#whew it’s like i cross off one thing and three more take its place

[goldensunset]

i just gotta make it through this *checks schedule* hmm. entire semester

[avintagekiss24]

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖗 | 𝖇. 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘

→ pairing: beefy shadow monster!bucky barnes x black!reader

→ word count: 5367

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, dub con, a tinge of somnophilia, exophilia, #monster fucker, smut, sex, rough sex, masturbation, rough masturbation, sex toys, butt stuff, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, voyeurism, explicit language

→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo​ 

wiping the other’s tears away

→ author note: guys, i’m... this is who we are now. we are monster fuckers. this is based on @idga-buck​ INCREDIBLE ask that was bred from this post. i honestly don’t know if this holds a candle to that ask because, whew girl. that shit fucked me up when i first read it! anyway, hope you guys enjoy because i might be planning a little monster fucker series based off of this and another certain someone that is mentioned in the fic.

→ read hirsute

The stress in your shoulders makes it hard to lift your arm once you finally reach your apartment door. It takes everything in you to shove your key into the lock and slam your hip against the old, swollen wooden door to pop it open, but just crossing the threshold into your sanctuary helps soothe your nerves. Everything falls to the floor within an instant— purse, messenger bag, coat— hell, even your keys. Hopping on one foot to remove a light brown, velvet heel, and then the other as you make your way towards your bedroom, ignoring the lively green house plants scattered around window seals and the living room.

You don’t even bother to turn on the lights. Don’t make a pit stop in the kitchen, or even the bathroom to remove your makeup. Hunger pains be damned. There are exactly two things that will help with this mood— an orgasm, and sleep. Thank God one always leads to the other.

It was 10:12am, just two hours into your work day, when you knew what you were going to need to help forget about this day. Emails piling up, phone ringing off the hook, picking up the slack for coworkers because you’re just so well versed in this… we could really use your help. Took its toll. By 10:12am you were ready to scream, punch your perky, always in a good mood cubicle mate, and rip your hair out— so you knew, right then and there, that you were gonna fuck yourself stupid when you got home.

Perverted thoughts lingered all day as you rifled through old court filings and scoured obscure statutes. Thighs tightened as your sex started to dampen at fantasies of being bent over your boss’ desk. Caught yourself staring, more than once, through his open door as he chatted on the phone, bright blue eyes glinting underneath the natural sunlight that poured into his office, crinkling on the sides as he laughed.

Then he would furrow those brows as he read through briefings. Jaw and lips set tight, eyes squinted as he nibbled absentmindedly on his bottom lip. Big hands and thick fingers made the pen in his hand seem entirely too small. Pink tongue darted out to wet pink lips.

You’ve spent many a night with thoughts of Andrew Stephen Barber; and tonight will be no different.

Dark shadows are cast across the floor and bed, small slivers of moonlight creeping in. The sound of your shoes hitting the floor don’t even register in your ears as you wiggle out of your skirt and panties and fall onto the soft, warm, inviting Queen mattress.

Deft fingers make light work of the buttons on your silk blouse but the other hand can’t wait— slipping down your stomach and between sticky, hot flesh. A sharp inhale fills your chest as you rub slow circles against your clit, pangs of quick excitement starting to fire off. Your fingers push down to your slit, prodding and stroking gently as a new wet starts to slick your muscles.

A lazy smile curls onto your face. The stress of the day starts to evaporate as you melt into the mattress, the circles against your clit quickening, hips starting to roll and push up into your hand. The expensive silk of your blouse falls off your shoulders just a bit as you push it away from your chest, exposing two bare tits and quickly thickening nipples.

You take hold of one— tweaking it slow. Pinching and rolling the nub before palming your tit all together, cupping and pushing the mound of flesh up your chest. A swipe of your tongue— rough and torrid— against your nipple makes you grunt deep. Makes your hips jut upward as you prod that now filthy wet slit and hole.

Muscles flex as the sound of your dirty deed fills the empty space. Wet squeaks and sloshes bounce off the walls as fingers thrash back and forth and up and down against your clit. Heavy, thick thuds of your palm pounding against your body when one, two, three fingers finally slip inside— but they aren’t enough. Not wide enough or long enough to feed the hunger.

Then… there’s a shift. The atmosphere in your apartment— your room specifically— just changes on a dime. The tiny hairs on your body start to stand on end, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your eyes slide open, blinking up at the ceiling as your pumping hand slows down to just a creep before stilling completely. An already racing heart starts to beat harder, lips part, eyes and limbs completely frozen in place as fear strikes you.

You’ve felt this before, at random times since you moved in. Sometimes in the shower or in the kitchen, when you’re getting ready for work, or catching up on a show— but mainly at times like this. When you’re stretched out on your bed, naked, fingers rooted deep in your cunt, when you feel like you’re being watched. Like there’s a thousand eyes on you all at once.

There’s even a chill that takes over the room, sometimes getting so cold that for a brief moment, you can see your breath. You’ve gone to management a few times, who of course did nothing— but a few of your neighbors put your mind at ease, it happens to them sometimes too. It struck you odd that it was mainly just your female neighbors who experienced the random chills, but you brushed it off. You live on the southside of the complex, the sun gets blocked by the surrounding buildings. You also live on the first floor— heat rises, cold sinks. It happens.

You swallow hard, shutting your eyes, trying to center yourself again. A small laugh escapes your lips seconds later— you’re ridiculous. Maybe it's time to lay off the horror movies for a while.

Shrugging out of your blouse the rest of the way, you roll onto your side and pull open the drawer of your nightstand. Out comes the cute little heart shaped butt plug, complete with a pretty pink crystal gem. A small bottle of water based lube is next, and then, the pièce de résistance. Your ten inch tall, two inch wide realistic dildo.

Your stomach tightens with anticipation as you fumble with the flip cap of the small purple bottle of lube. Just a dollop is enough to coat the steel plug, the excess on your fingers used to wet your warm, puckered hole. Melting back into the mattress, you roll your shoulders, let your eyes flutter closed, and grab your bottom lip between your teeth as you massage your rim with the rounded tip, gently pushing.

A soft moan vibrates in your throat as your body opens up. Your hole twitches, clenching tight around the toy as it disappears with a quick pop as soon as the widest part is shoved in, leaving nothing to be seen but the pink heart flush against your hot rim. You draw your legs up, calves pressed against the backs of your thighs, butterflying open as you drag the fake cock through your folds— against your clit— using your slick to lubricate the soft silicone.

Fingers find your nub soon after, slapping quick, before stroking the delicate flesh as you start to tease your slit. The cock head slips in easy, but you're so tight, so worked up and eager, muscles swollen, that it takes a little more effort to swallow the rest. Tiny little wet squeaks fall from your lips, body tenses and curls inward as you push, push, push— mouth falling open, face splintering with pleasure.

It takes not even ten seconds for your body to adjust, hips wiggling and shifting to get comfortable, before you're pulling the massive toy out and shoving it back in. You start to murmur, indiscernible, clipped words filtering through full lips— a hot tongue slipping out, sweeping over teeth as your hips start to get into it.

You’re soon too far gone to notice the black shadows moving around the room. Chalk up the feeling of the little hairs standing on end, the goosebumps popping up across your body to your arousal— and not the two piercing blue eyes that illuminate at the edge of your bed.

~~~

Bucky could reach out and touch you he’s so close now. He’s careful still— almost getting caught by you earlier, his anticipation for your almost nightly show getting the best of him. Making him sloppy.

He’s haunted these walls, these rooms, these buildings for decades, if not a century or more. Seen generation after generation moving in and out, kids growing up into adults, adults growing old, the old dying off— but you— fuck, you’ve got to be his goddamn favorite of them all.

Deep brown skin. Lithe and delicate. A soft little quiet thing, engrossed in her solitude and house plants, more than happy to shut the rest of the world out more often than not. You’re gentle. Your soul, your physicality, except in these moments. When you fuck yourself like this, and it doesn’t matter when— in the mornings when the sun is soft, in the late afternoons, your body covered in the oranges and pinks of the sky, late at night in the absolute darkness with nothing but the moon and the shadows— you’re anything but gentle.

Unrestrained and wild you are when in the throes of your arousal. Writhing and loud, a thin sheen of sweat on your brow. Eyes clamped closed so tight sometimes sweet little tears squeeze out and slip down your cheeks. Two perfect tits, mounds of soft flesh, jiggle and bounce with the aggressive thrashes of your fingers against a glistening, sensitive nub.

Nights like tonight are his favorite. When you’re acutely aware that he’s here, but too scared to really give it much thought. When the fear strikes you stiff. When you pull out that monstrous fake cock and spread yourself wide— stretch that pretty, pink, wet cunt. The squelch, the squish of the foreign object being jammed into hot, distended muscles.

Your smell. So sweet and pungent— distinctly you. It’s constantly on the tip of Bucky’s tongue, filling his nostrils, swirling in his head and chest— taunting him. Intoxicating him. Begging and beseeching him to just reach out and touch. Taste. Oh, to have your scent— your flavor— on his lips to savor. He wants to bury his face between those thighs, drown between them. Slither into you and curl up, take up residence.

Bucky’s gotten bold as of late— now, not even waiting until you’re fucked out and sex drunk, falling into a peaceful, post orgasm slumber to move around. No. Now he shifts while you’re still awake, still fucking— toy sowed deep, fingers slapping, hips snapping, back arching.

You’ve snapped your head towards him once or twice over time as you’ve caught his movement in the corner of your eye. Sat straight up, mouth hanging, eyes wide, chest heaving as you stared into the darkness— waiting. Scared shitless. You even tried to cover yourself, hands over your tits, legs closing into each other.

It made him laugh.

You’re already his. That body claimed— no need to cover it up now.

Even tonight, he’s even bolder still. Right at the edge of your bed, peering on. It’s a damn near perfect view when you get like this— sloppy. Legs splayed open, heels dug into the mattress, hips arched off the bed. Your slick glistens underneath the moonlight, splashed on your thighs, strings connected between two puffy, balmy lips. It’s nothing but an invitation— an invitation that he can’t ignore for much longer.

He pushes his knee into the mattress, and then the other, his substantial weight dipping it. Piercing blue eyes snap towards your face as he stalls, waiting for any indication that you feel him there— a smile curling onto his lips when it doesn’t come. So he pushes closer, settles right at your feet. Reaches out, hovers long, black fingers over your chest— so close that his pointed, sharp nails graze your skin.

Makes you gasp.

Bucky snaps his hand back, but you don’t stop. You shiver. Goosebumps ever present on every inch of your skin— but you don’t stop. In fact, you get faster, harder. Pounding that fake cock into your cunt, pushing your hips higher as you slap and knead at that sticky, swollen nub.

You like it.

You like his touch.

Pride swells in Bucky’s chest. Maybe you’re much more receptive than he originally thought. Maybe it’s the fear itself— knowing you’re being watched by something, not someone— is what turns you on. And it makes Bucky bolder still.

He looms over you, hand pressing into the mattress right by your head. Head tilting as he leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek. You jump again, mewl loud when his nails scrape against your skin, between your jiggling, bouncing tits. He wants to fuck you so bad. Stuff you full of his monster cock— he knows you can take it. Knows you can stretch wide for his veiny, dripping prick. Suck those pretty tits into his wet mouth, those hard, perky nipples between his sharp teeth. But he won’t, not now.

You’re so close.

And this is always the best part.

So he pushes away, away from the bed. Hovers up near the ceiling, eyes shifting from their brilliant blue to pitch black so he can enjoy your finale. Then he’ll wait a while, maybe a few nights— maybe a few hours, who knows—  to encourage an encore.

With a little help, of course.

~~~

You cry out, shrieking into the darkness as the coil planted deep threatens to snap. The chill in the room has your nipples hard, but the heat blooming across your skin has you damp and sticky. There’s gusts of something— splashing over your naked body— but the windows are closed. The air conditioning turned completely off.

It feels like breath. You’d swear it— and it’s so close. Like someone, or something, is right on top of you. Shudders wrack your body, adrenaline rushes as ice floods your veins. Alarm, panic, sheer horror gripping you.

But, you cum before you can rationalize it. Before you can pinpoint it.

It’s so sweet, the orgasm, so deep as the warmth of it spreads like wildfire. Toes curl hard, so hard they go numb as the waves crash, each one harder than the one before. Heart in your throat, the blood rush in your ears. Muscles spasming, clenching and clamping down around the silicone cock, clit jumping with each contraction of your cunt.

It lasts for awhile— your body knowing that this is what you needed. So you ride it out as long as you can, fingers still rubbing and thrashing against your clit until it’s too sensitive. You stuff the cock into you one last time and leave it there, fixed so deep as your body falls back against the mattress. Your asshole constricts around the plug, twitching and fluttering as the last jerks of your hips start to subside.

Chest heaves with deep, long, ragged breaths. Tits pushing up and down, jiggling, stomach flexing as you go limp. Limp and fucked out. Asshole and cunt used, hot— weeping lube and cum. You’re a mess. A beautiful, sated, sloppy mess.

A lazy smile on your face, eyes hooded, you stare up at the ceiling. Unaware that you’ve found two black eyes just perfectly— stare right into them as they peer back at you.

Sleep starts to pull, a mushy, hazy brain giving in all too easily, not giving you time to recognize that you’re being watched again. That there’s a presence looming just over you— all around you. Or maybe, it's a mechanism. Maybe you don’t want to recognize it. So you roll over onto your side, shimmy underneath the blankets to gather some warmth. Shut your eyes and give into the sleep— vow to stop watching those cheesy scary movies so late at night.

They’re making you paranoid.

-

The sting of cold on your extremities makes you stir. Letting out a yawn, you flex your toes, pulling the blankets up to your chin as a chill ripples through your bones. You roll onto your back, and push out a breath, not opening your eyes to see the white puff of air. Another shiver, a deep one, rolls through you again, making you shift underneath the blankets and push your face into the pillow.

Moments later is when you perceive a warmth. A soft moan trembles in your throat as you smash the back of your hand against your face, still teetering between sleep and consciousness. The ache between your legs grows harder to ignore— the warmth, starting to sear. Your hips buck soft. Another groan scratches at the back of your throat.

You’re writhing within minutes. A white hot molten pooling in the pit of your stomach and spreading out to the tips of your fingers and toes. The cold nothing but a distant memory as the familiar burn of lechery encompasses your tight body.

It feels so real— a long, forked, rough tongue lapping at your folds, swishing around your clit. You jump suddenly, gasping deep when something like teeth, so many sharp teeth, nibble and bite at the meat of your thighs. There's pressure, pressing down on your stomach and wrapped around your thigh as you draw your knees up slow, digging the balls of your feet into the mattress. The pressure, it’s warm and vast— something like a palm… there’s scratching, quick little tickles over your stomach, your tits, your ankles and calves.

Fingernails. Long, jagged fingernails.

You give in to the fantasy— the dream. Not opening your eyes, not giving into the consciousness that tugs at you, not wanting to lose this euphoria. The pressure on your stomach gets harder, heightening the sensation of the tongue against your core and almost pinning your writhing hips to the sturdy mattress.

The tongue, rough and wet, slithers through your folds, flicking quick against your clit before the mouth sucks you right up— lips, clit— right into it. Tongue flattening against your slit, teasing your pink opening. Then, oh God, and then it slithers inside, that tongue. Massages your hot, swollen muscles from the inside. Your body jolts up, away from the mattress, a breathy, drawn-out snarl bursting from your lips.

You fall back against the mattress— liquify into it really and let your hands roam, finding your taut, thick nipples. Tweaking and rolling them, pinching between deft fingers before palming your tits feeling the goosebumps that have popped up on your flesh again. Your knees fall apart, legs splaying open, putting your swollen cunt on full display for this invisible force.

It’s not long before your hips are jutting up into the dream tongue, the lips, the teeth hard and fast, a sharp sting piercing your clit just as you start to cum again. Loud, shaky moans fill the room as your hips pulse and your back arches. Cursing, whaling as the dream tongue swipes and flicks, lips wrap around your nub again, sucking hard, coaxing every last drop of your release out of you.

Thighs, stomach, arms, cunt burn as a delicious stretch, a used ache settles deep in the exploited muscles. Long, hoarse breaths fill your chest, the air rushing so fast, and yet so slow that it makes you dizzy. You couldn’t move if you wanted to, everything is just so fucking heavy.

Brain is mush again, cloudy and dense, stupid with ardor. Lazy, broken moans vibrate through your vocal chords, body twitches with quick aftershocks every now and again, making you giggle. You feel like you’ve been hit by a mack truck. It’s so nice.

Once your breathing has slowed back to normal, you roll your head towards the window, open your eyes just enough to see the moon cutting into the room. Relief floods through your veins, happy to find it’s still night time, still dark, your room still moody, giving you time to fall back asleep with the pleasant thoughts of whatever just happened— but you’re a mess again. Skin sticky and damp, panties ruined. Your eyes droop and close as you push out a soft breath, hand slipping down your body. You should really clean up.

Maybe in a few minutes. You push your knees together slowly, swaying them back and forth as your fingertips find your clit, toying with it gently. They calm your jumbled nerves quite nicely and immediately— the touch familiar. Your fingers stretch out, tips push down just a little lower as you smile stupid and lazy and blink slowly up at the ceiling.

The smile doesn’t last long.

Your eyes pop open as a simultaneous sharp gasp fills your chest with cold air. Blood runs ice cold through your veins.

“Good,” a scratchy voice sounds as your fingers push through a tuft of thick hair just between your legs, hot breath sticking to tacky flesh.

Shallow, quick breaths squeak through your teeth, eyes wide, lips and chin trembling as your limbs grow heavy— oh so heavy. Frozen. You slam your eyes shut when a hand slides slowly up your side, serrated nails skipping across your skin. A sob chokes out as you slam your eyes shut, fear gripping every inch of your body.

The wet, long, hot tongue of your dreams swipes at your core again but you’re still sensitive— jumpy— hips pushing down into the mattress to get away from it. A second hand grabs your hip, squeezes it hard, stilling your lower half as it laps at you again. The crawling hand finds your left tit, cups it— kneads it slow— rolling the thick bud between even thicker fingers.

“Look at me.” The voice sounds again, like gravel, low and rough.

Your clit is sucked into an instant warmth, a wide, flat tongue massaging— rolling— gently. A soft, tiny little noise thrums in your throat as a shudder ripples through already irritated muscles. The sound pleases whatever is between your legs, as it chuckles deep, the vibrations adding to the sensation of its tongue.

It pinches your nipple— quick, hard— and bites down into the meat of your thigh while also squeezing it with it’s other massive hand, “I want you to look at me.” you hesitate— and it doesn’t like it, “Look at me.”

The chill in its voice forces your eyes open, but you keep them on the ceiling as silent tears trickle down the side of your face and onto your pillow. An influx of air fills your lungs when a hand pushes up to your face. A thumb swipes underneath your eye gently before an index finger curls to wipe away the wet emotion.

“You’re pretty when you cry,” it says, a little softer, still rubbing your cheek slowly, “Look at me.”

Against your better judgement, fighting through the fear, you blink, shifting your eyes towards your drawn-up legs. There are two big eyes, unnaturally blue, probing and upturned, staring back at you, disappearing in the dark as it blinks before they settle back on you. In fact, they stay on you as it’s tongue flicks out at you again, sweeps through your folds, teasing your opening, your clit again. It palms your tit, squeezing before sitting up, exposing it’s true size.

Your eyes follow slowly upward as it towers over you, it’s knees pressing into the mattress, dipping it deep with its weight. You struggle to breathe, eyes flutter quick as your lips tremble, taking in the umbra. There’s a wide chest, thick biceps and forearms and hands and fingers that push your legs back— towards your chest and stomach. Stocky thighs and a—

You gulp slow, sitting up on your elbows as your eyes zero in on the throbbing, weeping cock between its legs. The moon illuminates the pulsing veins running the impressive length, the wet, red, dripping cockhead— cum already dribbling out, splashing on your skin. It’s hot and silky— dense, the cum, as it wipes the spot away with it’s thumb, a nail cutting into your skin.

It grabs itself, strokes it’s massive cock slow as it drags its eyes along your naked body. Another shudder trembles through you when it teases your cunt with it’s cockhead, pressing into your clit, dragging through your folds, prodding at your slit. You let your head drop slightly, let your eyes close to slits, let your mouth drop as it’s fingers skip up and down your thighs, it’s jagged, black nails tickling you.

Errant hips canter upward, pushing your clit against its tip again, coating it with your slick before you let it settle back against your opening.

“Now that you can see me, beautiful,” it’s raspy voice sounds, starting to push into you, “I want you to scream.”

It juts into you hard, pulling a loud scream out of you— just what it wanted. You pant as it pushes, deep, deep, deep, until its hips are flush with yours, cock completely sunk. It doesn’t move right away, lets you wiggle and twitch, hiss and grunt as you adjust to the size— the absolute fullness. Stretched so wide, clasped so tight around this pulsating cock that you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

But you’ll risk it.

It locks one of your legs around it’s waist, throws the other over its shoulder, slipping its massive hand down the length, down your calf, over your knee, along your thigh until it’s fingers settle on your cunt— on your clit. Slow circles are drawn into your flesh, a gentle pressure applied as it pulls back, cock dragging out of your death grip. You hiss as it sinks back in, reaching something deep.

It’s blistering after that. Within seconds, hips are snapping, skin slapping against… skin? You aren’t even sure. Long fingers are everywhere, tits, stomach, legs, cunt— gripping, groping, pinching. They venture up to your chin, up to your parted, swollen lips, where they linger. You send wide, innocent eyes up to its blues, tits sliding up and down as you lunge with each thrust— and open your mouth wider, sliding your tongue along the tip of its finger.

When a husky moan rumbles through its chest, your heart soars unexpectedly. It’s pleased with your eagerness— your reception.

You’re empty suddenly. A strong hand grips your side, pulls you roughly down the bed. Flips you over before yanking your hips upward, propping you up on your knees. And then, you’re pinned— an unyielding grip around the back of your neck holding you in place. You grunt and start to whimper,  another bout of fright coursing through your veins as it smashes the side of your face into the sheets and pillows.

It fucks back into you slow, a long, shuddering groan spilling out of your trembling lips, “My pet,” it speaks again, squeezing the back of your neck a little harder, “Such a sweet little thing.”

