her hair but Y/n ducks down fast enough. "Not so fast old man. I may lack braincells, but I do have eyes and I can see that your hands are clearly covered in flower,” she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Alright, now that you're done throwing flour everywhere. We can start making balls of dough and covering them in the cinnamon sugar," the two shared giggles before grabbing small handfuls of dough and rolling them in between their hands.

After covering the last few cookies, it was time to throw them in the oven. Y/n was holding the tray and Steve opened the oven. A breeze of hot air blew across her face, causing her to scrunch up her nose before placing the tray in the middle of the rack. "You said how long until they're done?" Steve asked her.

"Approximately 10 minutes, so at 6:36," she replied, closing the oven and punching in the numbers. She turned around to face him. "Meaning we should clean up the mess we made before the others come and see what we've been up to all day."

They started cleaning up the mess they had created, throwing most of the utensils and bowls into the dishwasher and putting away all the leftover ingredients. Realizing that the soundtrack had played through, she made her way over to her phone and opened the music. "Which band was it that you also needed to listen too?" she asked Steve, who opened his small notebook.

"This band named Nirvana?" Y/n's eyes sparkled at the mention. Steve chuckled watching her facial expression turn excited and enthusiastic. "What? Do you know them or something?"

She looked over her shoulder and stared at him incredulously. "Know them? I love them! How have you never listened to – you know what? I'm just going to play it," she pressed shuffle on her phone before placing it down and heading over to clean up the last few things.

Grabbing a towel, she started to dry a few of the plates and placing them away. Music played, and Y/n sung along, dancing without a care in the world.

"Ooh! This is my favourite song!" Y/n dropped the towel in her hand and grabbed the spoon from the counter, bringing it up to her mouth. "Come as you are, as you were. As I want you to be. As a friend, as a friend. As a known enemy," she danced around the room, pretending she was on a stage, singing her heart out. Steve watched her sing and point at him, laughing to himself at how adorable she looked. "Take your time, hurry up. The choice is yours, don't be late. Take a rest as a friend. As an old-" she climbed onto the counter and used her free hand to dramatize her performance.

"Memoria, memoria, memoria, memoria." Once the lyrics finished, she danced around to the music and hopped off the counter. Panting slightly, she brushed the stray hairs out of her face before interlocking eyes with Steve and smiling goofily.

"Now that was a performance," Steve applauded her as she jokingly curtsied while laughing. The two shared a smile before cleaning up again and singing along to the songs.

Steve admired the girl, throwing a glance towards her every so often. His stomach seemed to be doing flips and he soon realized -

He was falling in love.

*******

About a month or so had passed and the subject of whether Steve and Y/n were dating was a frequently brought up topic. Many of the team members believed that it was all a secret and they were hiding their relationship, such as Tony, Clint and Sam. On the other end, a few of them thought that they were too pussy to go up and ask the other on a date such as Natasha and Bucky.

Of course, Bruce decided to stay out of all of this, but he did have his hopes that their relationship would soon evolve into something more than friendship.

To be completely honest, Y/n and Steve themselves had no clue what was going on.

The two liked each other tremendously.

Well that was obvious.

But they never truly acted on it, aside from Y/n's flirty remarks, but that was just her usual behavior, and remained friends.

It was quiet Friday night when Y/n was bored out of her mind. Dangling upside down from her bed, her eyes bore a stare into the wall.

A minute had passed before she decided that she was thirsty and headed down to the kitchen for something to drink. "Where's something to do when you need it?" she murmured, her fingers running through her hair as a yawn escaped her lips.

Once she opened her eyes, she saw a tall, dark haired figure standing in the kitchen. I mean I wouldn't mind doing him but – “Y/n?" her head snapped up.

"Oh, hey Bucky. What's up?" she asked as she made her way to the cabinets, grabbing a glass.

"Not much," she nodded before pouring water from the pitcher. "You know I was just talking to Natasha about your current love life," she looked at him, confused at why he was bringing this subject up, but nodded, taking a sip from her glass. "And I was wondering whether or not you and Steve were ever going to date."

Spitting out the water in her mouth, she looked up at the ex-assassin, her eyes nearly bulging out their sockets. "What?" she questioned, as sly smile started creeping its way on to his face.

"All that I'm saying is that you guys have chemistry. You've been hanging out a lot and-"

"I'm just helping him finish everything on that to do list of his," she interjected, wiping the excess water from the side of her face.

"Yeah and you're probably the last thing on it," Bucky grumbled quietly, making sure she didn't hear him. "What I was saying, is that you both should at least try and go on a date. I know Steve hasn't had something remotely close to a relationship in the last seventy years so I'm sure a date could fix him right up."

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes at his suggestion. "Why don't you go on a date with him then? He basically sacrificed his whole friendship with Tony for you. I smell a movie idea," she mocked in a sing-song voice. Bucky sighed before turning around to face the girl.

"I'm being serious Y/n."

She stared at him dead eye and crossed her arms. "And so am I. So, understand when I say that nothing will ever happen between me and Steve. He's just a friend," with that she walked out of the kitchen, grumbling to herself that she was hungry as Bucky rolled his eyes. “Also tell Natasha to stop blabbering about my love life to everyone!”

"They're even more perfect for each other than I thought. Stupidly oblivious though," he face-palmed before rubbing his eyes in annoyance. "God, I swear if I’m not Steve's man of honour when they get married."

*******

"I still can't believe you haven't seen any of the Star Trek movies. I thought you would've at least watched one with Sam or someone," Y/n rolled her eyes, settling down with popcorn next to Steve.

He chuckled slightly as he spread the blanket over top of the two of them. "Hey, at least I watched the Star-Wars movies. Tony wouldn't shut up about them until he made me watch every single one," Y/n laughed remembering the one time that Tony had barged into the meeting yelling about how Steve hadn't watched Star-Wars.

"I think you struck the most luck when you heard AC/DC early on. Tony nearly killed me when I said I only listened to one of their songs and it was Highway to Hell," she snorted, turning on the television.

About halfway into the third movie, Y/n stifled a yawn and started to lean on Steve's shoulder. She felt him tense for a second before loosening up.

The two were much too engrossed in the movie to have noticed the elevator doors opening revealing Tony and Natasha. The two of them walked into the living room and stopped when they saw Y/n and Steve together on the couch, Y/n's head on his shoulder. The two superheroes looked at each other and smirked. Tony let out a wolf whistle.

"Wow! Didn't know you still had it in you Capsicle. Especially not with our lovely Y/n! congrats," he teased, clapping his hands as they snapped their heads to look at them and Y/n rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shut it Stark. We're just watching a movie," she snapped, before turning back to face the screen.

Natasha snorted before curtsying in a mocking manner. "Oh, forgive us. Come on Stark, the lovely couple would like their privacy," Steve groaned as they snickered before making their way out of the room.

Y/n cursed something under her breath, before focusing her attention on the movie. "You know, a few days ago Bucky asked me if we were going to date."

Steve looked at her incredulously, her face blank as she shoved popcorn into her mouth. "What?" he asked her.

"He asked if we were going to date," she turned to face the shocked looking man. "I said no, don't worry. I told him we were just friends anyways," her voice quieter towards the end, chest clenching.

"Oh," Steve nodded, regaining his posture. "Just friends," his heart sunk to his stomach, as he shuffled around uncomfortably in his seat. "Right."

*******

The two had binged through the next few movies, probably landing on the ninth or tenth when Y/n started falling asleep.

Steve allowed the girl to take a nap, his eyes trailing from the screen to her.

He smiled as Y/n was snoozing softly on his shoulder. He checked on his watch and realized it was closing in on 3 am in the morning. He moved her, so she was leaning against the couch for a second before standing up and carrying her in his arms.

He walked over to her room as he walked into his Bucky eyeing him. "You and L/n have been hanging out a lot these past few weeks. You sure there's nothing going on Steve?" he teased his friend. Steve rolled his eyes before looking down at Y/n who had her face snuggled up against his chest.

"I wish I knew what it was Buck but I’m just not sure what it is," he looked down at the sleeping girl, a soft smile appearing on his face. With that he bid his goodnight before heading off.

Bucky watched his friend bring the girl into her room as he rolled his eyes. "Not sure what it is my ass. That punk knows he's in love with her."

Steve opened up the door and laid Y/n on her bed. He pressed a chaste kiss on her temple before sitting up from the bed. "'Night Y/n."

Before he could leave, he felt a hand grab onto his forearm. He saw Y/n, her eyelids only half open and her breath raspy. "Stay?" she pleaded. Steve looked at her slightly shocked. He saw her pout and gave in almost immediately.