Reaching back, your fingers graze over a sinewy thigh, taking hold as you start to spring forward with each drive of its hips. You slam your eyes closed, more emotion squeezing out of them. The dull burn is back in the pit of your stomach. Your toes and fingers start to curl and flex as each stroke gets sweeter and sweeter, hitting that deep little spot within.

Goosebumps pop up again. Heat blooms across your skin, filling your face and chest and stomach. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth as two pouty lips form a perfect little “o” as you start to shriek, each sound coming faster and faster, louder and louder. Your fingers find your nub again, rubbing and slapping to set this release in motion. The sound of your slick is sloppy, wet— and gorgeous, to both you and it.

You’re cursing, sobbing, begging within minutes, teetering right on the edge. It starts to thumb at your asshole, rubbing the rim gently, pushing just inside— coaxing you on.

That’s all it takes. You tense hard— toes curl, fists ball, stomach clenches— and then stiffen as your orgasm hits. A white hot flushing through as you quake, cunt spasming around it’s heavy cock. Jammed full, orgasm rippling, fingers still thrashing against your constricting clit, you’re dizzy, warm all over, sweaty and freezing cold all at the same time.

Your companion— this monster of the night, lurking in the shadows— hammers on behind you, pumping, gripping, squeezing, pushing you down further into the mattress as his strokes get sharper. Stronger. More forceful.

It gets loud. Growling so deep and heavy that the sound shakes the walls— the bed. God, the poor neighbors. It grips your hip with one hand so hard you yelp in pain, hands flailing, trying to grip and grab anything they can as it fucks into you.

One, two more jabs and it stills quick— and that’s when you feel it. Another white hot, this time all concentrated in your overstimulated, tight, wet cunt. Long ribbons of cum, silk soft and warm, fill you up, up, up— to the brim. It’s cock veins pulsate, it’s girth seemingly growing wider, stretching you more as it unloads. Cock jumping in your tight grasp as cum weeps from it.

You take it all, humming loud and proud, panting as you feel it’s seed spill out, down the inside of your thigh.

It drags out slow, as if not wanting to at all. Like it likes the feeling of your messy, cum filled cunt all wrapped around him. You feel that swollen cock head through your folds again, slowly pushing up and down your clit, teasing your slit. A finger, and then another glance over your asshole— lovingly. Softly. Massaging the twitching rim before burying it’s hard cock between your cheeks, slapping you with it.

“No more,” you plead, voice small and broken and pathetic, “Please, I can’t.”

Another chuckle rumbles through its chest, “Ok sweet girl,” there’s a hand on the back of your head, stroking curly, damp, surely tangled hair, “Such a good girl.”

Hands are back on your skin again, fingers pushing and pulling, adjusting you on the mattress. You’re flat now, splayed out on your belly, legs spread, hands shoved underneath your pillows and head. Balmy skin, puffy flesh is soothed by slow gushes of breath, making you jump and whine more— whimper more. The bed sinks again as it moves, pulled again, your back up against a massive chest and hard stomach.

It wraps around you, slinging an arm and a leg over you, enveloping you in its warmth. Rids your face of the wetness, pushing the remaining tears away with its thumb. Nuzzles in close— a scratchy cheek against your own.

A heavy hand over your heart.

“I like this,” it says soft, tapping along with your heartbeat, “The rhythm.”

You hum again, happily fucked out and cock drunk, already feeling an ache settling into your muscles and bones. Hips and ass push back into its hips, pushing its dense cock against you— wanting to feel it resting against your cunt, “You got a name?”

“Brarthronoz.”

“Excuse me?” you giggle through a deep yawn as your eyes flutter.

It— he nuzzles again, pushing his face closer, “Bucky is fine, pet.”

“Bucky,” you sigh a little, “I like that.”

You fall asleep with the soft rhythm of his breath against your neck.

-

When you wake, he’s gone— but you kinda figured that anyway. The oranges of the sky and rising sun chases away all the shadows. You go about your routine but a little slower— inflamed, throbbing arms and legs make showering and brushing your teeth a little harder this morning.

You look for him though, in the corner of your little kitchen, in that small spot where the sun just never quite reaches.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you find a pair of bright blue eyes fixed on you, a little wink encouraging you further.

“Toast?” You ask cheekily, a wide smile on your face as you offer him a plate.

[restlessfandoming]

glaze lily (childe x lumine oneshot)

Lumine let out a huge yawn as she clambered down the steps of the Liyue Inn.

Paimon rubbed her eyes next to her. “Yesterday was such a long day of doing things for Zhongli.” The little guide then perked up. “At least we get a day off today! Paimon thinks we should spend the whole day eating!”

Lumine nodded, mouth salivating at the thought of breakfast. Hmm, what to eat? Grilled Tiger Fish? Mora Meat? Stir-Fried—

She opened the door of the Inn straight into Childe.

“Ahh!” Paimon screamed as Lumine jumped back, hand hovering over the hilt of her sword.

Childe let out a sheepish laugh. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lumine let out a sigh of relief, dematerializing her blade. Paimon, on the other hand, let out a huff of anger.

She floated over to the Harbinger, hands on her hips. “What is it that you want? Scaring us first thing in the morning like that!”

“Were you waiting outside for me to wake up?” Lumine asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Only for a bit.” He pulled out a pocket watch. “I assumed the two of you like to sleep in,” he said as he dangled the watch in front of Lumine, “and looks like I was right.”

She rolled her eyes upon seeing that it was nearly the afternoon already as Childe gave her a tiny smirk.

Paimon made noises of protest. “Well, it’s not our fault that you and Zhongli have been making us run around doing all these tiring quests!”

“Well, the two of you have proved more than competent in completing these tasks.” His blue eyes lingered on Lumine, and she felt the need to look away. “Speaking of which,” he continued, “I would like for you to accompany me on a trip today.”

“What’s in it for us?” Lumine asked. Paimon feverishly nodded in agreement.

Childe tilted his head. “Well, as always I’m willing to offer lots of Mora…”

Then, Lumine’s stomach growled. Loudly. Her face flushed.

The Harbinger burst out laughing. “And I’ll throw in breakfast, on me.”

Lumine huffed and crossed her arms, face still burning. “Fine, we’ll take your deal.”

Paimon spun around excitedly. “Yay! Food!”

“So, where to?” Childe asked.

Lumine walked past him, going towards the smell of cooking food. “Whatever smells best.” From the corner of eye, she saw him shake his head with a smile.

After a few moments of following their noses, Paimon and the traveler stopped in front of Su Er’niang’s street food stand.

“That smells…” Lumine started.

“Sooooo gooood!” Paimon interjected, quickly flying to the vendor. “What is that you’re cooking?”

Su Er’niang smiled. “Why, it’s my delicious Zhongyuan Chop Suey!” She held up a plate of aromatic seasoned fish and meat skewers, nestled on a bed of glistening greens. Saliva dripped from Paimon’s mouth.

“How much for a plate?” Lumine asked, after swallowing her own watering mouthful.

“6,600 Mora!”

Her jaw dropped. “6-6,00 Mora for one plate?”

She felt a gloved hand rest on her shoulder, and a bag descended in front of her face.

“Here’s 20,000 Mora,” Childe’s voice rang out above her, directed at the vendor. “Get us three plates. You can keep the leftover money.”

“Oh, uhm, thank you, sir,” Su Er’niang said, taking the bag, eyes nervously flickering between the Fatui member and the traveler.

Ah, yes, the Fatui are very much feared. And for good reason. Lumine recalled Signoria’s attack on her and Venti. How cold and violent it was. She shuddered and shook off Childe’s hand.

“Let’s find a place to sit,” she said, walking away. Childe’s hand briefly hovered where it had been on her shoulder, before dropping to his side. He started to follow her to a table.

The two sat down across from each other, but the air had changed. The harbor was bustling with life in the afternoon sun, but all Lumine felt was Childe’s icy gaze. She tried to awkwardly eat, while his food remained untouched. Paimon scarfed down the skewers, completely oblivious to the tension in front of her. After a while, Lumine set down her food, opening her mouth to say something. But Childe spoke first.

“You still don’t trust me.” His eyes held the same hurt expression from before, when she had initially expressed her distrust of him about the Signoria incident. However, Zhongli wasn’t there to break the tension this time.

“You know why,” Lumine said, her voice tight. “The Fatui can’t be trusted.” It was harsh to say, but it was true. If she let people too close—a member of the Fatui at that—there was no telling what would happen; it could jeopardize her and her brother, wherever he was. If they found out she wasn’t of this world…

The Harbinger’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I won’t disagree there. But I have no interest in being like Signoria, or like the rest of the Fatui at that. As I’ve said before, I don’t agree with their methods.”

“Then why continue to be a part of it?”

“Yeah, you should leave if you don’t like them,” Paimon said quietly, hovering behind Lumine’s shoulder, scared.

He crossed his arms. “We all have our reasons for doing things. I have my reasons to do what I do, just like how you,” he said, leaning in, “have your reasons for keeping secrets.”

Lumine and Childe stared at each other, both with their eyes calculating and searching for answers.

Then, he let out a chuckle, breaking the tension. “Let’s not get so serious so early in the day!” He took a bite of the Chop Suey. “Tasty! Thankfully we don’t need chopsticks for this,” he said with a wink.

The traveler’s brows furrowed, and she exchanged a worried look with Paimon.

Childe sighed. “Look, I’d like for us to be...friends. Would that be so bad?”

Friends…

“Come with me today, and I promise, no funny business,” he said.

After a moment of silence, Lumine finally spoke, “Where would we be going anyways?” Was this a bad idea?

“Qingce Village.” He seemed to perk up slightly at Lumine agreeing. “I’m on a diplomatic mission, but it’s a rather long journey there alone.” He gave a small smile. “It would be a lot easier with another person accompanying me.”

“Hey! Paimon’s here too!” the fairy protested.

“Sorry, two other people accompanying me.”

“Why not any of your subordinates?” Lumine asked.

Childe rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head. “Boring. It’s always silent. Or, it’s ‘Yes, sir’ this and ‘Yes, sir’ that. I’d much rather have someone like you with me.” His eyes locked with hers.

She felt butterflies in her stomach. She scoffed, trying to get rid of them. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as you finish your food, girlie.”

Lumine stuffed a whole skewer in her mouth, trying to hide the heat that was steadily rising from her stomach to her face. Childe laughed.

“Hurry up, Lumine! Paimon’s already all done!” Paimon lifted her empty plate, going to show Childe. Struggling under the weight, however, she accidentally hit him in the face.

Lumine snorted, and soon, the three of them were all smiles and laughs.

Friends...Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad…

                               * * *

“Are we almost there yet? Paimon’s tired…,” Paimon asked, dramatically drooping her shoulders.

“You don’t even walk, you float,” Lumine said.

Paimon pouted. “Doesn’t make it any less tiring.”

“We’re nearly there. The last bridge to cross is up ahead,” Childe answered.

“Oo, Lumine look!��� Paimon floated to a plant with shining red fruit hanging from its branches. “Juyeun Chilis!”

Seeing the chilis reminded her of Xiangling. She grimaced at the thought of slime soup.

Paimon sniffed one, and immediately began coughing. “W-wow! Even—cough—even the smell is s-spicy!”

Childe walked over and plucked one, examining it. “Hmm, I’ve yet to try one during my stay in Liyue.”

“Do you like spicy food?” Lumine asked.

“Not necessarily. But, I’m not opposed to trying new things.” He proceeded to take a bite of the chili, as if it were an apple.

Lumine and Paimon both gasped.

He looked at them. “What?”

The traveler regarded him with wide eyes. “Y-you have no reaction?”

He shrugged. “I guess not.”

“You’re a psychopath.”

“Oh? You really think so?” His blue eyes glinted.

Before Lumine could respond, a group of Treasure Hoarders jumped out from the shadows of the bamboo lining the pathway.

“What do we have here? Some lone travelers?” the largest of the group said.

“Some lone travelers we easily outnumber, boss,” another Hoarder added, waving his bow around.

The other Hoarders laughed sardonically, all brandishing their weapons of choice. There were 10 of them, all closing in around Lumine, Childe, and Paimon.

“Give us all your belongings, and we won’t make a fuss,” the boss demanded.

Soon, Lumine and Childe were back to back, with Paimon frantically looking for somewhere to hide.

“Think you can take half of them?” Childe murmured.

Lumine scoffed. “Of course.”

“When I draw my spear then.”

She inched her hand towards where her hilt would materialize momentarily. Then, WHOOSH, the sound of rushing water filled her ears as Childe’s spear formed next to her.

Lumine’s sword appeared in her hand as she rushed forth, striking the closest enemy. They were stunned, giving her time to charge up a Palm Vortex, which ended up sending two of the Hoarders spiraling away. With three left, she charged with her blade again, continuously delivering hits, then sending out a Gust Surge, blowing the remaining three enemies away.

She turned to Childe, ready to assist him, only to find him standing there, watching her. The Treasure Hoarders on his side were already subdued, all groaning on the ground in pain.

“Very impressive,” he said. “No wonder you’re the renowned ‘Hero of Mondstadt.’”

She rolled her eyes. “Good job to you too.”

Paimon flew out from behind a nearby rock. “Whew! We took those guys out fast!”

Lumine raised her brows. “We?”

“You and Childe make a good team!” Paimon said, ignoring the question.

“Yes, I’d say we do,” the Harbinger agreed. “What do you say we join forces?”

“No thank you,” Lumine answered. “Dealing with Paimon is enough.”

“Hey!”

Lumine started walking towards the bridge. “C’mon, it’s almost nighttime,” she said, eyeing the colors of the sunset splashed across the sky.

As the three of them crossed the bridge, the sight of the village came into view.

Lumine gaped at the beautiful sea of yellow and orange fields and crystal rivers. She went straight to one of the fields, looking at the colorful flowers.

“So pretty!” Paimon said, laying down in the plants, and closing her eyes. “So soft…”

“I take it you like the village?” Childe asked, walking up behind them.

The traveler nodded. “It’s quiet. Peaceful.”

They stood in silence for a while. Birds chirped. The wind rustled. In the distance, children playfully screamed. The sun was dipping below the horizon, and Paimon’s tiny snores started to fill the air. Childe and Lumine both chuckled.

“Before I speak with the elders,” he started. He leaned down, and picked something out of the ground. A brilliant blue flower with shimmering white petals in the center. “Here.” He held it out for Lumine.

“A glaze lily?” she asked. She remembered seeing some at Liyue Harbor.

“Yes. They’re an extremely ancient flower, and they only open at night.” He brought it closer to her nose. “Zhongli said that it transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance when it opens.”

Lumine leaned in, closed her eyes, and sniffed. There was a scent of the earth, reminiscent of the vast mountain ranges across the land, along with the salty spray of the ocean.

“Yes, it definitely smells like how I would imagine Liyue smells.” She opened her eyes, and to her shock, found Childe’s face closer to hers than before.

She blushed slightly, wanting to back away, but his intense icy blue eyes kept her in place. One of his hands reached up, and then took out the white flowers in her hair.

“Let’s see how this looks,” he said, quieter—his voice more husky—than usual. He gently put the glaze lily in her hair, then stared at her silently.

Lumine’s heart was racing. “W-what?”

He smiled. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie,” she said.

“Okay.” He leaned in close. “You’re very beautiful.”

Then, Childe kissed her.

If it was possible, Lumine would’ve thought the top of her head blew off, leaving the rest of her body to boil alive in the heat she was feeling.

“Ah-uh-uhm,” she tried to speak; her tongue refused to listen.

He pulled away and chuckled. “Stay close by until I’m done with my meeting, okay?”

“Ah-uh-wha-what?” she stuttered.

Childe casually sauntered away. “Be back soon!”

Lumine stood in place for what seemed like an eternity, trying to keep her brain from melting away.

Did that really just happen?!

“Ch-Childe,” she said, but her voice was barely above a whisper. He was already a dot in the distance. “Childe!” she shouted. But he couldn’t hear her.

Paimon stirred awake. “Huuuuh? What happened?” she slurred, lazily floating up from the ground.

“I—,” Lumine said, “I don’t know.”

It was a surprise. Definitely a huge surprise.

But...she didn’t hate it.

In fact, against everything she had thought of him at this point, she enjoyed it.

She brushed her fingers over her lips. Then, she took the glaze lily from her hair, looking at it over and over again.

Childe...Is he an enemy? A friend? Or is he something more?

[Fic Masterlist]

[things-we-cant-say]

pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

[t-lostinworlds]

Dear Santa (Tom Holland)

a/n: this made me want a baby, preferably with tom but anyway. here’s my gift to you lot for the holidays! i hope you enjoy this one <3

pairing: dad!tom holland x female!reader trope/genre: Dad AU; slight angst; fluff summary: It’s a yearly thing for Tom and your daughter to write letters to Santa together on what they want for Christmas. Only this time around, it was over video call given that Tom was miles away from his two—three, including Tessa—beautiful girls. Santa did get the letters though... warnings: tom being such a dad (which is a warning in its own right), a dash of ‘missing you’ angst, it’s so fluffy that i died a couple times, bad pun/dad joke & a lil steamy in the end. word count: 7.2k+

masterlist in bio & pinned post

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"Dada!"

"Hello, angel," Tom gushed, heart warming up ten times over as he looked right at his four-year-old daughter's beautiful and chubby face. Her little hand waved enthusiastically while she sat on the tall chair in the dining area, her beam turning brighter at the sight of him. "How was your day?" He slid himself in the little nook he had in his trailer, placing his laptop on the table in front of him and getting himself comfy as he listened to her tiny voice babble. Some of her words were mispronounced, sentences cut short and randomly stringed together but Tom listened to every single one of it with much interest.

"What?! She didn't," he gasped exaggeratedly when she talked about Tessa sitting on her while they played in the living room, the pup barking soon after to make her presence known.

"She did! 'N Tessa so heavy dada."

The young lad heard your sweet giggle next and his whole body softened even more at the sound. He leaned back on the seat with the brightest smile he could ever wear. Although Tom could feel the sting in his chest gradually grow when you came into view.

The curve on your lips was tender and sweet, one that he could never get enough of even after years of seeing it, one that he's so dearly missed seeing in person. Tom felt his heart ache the more he stared at his two precious girls, both looking at him with smiles. But still, he can see it, the tiny specks of sadness in your eyes all because he was thousands of miles away, five days before Christmas.

He would absolutely do anything to be in the same room with you two right now. Hell, even to just be in the same country but alas, work and duties. Tom has been away for roughly five months and the last time he's seen you two in the flesh was two months ago when you came over and visited him on set. Now, it was the holidays and he's still not home. And Tom can attest that it's one of, if not the worst feeling in the world.

It wasn't in his plan to be so far away at this time but his schedule is ever changing which led him to still be at work nearing Christmas. He'd done the best he could to try and make it before or on the 25th but it wasn't set on stone. No real and solid plans until the actual day which was very gut wrenching.

It was the first Christmas he's away, after all.

But at this moment, Tom has been lucky enough to have a few hours off this afternoon given that night shoots were the agenda of the day. And even though he should be using this time to get a few hours of sleep in before a very long night, of course, Tom took this opportunity to video call over instead. He just got done eating lunch but it was already dinnertime back in London, and he so badly needs to see your beautiful faces before you went to bed.

"Thalia, sweetie, go wash your hands for a sec, yeah?" you hummed, running your fingers gently through her curly hair, one she got from him. Although her eyes, her smile and overall beauty? It was all you, Tom thinks so at least. Well, except for that cute nose that she got from him as well. The more she grows, the more it shows how she's the perfect mixture of her parents, and it honestly makes his heart soar. Thalia is the reminder of the love you and Tom have, one that's pure and strong that blossomed into this joyful, precious and beautiful little girl.

She looked up at you with a soft pout, pointing towards the screen as she shook her head. "Bu—"

"I'll be right here pumpkin, don't worry. Listen to mummy," Tom chuckled softly. Upon seeing the apologetic smile you flashed him, he knew that you saw the flicker of sadness that crossed his features. You always do see right through him. He shot you a small reassuring nod, a silent way to tell you it was okay.

"No go anywhere," Thalia warned, narrowing her eyes at him.

Tom felt his heart break even more but he flashed her a wide grin, crossing his finger over his heart and said, "I promise."

Thalia reached a hand out for you to take, a sweet smile on your face as you curled your fingers around her tiny ones. "There you go," you said, helping her off the seat.

"Thank you," she hummed, tugging your hand to urge you to lean down. A lovely giggle vibrated in your chest once Thalia placed a wholesome smack on your lips, the sight making Tom's heart skip a couple beats.

"You're welcome, angel," you said. Thalia disappeared from the screen, Tom assuming she had swiftly made her way over her little stairs that he had built for her a couple months back, just so she could reach the sink. "Careful," you called out, the soft grunts of the little girl echoing in the kitchen along with Tessa pitter-patters on the tiles. Tom knew she was in a rush up the stairs, eager to get her hands clean so she can go back to talking to him. He doesn't know if the thought made his heart soar or break a couple more pieces.

You turned back to look at him through the screen, a shy smile erupting on your features the moment you saw him already gawking at you with the proudest grin on his lips. He just can't help but admire the goddess before him. You just look so stunning and gorgeous in a simple knitted sweater, you, his wife.

That alone was honestly enough to make Tom combust with the love that fills him up ten times over. But then, by the heavens above, you're such an amazing mother. He genuinely doesn't know what to do with himself. You make him feel like he's on top of the world. Both you and Thalia make him feel so, so happy.

"Damn, how did I get so lucky," he gushed, gaze locked with yours with adoration coating his orbs. "I mean, look at you, the fact that I get to call you my wife? Whew." He shook his head in pure disbelief, blowing out his cheeks in the process. You let out a bashful laugh with a roll of your eyes, his smile only growing at your reaction. It makes Tom's heart melt whenever you get all timid when he showers you with compliments and affections, all the more reason for him to keep doing it as often as he can.

"All clean!" Thalia exclaimed as she climbed back onto her seat with your guidance, showing her palms to him with a bright smile.

"That's my girl," Tom said proudly, shooting her a wink with a grin to match.