"Alright," he laid down next to her as she turned and placed her face in his chest. He sucked on his breath, looking at the tired girl and wrapped his arm around her.

*******

Mmmm, warmth.

Y/n hummed in content as she woke up. She felt something hard pressed up against her head and opened her eyes to see Steve sleeping next to her. Her eyes widened immediately. Her first reaction to jump away before realizing that it would be too hard since his arm was wrapped around her.

Inhaling sharply, panic struck across her face. Steve's sleeping next to me. The love of my life is sleeping next to me. What am I supposed to do?

Steve's eyes blinked open, his head turning to face Y/n's embarrassed one. He smiled softly at her before murmuring a quiet 'good morning' in a low, raspy voice. Blinking slightly, makings sure this wasn't a dream, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-Hi," tucking a strand of hair behind her ear in attempt to reduce her embarrassment (which it didn't), she greeted him. "Morning. Remind me, but – er, why are you here? In bed. With me?"

Just realizing she was unsure what was going on, Steve apologized profusely. "Oh my god, I am so sorry! I didn't realize that you didn't know what was happening and you were probably extremely confused and I- "

God damnit Y/n. You just totally stressed out Cap for being nice. "– Steve?" stopping abruptly, he looked at her, worry in his eyes. "I'm not upset. It was sweet of you to bring me to my room. I just wondered why you chose to stay the night with me?"

Chuckling slightly, he scratched the back of his neck. "Actually, you asked me to stay the night."

"I what."

"Yeah you kind of begged for me to stay with you last night after I dropped you off in bed," he responded nervously. Due to her shock, her eyes widened as she watched the blue-eyed man start to laugh. "Hey don't worry. I don't mind. You were really cute when you were tired, so I couldn't say no," as soon as the words had escaped his mouth, Y/n's brain started to malfunction.

Did Steven Grant Roger, aka Captain America, aka my biggest crush ever just call me cute?

"Oh?" she exclaimed; her voice uncharacteristically high. "Really now?"

Steve looked at her oddly until he realized the words he had said earlier. "Oh, oh! Sorry I didn't mean it to say that you're cute – ah! Not saying you're not, I mean you're gorgeous, prettiest girl I've ever met but – damnit! I mean –" Y/n started smiling uncontrollably, laughter tumbling off her lips. Groaning Steve cursed under his breath. "Shit."

"Steve, what are you trying to say?" she asked the super soldier, who was currently hiding his face in his hands. Smothering a laugh, she tried to move his hands away from his head. "Steve?"

"Y/n, I have to tell you something," surprised at his sudden outburst, Y/n looked at him shocked.

"Oh! Well, what is it?" her mind trailed off, wondering what he wished to talk to her about.

Fumbling around his fingers, he bit his bottom lip before looking into her eyes. "Y/n, I really like –"

"Meeting in five minutes Y/n – oh! Steve? What are you doing in Y/n's room?" Natasha interrupted glancing at the two, a smirk tugging at her lips. "You two already slept together? I mean I knew it was going to happen, but I at least expected a date or –"

Y/n started to panic, launching a pillow at the red head's direction. "Natasha! Are you serious? Get out!" the ex-assassin laughed before shutting the door.

"Fury wants us there in five minutes!" her voice trailed off as she left. Y/n rubbed her temples at the actions of her friend. Turning to face Steve, whose face was prominently red now, she tried to get him to tell her what he was going to say before they were rudely interrupted.

"What was it you wanted to tell me?"

"I – nothing. Never mind. We should get going, don't want to leave Fury waiting," getting up and out of the bed, Y/n watched as he prepared to leave the room.

Disappointed, she replied, "oh, I get it. Tell me later?" Steve turned to face her with an unsure face.

"Sure."

*******

"They were in the same room?" Tony exclaimed loudly as Natasha shushed him with a glare. "Well sorry. I'm just asking to make sure you weren't seeing things?" he questioned, sipping some of the hot liquid in his mug.

Rolling her eyes at his distrust in her, she crossed her arms. "I'm sure Tony. I saw him when I went to call Y/n. They were deep in conversation and I'm pretty sure I wasn't just seeing things. He might've just popped into her room in the morning though. I'm not –"

Bucky, who had been quiet for most of the conversation had finally spoken up, "I saw him bring Y/n back into her room last night and he never came back out," Sam turned to face him and cocked a brow.

"And how do you know he never got out? Were you stalking him?" Clint snickered at the question, watching the soldier scoff and roll his eyes.