You moved the laptop farther so Tom could see both of you clearly. Disappearing for a moment, Tom heard you speaking to Tessa, handing the doggo her dinner he presumed. You came back into view soon after with two plates on hand, placing one in front of Thalia—to which she adorably clapped with a soft 'thank you'—and setting yours right beside hers. Tom simply watched with a smug smile as you handed the young girl her utensils before you sat yourself down. Your little girl waited for you to get situated without touching her food. Then you and Thalia locked eyes, lifting your spoons and taking a bite at the same time with giggles coming out of you both.

The amount of times Tom could literally die and resurrect at the adorable scene before him was immeasurable. He was unable to wipe the love-struck grin painted on his lips, cheeks hurting but totally worth it.

"Oh, that was a very big bite," he commented when Thalia took another spoonful. Tom adjusted the sleeves of his flannel shirt, pulling it up his forearms for him to easily prop his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his palm as he admired his two precious girls.

"Hmm, so good!" Thalia nodded enthusiastically, eyes all squinted with her cheeks puffed out as she chewed her food as thoroughly and as carefully as she could. Although a little bit of it still managed to stick to her chin, Thalia quick to clean it up with the napkin you placed right beside her plate.

God she's growing up fast.

Tom felt his eyes sting at the thought of his little girl growing to be not-so-little anymore. Not long ago he was the one who'd wipe the little crumbs and mess off her face, but now she can do it all on her own. He could honestly cry.

"You know what, I'm so jealous of you young lady," he huffed, leaning back with his arms crossed and a deep crease on the middle of his brows. "It's unfair how you get to eat mummy's cooking every day."

"I sent Sam some of my recipes, didn't I?" you asked, amusement laced in your tone as you furrowed your brows at him.

"Yeah, but it still isn't the same when it's you cooking because then I can give you hugs and kisses during the process." Tom pouted. "That's one of my favourite parts aside from eating."

"Ew, dada, cheesy."

Tom's mouth fell agape as his gaze snapped towards Thalia and then at you—to which you only shrugged with a giggle—and back to his daughter. "Okay, who taught you that?" he asked with narrowed eyes.

"Uncle Haz!" Thalia exclaimed proudly, nodding her head as she continued eating.

Tom shook his head disappointedly as he locked eyes with you. "I've been telling you, love, Harrison is a bad influence on her," he grumbled, jokingly of course.

"Oh hush, it's not like what she said was a lie," you pointed out with a knowing smile.

"Hey!" He pouted.

Thalia giggled at his reaction. "Dada cheesy," she repeated.

Tom sighed, shaking his head but the smile never did leave his lips. It never could whenever his eyes are on you two. He was going to confront Harrison about that though; makes Tom wonder what other things that blonde lad has taught his daughter.

"How was your morning, bub?" you asked with a soft smile.

Tom relaxed in his seat as he proceeded to recount the events that happened earlier all while you both continued to eat your dinner.

"—and then we got to visit the children's hospital and gave out presents, which was nice."

"They met Spider-Man?" Thalia queried.

Tom gave her a nod with a wide smile on his face. "Yes, they did."

It's still surreal to him how he's managed to now have the fifth movie of the franchise. It was the last installment which was somewhat bittersweet on its own right. Nonetheless, Tom was very thankful with the run of his career as the famous web-slinger. Lucky and blessed would be huge understatements to describe his life. Even more so now that he's got a wonderful, beautiful daughter and an amazing, gorgeous wife.

"Dada a real life superhero."

Yup, he definitely couldn't get even luckier than this.

Tom let out a coo, bottom lip jutted out as he looked at you and then at Thalia with a little gloss in his eyes. "I could literally burst into tears right now. You own my heart, darling," he gushed. Eyes glancing back at you, he sighed, "You both do."

The warmth and love you held in your eyes glowed some more, his smile widening at the beautiful sight as he tilted his head at you sweetly. Turning back to his daughter, Thalia flashed him a wide smile, setting her spoon and fork down with a satisfied hum.

"Finish already?" Tom asked.

She nodded enthusiastically. "It's letter time!"

Tom can't help but chuckle. It's been a yearly thing for him and her to write their letters to Santa every 20th, always the same schedule which was after dinner. Thalia has grown accustomed to the tradition real quick despite only doing it for only a few years. Well, she is just four.

"Alright, alright, why don't you help mummy clean up while I'll go get my pen and special paper," he said with a wriggle of his brows. The young girl clapped cheerfully as she grabbed for your hand before hopping off her seat, gently taking her plate from the table and carrying it to the sink.

"She's getting so big, love," Tom breathed out, looking at you with his bottom lip jutted out.

"I know," you sighed, eyes on Thalia before you tilted your head at him with that gorgeous smile of yours, nothing but adoration coating your orbs.

Smile turning into a mischievous smirk, he wriggled his brows at you. "Should we make another one?" he purred, voice low and guttural but quiet.

"Thomas!" you hissed as softly as you could. You looked at your little girl briefly and Tom literally saw the relief that washed over your face before you turned back to him with a death glare. "She hasn't asked about that yet and I swear if you're the reason why she starts now—"

"Tessa, not the spoon!"

Your head whipped towards the direction of that little voice before you turned back to Tom with narrowed eyes. "You behave yourself, Mr. Holland," you warned, raising a brow at him and then walking off screen.

"Love you, Mrs. Holland!" he called out with a chuckle.

***

"Dada don't peek!" Thalia gasped once she saw Tom craning his neck teasingly. She glared at him as she covered her paper with her little hand, which was honestly the cutest thing ever.

"I'm not, I'm not," he chuckled, going back to writing his letter.

He wasn't really asking for presents. Well, realistically, he doesn't need to. Of course he could pretend and not write anything at all but he feels a little bad lying to his daughter. So, he resulted to jotting down the things he already has rather than asking for more. All of his yearly letters had consisted of nothing but gratefulness as he lists down what he's been blessed with and was so thankful for, you and Thalia always at the top of that list.

The party has been moved to Thalia's room now, the little girl fresh out her bath and was wrapped in her PJs. The laptop was right on the little desk she had in the corner where she practices her writing, reading and even drawings.

It was where they always write the letters. The previous years, Tom would sit right beside her in one of the tiny chairs as he helps her write. But now, instead of side by side, they were looking at each other through the screen, which honestly makes Tom's heart ache. To add to that, she was writing on her own too, a bittersweet feeling coursing through his bones. Because as much as how he feels so proud to see his little girl know—slowly but surely—how to write, there's always going to be a part of him that clings to the memory of her little hand encased in his much larger ones as he helps her navigate the pencil around the paper, letter by letter.

God, she needs to slow down on growing up. Tom can't honestly handle it.

"You peeked again!" she squealed when she saw Tom lift his brows with widened eyes as he tried to get a look at her paper. Thalia quickly glanced over her shoulder, pointing at the screen with a pout, so obviously telling on him which made him let out a hearty laugh. You came into view right behind the little girl, toys on hand which Tom knows you got off from the floor. There's always so many of them littered around her room. Well, he admits, he does spoil his little girl, sometimes.

"Dada, no peeking," you scolded playfully, raising a knowing brow at him, Tom's heart melting at the seams at your use of the nickname.

"I didn't see anything, I promise." He threw both his hands up in surrender, scrunching his nose at Thalia who only stuck her tongue out at him in response. You disappeared from shot again, continuing what you were doing, Tom assumed. He turned back to his daughter. "Now, write your name at the bottom so Santa knows who it's from. And then put it in the envelope and give it to mummy," he instructed.

Thalia scribbled a few more lines before taking the paper in hand, folding it up as best as she could—all wonky and uneven which is so darn cute—and then carefully sliding it in the envelope provided for her. She then lifted it up to you once you made your way back over to her desk. "Done!" she exclaimed proudly.

"Great job, angel," Tom commended. "Now, time to brush your teeth."

Thalia nodded before turning behind her to catch your eyes. "Mama, help please." She pointed towards the laptop as a way for her to say that she wants to bring it with her, never wasting any time to talk or just see him. Again, Tom doesn't know if his heart could melt or break at the thought.

You nodded with a hum just as she rushed towards the bathroom across the hall, you right on her tail as you carried the computer in your arms.

"Ugh, my heart literally soars every time I hear her call you mama," Tom groaned as he shook his head. "Never gets old."

"Stop being so adorable when I can't kiss you right now," you muttered.

Tom smirked, shooting you a teasing wink to which you only responded with a playful roll of your eyes before you placed the laptop by the sink. Thalia was back on screen again, already brushing her teeth like a pro. Tom knows he's being a broken record but she genuinely needs to stop growing up too fast.

It's not good for his dad heart.

"Smile, sweetheart," Tom hummed once she saw her finish, the little girl showing her rows of teeth at him proudly. "Very pretty," he cooed.

"Thank you," she said with a cute giggle. The little girl bounded back to her room and climbed on the bed, you following suit with the laptop in hand. You gently placed it at the foot and on an angle so Tom could see you both clearly as you tucked her in. "Tessa!" Thalia squealed, tiny fits of giggles escaping her lips soon after as the pup circled around to find a comfy spot before settling right next to her.

The lovely doggo has become Thalia's best friend, personal cuddle buddy, and bodyguard. Wherever she goes, Tessa is always in tow. They always, always sleep beside each other every night and it's honestly the most wholesome thing in the world.

The room became dim when you turned off the main light, leaving the lamp on as Thalia wiggled a few more times before finally settling down. "Story, dada?" she yawned.

Tom nodded with a smile, leaning over the table as he switched up his voice a little. "In a kingdom far, far away..." he started, Tessa resting her head on the little girl's tummy as if she wants to have a piece of the story as well. His smile widened when you sat beside your daughter, your fingers caressing through her hair lovingly as you listened.

Tom can't help but pout at you, missing the way those same fingers feel against his scalp as you run them through his hair. You shook your head with a soft laugh, raising your brow to urge him to keep going with the story.

Gasps and giggles escaped out of Thalia as she listened to him all throughout his impromptu fantasy world. She made sure to throw in her two cents, turning the story to how whatever way she sees fit.

"...and then the princess climbed on her dragon with her new found freedom as she flew into the sunset. The end," Tom finished, his little girl letting out another yawn with her eyes now barely open. He can't stop his heart from melting at the sight. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you," he cooed.

"G'night dada. Love you too," she hummed, eyes fluttering close as she threw her arm over Tessa.

"I'll see you soon my princesses," Tom whispered, eyes flickering over at his pup and daughter with a bittersweet smile.

Tom caught sight of the stars that circled around the room when you switched off the lamp and turned her night light on. You flashed him a smile as you took the laptop in your hand and ventured out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

***

"How about you, my love, what's in your letter for Santa?" Tom asked as you settled yourself down on your shared bed, back against the headboard with the computer on your lap. The screen really doesn't do you much justice on how gorgeous you look, especially now when you got changed and opted on wearing his hoodie.

"I just want you home," you whispered, hand going over your mouth in realization that you said it out loud. Tom saw the guilt spread across your features once you locked eyes with him.

"I'm trying, darling," Tom sighed, hand running through his hair dejectedly, ache coursing through his chest at the sound of longing in your voice.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you rushed.

"No, nothing to apologise for, love," he said, flashing you a sad yet reassuring smile. "It kills me too, being so far away from you both. But I'll see what I can do okay?"

You shook your head, brows furrowed in worry. "You've already done all that you could, Tom."

"But I feel like I should be doing more," he admitted, frown settling on his lips as he held your gaze. Oh how he wished he could take the sadness away from your orbs, to feel your warmth as he pulls you into his embrace. He wants nothing more than to cover you with kisses, to whisper sweet nothings onto your skin to replace your frown with those giggles he adores. "I miss you so much," Tom sighed.

"I miss you too—"

"Tom—oh, hey, Y/N."

You smiled softly. "Hi, Harry."

"I hate to be the one to say this but they need you on set now," Harry said in dismay, shooting you and Tom a guilty smile.

Tom looked at the clock, shock befalling him on how fast time had passed. It didn't even feel like he's been sat in this little nook for five hours, didn't feel like he's talked to you enough at all. He thought he had a few hours more, not a couple minutes left.

His eyes landed back on you briefly and you only flashed him a small smile. Tom turned to his brother with a nod. "Yeah, okay, I'll be right behind you," he said.

"Tell Thalia her favourite uncle said hi," Harry said to you with a proud smile.

Tom shook his head at his brother's bold claim given that Thalia hasn't said that at all. She hasn't shown to have favourites, nor does she have anyone who she likes to spend time with, more. But being competitive lads, it was natural for his brothers—which includes Harrison, Tuwaine and Jacob—to compete for the title of her favourite uncle. She's just spoiled to bits really.

You let out a laugh, though it was a faint one, smile not as wide as you nodded at the twin. "Will do, Harry."

Harry flashed you one last smile before he turned to give Tom a curt nod, hand coming up to give his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tom smiled at him gratefully, patting his hand before the younger lad made his way out of the trailer. Turning back to you, Tom felt his heart drop to his stomach.

"Darling, please don't cry," he whispered, hand instinctively reaching for you, a harsh foot stepping on his heart when his fingertips only got as far as touching the screen.

"I'm not," you muttered, blowing out your cheeks as you leaned to the side, so obviously trying to wipe your tears off screen. Tom still saw it though, and even if he didn't, he knows you like that back of his hand. The smallest change in your voice could tell him all.

Tom did his best to keep himself together, flashing you a small, comforting smile once you met his gaze again. "I'll see you soon alright?" he said. "I love you so much, darling."

You nodded, frown settling in your lips as you sighed, "I love you too, Tom, oh so much."

"Goodnight, my love." Tom tilted his head at you with a knowing grin. "Dream of me," he teased, earning a small giggle from you.

"Always."

***

"Is dada not coming home, mama?"

It was the 24th of December and your heart could do nothing but ache at your daughter's question. You tried your best to not let your frown be so prominent while you tucked her to bed.

"We don't know yet, lovie," you sighed, hand caressing her cheek tenderly. "But maybe dada will be here the moment you wake up tomorrow," you added, shooting her a knowing wink despite the sharp stab in your heart given that it was still uncertain.

Tom hasn't called at all the whole day. He only sent you a text earlier this morning explaining that he was going to be busy, hence why he won't be able to call. Strings of apologies buzzed through your phone even despite telling him over and over that it was okay. You know that guilt is eating him up whole right now, know for a fact that he's beating himself up black and blue by still not being home on Christmas Eve.

Thalia flashed you her sweet smile and a nod in response, not pressing anymore about her father's absence.

She's really smart for her age, so you wouldn't doubt it at all that she understands why Tom is away right now. You did tell her that her dad wasn't going to be joining dinner this time and she simply said, ''S okay. Dada is a superhero and superheroes are very busy.' And it honestly took everything in you to not start bawling at the dinner table.

"Story time, mama," Thalia hummed, taking your hand in hers as she tugged you closer.

"Okay, scoot a little you two," you said, both Tessa and Thalia making room for you to sit on the edge of the bed. "Once upon a time..."

***

With Thalia fast asleep, you treaded towards the door, leaving it slightly open—for Tessa in case she has businesses to attend to in the middle of the night—behind you and made your downstairs, turning on the little lights on the steps in the process. You went inside the living room, walking over to the wooden stool by the Christmas tree to take the plate of cookies and the glass of milk. You emptied the glass as you made your way to the kitchen, placing the cookies back in the jar and then putting the dirty dishes in the sink.

Venturing into the guest bedroom, you took out the bag filled with the few gifts you had wrapped up the day before. It wasn't a lot, just a couple of toys for both Tessa and Thalia. The little girl really hasn't asked much this year aside from a few toys she saw on TV or at the mall. And what she had on her letter...it was a bit difficult to get.

You slipped back inside the living room, placing the gifts under the tree along with the few sweets inside the stockings. Once you've turned off the electric fireplace, you went over to the tree lights next. But before you could even get to the plug, you suddenly heard the creaking sound of the front door opening and then closing, making you shoot straight up and freeze in your spot. Your heart pounded against your chest, hands trembling at the thought of a break in. Your mind ran a hundred miles per hour as you thought about what to do, ready to sprint upstairs to get to your daughter. You felt your breath hitch when you saw a figure emerged in the entryway.

But then you saw that it was him.

"Tom?" you gasped, eyes wide and glossed up, mouth opening in closing in pure shock as you stared right at your husband.

His face was now in full view as he pulled the hood of his hoodie down. A loving smile played on his lips, one you missed seeing in person. Your heart stuttered as you held each other's eyes, so many emotions swimming in those brown orbs but the love and satisfaction outshined everything else.

"Hi, darling," he sighed in pure content, that voice you love so dearly clear and real, not muffled by the poor quality of the laptop speakers. "Do I not get a welcome home hug?" he teased when you stayed in your spot, unmoving and simply gawking at him. Tom opened his arms wide for you to easily jump into.

Once you've got a hold of reality, you just ran to him full sprint, a sob escaping your lips as he caught you right in his embrace. Tom wrapped his arms around you with a shaky breath, squeezing you oh so tightly as he rocked you side to side. You breathed him in, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck, hands fisting the material of his hoodie from behind as your body raked with soft sobs.

Tom pulled away briefly to cup your face in both hands, thumb wiping away the tears that sat on your skin. He smiled at you all adoringly, eyes turning glossy before he swiftly pressed his lips right on yours. You let out a whine as you melted into the kiss, fingers taking home in the mesh of his curls on the back of his head as you held onto him, to physically feel him, just to make sure that he was actually real.

"I fucking missed you so much," Tom groaned against your lips, arms back around your waist to pull you inhumanely closer. His warmth was quick to coat you both inside and out, the feeling of his lips on yours familiar but never fails makes your head spin. His embrace felt like home and oh how much you've missed it.

You pulled away to give into your lungs' needs, but only just a little, both of you in dire need to keep each other as close as possible. The tips of your noses brushed against each other as your chests heaved, though the smile on your lips never did waver.

You stared into his brown orbs, your brows furrowed lightly in question. "But how—"

"Once they gave me the go I took the first flight home," he said, pressing his forehead against yours as he stared right into your eyes with utmost love and the widest grin on his lips to match. You placed your hand on his cheek, Tom turning his head to press his lips against your palm briefly before he leaned into your touch.

"I can't believe you're actually here," you whispered.

"I couldn't miss spending Christmas with my two—" Tom stopped himself when he heard the pitter-patter of paws down the stairs. You turned to see Tessa bounding towards your direction, jumping right at Tom as he crouched down to greet her with a chuckle, "Right, three favourite girls."

Then a small voice spoke, "Dada?"

Tom's head shot up, his handsome face glowing even more, remaining crouched on the floor as he spread his arms. "There's my sweet pumpkin."

Thalia ran to him as fast as her little legs would let her. Laughs came out of the young girl, the sweet sound echoing around the room as Tom lifted her up and spun her around.

"Yay! Santa got my letter!" she cheered, both hands up in the air.

Tom settled her in his strong arms with a soft furrow of his brows. He looked at you confused.

Later, you mouthed.

Tom nodded as he turned back to his little girl. "I missed you so much, my princess," he said, littering her face with loud kisses to which Thalia squealed and giggled in response.

You wrapped your arms around yourself with a satisfied hum and a wide smile on your face. To see Tom be such an amazing and loving father never fails to make your heart grow twice its size, never fails to make you fall even deeper for your man, your husband.

The lovely sight of him and Thalia made your body tingle in more ways than one, a thought crossing your mind, a feeling in your bones telling you that it was the perfect time. It made you smile wider, heat dusting your cheeks as you tilted your head at your husband and daughter.

Tom caught you staring, a proud smirk erupting on those lips of his as he shot you wink. You can't help but roll your eyes at his smugness.

Of course he knows the effects he has on you, knows how him being such a dad makes your heart flutter. But also, how it makes your body fill up with heat and want that you'd have to resist the urge to pounce on him. It probably was obvious in the way you look at him, easily sees it in your eyes because he knows you, he is your husband after all.

But then again, maybe he knows because he's just the same, if not much more intense. The amount of times he's gushed over and over how he wants to put another baby in you whenever he sees you taking care of Thalia goes to prove that point.

It's an equal reaction really, both of you just as whipped for each other.

"Come here, darling." He beckoned you over with a sweet smile, resting Thalia on his hip as he held a hand out for you to which you gladly took. He pulled you closer, giving you a soft peck on the lips before snaking an arm around your waist. You wrapped your arm around the small of his back, chin on his shoulder as you looked at him with utmost love. He shifted his eyes from you and Thalia as he sighed, "It feels so good to be home."

It was such a picture perfect moment, a pure family in love. There was nothing but wide smiles on all your faces, happy to finally be in each other's embrace after so long. Plus, Tessa sat right in front looking at her humans lovingly with her tail wagging enthusiastically.

Thalia's head fell onto her father's shoulder as she let out a loud yawn, tiny fists rubbing over her eyes before she wrapped her arms around his neck. Your heart melted at the adorably sight, a soft coo escaping your lips as you reached over to brush the stray her that landed on her face.

Tom chuckled, turning slightly to give his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "Let's get you back to bed yeah?"

***

Tom came inside your shared bedroom just as you slipped the envelope inside your drawer. Closing it, you leaned back against the headboard with a smile, eyes landing back on your man who stood still in his place.

Tom had his back pressed against the closed door, staring right at you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"You going to join me in bed or are you just going to ogle?" you teased, raising your brow at him with a tilt of your head.

Tom chuckled, pulling himself off the door and sauntering over to you all while slowly stripping off his clothing, starting with his hoodie to his shirt and leaving them across the floor.

He's lucky you miss him too much to call him out on that, willing to give him a pass since he did just got off from a flight. He'll probably pick them up tomorrow though. If not then, he'll definitely hear from you.

By the time he's reached your side, he was left in nothing but his boxer shorts.

"She asleep?" you asked, looking up at your husband lovingly as he towered over you, standing on your side of the bed.

"Mm-hmm." He bit his lip with a smirk as he leaned down, hands on either side of your thighs that were hidden under the covers. "I've got such a beautiful wife huh," he muttered, brushing the tip of his nose against yours all adoringly before he captured your lips in his with a satisfied hum.

You giggled between the kiss, fingers lost in his hair as you pulled him closer, lips moving in sync like they've never been apart for so long. Tom nibbled at your bottom lip, a low groan erupting in his chest when you let him in, your tongues meeting as his hand landed on your thigh with a hot squeeze. You basked in his taste for a few moments more, letting him explore your mouth just to feel him closer, especially after months of being deprived from each other. Your hands slid down to rest on his broad shoulders, giving them a squeeze before you pulled away.

"Before you get too excited, I suggest you read Thalia's letter first," you said with a soft giggle.

Tom let out a hearty laugh, nodding in agreement and giving you once last peck before he jumped over you as threw himself on his side of the bed. The whole mattress bounced due to his weight, earning a pointed eye roll from you. Always a dork no matter what.

He slipped himself inside the covers, settling back against the headboard just as you rummaged through your drawer. You handed him an already opened envelope before you laid your head on his shoulder, slinging an arm over his naked torso as you snuggled to his side. Tom took out the piece of paper, a smile erupting on his lips once he unfolded it, eyes catching sight of his daughter's messy handwriting.

His strong arm wrapping around your shoulder, Tom pulled you closer, giving you a tender squeeze before he read the letter out loud:

Dear Santa,

Please bring dada home.

Me, mama and Tessa miss him so much and I don't want mama to be sad anymore.

Thank you, Santa.

Thalia

Tom tore his eyes off the paper to look at you with a pout, brown orbs glossing up as he placed the paper back in its envelope and set it aside. Snaking both his arms around your form, he gave you a loving squeeze. "Such a sweetheart with a big heart, just like her mother," he hummed, leaning down to give your forehead a sweet kiss.

"I read that at the mall when I did last minute shopping. I had to rush to the bathroom to get myself together. I got so stressed because I don't know if you were coming home or not. Which would then go down to explaining to her that Santa didn't get her letter and I really didn't want to break her heart like that," you elaborated, Tom's fingers caressing your arm comfortingly. "And then I was walking past this comic book store and saw this life size cardboard cutout of you as Spider-Man with the mask off. I was really contemplating if I should just get that instead," you laughed.

"You should've," Tom chuckled.

"And creep her out? No." You shook your head with a giggle. You pulled away from him slightly, his hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back once you did so. With your palm flat against his toned chest, you gawked at his handsome face with nothing but love. "Yet here you are, always here to save the day," you hummed.

Tom smiled widely at you, hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek fondly before he pulled you down for a passion-filled kiss.

"Now," he murmured against your lips, hand sneaking down and under the covers, fingers hot against your bare thigh. He gave it a pointed squeeze before he pulled away slightly. "What do you want, my gorgeous wife?" he purred, a certain glow in those brown orbs as his smirk grew.

With a quick peck on his lips, you release yourself from his grasp for a second so you can reach inside your drawer. You gave him another envelope, a sealed one this time, Tom taking it with a confused look on his face. Lying down on your side, you propped your head up with your hand as you waited for him to read it.

Brows furrowed, Tom opened it and pulled out the letter, pupils moving slowly as he scanned the words. You can't help but giggle once you saw the shift of emotions on his face, his eyebrows rising as he stared at your handwriting wide-eyed.

Dear my lovely Tom,

Thalia is due a younger sibling, don't you think?

Love, Y/N ;)

Never have you ever seen Tom move so fast in your life.

Your sweet laugh echoed around the room as he immediately pulled the covers off your body so he could get himself on top of you without any hindrance. He hovered above you with a wide smirk on his lips, strong hands gripping your thighs as he threw them around his waist, body slotted in between your legs with ease.

He didn't waste any more time as he swiftly dipped his head to capture your lips with utmost love but also, need. The kiss was hot, rushed, a little messy and filled with absolute fervour.

Arms taking home around his shoulder, you pulled him closer into you, your heels digging into the small of his back, both of you groaning at the familiar closeness, bodies fitting perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

Tom slipped his tongue in your mouth with ease when rutted his hip once which earned a gasp from you. He did it again with a low growl, to make you feel just how badly he needs you. And oh you can feel it alright, feel it really hard. There was the obvious desperation coursing in you both; it's been months after all.

Pulling away for a moment, Tom wriggled his brows at you with lust-filled eyes and a love-struck smirk. Your chest was heaving as you stared right into those brown orbs, ones that turned even darker as his hands took hold of the hem of your—his—shirt. He was ready to pull it off of you but not before saying,

"I guess Santa isn't the only one emptying his sack this Christmas."

"Thomas!"

-:-:-:-:-

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Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 19

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The atmosphere changed in a snap. Everyone had felt it, except Peter.

Peter's early arrival had you all floored, especially you and Bucky. Oblivious to Peter, you were both dumbfounded, like deer caught in headlights. But this wasn't the best time to process what was going to happen next. You had to think off your feet. Yoy had to show Peter that there was no more than surprise in your faces.

Peter was finally here. That's what matters right now.

The instrumentals of Hungry Eyes kept playing in the background. Bucky's microphone created a feedback sound once he let it rest on his sides, making you all wince. Peter ditched his bags (which magically doubled), and strode towards you, engulfing you in a hug. Although he reeked of damp, mossy grass, and wood, you hugged him back.

"I got in early! How great is that?" He greeted you with enthusiasm laced in his voice. "Oh god, I've missed you, y/n!" He said into your ear.

The rest of the group, laid back on their comfortable seats, watched the whole thing unfold in front of their very eyes. You’d definitely pay to see Nat's look on her face right now.

"Yeah, you did!" you patted his back before pulling away, giving him the best smile you could do. "I've missed you, too. Welcome back, Parker. It's been quite a damn week without you."

Bucky was solid as a rock before Peter moved towards his spot (Bucky gave me a quick glance and a wry smile which you then returned; afterwards, you bit your lip looking at the exchange between the two) and hugged him tight as they exchanged their formalities. "It's nice to have you back, Peter."

"It is nice to be back." Peter replied, pulling away. "Whew, that one week went by real slow, huh? Feels like ages!"

"Yeah." Bucky glanced at you one more time. This time, it was longer. "No kidding."

"Alright everyone, it's nice to see you all together."

The group mumbled agreeably.

"Sam," Peter acknowledged, doing his signature finger gun pointed towards him, "I don't even know why you're here but I will as soon as I take a quick shower right upstairs and get these bags sorted out."

"You might want to take a long one there, buddy." Sam breathed out, fanning the air. "You smell like a caveman."

"Sam." You scolded, shaking your head.

"Yes, babydoll?" He jeered, which you and Bucky didn't like.

Most especially Bucky.

And Peter as well.

You gave Sam a look, hidden from Peter's view, of course, careful not to raise any kind of suspicion. But boy, was Sam giving you and Bucky a hard time. The group knew why he called you that, of course. But not Peter.

"Babydoll?" Peter repeated, a confused expression crossing his face as he turned towards you. "Why is he calling you that ridiculous nickname?"

Peter had always hated when men called you, as he put it, "ridiculous" nickname. You knew if he could punch them all, he would but because of Steve's number one rule (no fighting in the bar), he couldn't. It all started ever since you worked in the bar. You weren’t getting much attention when you were a waitress but you guess, when men see a woman behind the counter making their drinks, apparently, they think you’re easy, and naive, and would fall for their "charm" by calling you nicknames. One minute you’re "darling", the next you’re "doll" or "baby" or, the worst of them all, "mon chéri."

God, did men really think women would be turned on by a French nickname with a horrendous French accent? Perhaps, the idiots do.

You suddenly wondered if Peter felt the same.

"He's just kidding." You mumbled, taking him away from the group. "You know how Sam is."

You started to lead him further towards the door where his bags were.

"I know how he is, y/n." He grew more agitated now, triggered by what Sam had called you. "I've known him longer than you. Okay, what on earth is going on here?" Peter turned around once more, facing them all. His hands were all over the place. Exaggerated gestures that furthered his confused state. "What happened in that one week I was gone? Jeez."

"Hey." You made Peter focus his attention back towards you by grabbing him by the shoulders. By this time, the instrumentals on the karaoke machine were gone. "We get that you're really confused right now and you're tired so why don't you go and take a shower. The night is still young, Parker. I promise we'll tell you everything the second you come back here."

Of course, not everything.

The dead air whistled around, which you hated. He glanced at the group, who was waiting for a response. Their eyes were all on you and Peter. He finally let out a sigh, his shoulders slumped. "Yeah, you're right. Sorry, it's just been kind of a long drive."

With that, Peter scurried towards the apartment to set down his bags and take a shower. He left a trace of awkwardness in the air once he left.

"Is it just me," Nat started as you walked towards the booth, "or did he grow taller? Did he go to, like, a magic place or something?" Everyone looked at her with knitted brows. "Jesus, I'm just lightening up the mood." She said, hands raised up.

You strode towards Sam, a rush of heat climbing its way towards your face. "Seriously? You had to call me that?"

Sam chuckled nervously, eyes flickering between you and his best friend. "I-it was just a joke! I didn't know he'd take it seriously. And helloooo," he said in a singsong voice, dragging the o, "I'm drunk."

"Being drunk isn't an excuse. It should never be." Bucky said, leaning against the booth. He stood with much authority which you found enticing. But you digressed. "You still shouldn't have said it."

"And besides," you chimed in, "Parker hates it when people give me nicknames."

"Alright. I am sorry." He said. His eyes examined you and Bucky. "But how do you think he's going to react when he finds out his favorite person in the world is calling his best friend babydoll in bed?"

You were dumbstruck. Like it was some kind of question in a trivia game you didn't know the answer to. You couldn't think straight hearing the fries grinding in Nat's teeth, probably enjoying the drama unfolding in front of her eyes, Steve's fingers tapping on the wooden table and Nick's fast breathing.

You took a deep breath, and tried hard to ignore all these annoying sounds.

Sam was right. If Peter's reaction to the nickname was already bad, what more if he knew about the truth between you and Bucky? How could he possibly react to it?

"Look." You said, approaching Bucky, and grabbing his pinky with yours. For comfort. "We're still not ready to tell him but we will."

"Yes, soon." Bucky agreed.

"We're just finding the right time."

The truth was, you weren't any close to finding the "the right time." You had been racking our brains since last night on when to tell him. After setting on the when, then you’d move to the next phase of the plan which was how. Now that Peter had come back, you knew you needed to think and act fast before he found out about you and Bucky from other people.

"In the meantime," you said, grabbing your phone and finding Marco's name on my contact list, "let's just enjoy this party as it is. Steve threw this party for a reason and we are going to enjoy it. With or without Peter. No blabbing or hinting — yes I'm talking about you, Sam — about me and Bucky. No nicknames, no references. Nothing."

"You're asking all of us to keep your dirty little secret?" Nick asked. "While we're all drunk?"

"You and Sam are." Bucky chimed in, grabbing their beer bottles. "Steve and Nat aren't so I'm keeping a close eye on you two." He turned towards you, faces close in proximity, and gave you the bottles to stow away. "No more drinks for those two idiots."

Youbnodded and took the beers away from Sam and Nick which earned yoy a couple glares. Nick pouted afterwards like a baby, eyeing the beer bottles in your hand. "No, Nick. I'm cutting you off."

"Take his, not mine!" Nick whined, tilting his head towards Sam. "I didn't blab. This idiot did."

"I don't like your tone, man." Sam argued, mimicking Nick's state.

"One more drink and you'll blab. And please stop acting like kids." you sighed, walking towards the counter, stowing the beer bottles in their cases. Ypunlooked on your phone once again, called Marco and ordered three large pizza boxes — pepperoni, meat, and cheese pizza. All of Peter's favorites.

By the time the phone call ended, Bucky approached you with soft, doe-like eyes. The group resumed singing, Sam and Nick once again hogging the machine, clearly not taking your advice. Sam kept yelling at him to "cut the check!"

"How're you feeling, doll?" He asked, going under the pass through.

"Well, it's now a surprise party." You heaved a sigh, turning around to find a drink with much more of a kick to get you through the night. Your eyes found an unopened bottle of vodka in one of the cabinets. You didn't hesitate to grab it, along with a dry vermouth and some olives.

Bucky's eyes were on you the whole time, watching you making yourself a mean martini. Ypundidn't care if Steve saw you just now. Right now, you needed this. Just one glass to calm your nerves.

Younstirred the liquid with the olives in a stick before downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"As hot as that was," Bucky said, referring to how you drank the martini and how younmade it, "that's your last drink for the night. I'm not letting you get drunk for the wrong reasons. Once was enough."

You set down the glass on the counter with a thud. You lifted your hazel eyes to meet his blue ones. "You're paying for this, by the way."

He chuckled. "I know. I'll take care of it."

You looked cautiously at the door, dreading Peter. Knowing he won't probably be here for another hour, you approached Bucky, discreetly grabbing his hand. It took you a moment to put your thoughts into words.

"James, if we tell Peter, we need to be... sure. Of this. Of us." youbwatched your fingers brush against him on the wooden table.

"We've talked about this, y/n. I am." He reassured, walking closer this time. "It's a big risk but it's one I'm willing to take."

The idea of you jumping into this together, jumping into it with caution gave you a big relief. But right now, it wasn't just an idea anymore. It was real.

It was real in the way he snaked his arm around your waist, in the way he pulled you into a soft, deep kiss, and in the way his lips lingered on your lips. You pulled away, your bodies still close. At that moment, it was just the two of you. Never mind the loud karaoke machine, or the faint noises of the traffic outside, or Sam's out of tune rhythm.

It was just the two of you. In your own little afterglow.

"You're a big risk I'm willing to take." He whispered the words so slow that they swirled around you, pulling you even closer.

"And you're mine too." you smiled.

Several minutes have passed since your little conversation. Nat had teased you and Bucky of being whipped for each other. Of course Sam joined, and then Nick who chanted a little song he made, which, for the life of you, you couldn't even remember. The rest didn’t understand a word he was singing other than the words "Bucky" and "y/n."

Steve, on the other hand, had been silently drinking his beer and eating the whole time. You once gave him an are-you-okay look and he just nodded in response, giving you that classic tight-lipped smile of his.

Bucky was seated beside you, your thighs grazing each other in the little booth. Even accidental touches brought you comfort.

And isn't that just the best damn thing?

Peter had come in after the little performance Nick just gave, thankful that he didn't walk right in the middle of it. Behind him was a staff of Marco's who delivered the pizza boxes. Everyone hurrah'd. You grabbed your wallet from your back pocket but Steve stopped you, handing some bills to the guy.

"Steve, I could've gotten it." You said after the pizza guy left.

He shook his head, setting down his beer on the table. "It's your party, kid. I'm not letting you pay a single cent."

Nat scoffed. "She made herself a drink just earlier. You should charge her for that."

"Woah, y/n drank? That's new." Peter chimed in, squeezing himself in the booth, sitting at the edge. Between you were Sam and Nick. "What else did I miss?"

And so, you told him everything — well, not everything. Only from when Steve fired you (him lying about how why he even came up with it which Peter bought), to Bucky convincing you to take the project collaboration with Sam, to finally agreeing to it, to the whole meeting that happened just three days prior, and to how you’ll proceed from there. Youndidn't know if Nat and Steve wanted to reveal their little thing to Peter so you kept your mouth shut. Not wanting to do to them what you didn't want done to you and Bucky.

"My god," Peter commented, "that really was a long week! I'm quite disappointed I missed all of that!"

Oh, Parker. If only you knew the whole truth.

In return, he gave the gist of the whole corporate retreat. He finally told you where he and the rest of his team went but it was some place you couldn't even pronounce. Some cabin by the lake far away from Manhattan. He didn't bore you too much with the details. All you knew was that they went fishing, hiking and camping in the wild while team building. Along with the stories were photos of him and the place they were staying.

You frowned thinking it would've been fun if he were with friends. Like you guys.

The whole time, Bucky held your hand under the table or rubbed your thighs discreetly so as to not draw much attention.

Nat was an exception. That redhead saw everything, smirking once in a while. You gave her a discreet look from time to time.

Peter congratulated you, toasting his pizza with yours. Thankfully, he didn't need to drink tonight ("No drinks for me tonight or for the next few days").

"Wow, you really came out there like a new man!" you chuckled. He laughed right back but for just a mere moment. His expression changed while taking a bite of his pizza. You began to be nervous as to why this kept happening. Younneeded to go to the toilet.

Getting out of the booth was a chore. Nat, Steve and Bucky had to get up before you could even stand up. Youndidn't get why you didn't just stick the little tables together to make a long one.

You were in the toilet for a little while, leaking everything that youndrank tonight. Your head felt a bit dizzy but younmanaged to stand up afterwards. The voices of your friends were inaudible against the wooden walls. Except Nick's booming laugh.

Once you opened the door, you were greeted by Steve who was standing still, waiting for the toilet to become unoccupied.

"Sorry." you apologized. "Was I too long?"

"No." He replied shortly. You tried to walk past him but he caught your arm. Younlooked at his hand, confused. "Are you sure about this Bucky guy?"

"What?"

"This whole thing with Bucky. You can't actually be serious about this."

Taken aback, you wiggled out of his grasp, successfully yanking your arm out. "And who are you to tell me that?"

"You just met this guy." He answered. You still felt his grip on your arm by his stern tone.

"Weren't you the one who kicked me out of this very bar just for me to go to the roof to meet with this guy that I just met?"

"I thought you would've ended whatever thing you had going with him."

You scoffed. "You're not my father, Steve. I know you have this weird father or brother thing you have with me but I'm an adult. I can take care of my damn self."

"What about that night you were insanely drunk?"

"That... that was a one-time thing. A mistake is what it is!" younhissed. "Everyone makes mistakes."

"Y/n, listen — "

"No." you cut him off. "You listen. Just because you and Nat haven't figured out whatever the hell is going on with you two, doesn't mean you can shit on my relationship. Before you comment on my dating life, I suggest you fix yours first. I'm happy. Bucky's happy. We're both happy. Please mind your own business."

Before you could even go back to the group, Steve called your name. Youngroaned, turning around. "What now?"

He sighed. "You're really going at great lengths for Bucky. Keeping secrets from Parker and all that. Is it really worth it?"

You stood there. Silent. Trying to find your voice.

"Well, I'm about to find out." You replied, turning around, hopefully for the last time. "Later, Steve."

You went back to the group and continued to chat with them. Steve got back after a few moments. His streak of silence was broken when Nat revealed something none of you had ever known before.

"Did you guys know that Steve was a journalist before he became a bar owner?" Nat said, looking at Steve.

You raised your eyebrows, the pizza caught in mid-air. A curiosity sparke, pleased with the new information you had just acquired.

"Steve Rogers? A journalist?" Peter scoffed unbelievably, leaning back against the seat. "No way. No, I don't buy it."

"Me neither." Nick butted in. "He doesn't look like the type. Nuh-uh."

"It's true!" Nat argued. "Tell them, Steve. Come on!"

Steve forced a chuckle, avoiding all your waiting gazes. "Yeah, it's true. I was. I used to work for the New York magazine."

"Why'd you stop?" Bucky's voice surprised you. It was the first time you’ve actually heard him talk to Steve first, except that time when you first introduced them.

Steve's eyes met Bucky's. A strange atmosphere picked up. You couldn't quite point out why. "I was sticking my nose up where it didn't belong." He replied. "I got fired because of that. Boss said I was too... intuitive."

"Isn't that what journalists should be exactly?" You asked.

"Too much of something is bad too, I guess." He shrugged, retreating back his eyes.

"Huh." You said, observing Steve. Eyes stolid. Bearing no emotions at all. "Well, look who's good at keeping secrets. Steve Rogers."

He hummed. "We all got secrets."

And then Nick revealed a ridiculous secret ("I hate the bank! I don't have a bank account!") that lightened up the mood.

The night went on after that, Steve avoiding any questions you had about this past life of his. Nick had the most ridiculous questions followed by Peter. But the night had to end as well. Thankfully, it ended sober.

Leaving Steve, Nat and Nick behind, Bucky, you and Peter headed up the stairs, the elevator ride filled with deafening silence. One you very much loathed. Between Bucky and you was Peter. It was killing you not to touch Bucky.

Bucky left, merely dropping you off in your apartment. He told you he'd come by tomorrow morning to get his stuff that was still in Peter's room.

It killed you not being able to kiss Bucky good night, watching his back getting smaller and disappearing behind the elevator. Peter closed the door after that.

"Boy, I'm tired." You yawned, stretching your arms up. "I'm gonna go ahead. It's nice to have you back, Parker."

Before you could even go to your room and have a nice sleep, Peter called for your name. You lazily replied.

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you do it, y/n?"

Confused, you turned around, meeting his gaze. "What?"

"The project with Sam." He said, walking towards you. His footsteps were heavy in each step. As heavy as his voice was becoming. "Bucky convinced you. Why'd you say yes?"

Trepidation filled your body. A kind of weakness you loathed. But you tried hard to stand on your ground, masking your anxiousness.

The noises outside the apartment, out on the streets mirrored the voices in your head.

"It was a big business opportunity." you found your voice. "A collaboration. And I didn't have much choice knowing that I was going to get fired."

But it seemed like Peter chose not to listen. "For years, I have been trying to get you to work with me. Years, y/n. Years." He sighed in exasperation. His eyes were bloodshot, tears badly wanting to escape. "Why couldn't you have said yes to me?"

His last words were so strong and sharp like a knife piercing right through your flesh, leaving you to bleed out in the open. You opened your mouth to speak, to say something, to say that you were sorry but unfortunately, no words came out. Peter breathed, releasing his strong gaze. "Good night, y/n."

He left you standing there in the middle of the room, realizing now that it would be harder to tell him about you and Bucky. Once you finally had the energy to carry your weight towards your room, you treaded towards it slowly and opened the door, only to be met by a soft knock on your window.

You nearly jumped at the sight outside the window.

"Jesus, Bucky!" you hissed, immediately closing the door behind. You opened the window and let him inside, closing it afterwards. "How did you get there?"

He was panting, trying to catch his breath. "Fire escape."

"It's freezing cold outside." you scolded, grabbing him your blanket and wrapping it around his huge figure.

"I know." he replied. "Maybe you can warm me up." A cheeky smile started to play on his lips as he approached you.

You giggled. "Bucky, not now."

"I'm sorry, doll. I just couldn't leave without a good night kiss."