"That doesn't matter Wilson. The two definitely at least slept in the same room. But now to the question of whether they fu –"

Y/n's head popped in from the door and the rest of the team turned towards her, slightly surprised. "What are you guys up to?"

"Working on some tests," Bruce quickly replied, snatching random papers that were scattered on the table.

Clint rose his mug and took a sip, "snacking."

"Talking about whether or not you and Steve fucked each other last night," Natasha replied casually, watching Bruce choke on his coffee. Bucky snorted slightly, watching the h/c haired girl's face distort into shock.

Tony started laughing manically. "So, tell us Y/n? What'd the two of you do in the same room? Anything I'd like to get in the middle of?" glaring, she made a disgusted face at Tony's statement.

"Very funny Stark. We didn't do anything last night, alright? We were just watching movies and I fell asleep and Steve was a gentleman and brought me to my room," walking into the room, she grabbed a cookie from the plate on the table and munched on it.

Clint furrowed his brows before asking the next question, "but why did he stay the night? I didn't know that was a part of being a gentleman," Y/n pursed her lips, cursing under her breath. "Unless there's something you didn't mention, Y/n?" Turning around and crossing her arms she huffed.

"I might've asked him to stay," she mumbled under her breath quickly, not wishing for anyone to hear her. Bucky, who was closest to her, overheard her mutters and rose his eyebrows. Before he could say anything, Y/n cleared her throat and walked out of the room. "Now if you'll excuse me, Steve and I are heading out for lunch," seeing everyone's looks at her, she narrowed her eyes and stated, "as friends."

Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders. "I mean sure it might start with being friends but a quick mouth to mouth action really can get it going for the two of you. Steve's just a little shy and won't initiate it but if you try hard enough–"

"Bucky we're not kissing."

"I never said kissing," smirking slightly he flashed a wolfish grin. "You two could always make-out instead," Y/n groaned loudly, watching the rest of the team burst in to laughs, even Bruce betraying her with his fit of giggles.

"You guys are honestly the worst. Steve doesn't like me in that way, and I don't like him in that way so there's no possible way for the two of us to date," Natasha started cackling and slammed her fist onto the table as her laughing intensified. Crossing her arms, Y/n asked, "what's so funny now Nat?"

Wiping a tear from her eye she looked at the girl and shook her head. "Alright if you and Steve aren't madly in love with each other than I guess that I wasn’t a previous assassin," Tony grinned before chiming in as well.

"And I suppose that I'm not a billionaire."

Sam chuckled before joining with the two, "and I'm not the best-looking guy on the team," everyone turned to look at him. "What?" Y/n shook her head, before looking down at her phone.

"I've got to go now. I don't want to keep Steve waiting. We'll be back in an hour or so," saying her goodbyes, she headed out for the door only getting stopped by the sound of Bucky's voice.

"That's right. No need to keep your future husband waiting to long," Y/n resisted the urge to smack him across the face but turned around and glared.

The laughter died down as she narrowed her eyes intensely, "would you please, stop?" Bucky scoffed but waved goodbye as she turned back around.

"Alright but for the wedding, can I be –"

"Oh my god you guys are so annoying!"

******

The crisp autumn air blew through Y/n's hair as she walked side by side with Steve, headed for a coffee shop downtown. This wasn't one of the things that Steve needed to do but Y/n was in the mood for a warm drink to calm her down from all the events that had occurred. Like sleeping with her massive crush.

Stopping in front of a quaint little café, Y/n opened the door and allowed Steve in. "After you, kind sir," she mocked, bow down as he chuckled.

"Well thank you doll," the slight word choice was enough for Y/n's cheeks to turn pink and for butterflies to start fluttering around in her stomach. After purchasing their drinks (and a slight banter between the two on who was paying. Y/n ended winning by swiping her card while they were arguing), the two set out for a casual stroll down the streets of New York.

They walked in a peaceful silence, enjoying the background noises of the busy streets and sipping on the drinks every so often. Y/n looked around, her eyes meeting back with his. She smiled warmly at him, her nose scrunching up as she giggled suddenly. "What's so funny?" he asked with a playful smile.

"Oh nothing," she waved him off. "I'm just remembering what the team said earlier. They were talking about us sleeping together or something dumb like that," she scoffed thinking about how dumb that idea was. Not that she wouldn't want to. God knows she does, but Steve didn't need to know that.