My heart melted at his words. You placed your hand on his jaw and pecked his lips. He pulled you in closer. You smiled in the kiss.

"Neither can I."

You kissed a little bit more, a bit more passion this time, the window framing you perfectly in the nighttime.

You pulled away, feeling a bit guilty about Peter in his room.

"We need to talk, James." You said, breaking what was a lovely atmosphere. You’ve already had two confrontations today. What was another one?

You sat on the bed and patted the space beside you. Bucky frowned, sitting beside you. "What's wrong?"

"Peter's kind of upset with me accepting your offer to work with Sam." you went straight to the point. "He's been trying to get me to work with him in his company he works at ever since he got the job but I've always declined. And now, I think he's mad or even jealous that I said yes to you. God, you should've seen him, Buck. His eyes were so wide, and red. I've never seen him like that. It didn't look like Peter at all."

It took him quite a while before he spoke. "Do you regret taking up the offer?"

"What, heavens no!" You answered. "Bucky, this has been one of the best things that has ever happened to me. You're one of them too, of course." You said, seeing his doe-like eyes once more. "I'm just getting a bit more scared now. What if there is no right time for us to tell him? What then?"

He clasped your hands with his large ones, making you stop your trembling. You didn't even notice your hands shaking until now. "There will be a right time, y/n. Right now, we just have to keep this our little secret for a while until we can tell him."

"What happens when he doesn't approve of this?" You started to ramble on once more. "Of us? What happens then?"

"Sweetheart, you don't know what's going to happen but we'll make it work."

You didn't respond. You just kept staring at your joined hands.

"I promise." He added.

You finally nodded, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding. "Okay."

"Now, if it's okay with you." He moved a little bit closer, kissing your cheek. "I can spend the night here." Another on the other. "With you." then on your lips.

"Peter's in the other room." you whispered in the kiss, amazed at how the mood changed so quickly.

"That's why I'm gonna need you to be quiet, babydoll."

[kingofkingdom-archive]

1979

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (Read part 2 HERE)

Rating: T (Teen) - part 2 will be E

Summary: The year is 1979. You need a ride to anywhere that’s far away from where you are. When a handsome stranger in a rustbucket pickup gives you that ride, neither of you could predict any of the events that follow.

Warnings: Smoking (and lots of it), mild violence (a punch is thrown), brief harassment of reader, food, mention of a gun (one is encountered but not used), mention of homelessness, brief mention/description of war (Vietnam), child abandonment, mention of abusive/dangerous father figure, passing mention of serial killers, vague description of non-specific events leading up to reader resorting to hitchhiking, very meta mention of a certain beloved space opera

Word count: 5.7k

A/N: Whew! This one has been in the shop for a LONG while. Originally I meant for this to be a single work, but I’ve hit a bit of a slump with the last bit. I decided to post this to see how y’all feel about it! The second part will be much longer :) Also: I know there has been some discourse recently about Din’s characterization in certain fics, so I hope this does him justice for you! I’m always open to comments, and like I said I’m very interested in hearing what you think! As per usual, no use of Y/N and please heed the tags/warnings.

8:47

You lean against the streetlight, glancing down at your watch and then back up to the motel across the street. You told yourself you'd wait until 8:30 and then you'd go back and reserve a room for another night. As you watch the second hand wind its way around the small, plain face of your 2-dollar timepiece, you've convinced yourself that maybe staying out until 9 is the ticket.

Your ticket, out of this shithole town.

The summer air is hot and thick around you. It's especially unbearable both between your legs and at the band of your bra, the elastic stretched around your middle doing its best to make you feel as sweaty and uncomfortable as possible. At least you're wearing your cutoffs, giving your legs the chance to breathe. You've also got a loose tank on, which flutters in the sticky wind as cars pass you by.

8:51

Your thumb has been stuck out for passerby to see for the past three days. No one has picked you up. You suppose you should be more wary of taking lifts from complete strangers with all the murder and kidnapping that's been in the news recently, but you're more than a little headstrong with a dash of stupid to go along. That's what your mother always told you, anyway.

Some Cadillac speeds past you, blaring what you think is a Donna Summer song, and you watch as the music and taillights fade into the night.

You shouldn't be surprised, you figure, as the minutes continue to tick on by. There's a gas shortage, you reason with yourself as you bend down to pick up your bag, thumb still stuck out, elbow resting on your waist. People don't do this anymore. Afraid of getting picked up by a pervert or a killer. Afraid of picking one up, and then a streetlight just like the one you're under is the last thing they see.

8:58

You sigh, ready to head in for the night. Marvin, dude who sits at the motel's front desk, is sure to give you shit about it again.

You're preparing to cross the street when you hear the low growl of a pickup truck approach. Not looking to get creamed by some fuckin' rusted-out GMC, you step back onto the curb where you'd been posted.

Except the truck slows up, and the window rolls down as it crawls to a stop in front of you.

Your heart races. Finally.

You walk up to the passenger side window and look in, expecting some fat old putz looking to get some tail in exchange for a ride.

That's not what you see.

"Need a lift, young lady?"

The truck's driver is older than you, sure, but you were wrong about pretty much everything else. He's got short dark hair and a 'stache, with some stubble across his chin. He's wearing a leather jacket over a plain gray tee, with a pair of sunglasses hung on the collar. One hand is on the wheel while the other is laid across the back of the bench seat, a cigarette perched in between his first two fingers.

You lean forward on your tiptoes as best you can, forearms resting on the door's open window. Pretending to survey the interior, you look around and take the opportunity to check the man out. God, you think. I wouldn't mind giving him whatever he wants in exchange for this ride. Maybe another kinda ride. Ha!

"As it turns out, I do. You offering?"

You rest your chin on your arms and give him the sweetest smile you can muster. The man eyes you up and takes a drag from his cigarette. You watch with rapt attention as he inhales deeply and then exhales the smoke out through his nose.

This guy's got you all hot and bothered and you haven't even gotten in the truck.

He gestures with his hand. "Come on, kid. I gotta make the state line by midnight."

You definitely like the sound of that. Eager and supremely stoked to finally have a way out of this dump, you pull on the handle, jump in, and swing the door closed behind you. Your backpack finds its place between your feet, and the stranger starts driving again as you pull your seatbelt across your shoulders.

"Where're you headed?" the man asks, glancing over to you and then looking back at the road. The asphalt seems to stretch into infinity, flanked by trees and fields and the occasional watering hole.

"Away from here," you chuckle as you fidget with your fingers. Black nail polish decorates your trimmed nails. It's chipped and uneven in some spots; you never were great at painting your nails, especially your right hand.

"I got that," the man drawls, voice deep and smooth like honey. "Any particular destination in mind?"

You shrug. To be honest, you hadn't exactly thought that far ahead. Your first and only priority was a way out, and anything after that was a problem to be handled when it came to it.

"Nope. Just as far as you're willing to take me."

The guy nods and takes a drag. The smell of cigarettes never bothered you like it does some other people; you find it relaxing, calming, especially when it's fresh and all-consuming like it is in this guy's truck. The vehicle itself is old, maybe 10 or 15 years, and a glance into the bed behind you tells you he's traveling with a couple boxes and nothing more.

It's certainly not state-of-the-art, but that's all the better for staying under the radar.

The silence looms over you like a cloud. The stranger seems content to just listen to the engine and the tires on the road, but you're prone to fill silences unprompted.

"What's your name?" you ask, and look over at him. He glances at you and raises a brow.

He clears his throat, eyes moving back to the road. "You can call me Mando."

"Mando?" you retort before you can stop yourself. "What kinda bogus name is that? Like, what... you got a thing for mandolins or some shit?"

The man huffs. "It is what is, kid. Get used to it."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "Alright, alright... Mando."

He doesn't try to continue the conversation, so you don't either. Minutes pass, and then hours, and you find yourself drifting off not too long after the clock reads 10:00. You shake yourself awake, wanting to stave off sleep until he pulls over to rest for the night.

But the engine is like a lullaby, the soft swaying of the truck a gentle rocking motion, and your eyes fall closed despite your best efforts.

When you wake up again, the truck is no longer moving, and the clock reads 12:30. 

You must have been woken up by Mando putting the truck into park. The darkness outside does not give any clues as to where you are, but as your eyes adjust you can just make out some picnic tables, garbage cans, and signs.

A rest area. Makes sense.

Mando is fumbling with something beside you. It's a map, you realize when you look over.

"Where are we?" you ask with a yawn.

"Just over the border. Made it a bit later than I would've liked, but that's not a big deal. You can sleep here in the cab. I'll take the bed, since I sleep there anyway."

You nod, though you find it odd the way he's... not asking you for anything. He hasn't mentioned payment, monetary or otherwise. You watch as he folds the map back up, and catch his gaze as he stashes it in the glove box.

"I gotta repay you somehow, mister," you mutter. "For how nice you're bein' to me. 'Specially since I made fun of your name and all."

At your words, Mando gives you a stern look from under one of his furrowed brows. "No, you don't. Blanket's under the seat. Get some rest."

He turns away, grabs the keys, and is out the door before you can reply.

It's just so unusual for a guy to pick up a girl like you and refuse payment, much less not ask for or take it outright. It's a shame, really. Any other guy, you'd give him what he wanted sure, but with less than enthusiastic participation. The one man to whom you'd gladly deliver anything he asked... and he seems not to want it.

You suppose you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Better a prude than a murderer, that's for sure.

As you reach under the seat for the blanket, your hand brushes against some sort of canvas bag, long and zippered. You lean over to look in at it upside-down, hair brushing against the dusty floor mats.

It's a rifle bag. You reach in to feel at where the barrel would be, and sure enough, there's something distinctly rifle-shaped inside.

Huh. It's not a surprise that a guy like him's traveling armed, but it makes you wonder. A hunter, maybe? Probably. There's a lot of those around.

You spot the blanket and pull it out. It's gray, scratchy wool, but as you pull it over yourself, you find it keeps the nighttime chill away quite well.

-

You wake up to Mando swatting at your feet.

"Time to get up, sunshine. Gotta get going."

His deep voice pierces through the fog of sleep still hanging thick over your mind. You groan and push yourself up onto your elbows, drawing your feet in to give him space to slide into the drivers' seat. 

It's still dark out. You see a hint of light on the horizon, the beginning of the sunrise peeking over hills and fields.

"What time is it?" you ask, rubbing at your eyes. You're a chronic over-sleeper, so seeing the sunrise is a rarity. It seems Mando has no such problem.

"A bit after six. We'll stop at a diner for something to eat in about an hour. You're welcome to go back to sleep until then." He turns the key in the ignition and the truck rumbles to life, a blast of lukewarm air hitting you in the face. 

"No, no. I'm up," you assure him, shrugging the blanket off your shoulders. As you fold it, you look over at the man beside you. He's wearing the same faded jeans and leather jacket as yesterday, but the shirt underneath has changed. The sunglasses are still hung on the collar, but now it's some faded band tee from like 8 years ago. 

You set the folded-up blanket on the seat between you and him, watching as he puts the truck into drive and starts off. Before you know it, you're watching the early-morning world pass by outside your window. You kick off your sandals and tuck your feet up under yourself, sitting crosslegged on the seat.

About 15 minutes later, you've grown tired of watching farmhouses and cornfields fly by in the dark.

"So, uh..." you start, not really knowing where you intend to finish your sentence, "you like music?"

Stupid. That was stupid.

Mando chuckles. "Yeah."

"Yeah?" you reply, hopeful that he might have more to say.

"Yes. I do like music."

You roll your eyes. "What kind of music? Jazz? Opera? Country-western? Who's your favorite artist? Got any favorite records?"

He glances over at you, a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. "You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Well, I figure if I'm gonna be traveling with you for a good while, I might as well know a bit about you. And vice versa."

Mando just hums. 

"I'll tell you mine, then," you inform him, grinning widely now. "My favorite record right now is Parallel Lines. By Blondie, you know? I really like them. This time last year I woulda told you my favorite album was something by Wire or the Sex Pistols - I was real into punk, if you know anything about it. Now I'm more into poppy stuff. I just think it's fun, to be honest."

You continue to ramble to Mando well into the drive. The sky grows lighter and the road grows more crowded, but he does not stop you. At the end of a tangent about Bowie, you turn to look at him, and he's sitting there like you haven't just talked his ear off for the past twenty minutes.

"Sorry. I jus-"

"Don't apologize. It's... I don't mind," he interrupts, not taking his eyes off the road.

You stretch your legs out in front of you, looking at the sandal-shaped marks on the tops of your feet. "Don't you have any particular songs you like?"

Mando's quiet for a minute. You wait, looking up out the window. The sky is a pale pink and blue, with a hint of orange off to the east. A field of cows comes up on your left - your eyes track them as they pass by, wondering what it's like to pet one.

You bet they're soft. Soft and cuddly and so dumb they're cute.

"You have to promise not to laugh." 

The words come as a surprise. You look over to Mando, eyes wide and interested.

"Never. Favorite music is sacred."

He sighs. His grip tightens on the wheel, like sharing even a small part of himself causes him distress.

"Tapestry. Carole King," he says, though the words are quiet and guarded.

That wasn't the answer you were expecting. "Really?" you ask, smiling brightly.

He just nods, though he spares a glance towards you, like he's gauging your reaction. You lean back against the seat, turning towards him more fully.

"I wouldn't have guessed. Color me surprised, Mando. You have good taste." It's true. The album's a classic, though more so with girls your age, not guys who pick up hitchhikers and keep rifles in their trucks. "What do you like about it?"

Mando shifts, bringing his left arm up to rest on the door, elbow propped so his head can rest on his hand. "Not sure. She writes a good song, that's all I know."

You're not satisfied with that answer. You'll get to know Mando, even if it's like pulling teeth. "Bull-shit. Pink Floyd writes a good song. Paul Simon writes a good song. Why her? Why that record? It came out like ten years ago, there's gotta be a reason - a real reason - you still like it."

The drone of the engine and the road is like a soundtrack in itself to the silences that loom heavy before every sentence he speaks. You wonder when the last time he really got to talk to someone was - talk like this, not small conversation with the waiter or grocer. 

You're no psychiatrist, but it doesn't take a genius to spot someone who's been alone for a while.

Mando hums. "I guess I relate to her songs... in a way I didn't expect to when I first heard her music."

You smile at that, pleased as punch that he trusts you with that information. It's like cupping cool water in your hands on a hot summer's day, fleeting and precious. "What's your favorite song on the record?"

He turns his gaze to your for a moment, dark brown eyes staring at your dirty feet and day-old shirt and messy hair. You're not sure what exactly he sees as he takes you in, but you sit there and allow it regardless.

Mando looks back to the road, watching the small town approaching slowly on the horizon. "I Feel the Earth Move."

You nod. "A classic."

He just hums in response, and you expect the truck to fill with silence once again.

Except it doesn't.

Mando reaches out and presses the button to turn on the radio. Blondie's Heart of Glass flows out through the speakers - and you laugh.

-

The glowing neon sign advertising Lindy's Diner, with her promise of pancakes and eggs and bacon and coffee, gets you more excited than you care to admit. Mando pulls into a parking spot along the street, and you're out the door before the wheels have stopped turning.

Admittedly, you do also have to pee. 

You rush into the diner to take care of your business, also using the provided sinks to brush your teeth and the mirror to comb through your hair with your fingers. 

It's not much, but you do feel better. Hopefully tonight you can stay in a motel at least, maybe take a shower.

You exit the restroom and look around the diner. Mando's sitting in a booth, smoking a cigarette and looking out the window. You head over, tossing your backpack into your side first and sliding in after it.

"I'll be right back," he says, and leaves. You watch him walk over to the men's restroom, the door swinging shut behind him.

Whatever. Kinda rude. Not like you care, anyway.

You lean back in the booth and take a menu from the stand at the end of the table. The classic breakfast platter is looking particularly tempting, with its hash browns and bacon and eggs-however-you-like. You're contemplating scrambled versus over-easy when you hear a pair of footsteps walk up to your table.

Two strange men stand over you, looking at you like they know exactly how homeless you really are.

"You here alone, baby?" the shorter one asks, putting a grimy hand on the back of your booth, right behind your head. You open your mouth to say no, in fact, I am not, but the other guy speaks for you.

"It looks like you are, honey. Just our luck, a girl like you all on her -"

"Is there a problem?"

Mando's deep voice cuts through whatever it was the creep was planning to say. The low timbre of his voice, normally soft and kind, is uniquely dark - almost menacing - when it hides a threat. 

You slowly cross your legs, hoping no one notices the movement under the table.

The two guys turn, and behind them you see Mando, looking extremely pissed. He puts a hand on the back of the taller man's neck, cig still perched between his fingers, and yanks him away from where he'd been standing in front of Mando's side of the booth.

"Jesus, man! We didn't know you were -"

Mando puts his hands on his hips, eyeing them up like a lion might size up its prey. "What? You didn't know what?"

The guy gulps. "Uh..."

"Come on," Mando taunts, something dark glinting in his eyes. "Don't get nervous on me, now."

"We didn't know you were with her, man. Sorry."

Mando shakes his head. "No. Don't say that to me. Say it to her." He nods hid head towards you, subtly positioning his body in between yours and theirs.

You're frozen in your seat, torn between fear and arousal.

The tall guy glances at you. "Sorry," he mutters. The shorter one's still looking at you funny, though.

Your companion jerks his head towards the door. "It's best you both leave, now." 

You realize the diner's gone quiet, customers and employees alike watching the exchange with bated breath. The taller guy glances around and turns, heading straight for the door. His buddy hesitates, gaze shifting from Mando to you and back again. Eventually he also turns to leave, following the other one out.

Mando slides into his seat, though he won't quite meet your gaze when you look at him. Noise picks up in the diner once again and you let out a shaky breath.

You're about to say something when the two guys pass by the window. The shorter one peers in, works his jaw, and spits on the ground on the other side of the window from you. You see him mouth the word 'bitch!'.

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Mando to try and joke about it, attempting to brush off the uncomfortable encounter. But he's not there, and you realize belatedly that he's now storming outside.

Mouth agape, you watch as Mando stalks up to the short guy. Jesus, you think, if looks could kill... 

The creep whirls around, throwing a fist at Mando before he even gets a good look at him. Mando dodges it easily with a step back, looking simultaneously murderous and annoyed. He winds his arm back and sends his fist flying at the creep's face. The guy stumbles and falls, clutching at what is now a bloody and broken nose, landing on his back on the sidewalk. His friend has long run off.

Mando puts a boot on the guy's sternum, pressing down so he can't get up no matter how much he struggles.

You see him lean down, elbow on his knee, and say something. The guy's eyes widen and he nods frantically. Mando then removes his foot and, without sparing the guy a second glance, re-enters the diner.

He slides into the booth again and takes the menu from you. There's blood on the knuckles of his right hand, but he makes no move to wipe it off. He flips through the pages as if nothing happened. You stare at him.

"You didn't have to do that," you mutter, voice soft and wavering. 

Without looking from the menu, he responds. "Yes, I did."

"But, you coulda just... just let him go..."

"I could have," he replies, and turns a page. "But I didn't."

"But -"

For the first time since you both entered the diner, he looks up at you, and you're taken aback the intensity of his eyes. "He deserved worse, kid. Far worse."

He sounds so sure of it that you can't bring yourself to say otherwise. You sigh and clasp your hands together on the table, unsure of where to go from here. 

Just then, the waitress comes up to your table, notepad and pen in hand.

"You two know what ya want?" she asks as Mando puts the menu back in its place.

He gestures for you to go first.

"Uh, yeah. I'll have the classic platter with scrambled eggs and white toast. And black coffee, please."

The woman nods, writing your order on her pad. "And you, sir?"

"I'll have the blueberry flapjacks, please. And coffee, black, for me as well."

The waitress nods and turns away. As you watch her push through the silver kitchen door, you realize that maybe you should be grateful for the way things went. That they didn't get uglier.

That Mando was there at all.

"Thank you," you say softly, doing your best to convey your sincerity to the man sitting across from you.

He simply nods, observing you with a look you can't quite place.

-

After breakfast, the two of you set off down the highway again. Fleetwood Mac flows out through the speakers and you don't expect to stop until after noon, when Mando will have to refuel (both the truck and your stomachs). Until then you kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the dash, window cracked about an inch so the summer wind can flow through your hair.

Despite the rocky start to the morning, the hours pass by easily, weightlessly. Sometimes you talk with Mando, other times you simply sit and watch the world pass by. You don't think you've ever seen this much land in one go, and it thrills you. The idea that there's so much more. 

The topics vary from your time in school to movies to the truck. You're surprised to find out that Mando's never seen Star Wars, a fact nearly unheard of to you. You promise yourself that you'll make him watch it sometime, somehow.

Lunch passes without incident; you insist on paying for your ham and cheese sandwich, because Mando had covered breakfast before you could protest. It hits the spot, along with your ice-cold Coke from the little market's freezer. There's a line to get gas, as there is everywhere, but luckily it isn't too long, since you're in the middle of nowhere. Mando won't be able to fill the truck up again for a few days, meaning you'll have to stop for the night earlier tonight than you did yesterday.

You do find something interesting at the market and you decide to shell out the money for it because it intrigues you. A new style of Kodamatic camera, complete with a pack of instant film - 12 potential photos.

In your mind you see pictures of mountains, and the truck, and Mando, and you stuff the camera in your bag before your mind can wander any further down that road.

You have to admit - traveling with someone who you know can protect you if the need arises is comforting in a way that almost makes you nervous. You keep telling yourself not to get used to it, that this is just a temporary situation for as long as he sees fit to keep you around. After he decides he's had enough, he'll leave you, and you'll be on your own again. You can't get too dependent on him.

Nighttime arrives much too quickly. The sun has just dipped below the horizon when you drive into another small town, not much more than a stoplight and a few bars. You get lucky, though, because the unmistakable neon of a motel glows just ahead.

"Thank god," you groan as Mando pulls into the parking lot. "I need a shower so goddamned bad."

Mando chuckles. His arm rests with his hand out the window, flicking the ash at the end of his cigarette out onto the pavement. The orange glow at the end of it brightens as he takes a drag, and you tear your eyes away from his lips before he can catch you staring.

That's another problem. He's every inch as attractive to you now as he was before, except now you know he's nice. The mustache and the dark curls and the broad expanse of his chest are all only made hotter by the knowledge that he likes Carole King and Elton John (he knew all the words to Tiny Dancer) and blueberry pancakes.

Plus there was that whole punching a guy to defend your honor business.

The guy at the motel's front desk reminds you of Marvin. Greasy blond hair and acne on a kid not much younger than you. You give him a disgusted look when he eyes you up, but he cuts it out when Mando walks in behind you. It gives you a small sense of satisfaction to see him so meek before your companion.

"We need a double for the night," Mando drawls, counting cash on the counter, cig perched between his lips. The sign advertised a night's stay for $22. You'd tried to pay Mando your share, but he'd refused your money.

The kid shakes his head. "Only got singles available."

Mando raises his brows. "Really."

The kid, whose name is Matt according to his name tag, nods. It takes Mando a moment to think on it, and then he looks to you.

You shrug. "I'm fine with it if you are, Mando."

He nods once and pays for the room. 12. You take the key and head over to get a head start on your shower while Mando parks the truck and gets his stuff.

The hot water feels divine. Even the towel feels great, because as threadbare and shitty as it is, it's clean and warm from sitting under the vent. You finish up in the bathroom and emerge in a pair of old track shorts and a loose-fitting tee.

Mando's sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. His jacket's draped across the table and he's kicked off his boots, so he sits with the remote in hand, barefoot. It's the most casual you've seen him thus far, and it makes your heart race.

"Shower's all yours," you tell him.

Mando looks at you from the corner of his eye. It's hard to tell what he's thinking at any given moment, so you fidget with the hem of your shirt as he looks at you. 

A thought blooms unbidden in your chest. I wish I could kiss him.

You blink, taken aback at the sudden, intense nature of your desire to feel his lips against your own. Not knowing what else to do, you cross your arms and turn to the TV. Bonanza is on.

"Seen this episode before?" you ask. It's an old show, but you still like it.

Mando nods, humming. "Used to watch these every week, right when they came out. Only the first few seasons, though."

"Why'd you stop?"

He turns to sit on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the ground. He gives you a small smile, though his eyes hide something pained.

"I got drafted."

Oh. "Oh. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine," he says and gets up, brushing past you to enter the bathroom. The door clicks shut behind him.

You walk over to sit on the other side of the bed from where he was. Drafted. Jesus. You feel bad for bringing it up, even if it was unintentional. The TV plays though you aren't watching, mind wandering to thoughts of Mando in Vietnam. You picture him in the jungle or in a helicopter, the deafening noise of artillery and gunfire filling the air around him.

Maybe that's where he got the nickname. It certainly explains the rifle.

You reach over for the remote and shut off the TV. The clock on the wall reads about 8:00, still early for you, but you tuck yourself under the sheets and blanket regardless. You face the door, away from where Mando will sleep.

Just as you're drifting off, the lamp on the bedside table clicks off. You feel the weight of Mando crawling in beside you, and he too curls up on his side, back turned.

You fall asleep hoping he's not too upset with you.

The next thing you know, you're awake, though the world is still dark outside. Behind you, Mando snores softly, warm breath fanning out across your neck.

Wait.

You blink a few times and realize the two of you must have shifted in the night. Mando's body is pressed right against yours, chest to your back, arm draped over your middle and hand tucked under your chin. Your legs are intertwined and against the back of your thigh you feel -

You feel him.

Sleep is a powerful drug, however, and the realization is not enough to make you move. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you think maybe this isn't so bad. Your tired brain convinces you to revel in it, to enjoy this position you've found yourself in. Before you can second guess that reasoning, you drift off.

And then you're awake again. 

This time it's thanks to a rush of cold wind in your face. You reach back to feel for Mando, but the warm pillow tells you he's not there. You open your eyes to see him standing in the doorway, looking down at something. It's still dark out, but the lights of the motel parking lot put him in silhouette before you.

"What is it?" You lean up on your elbow to get a better look. The nighttime air is cool on your face, smelling faintly of gasoline and rain.

He bends down and picks up whatever it is that's in front of him. You watch as he turns to look left, then right, seemingly in search of something. He turns around and you see what he's holding.

It's a baby's carrycot.

You immediately sit up, heart racing. "Is it -?" you whisper.

Mando nods, closing the door behind him. You get out of bed and rush over to stand next to him, peering into the carrier.

Sure enough, there's a baby asleep inside. It looks to be a boy, about a year old. You bring a hand up to your mouth.

"Why - who would - what?"

Mando shakes his head, staring at the little guy. "I don't know. I heard a knock at the door and there he was - no sign of anyone else."

"We should - what do we do, Mando?"

He brings the carrier over to rest on the table beside his jacket. The boy is out cold - his little hands grip the blue knitted blanket and his mouth is just barely open. He's got dark hair, wispy and soft atop his head. As you observe the sleeping child, you notice the corner of a small piece of paper tucked in between the blanket and the cradle. You reach out and grasp it between your thumb and forefinger, unfolding it carefully.

"What does it say?" Mando whispers. Your voices are low so as to not disturb the child.

"Grogu. Please take him far from here," you read, and feel your blood run cold as the note goes on. "Not safe in this area. His father is dangerous."

It's scrawled in blue ink on half a sheet of lined notebook paper, the fringe from being torn still attached. Your hands shake as it hits you - there's some mother out there so scared for her son that she left him in the care of strangers. That there's a man out there who legitimately threatens this boy's life.

Tears form at the corners of your eyes, rage and sadness simmering in your chest.

"We have to, Mando." Your words are shaky but certain. The man beside you rests a hand on the carrycot, still looking at the sleeping child within.

You turn your eyes to him. He nods, solemn.

"Let's let him rest. We'll leave in the morning, get as far west as we can. Might even be able to make Texas if we leave early enough. We can figure it out from there."

His other hand brushes against your back, and then he's drawing you into his chest. The embrace is soft, unhurried, and you lean your head against his shoulder, hands tucked against his chest. Letting your eyes slip closed, you think back on the previous day, how you never could have predicted this turn of events. How you've never felt so uncertain of things, even when you'd lost everything.

Together you return to bed, but neither of you gets much sleep.

[drivingsideways]

Hey talk to me about your top three favourite kdrama women. What makes them special? What's a fic you would like to write about any one of them?

Mystery anon! :D What a lovely ask. 

I’m going to cheat a bit and divide my answer into characters I loved a lot, but do not want to write fic about, because I think the canon gives me what I need; and characters that I loved a lot but NEED TO BE RESCUED ZOMG.  (My fic writing impulses are 50% spite and 50% fix-it )

Caveat being that I’ve still watched only maybe a dozen kdramas, so I’m pretty limited in my knowledge!

Characters that I love a lot, but have very zero fic impulses toward:

Han Yeo-jin from Stranger/Secret Forest: What a delight! What an iconique character! Is there anyone like her? NO. LSY-nim gives us a delightfully complex character, and Bae Doona knocks it out of the park in every single scene, so I’m just happy to be along for the ride. I think what makes Yeo-jin special for me is the intrinsic place of empathy that she operates from.  I think “righteous” is a word that often comes with negative connotations (self-righteous, for eg), but I do think she’s one of the most righteous-in-the-good-way characters I’ve watched in kdrama or any drama. I’m tired of stories that portray goodness as “boring” , as unworthy of narrative breadth or depth, and I love that Han Yeo-jin comes to us like a breath of fresh air in our particular dystopian narratives hellscape. She’s good, but never naive. She’s righteous but never cruel in her moral certainties.  I think that LSY nim, in the second season especially, gave Yeo-jin the kind of arc that character deserved when she’s forced to really dig deep into herself to figure out how she’s going to live in the world in the face of a deeply cutting, deeply personal disillusionment, and I’m really hoping for an S3 to see how that plays out further. 

Goo Hae-ryung from Rookie Historian: Ok, I will admit this may be rose tinted glasses view due to this show being my gateway drug into kdrama, but c’mon! She’s a reader! and a Thinker! And loves her wine! She’s plucky! She’s cute! She’s got a wry sense of humour! She’s got principles! She’s got a solid common sense to her that somehow doesn’t get in the way of her dreaming BIG! Oh dear, doesn’t she sound like the Mary-est of Mary Sues? Good for her.gif,  I say! Anyways, Shin Se-kyung is unutterably charming in this (AS IN EVERY SHOW OMG GIRL) and I just have a huge fondness for free-spirited heroines who get to tramp through the narrative changing the world as they do! 

Lee Ji-an from My Ahjussi: I’ve never had my heart broken more OR restored by any single character. IU is *phenomenal * in this, I think she really stepped up to what the script demanded from her. Ji-an’s weariness, her fear and vulnerability, her prickliness, her anger and her bitterness, and how, despite everything, she fights : GOD. Just. Again, what I love about the writing in this show is that it’s deeply empathetic without being cloyingly sentimental. I think a less, hmm, imaginative writer/PD might have focused on the Lee Ji-an the victim, and while the show definitely tells you in no uncertain terms that she is one,  of both circumstances and a cruel society, I think it refuses to take away her agency over her own life.(Lee Ji-an when we meet her is too busy hanging onto life by tooth and claw to indulge in self-pity, but we also see the toll it takes on her not to be able to say “this is too heavy a burden for me to carry myself and it isn’t my fault”; the show I think approaches Dong-hoon from the opposite side- his emotional isolation is partly a result of his own choices, but he doesn’t see it yet, and so his journey is also about letting people in and sharing the burden, but also recovering his own agency over his life. It’s an interestingly gender-bent arc, which is one of the things I love about this show. )

Ok, can I please add one more?

Hwang Han-joo from Melo is my Nature: She just felt SO real to me. She’s someone who doesn’t have the spectacular brilliance of either Jin-joo or Eun-jung, and struggles with accepting her limitations but not allowing herself to be defeated by them? I love her struggles as a mother, as a working woman in a sexist industry, a woman who’s perhaps having to rethink and reimagine what she wants from romance. I love that she’s a little silly, a lot kind, and an optimist, and just. I just think she’s the bravest of the three, tbh, and I LOVE HER AND I WOULD WATCH A SPIN OFF ABOUT JUST HER (i shouldn’t have faves among the three i know, BUT I DO, IT’S HER, IT’S HER.)

Ok! On to the next section! And I’m going to cheat again because I can’t stop at three. SORRY. NOT SORRY. 

Characters I love and SHOULD write fic for if I weren’t such a tired and lazy bunny:  

Song Sa-hui from Rookie Historian: Oh, girl, girl, GIRL. I love how she fights to snatch her freedom from the jaws of the patriarchy. I love that she unapologetically centers herself while doing that, because she knows that nobody else will.  I love that she’s prickly and calculating. I love that she’s smart and knowledgeable. I am SO HAPPY that she got to carve out a little bit of freedom for herself, even if it also is exile to some degree. She *should * be Emperor Jin’s Prime Minister and steering the ship of state, while also carrying on a tumultous affair with Queen Min Woo-hee, while ALSO commiserating with Emperor Jin about his boyfriend Historian Min Woo-won’s regrettable tendency towards Principles (TM) and masochism-but-not-in-the-fun-way. (This takes up much of his time which is why Song Sa-hui is running the country, of course. It works out well for all concerned, well, except her dad, of course.)

Song Ga-gyeong from Search:WWW: What’s NOT to love about our brilliant, beautiful, emotionally tortured gay icon? Nothing, absolutely nothing. I loved how the show allowed her to be flawed and make bad decisions, and then allowed her to make better decisions and regain control of her life. What I do need to do, of course, is see the CANON LOVE STORY between her and Cha Hyeon through to the end. It must, of course, include at least one baseball game, a lot of tequila and messy beach kisses. 

Oh Ji-hwa from Beyond Evil: Oh boy, this year’s runaway hit cleared the extremely low bar for standard crime/ thriller shows by leaving more than one of its female characters breathing and with all limbs intact, and got called feminist for it BUT it didn’t do justice to any of them in any meaningful way and that never hurt more than in the way they sidelined Kim Shin-rok’s talent by not giving Oh Ji-hwa anything much to do. She’s a tough as nails cop, a loving sister, a devoted but unsentimental friend-and by rights SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE HEROINE OF THIS SHOW. My secret fic fantasy is to rewrite the show entirely by making her , and the two other female characters in non-antagonist roles- Yoo Jae-yi and Im Sun-nyeo- as the central characters, as they investigate a serial killer who targets women.  It’s the only acceptable version of this done-to-death (ha!) genre, I have no idea what the Baeksang jury and tumblr fandom is smoking when they hype the show so much, I want none of it. 

Jung Sun-ah from The Devil Judge: I love her rage, her spite, her passionate defense of women, her style, her sexiness, her rage, her rage, her brilliance, her tenaciousness, her smartness, her clothes, her refusal to hate herself for everything she is and chooses to be, her ambition, her comfort wielding power, her EVERYTHING. Dead, her? NOT IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. Here’s what *really * happened at the end of canon- she gets out of the building by planting that lady-like but still deadly gun against Kang Yo-han’s temple and making him lead her through his own “secret escape route” or whatever the fuck it was the show wanted us to believe. From there on out, it’s all sunshine and beaches, and scheming and waiting for the right moment to strike again-though of course, this time around, she also has to reckon with vigilant, tenacious cop Soo-hyun -another character who REALLY didn’t die for manpain reasons and had the good sense to leave her gay best friend to follow his psychopath boyfriend to Switzerland or wherever it is that star crossed lovers in kdrama land meet up on the regs these days- anyways, Soo-hyun and her are in this catch-me-if-you-can epic transnational honest and cute cop-and-beautiful sexy villain chase and yes, they WILL kiss (and more) AND IT WILL BE GLORIOUS. 

*whew *

Thanks for coming to my TEDTalk.

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Slithering Chains PT (1/3)

Yandere naga present mic x reader

quirkless/aged up au. Warnings: Only swearing for now

“C’mon Y/N! It will be fun! Rumor has it there are friendly nagas on the island!” Gushed Mina. That makes me cross my arms. She’s seriously out of her mind if she thinks it’s a good idea to go to an island for something that’s a supposed rumor. 

“I highly doubt they’d be friendly. Especially since we’d technically be invading their territory.” I reply. She rolls her eyes and huffs. 

“Besides, why should we go looking for a damn overgrown lizard?” Katsuki cuts in with a scowl and his arms crossed. Hanta shrugs. “I’m with Mina on this. It would be really cool to see one,” he turns to Eijiro. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know. I was hoping we could go camping instead somewhere. Katsuki still has to show me those incredibly manly skills he learned back in boy scouts he hasn’t shown me yet.” Katsuki’s face went to full-on pride. 

Mina suddenly jumps up and down. “I have the PERFECT idea! We should go camping at the island!!! That way we could do both!” 

“Ooh! That’s a great idea! Count me in!” Exclaimed Denki. 

Katsuki’s face falls into a deep frown. “That actually sounds like a good idea!” Eijiro cheerfully replies. Mina fist-bumps the air and tackles Eijiro into a tight hug. “You can definitely count me in!.” Hanta pipes up.  

I can already tell we’re not going to win this argument. Wait, didn’t Hanta go to boy scouts as well? “Weren’t you in boy scouts too? Can’t you do the same things?” I question. He sheepishly smiles at me. “Eh, I didn’t last very long in it for a few different reasons.” 

“Not showing up half the damn time and hanging out with dunce face really didn’t help.” Katsuki informs. They both flinch at his words. “Uh… let’s not talk about that…” 

They all suddenly turn to me expectantly, even Katsuki, probably hoping I deny. You know what? There’s nothing too bad that could possibly happen, and they most likely won’t stop begging until we do. “... fine,” I turn to Katsuki. “You better have some mad skills.” 

He glares at me annoyed. “Of fucking course  they’re good!” 

I smirk. Sometimes he’s so fun to piss off. “Well, pack up guys. We’re going camping.” 

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

It took a little longer than we thought to find a boat that would take us. No one wanted to go to the island. We eventually found a place around the ocean that would bring us for a rather large fee. None of us were happy about that but it was the best shot we had. Also if something happens to us on the island we’re on our own since they won’t come back for four days to pick us up. Good thing we packed extra food. We also only brought three tents since they’d be a hassle to carry otherwise and we can take turns carrying them if needed. 

We get right up to the island and get dropped off on a sandy beach. The boat immediately pulls away from the island. A nagging feeling was rising in the back of my mind. “You wonder why none of them wanted to come to this island?” I suddenly question. 

“It does seem a little odd. Even the one we came on left pretty quickly. I’m sure it’s nothing important though!” Eijiro replies. 

I refuse to let it fly by. Something about that seems more wrong the more I think about it. Looking at Katsuki, he seems to be thinking the same way I am. The other four take off towards the tall trees not too far from the beach. With the sun being at its highest peak, the trees are casting a large shady area half over the beach. I’m a little jealous of how he’s carrying two of the tents and his backpack so effortlessly. 

Luckily they waited up ahead for us. “Seriously, if you and I weren’t around, I swear they’d have died of their crazy antics years ago.” He grunts in confirmation. Denki sees something and takes off in another direction. 

“Denki! Get your ass back here! We need to stick together for now!” I yell at him.

“Come here then! This place has weird blueberries!” 

Oh no. “Denki! Don’t eat them/Don’t even touch the fucking bush!” Katsukii and I yell simultaneously. We quickly get up to him with the other three trailing behind us. Katsuki goes right up to him and slaps the small black berry in his hand out of it. “You fucking dumbass, that’s nightshade!” 

Looking at the bush, it wasn’t just any nightshade. I facepalm. “We haven’t been here for even ten minutes and you already almost ate deadly nightshade.”

From the fear that grew on Denki’s face, he understood well the name of the plant and stepped away. “Whew, well, uh… Good thing I didn’t eat one yet, huh?” 

The only reply was Katsuki smacking Denki on his forehead. 

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” He shrieks. 

Boisterous laughter comes from above. We look around, and my eyes catch onto a long tail draping across a few of the branches higher up. It was light green with darker green lines across and a pale yellow underside. “Good thing ya caught your friend! I was just about to stop him myself!” The large serpent body trickles to the floor like molasses until the too human-like torso comes down as well. His hair is incredibly long. It’s past where his torso ends and the snake part begins. He’s. Fucking. Massive. I look at Mina. “You didn’t tell me they were this big!” 

“How was I supposed to know!? The news never said anything about their size!” She yells at me. Katsuki goes into a fighting stance like he could actually do harm to the giant thing. Judging from the chest and face, it’s a male. His green eyes match the light green on his tail, and his hair matches his underside. 

The naga replies with another laugh, leans down, and pokes my nose. “Well, I am! And you guys must be curious humans, huh? There haven’t been any here in quite a while!” 

My brain is still trying to process how large he is. He’s longer than four of me together. An intrusive wanting of touching his tail pops up in my mind. Seriously!? I JUST saw him and want to touch him? What the everloving FUCK mind!?

He looks at our backpacks. “Ooh! Ya guys stayin’ for a few days? That’s great! You guys can tell me more about your place!” Mina wasn’t kidding about them seeming to be friendly. “Those bags seem heavy, would you like me to help?” 

I shake my head. “Nah, we got it. Do you know a place we could set up a camp though?” I ask him. He nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! There’s a pretty good open area by my cave!” He takes a sharp left turn with his body a little ways ahead of us. 

We all look at each other and shrug. He seems friendly enough. Well, Katsuki is the only one still not on board with being around the naga. The naga could be faking, but he seems pretty genuine. My bet is it just hurts Katsuki’s pride he wouldn’t be able to take the naga down himself if a fight breaks out. He’d still try though knowing him. 

The naga kept stopping and looking behind to make sure we were following. Most of us were falling a bit behind since he was still rather fast despite his constant stopping. It must have been about twenty minutes until we got into a clearing with a giant cave next to it. Denki is breathing rather heavily. He throws off his backpack and faceplants into the soft dirt. We all laugh at him, even the naga. Throwing my backpack off, I roll my already stiff shoulders. Man, how do hikers keep those giant backpacks on for so long? 

I look over at Katsuki. Once again, the all-powerful man doesn’t even need to do that. “Dude, I seriously envy you sometimes.” He rolls his eyes. “You’re just weak, dumbass. You’re also not used to it.”

“Hey, hey, hey! No need to be talkin’ like that! We’re all friends!”

Katsuki’s face goes into a snarl. “You can’t tell me what to do, you fucking overgrown lizard.” The naga has an astonished facial reaction for a second. “Sorry about him, he’s always like this.” Eijiro sheepishly informs. 

He shakes his head, and grows a smirk. “Well, good thing you’re all used to it! I gotta say, haven’t been called an overgrown lizard before! Also, shouldn’t it be ‘an overgrown reptile’?” He goes up to Katsuki and starts poking his forehead. “What other so-clever names ya got hidden up in there?” Katsuki tries to bite his finger, making him quickly pull his hand away. “Feisty!~” 

“We all kinda have a nickname he gives us. Mine’s shitty hair, but uh, please just call me Eijiro! What’s yours by the way?” He questions. 

His eyes widened. “Right! Name’s Hizashi! Ya probably heard of me at some point!” We all look confused at each other. “Nope, sorry, that name doesn’t ring any bells.” He grew sad for a moment about that, and mumbled something. 

I decided to try bringing him out of… whatever he’s getting into. “Mine is Y/N. The crabby one is Katsuki, the other blond is Denki, the pink-haired is Mina, and the black-haired one is Hanta. We may not have heard of you, but maybe you could tell us about yourself after we set up camp? As long as you’re truly okay with that.” I say, a little concerned we might still be intruding on his territory. 

“I’d love to! And of course you guys can stay around here for a while! It’s probably better since some nagas don’t like humans too much.” Katsuki crosses his arms. “Well, I dare them to take me on.” Hizashi pinches his cheek for a second, only to be nearly bitten again. “Aw, like ya could do much harm to us! Your enthusiasm is great though! They’d easily crush you.” 

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m not going down without a fight.” I roll my eyes at him. The others snicker at my reaction. “Anyways, we’re burning daylight. Let’s set up camp, and maybe our new friend could show us around a bit.” 