Not yet at least.

Steve placed one of his hands in his pocket, nodding slightly. "Oh. Yeah, Bucky was asking me about that earlier. I don't know what's gotten into them,"

"Yeah. They even joked about you liking me and whatnot. It was really weird," as soon as the words had left her mouth, Steve nodded awkwardly. Noticing something was up she turned to face the super soldier. "Everything alright?"

He nodded his head at first, "yeah, yeah don't worry about it," she nodded, going back to her original position facing forwards. It was only a few seconds after when Steve started shaking his head violently and sighing. "You know what? It's not alright," Y/n looked at him in shock.

"What do you mean? Is something wrong? Did I do something to upset you? Is – "

"I'm in love with you," pausing afterwards, he began to be extremely infatuated with his shoes, not taking his eyes off them. "I'm in love with you, Y/n L/n. And I have been for a while."

Y/n's face was red. Extremely red. "O-Oh," she could feel the blood rising to her cheeks, his sentence came outs so suddenly she hardly had time to react. Steve realized she hadn't responded and shook his head.

"You know what, I'm really sorry that was a lot to put on you and I didn't mean to just drop the bomb like that. I had a whole plan too –" Y/n pulled on his arm and leaned him downwards as she sealed his mouth with a kiss.

He tasted like the minty gum they had earlier and fresh coffee, his scent intoxicating her, sending her emotions haywire. They pulled apart, lips slightly parted, heavy breaths colliding with one another. Y/n smiled softly, once their eyes had met. "This is going to sound cliché, but you were talking way too much."

A bright grin had erupted on his face as he pulled her closer to him and pressed another kiss on her lips. His arms found their way around her waist as hers rested on his arms. Smiling once they broke apart, he said, "I suppose that was the best way to shut me up."

********

(One Year Later)

Steve never really was good at secrets. It seemed that everything he wanted to hide from his beloved girlfriend was impossible to do. Perhaps he was terrible at keeping them, but he liked to say it was because she was just so smart.

Fumbling around with the last few touches he quickly ran over to the couch and waited for Y/n too walk through the door. Jingle of the keys were heard, and a smile found its way to Steve face. "Hey babe, how are you doing?" Y/n asked as she walked in.

"I'm good," she placed a kiss on his cheek as she walked by, throwing her bag by the kitchen table. "Hey, do you mind grabbing my glasses for me in the bedroom?" he asked as she nodded, throwing her hair up into a ponytail.

Calling out to him as she headed to the room she said, "where are they?"

"They should be in the drawer next to the bed."

"Alright," she nodded as she opened the door into the room. Opening the drawer, her eyes were surprised to find a small velvet box sitting in the middle of the drawer, rose petals scattered around it. "Steve? What's all of –"

Picking up the box she turned around when she saw Steve down on one knee, a shiny diamond ring in his hand. "Y/n, doll. I know we've only been dating for a year, but I know you make me a better person and I know I love you with every single piece of my heart. You've sacrificed your time for me and your lazy Fridays," Y/n laughed as tears glistened in her eyes. "But I just want you to know I love you so much, would you do the honour of making me the happiest man in the world?"

Sobbing as tears cascaded down her cheeks she nodded aggressively. "Yes! A million times yes Steve. I love you so much," placing the ring on her finger he smiled as he took her face in his hands and kissed her passionately.

The two walked out of the room and loud cheers could be heard. "I knew she would say yes! What else could she have said?" Bucky shouted, hugging his friend who laughed.

Giggling she headed over to Natasha and Tony who hugged her tightly. "You know Steve was hiding all six of us in your bathroom? It was terribly tight. But I'm proud of you girl," Tony laughed before agreeing and ruffling her hair.

Bruce and Clint congratulated her and after harassing Steve, so did Bucky and Sam. They popped open some of Tony's celebratory alcohol and cheered. As soon as all the commotion had settled down Bucky cleared his throat. "Can I just say I predicted this like a year ago?"

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Honey, we all predicted this. Don't act like you were the only one," everyone laughed before they all held a toast.

"To our two favourite blind love idiots who took way too long to date but the right amount of time to get engaged!" Clint announced as everyone chorused; "To Y/n and Steve!"

Sipping their drinks, the newly engaged couple smiled at the other and kissed deeply. "I love you Y/n," Steve said as she kissed his cheek.

"I love you too, Steven Grant Rogers."

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