He mock bows. “Gladly, your highness!” Mina snickers and whispers “I ship it” jokingly. I give her a “really bitch?” look, making her almost keel over in silent laughter. It doesn’t take long for us all to take out our things and start setting up the tents. I pull out my rolled up sleeping bag to place next to the tent. “Yellow, huh?” Questions Hizashi. He gets a far-off look in his eyes for a second. I look down at the giant obnoxious yellow sleeping bag in my hands. 

“Not my choice of color, but it was on sale for a really good price, so I thought I might as well. Is there something wrong with it?” I ask. 

He shakes his head. “No, not at all! It just reminds me of another human that came here a while ago!” There was a look in his face that almost seemed obsessed. None of the others noticed the possibly red flag. Mina was too busy goofing off with Hanta and Denki, which were having trouble setting up their tent. Eijiro was trying to help Katsuki, but he kept messing Katsuki up, making him get multiple smacks on his head. 

“Is it okay to ask what happened to him?” His face turns into a harsh glare. It was easy to tell it wasn’t directed at me. “His “friends” took him from me when he left my cave one night. I waited years for him to return, but he never did. They must not be letting him return!” His tone went from angry, to sad, back to angry. 

Something doesn’t seem to add up with that. If he really wanted to return, he would have visited a while ago. Then again, it was pretty hard finding a boat to bring us here, and life can get hectic quite easily. I decided to put it in the back of my mind and focus on the now. 

The sound of tazing brought my attention to Denki, Mina, and Hanta. Mina has an electronic flyswatter in her hand, and smacked Denki with it. “Mina! That’s not what that’s for!” I yell at her.

She laughs. “Come on, it’s not hurting him too badly!” 

“Easy for you to say! How about I zap you now!?” He swipes it from her and smacks her forearm with it, making her shriek.  

I facepalm. “Which one of you idiots brought the flyswatter?” Hanta and Mina point at Denki. I glare at Mina. “What were you doing digging in his backpack when you could have been helping me put up the damn tent?” She replies with an embarrassed smile. 

I’m struggling to keep the tent up and push the tent pegs into the ground without a hammer. “I can help ya! What should I do?” Hizashi asks. “Could you help me push these in?” He nods and I move out of the way to hold the tent tight. He slams the tip of his tail on the peg, pushing it all the way down in one go. It honestly startles me. “Jeez dude! A little warning would be nice!” 

He rubs his neck sheepishly. “Sorry!” As we do the other three pegs, I can’t stop looking at his tail. He seems to notice, and wags the tip of it. “Like what ya see?” He teases. I look away in embarrassment. “Don’t worry about it! I was kinda the same way the first time I saw one of your kind!” He puts his tail in front of me. “I can tell you wanna touch it. Go ahead!” 

I’m unsure about it, but place my hand gently on the top of his tail. It was the back of it closer to his human torso. Nothing but raw muscle, and the heat it radiated was phenomenal. I quickly take my hand away. 

“You two are getting along well quick! And to think you didn’t want to come Y/N!” Mina comes up and teases. Hizashi seems surprised by hearing that news. “Aw, good thing ya did though! It’s already fun having you guys around!”

“Yeah, yeah. Enough of that stupid cheesy talk or whatever. Show us around.” Katsuki says half-heartedly like he really doesn’t want to be here. Hizashi ignores his lack of enthusiasm and nods with a smile. He then starts to move his body to the right of us. 

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

A few hours after, we arrive back to our camp exhausted. The sun was close to setting. Even Katsuki’s breathing was slightly ragged. We’ve learned a lot about this place.  Mostly not many nagas are too open to humans, and there aren’t that many due to most being quite territorial as well as females being rather rare. The four of them were horrified learning we could have met a bad end. Katsuki and I called it that they wouldn’t be too friendly. 

There is also the giant pile of wood he’s been collecting in case any humans visit. That’s so nice of him. He told us it gets pretty boring since not many talk to him, even the others on the other side of the giant island. That makes me feel rather bad for him. Of course, Mina being Mina, hugged him then. He returned the hug with no objections. He also told us the lifespan of nagas can be an average of 800 years. He himself is only about 300 years old. We all almost fainted from the shock of that. 

He helps haul a ton of rather large pieces of wood and sticks next to his cave. The pile was a bit farther out so it wasn’t in his way of his cave. Katsuki starts setting up the fire with a bunch of giant rocks that Hizashi still has around. It takes him no time at all to start a good fire. 

“Way to go dude! Knew you had the skills!” I tease. He glares at me in a way that shows he’s dangerously close to smacking me. I only give him a smirk in return. “Of fucking course, dumbass. Why would I not?” I shrug in reply.

“Hey, you guys want marshmallows? I brought a few bags.” Hanta says, grabbing a bag of marshmallows out of his backpack, along with two short roasters that can extend. 

“Sure dude, pass me the bag. I’d rather eat them not roasted.” Denki informs. Hanta passes him the bag while he extends the roasters and passes one to Eijiro. After Denki opens the bag, Hizashi reels away a little bit, catching my attention.

“You alright?” I ask him. “Heh, yeah! Those things just smell a little too sweet for me, ya know?” I nod in understanding. 

“Oh yeah, I guess it would be pretty weird, huh?” Mina wonders aloud. 

“Would you like us to put them away?” I ask. Denki hugs the bag of marshmallows to his chest. Hizashi shakes his head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for being so considerate though!” 

After a bit, we decided to tell scary stories. The cheesy usual thing to do. Hizashi seems rather invested in every story told, no matter how bad it is. Right now, Mina is saying hers, and it’s actually pretty good. It’s about a male serial killer that fell obsessed with a male victim of his. The male refused to be with the killer for the obvious reason of them being a killer, and that they’re not interested in men. They were able to escape the chains the killer put them in, and picked up a large piece of a broken mirror that was near him. He decided to give the killer the element of surprise by pretending to still be chained.

“And so, while the killer’s back was turned, the male plunges the glass through the killer’s back!” she brings her hands up for some sort of dramatic emphasis. “They ran towards the still-chained other person and helped them pull the chains free while keeping an eye on the killer who fell to the ground. The man knew the killer was still alive, there was no way they died that quick. He helps the victim pass the killer and tries to pass himself, only to be grabbed by the ankle by the killer! He was still weak though, so it was easy enough for the man to break free and run outside. Luckily for them, they were in a neighborhood with a house not far away.”

We’re all honestly at the end of our seats listening intently. Well, minus Denki who seems rather terrified. Hizashi has an unreadable expression. 

“The neighbors were terrified, but called the police for help. The only problem?... There was no body on the floor when the police investigated. There was only blood. To make things scarier, the blood belonged to someone not in the system.” She grows quiet. 

“Is that it?” Denki questions. 

She shakes her head. “The man knew the killer would come for him again. He moved to the other side of the country. Everything seemed fine for him years later, starting his own family and moving on. At least, until he came home from work one night to a rather quiet home. He enters the home to the copper smell of blood overpowering him, bringing back memories he’s tried so hard to forget. He turns on the light to see his wife in her own blood, his blood freezing in fear. The familiar voice of the killer whispers behind him “You want a family? Well, now we can be.” and the last thing he saw was his children with nothing but fear tied up on the couch in the living room.” 

I was in shock that she said a story so dark. “Damn Mina, that was a wicked story! Where did you learn such a story?” I ask. 

“It was actually from a book a friend told me about!”

“They sure have a shitty taste in books.” Katsuki quips. 

“Like yours is probably much better, little boy scout.” I sarcastically reply. His fists clench. 

“Uh, hey! Maybe we should all go to bed! We have another big day tomorrow of exploring.” Eijiro pipes up, trying to prevent Katsuki from doing anything drastic. Katsuki growls and stomps off to his and Eijiro’s tent. 

Mina lets out a big yawn herself, stretches, and goes towards our tent. Denki and Hanta go to their tent as well. Hizashi puts a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, uh… Would ya mind hanging out with me for a while yet?” 

I shrug. “Sure, just let me get my sleeping bag.” I go and get it, Mina giving me a teasing smirk. “Don’t you get those thoughts in your head.” 

I drag the sleeping bag over close to the still burning fire. It grows quiet between us for a bit, the only sound being the crackling of the fire and the chirping of the crickets. His tail wraps around the bottom of my sleeping bag, trapping me from moving if I decided to by being around my feet. I reach down and pat his tail. 

“So, is there anything you want to talk about now?” I ask, lowering my voice to a near whisper so the others could sleep. “Well, how long are you guys planning on staying?” 

“After this, three days. We couldn’t get them to change the amount of days. It was so odd and hard getting here.” Hizashi perks up at that information. “Anyways, what are we doing tomorrow?” I ask. 

“Ooh! There’s a waterfall not too far from here I think you and your friends will like! It’s kinda hidden, and we’ll have to be careful since it will be close to two of my kinds territories, but as long as we don’t do anything it shouldn’t be a problem. One of them is the other most friendly naga I know! He may even come say hi!” 

“I bet Mina will be happy about that.” I felt more of his tail stealthily trying to go farther on my legs. 

“You’re really not being stealthy you know,” His tail stops. “Sorry. I just can’t help but wanting to touch someone as cute as you!~” 

Heat rushed to my face. “Well, you can hug me if you want. You just had to ask.”

He didn’t have to be told twice before his tail wrapped more around my sleeping and his bare torso went against my back. This isn’t exactly what I had in my head, but I did say hug. He’s still rather warm to the point of it slightly going through my sleeping bag. “How are you still so warm?” 

“This place usually doesn’t get that cold. My body’s most likely used to that.” 

“Makes sense I guess.”

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

I wake up to feeling something tight around me, and whispering. I can’t move my arms either. It’s obviously Hizashi. “Katsuki bro, you don’t have to do anything! He’s not hurting them.”

“I don’t fucking care. There’s something about that damn thing that isn’t sitting right!” 

“Aw, you truly care about-” Denki starts. He suddenly stops. 

“You’re probably just overreacting. We’ve only been here not even a full day. He’s still pretty friendly.” Eijiro sounds almost desperate. 

“That’s the thing you fucking dumbasses! Did you not hear him last night with Y/N? It’s not fucking-” 

“Well, mornin to you guys too!” Hizashi suddenly pipes up, silencing all of them. Ugh, it’s too early. I groan and nuzzle closer into his tail in front of me. I don’t feel like opening my eyes to look at them.

Hizashi laughs. “Morning to you as well!” 

I felt someone get close to me besides Hizashi. “Mina, I swear if you touch me with that fly swatter…” She steps away, confirming my prediction. “How did you know?”

“You dumbasses are known for doing such stupid things. Not really a surprise.” Katsuki replies. “Aw, Katsuki, you don’t have to be so mean about it!” Denki jokes. 

“Shut up guys. It’s too early.” I grumble. 

“Early? The sun is already half way to its highest point!” Hizashi replies with a teasing tone. I only reply with a groan again. 

Hanta clears his throat. “So, uh… What are we doing today?” 

“I already told Y/N last night, but we’re going to a waterfall today!”

“A waterfall? How did we not hear it on our walk yesterday?” Eijiro asks. “Simple! It’s the other direction over a cliff!” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “C-cliff? Isn’t that dangerous?” Denki asks. 

“We will be fine! I’ve done it many times before!” 

“If you say so…” Eijiro replied, sounding quite unsure. 

Hizashi unwraps around me almost reluctantly. He rubs the top of my head, waking me up a bit. “C’mon, ya gotta get up so we can go Y/N!” I ignore them and try to sleep again, using my arms as a pillow since Hizashi is no longer by my head. 

“Tzzt” Something touched my arm and sent a sharp pain through my arm. I instantly knew what it was, and I am NOT happy. I get up instantly. “Minaaaa!”

“Oh shit!” She drops the electric fly swatter and takes off running behind Hizashi. 

Denki and Hanta start laughing. “Get her Y/N!!!” Hizashi blocks me with his hands and holds Mina by his tail while chuckling. It wasn’t light like usual though. This sounded slightly darker if that makes sense. All I know is it sent a chill up my spine. I glare hard at Mina. 

“Now, I know whatever that thing was woke ya up, but let’s not focus on that, and let’s get going to the waterfall, yeah? If you want, I could carry you for a bit more sleep!” I back away in embarrassment. “That’s okay. Let’s just get going then.” 

He laughs normally again and lets go of Mina. 

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

It didn’t take too long to start climbing the cliff  to the waterfall. The crashing waves of it is able to be heard in the distance. Hizashi is leading the way with us rather close. It’s getting rather narrow and crumbling with a really high view in front of us. It’s beautiful with the trees, but terrifying how one step can make you fall off the edge. More ground crumbles under my shoe. My foot is basically off the edge at this point. I look up at Hizashi. I’m right beside him while the others are a bit back. “This seems like a bad idea. I think this is more-” My foot slips and I start to fall. My heart feels like it stopped. “Shit!”  

“Y/N!” they all yell. Faster than someone can even blink, Hizashi’s tail wrapped around my torso before I got too far down the cliff. I look down to see a very deep drop that would obviously kill me, but what was even more concerning was the naga looking up at me. It has to be twice the size of Hizashi. 

Hizashi kept a very tight grip on my torso as my legs shakily kept trying to give out as he had me stand up. We all stopped for a moment. “That’s it, fuck the waterfall. This isn’t worth going for.” Katsuki says, even more angry than usual. 

I can feel Hizashi shaking as well. “Heh, that was not a part of the plan. We’ll be going down towards the waterfall soon. I’ll see if Toshinori would let me bring you guys through his territory on the way back.” 

“Well, why didn’t we do that in the first place!? Y/N could have died!” Eijiro exclaims. “I’ll admit, I thought the fear would be funny. Definitely not now!” 

He kept me closer to him as we went down the cliff. It felt better the closer the even ground came to be. The giant naga I saw earlier comes fast into our view. He has a bright golden tail that matches his hair. The most obvious part of him is a giant scar on his side. His eyes show great concern. “Are you all okay!? I saw what  happened a bit ago,” His eyes squinted at Hizashi. “And I TOLD you to stop taking that way with visitors!” 

Hizashi replies with a teasing roll of his eyes, but it’s showing that he understands and does regret taking that route. “Very shaken up, but fine I think.” I reply. It wasn’t until now I noticed how the waterfall is much louder. He nods. “That’s a relief. I take it you’re going to the waterfall?” 

We nodded. Mina quickly goes up to him. ‘Hey, what’s your name by the way? Mine’s Mina!” 

He grows a kind and friendly smile on his face. “Toshinori. Nice to meet all of you. We haven’t had any humans visit in quite a while.” In quite a while? So people DID used to come here. That’s making the unnerving feeling rise up again. Something must have happened to make them stop coming. But what could it possibly be? These two are friendly. Is it because they might be the only ones that are friendly? Maybe he’d know. I could ask Hizashi, but something feels like that’s a bad idea. 

Mina suddenly pulls out a camera. “You brought a camera?” I asked. “Well, duh! I forgot earlier if I could take pictures of them, but seeing the one even bigger than Hizashi reminded me!” she looks up at Toshinori. “Could we take some pictures to show my other friends?” he perks up at that. “Why, of course! Why not wait until we get to the waterfall? We could do a group one!” 

Mina fist-bumps the air. “Yes! In front of the waterfall would be a GREAT view! Let’s go!” 

The rest of us told our names to him, well, Eijiro did for Katsuki again, on our way to the waterfall. Hizashi still hasn’t let go of me. Toshinori’s brows seem to crease in worry about that. I pat his tail twice. “Uh… Hizashi? Could you let me go now?” He does reluctantly. Mina giggles again. I decide to ignore it. The waterfall was finally in view, making the others grow more excited. Toshinori was farther ahead with the others. 

Now would probably be a good time to ask Toshinori a few things. “Why don’t you go ahead with my friends for a bit? I want to ask Toshinori a few things I’d like him to answer personally if he can.” He almost seems to go on guard after hearing that, but makes himself relax. “What about? Ya gonna talk about me?” He teases. 

“No! Of course not! I want to hear the story about that crazy scar on his side.” I lie. The scar might be interesting, but there are more important things at the moment. He seems unsure of my answer, but nods and heads up to lead the way. 

“I need to ask you a few things.” He looks down at me. “Is it about my scar?” I shake my head. “No, I want to know if you know why no humans want to come here lately.” He looks at Hizashi, who I can swear started moving more slowly, then back to me. He nods. 

“Do you know why humans no longer want to come to the island?” His smile disappears. “To prevent you from being afraid, all I will say is it’s safer for you to leave the island sooner than later.”  

My face scrunches up in frustration and confusion. “That doesn’t make sense! Why though? What could be here you guys couldn’t help us from?” 

“At least a little more information, dumbass.” Katsuki pipes up from behind me. Toshinori shakes his head and goes back to the others. I look beside me to see Katsuki crossing his arms. “I still don’t trust these overgrown lizards. Especially now.” 

“You and I both. Well, I trust they aren’t going to kill us, but I don’t trust they’re not telling us what they should.”

“It’s good we’re staying here two less days.” I look at him confused. “What do you mean?” 

“I told them to make it two less days, or when we get back I’d make their lives hell. I wanted to be here the least amount possible.” 

“Are you sure they’ll listen? They might leave us here if you threatened them.” He grew a sadistic smirk. “Kyoka is making sure.” I shake my head while smiling at him. “Always the ever-clever one, huh?” 

“Someone has to be since you dumbasses sure won’t.” I roll my eyes at him again. “Can’t argue with that. 

.

.

. 

Nerd.” I take off running to catch up without looking back, afraid of being smacked if caught. “Y/N!!!” He angrily screams, and it’s easy to tell he’s running after me. “Hahahaha!” I ran past Hizashi. His tail slams down between Katsuki and I. “Let’s save rough play for later, yeah?” 

I pout. “Aw, Hizashi, you’re no fun!” 

He pouts back. “No fun? I’m PLENTY of fun! C’mere!” He wiggles his fingers, signifying what he’s going to do. I shriek and jump away, but with no success since he's faster and uses his tail to get me stuck in place. 

“That’s enough Hizashi.” Toshinori harshly says, and takes me out of Hizashi’s grip, keeping his body closer to mine so Hizashi can’t. 

The others seem confused by Toshinori’s reaction, but shake it off. Katsuki glares harder at the two nagas. I decide to ignore everything and look at the waterfall. It’s really high up and beautiful. I stop. “Hey, wouldn’t this be a good area for the picture? We could get a large portion of the waterfall in it!” 

Mina quickly takes out her camera again from her pocket. “Yes! Let’s do it!” We get situated. Toshinori is on my right with Eijiro and Mina. Katsuki stays close on my left with Hizashi next to him, with Hanta and Denki unnecessarily crouching in front of him and doing the peace sign. Toshinori grabs the camera with his tail and is able to hold it out to hopefully show all of us in it. No doubt Katsuki isn’t going to smile in it. 

He took a few, and they all turned out great. We then wander close to the bottom of the waterfall where there’s a rather slow stream that goes half way up my calves. I know since we all took our shoes off and entered the shallow stream with the nagas not too far away just in case. While the others are messing around and throwing water at each other, I saw a really cool looking rock a bit farther in the water. It’s in a bit deeper water though… I could possibly ask someone to help. Nah. I look over to see Hizashi being busy talking with Toshinori. It doesn’t seem too friendly whatever they’re talking about judging by their movements. Katsuki is fairly close to them without them realizing, and he doesn’t seem happy with whatever he’s hearing. His face is crunched even more than usual. 

I look down towards the rock again and reach for it. The water goes up past my shoulder, getting my shirt wet. The current in that part is much stronger, almost making me lose my balance. My hand touches it, and I try to bring it up. It’s rather stuck in the ground. I firmly grip it and yank it. It comes free, kicking up a lot of dirt with it. Rinsing it in the water a bit more, it came out clean and was a rather large agate. It’s the size of my palm. A really cool one with multiple lines in it too. I dry it a bit on the bottom of my shorts and put it in my pocket. 

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

The day went by rather quickly until we returned to our camp. Toshinori didn’t come with us, much to Mina’s dismay. We definitely got some kind of sunburn today. Denki looks like he’s gotten the worst of it. Katsuki nearly slapped him until I prevented it. I’d rather not hear how loud he can scream in pain. 

We didn’t feel like doing stories tonight. “Ugh, after this, I don’t think I’m ever going outside again.” Denki complains. “You will, even if I have to drag you.” Katsuki threatens. “Aw, big old buff boy truly does have a heart for us!” I tease. He harshly slaps my shoulder. “Point taken.” I say in a bit of pain. “You shouldn’t hurt your friends like that.” Hizashi pipes up being next to me on my right. Katsuki ignores him. “Forgot to mention, the boat will be here tomorrow to pick us up.” Hizashi tenses up. 

“How do you know that?” Hanta asks. “It’s Katsuki, how else?” I reply. “But we’re having so much fun here! And Hizashi has helped tell me so much about nagas!” Mina whines. “True. well, it was fun while we were here though!” I look at Hizashi. “Thanks for that!” He nods. “Of course!” Something didn’t feel too genuine or enthusiastic with his answer. I heard Hanta snoring. He must have passed out not too long ago. 

Eijiro yawns. “Man, today sure was fun though! Hopefully we can come back some day!” Katsuki and I share a look. “Yeah! It’s hard to find a boat to take us though, so it might be a while.” I inform, trying my hardest to not give away that we won’t be coming back. 

“Hey, Katsuki, could you bring Hanta to our tent? I can’t carry him.” 

“No. The dumbass fell asleep out here, he can stay out here.” Eijiro rolls his eyes at him. “I’ll do it.” He gets up and bridal carries Hanta to the tent with Denki following. Mina goes to ours. Katsuki pulls me close. “Don’t trust that fucking naga. Stay away from him.” He hisses, gets up, and goes to his tent. What was that about? He hasn’t been wrong before though, so it might be best to listen. It stayed silent for a while after Eijiro went to his tent and most likely everyone was asleep. 

I put my hands in my pockets and felt the rock. “I want to give you something to remember us by when we leave,” I take out the rock and give it to him. Something glinted in his eyes and he took it and cupped it with both hands like it was the most fragile thing in the world. A feeling is telling me I just made a big mistake. Why though? It’s just a rock? “It’s not much, but maybe you’ll like its memories?” 

“I’ll definitely treasure it!” his voice becomes more quiet. “Just like I’ll always treasure you.” He means like everything we’ve done the past two or so days, right? 

“Well, goodnight Hizashi!” I say, and go towards Mina and I’s tent. “Could we please do the same thing as last night? As a parting gift or something? It will get so lonely again.” His tone became rather saddened. I almost gave in on pity for him. I remember Katsuki’s words though, and try to think of an excuse. Right! Sunburn! “Sorry Hizashi. I really don’t want to be touched tonight, especially with this sunburn. That will hurt.” 

“Maybe the cold of my cave could help with that! Why don’t we try that?” He sounds desperate. Him being desperate sends off another red flag in my head.

“Sorry. I’d rather be alone tonight.” I say and enter my tent, zipping it up. 

He must have given up since he goes quiet after that. It doesn’t take long after that for sleep to start to overtake me. 

.

.

.

.

.

. 

...Did the zipper just open? I was too tired to check. It’s most likely nothing.

[norarigby]

Nights

Pairing: StreetRacer!Hawks x fem!reader

Warnings: a bit of suggestive content (17+)

Word count: ~1.3k

A/n: Whew, got carried away with this one. But I’m kind of in love with this AU. Also, I listened to Shut Up and Drive by Rihanna and Everybody Loves Me by OneRepublic while writing this. Could be interesting to listen while reading? Anyway, enjoy!

Saturdays.

Saturdays were your favorite.

It started back in your junior year of high school. Your now ex-boyfriend was a street racer by night and begged you for weeks and weeks to come to a race with him. You honestly didn’t see the appeal, especially since he drove a Kia Forte—a nice car, but not really “street racing” material. Eventually, you gave in and promised one race.

Boy, did you regret not going with him sooner.

Because when he pulled up with his Subaru Impreza decked with a holographic wrap, LEDs, and a 300hp engine, you knew he meant business.

Even after you broke it off with him, you still had pretty good ties in that community. So, every Saturday night continued to be racing night. You definitely didn’t participate, but every once in a while, you’d sweet talk some racer in letting you sit shotgun with them. The thrill and danger of the ride always enticed you and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Even more rare would be the nights you got to play flag girl. It wasn’t your favorite, but after a lot of convincing and a couple shots, you would eventually give in.

It looked like tonight was going to be one of those nights.

“Come onnnn, y/n!” Mimiko whined as she pulled on your arm, “It’ll be funnnn! And you know the boys loooove it when you do it!”

You and Mimiko had agreed to go out for a few drinks before tonight. She promised she wouldn’t get more than tipsy so you wouldn’t have to babysit her again. Obviously, that plan was working phenomenally.

You rolled your eyes, “Fine. But only if you don’t touch another drink tonight unless it’s water, got it?”

“Y/nnnnn!” Mimiko’s face lit up and she bounced up and down in her seat, “I promise! I’ll text Ichiro and let him know you’ll do it!”

You were already regretting agreeing to it. But Mimiko was excited and you’d do anything to keep her from getting completely wasted—you did not want to repeat last week. You ordered one more shot to calm your nerves then texted Kaito to come pick you two up.

The shot did not, in fact, help your nerves. If anything, they got worse the closer you got. You drummed your fingers against the armrest to try to sooth your anxiety. You’re not really sure why, being the flag girl wasn’t hard per se. But there was a definite expectation. Flag girls started the race, yes, but they also had to get the boys excited. And that took a certain....flair you definitely didn’t have.

Regardless of how you felt, you agreed to this. And if street racers were anything, it would be stubborn. Didn’t matter what it was, they held you to your word and would not let you back down. So you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths to calm down.

You don’t need to be the most confident, gorgeous girl there, some old advice echoed in your mind. You just need to convince them you are.

When you opened your eyes again, the car had arrived at its location. Kaito and Mimiko got out and immediately dispersed to go talk with others who had arrived early. You touched up some of your makeup, took another deep breath, then exited the car.

“Daaaamn, d’you come with someone tonight or can I have you to myself?” A voice sounded from behind you.

You turned to your caller. Comments like these weren’t rare amongst this crowd. You get used to them after a while. What you needed to figure out was whether or not it would be worth it to indulge.

And indulge you would.

The man that stood in front of you looked a few years older than who you would normally see at races. But that didn’t make him any less attractive. His entire demeanor screamed effortlessness and inflated ego. From his windswept blond hair to the tan leather jacket swung over his shoulder, he dripped with charm and swagger. He had an athletic build with an average height—although, he was leaning on the adjacent car, so it was hard to tell. Though the most striking feature was his eyes. They were this light golden brown that glinted in the street lights. They held yours in a gaze that took your breath away.

Oh yeah, he was definitely worth it.

Leaning against the door and crossing you ankles, you finally answered, “That depends. Is that your car?”

He glanced at the car he was leaning on, “The Mitsubishi? I wouldn’t bring this to race with if it were the last car on Earth.”

“So you’re one of the racers for tonight then?”

“That’s right,” He unwrapped a sucker and stuck it in his mouth, rolling to to the side with his tongue, “Name’s Hawks, by the way.”

Giving him another once over, you decided you give your newfound confidence a test drive. You walked over and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Well, Hawks, I’ll make you a deal. Win this race, and I’m all yours tonight.”

His hands ghosted at your waist as he took in a sharp breath, “Is that right? Then I’ll see you at the finish line, in first, of course.”

You finally pulled back, glancing at the white stick in between his lips. Bringing one hand up, you plucked the candy from his mouth and placed it into your own. His eyes widened as you took a step back, “Can’t wait.”

As you walked away, your mind was screaming at you. Where in hell did that come from? Either way, call it a massive ego boost. You felt like you were on cloud nine as you walked over to Mimiko. You joked and flirted with a couple people you knew. Every once in a while, your eyes would flit over to the blond to take him in again. He was addicting. And you couldn’t wait to be his for the night.

Eventually, 12:00 rolled around and it was your time to shine. By then, you’d definitely relaxed enough and you were gonna have some fun—especially now that you’d gotten under one of the racer’s skin.

As you strutted between the cars, onlookers wolf whistled and shouted colorful comments. You approached the first driver and blew them a kiss. This prompted a wild response from the audience. Feeling more confident, you approached the second driver and kissed him on the cheek. Even as the crowd roared again, you knew this last car was going to be your favorite. You sauntered to the driver, who already was partially leaning out his window. Hawks was drinking in every step you took and was practically salivating.

You leaned down to meet him at eye level, “Don’t get too distracted, pretty boy. It’d be a shame to see you lose.” With your index finger, you traced along his jawline until you reached his chin, tilting it upwards.

He smirked, “I don’t lose.”

Hawks grabbed your wrist and kissed your hand. Flustered by the sudden action, you stood up fully. You finally became aware of the hush that had fallen over the crowd, a few whispers shared here and there. snapping out of your daze, you blew a kiss and a wink, finalizing your interaction with the attractive racer for now.

You returned to the raised makeshift platform by the first car. With the megaphone in one had and the flag in the other, you shouted, “Alright, boys, you know the rules. Play nice and may the fastest car win. Start your engines!”

All three revved their engines and everyone erupted in excitement.

“On your mark! Get set!” You sent a wink to Hawks, “Go!”

As the flag fell, the cars sped off in the night. They’d return in about 15-20 minutes. Until then, people would finalize their bets and drink while they waited for the cars to wind the corner.

You leaned against the streetlight next to the platform, eyes glued to that corner. Your stomach fluttered as it recalled Hawks’ confidence about winning and your mind couldn’t help but wander to the other things he would be confident about.

You smiled, tonight was definitely going to be interesting.

(Posted January 1st, 2021, 11:45PM MST)

[ificanthaveu]

August || Shawn Mendes

Description: {Based off the teenage love triangle on Folklore: August, Betty and Cardigan} After months of silence and an apology, you find yourself falling for Shawn Mendes all over again, giving him second chances, but you’re running out of forgiveness. He was never yours to lose.

A/N: WHEW, this took me AGES to write because i wanted to include so many aspects of the three songs (that being said please listen to them and be familiar with them because there are a TON of nods to the songs and their lyrics) and i kept coming up with new ideas that just made the story way longer. BUT after nearly two months, she’s done. She’s beautiful. Please enjoy

Word count: 13.4k

You tried to ignore the old woman’s scoff as you picked up her hamburger that was “too cold” to bring it back to the kitchen to grab a new one. You locked eyes with the chef as he rolled his eyes. 

“It’s too cold,” you said with a fake smile. 

Scotty returned the smile to you as he pointed at it. 

“There’s steam coming off it,” he whispered. 

“Don’t you love summer in Virginia Beach?” You said in a fake dreamy voice as you leaned your head onto your hand. 

“I hate it almost as much as I hate this job,” he returned as he placed a new hamburger on the plate. 

“Same here,” you sighed as you grabbed the plate, bringing it back to the old woman with a profuse apology and a silent prayer that she’d still tip well. 

You glanced at your watch and let out a breath of relief as you threw your apron on the hook and grabbed a plate with your name on it. 

“Going on my break,” you called out as you made your way out to the back to eat your lunch and take a breath. 

You appreciated the silence as you enjoyed the warm weather and the gentle breeze off the shore. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” an unmistakable voice said from behind you as you felt your shoulder tense. 

“Shawn,” you said as he walked in front of you and plopped down across from you at the picnic table. 

“First shift back?” He asked as you swallowed hard and tried to shake the feeling. 

“No, no, I got here a week ago,” you said quietly. 

Shawn gave you a confused look before glancing down at his phone and sighing. 

“My shift started two minutes ago, but we’ll catch up tonight?” He asked as he walked through the back door. 

You didn’t have a chance to respond before the door slammed behind him. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest and took a deep breath, trying to calm your breathing that threatened to falter again. 

You weren’t going to fall for him again this summer. 

Last summer was a different story. 

You begged the summer memories in your head to stop flooding your senses and tried to remember the past eight months where he barely said a word to you. 

Shawn Mendes was not worth wasting another summer on. 

You choked down a few more bites of your lunch before going back in and throwing your apron back on. 

You stood next to Scotty as you watched Shawn charm the same table of ladies that definitely hated you now. 

“You good?” He asked quietly. 

You simply nodded your head, not meeting his eyes, still staring at Shawn. He followed your eyesight and nodded his head. 

“Not letting that happen again?” He questioned. 

“No,” you said flatly, putting plates on a tray as he finished them. 

You met his eyes as he tried to hide his smile. 

“We’ll see,” he whispered. 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the tray, making your way to a table in the back. 

“I can take that,” Shawn said as he came out of nowhere, grabbing the tray while you grabbed a stand for it. 

“Thanks,” you said quickly, him following you to the table, leaving you with a touch on your shoulder after he set it down. 

You catch him watching you as you take a table’s order, stumbling over the specials and pretending you didn’t hear the teenage boy laugh at you. 

You speed walked back into the kitchen to grab the food that was ready for your next table when Shawn cut you off. 

“Are you ok?” He asked with a confused look on his face. 

You tried not to roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, just in a hurry,” you said as you rushed past him and grabbed the tray, making your way to the designated table. 

Shawn stayed out of your way for the rest of your shift, and you were able to sneak out without saying goodbye to anyone but Scotty. 

The sun was just starting to set outside of your parents’ beach house you were staying in all summer. They would usually be here with you, but your dad’s decision to teach a summer college course ruined that for them this summer. But you definitely didn’t mind having the place to yourself. 

You showered quickly and changed into comfortable clothes before grabbing a blanket, crossing the sidewalk and sitting on the shore right outside your house, admiring your view of the Atlantic Ocean, watching the colors in the sky change. 

You leaned back on your elbows as you heard a crunch in the grass behind you. 

You whipped your head around to see Shawn walking up to you, his hands buried in the pockets of his work uniform. 

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting next to you. 

“Hey,” you returned. 

“Can we talk? What’s up with you?” He asked as if he genuinely had no idea, turning to face you. 

You didn’t move your eyes from the waves washing up on the shore as you sighed and ran your hands over your face. 

“You never called.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Twice. In eight months,” you said as you finally turned to him. “More like twice within the first month, and then you didn’t call for seven months.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he said. 

“I want an explanation,” you said, begging your voice not to raise. “We spent a whole summer together where I assumed we would keep that up and then you pretty much ghosted me.”

“I didn’t ghost you.”

“Then what would you call that happened?” You tested. 

Shawn sighed and turned to look at the water, resting his chin on his knees. 

The next question danced on the tip of your tongue, and you tried to choke it down but to no avail. 

“Was there someone else?”

The sigh that left his lips was enough of an answer for you. 

“You could’ve told me,” you said quietly, no wanting the tears to get caught in your throat. 

“How?” He asked as he turned to you with a soft smile. “The world we live in in the summer and the world we live in back at school are two very different worlds. Telling you would mean this world would end.”

It was a pathetic excuse. 

“So you were just going to stop talking to me and then expect to get the same thing this summer?” You tested. 

“I don’t expect anything from you, [Y/N].”

“Because you have a girl back at school.”

“Not anymore,” he snapped. 

Your heart leapt and got caught in your stomach as you sat in silence. 

“She’s out of the picture,” he said quietly. “She wasn’t ever really at school anyway. At some training program elsewhere.”

You didn’t say anything, not wanting to pry into something he didn’t want you to know. 

“We had been fighting all week while she visited,” he started, not meeting your eyes. “And there was this stupid end of the year party she wanted us to go to. So I went. Just to see her dance with the quarterback of the football team to her favorite song that I assumed she’d come find me for.”

He paused and took a deep breath. 

“At least, I was trying to find her for it.”

You still stayed quiet, not being able to find the words to say. 

You weren’t sorry for him. You didn’t feel bad. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, almost in a way that was inviting you to say something. 

“I don’t think you want to hear what I have to say,” you said, turning to look at him. 

“I deserved it?” He questioned with a smirk on his face. 

“You said it, not me,” you said as you let yourself smile. 

“I did,” he said simply. “I did deserve it.”

“Glad we can agree.”

It went silent again as you watched the waves crash on the rocks. There was room for conversation, but you didn’t have anything left to say. You were mad, but you were still crazy about him. 

“Can we pretend the last 8 months never happened?” he said. 

You sighed as you buried your head in your blanket. 

“No,” you said with a laugh. 

He returned a smile, enjoying the sound of your laugh. 

“Stupid question?”

“The stupidest.”

“Can we at least start over?” He asked. “Can I at least get another chance?”

You took a minute to stare at the intricate stitching of your blanket, trying to ignore his intense stare. 

You finally looked up at him, admiring how the setting sun made his eyes look they had flicks of honey in them. 

It was crazy how quickly he got you to forget.

“Yeah,” you said with a nod. 

He smiled, and damn, you missed that smile. 

“But we take it slow,” you said as you pointed at him. “So damn slow, and I still can’t promise anything is going to happen.”

He kept the smile as he nodded his head, somehow already knowing that would be out the window by the end of next week. 

“Deal,” he said as you draped the rest of the blanket over him and he moved closer to you. 

You both laid down, your shoulders touching as you stared at the sky. Eventually, your head found its way to his shoulder and your hand to his wrist as his hand found its place on your knee. 

“Can I stay over-“

“Absolutely not.”

“It was worth a shot.”

And you let him continue to take shots. And one after the other you either brushed them off or just let them happen. You were trying your hardest to put this past year behind you. Yet there were moments you remembered tearing down his picture from your desk and then moments after you were remembering skinny dipping at midnight. 

“What are you up to tonight?” Shawn whispered to you, his arm holding up his weight against the counter as you arranged plates onto a tray. 

“Mm, depends who’s asking,” you said softly back to him, looking up for a brief moment to meet his eyes. 

“Scotty,” he said with a crinkled eyebrow and a smirk. 

“Well, then I’m very free,” you said with a small smile, boosting the tray up as you walked away. 

“You’re too much,” he said louder as you pushed the kitchen door open with your hip and looked back at him with a shrug of your shoulders. 

“I know.”

So he showed up at your front door with takeout from your favorite restaurant and a bottle of wine along with a bouquet of flowers. 

You leaned against the doorframe as you looked at him, your arms crossed across your chest as you scanned over the items in his hands. 

“You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” You asked, letting him in. 

“Only for you,” he said softly. 

You turned around and looked at him as he continued to walk towards you. 

“You don’t want to hear what I have to say to that one,” you warned. 

“You’re right, I don’t,” he said. 

He set everything on the counter, going straight for your cabinet where he knew the plates were, instantly falling into his old routine. 

You sat on one of the stools and leaned your elbows on the counter as you watched him wander around the kitchen grabbing utensils and wine glasses. You tried to calm your heart beat as he slid you your plate and wine and sat next to you. 

He clinked his glass against yours before you both took a drink, silence falling between the two of you as you began to eat. 

You glanced out the window, watching the sunset on the water. You could feel his eyes on the back of your head. 

You turned around to meet his eyes, the sun illuminating his features in indescribable ways. Your eyes stayed locked with his as you took a sip, setting the glass back down and turning to look at him fully. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked. 

He cocked his head to the side as he took a bite, lightly shaking his head. 

“What do you mean?”

You gestured to the meal in front of you and to the flowers in a vase in the middle of the counter. 

“Because I fucked up,” he said, meeting your eyes again. 

You stayed silent, urging him to say more. 

“I should have called. I know that. And I knew that then, but I just didn’t want to hear your voice. I knew the moment I heard it, I wouldn’t even tell you,” he paused, his eyes leaving yours for a moment to watch the sun. “But I’m going to do whatever I can to prove to you how I feel. Because I’m crazy about you, and only you.”

Your hand gripped onto the counter as you played his words in your head, trying not to picture who this other girl even was, praying the image of him with someone else would just go away. 

You poured more wine into your glass, swishing the liquid soft back and forth as Shawn waited for you to say something.

“I’m trying, Shawn,” you said softly. “I’m trying to start over, but it’s hard.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “And I know that’s my fault, and I’ll do whatever I can to make it right.”

You sat in silence staring down at your hands. You had a million other things to shoot back at him. Like how you were drunk one night and couldn’t stop thinking about him so you cried until you threw up. Or the fact that your roommate hates the name Shawn just because of what she had to deal with the last school year. Or how you almost blocked his phone number just so you could blame that on the lack of calls. 

But that all fell short when his hand came into your downward-facing view, delicately setting it atop yours, forcing you to look back up at him as he laced his with yours, the sparks returning. 

“Ok,” you whispered, not having the heart to say anything else. 

With that, Shawn nodded his head and took your plate from you, bringing your dishes to the sink to wash them quickly. You poured the two of you another glass, noticing how quickly the bottle of wine had slipped away as you felt light. 

Without another word, Shawn opened the back door, and you stood up to follow him out, handing him his glass as the two of you sat down on the swing on your back porch. You weren’t really thinking as you swung your legs over his, his hand resting on your knees as you rested your head on his shoulder, your body curling around his. 

You could feel Shawn looking down at you as you watched the sunset. You let out a breath before looking up at him, his nose nearly brushing against yours as his thumb rubbed circles into your knee, his other arm around you, still gripping his wine glass. 

“I forgive you,” you whispered without so much as a second thought, just saying whatever came to mind. 

Shawn didn’t hesitate to press his lips against yours. Your hand found its way to his cheek, pulling his face closer to yours before you pulled back, your forehead resting against his. 

“I missed that,” he said softly, nudging his nose against yours before pressing another quick kiss to your lips. 

You simply hummed in response, leaning your head on his shoulder once again, moving closer to him to the point where you were almost completely on his lap. 

Both of your glasses were abandoned onto the table in front of you as you fully curled into him, feeling like it was last summer all over again. 

The feeling of his finger drawing patterns on your shoulder was more intoxicating than the half bottle of wine you’d drank. 

“Can you stay?” You asked as you looked up at him. 

He smiled a soft smile that made your heart leap as he nodded his head. 

“Of course.”

You woke up the next morning twisted in bedsheets as his arm weighed on your waist and your legs tangled together. 

You turned in his arms, causing him to wake up as you traced your finger down his jaw. 

“Do you work?” You whispered. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he said sarcastically as he blinked the tiredness out of his eyes. 

“Good morning,” you said. “So do you work?”

He smiled at you and shook his head. 

“No, I’m off today.”

“Me too.”

“But we have that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The festival downtown. Everyone is going tonight,” Shawn reminded you. 

You groaned as you buried your head into his chest as he laughed at you. 

“I forgot I promised I’d go,” you mumbled. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” he encouraged. 

You looked up at him before he continued. 

“And I’ll be there, and that’s really all you need,” he said with a grin. 

You hit his chest softly before rolling out of bed and tossing a pillow in his face. He caught it before it could actually hit him and tossed it to the end of the bed. He sat up against the headboard, watching you gather a few things around your room to get ready. 

You turned to meet his wandering eyes as he smiled at you. 

“Go home,” you said simply. 

His jaw dropped in a joking manner as he cuddled into the sheets instead. 

“No,” he mumbled. 

“Well, I’m going to go get ready. Whether you’re here or not when I’m back, I really don’t care,” you whispered before you pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“You’re breaking my heart, [Y/L/N],” he called after you as you turned to look back at him once you reached the door to the bathroom, an eyebrow raised. 

“You don’t have to say anything. I walked into that one,” he said before you could say anything. 

You simply hummed in response before slipping into the bathroom and closing the door behind you. 

You got ready fairly quickly, trying to listen to see if Shawn was still in the room or not. You slipped on the sundress you had picked out and opened the bathroom door to an empty room. 

But that was long abandoned once you saw him sitting on the balcony. 

He must have heard the door open, so he turned around to look at you and smiled. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he said softly as you walked up to him. 

“Mm, I know,” you said as you sat next to him. 

“You’re making this hard,” he said through a laugh. 

“I know,” you said, this time a little sterner before he rolled his eyes and stood up. 

“Well, I made you coffee. It’s sitting on the counter downstairs. I’ll pick you up in a few hours?” He asked as he stood up and walked back into the room and you followed. 

“Maybe not,” you said slowly. 

He turned around and shot you a confused look. 

“I can just meet you there,” you said as casually as you could, running your hand against the back of the chair to distract yourself. 

You heard him snicker and could see him shaking his head out of the corner of your eye. 

“You don’t want anyone to know,” he said quietly. 

You finally looked up to meet his eyes, seeing the hurt from across the room, but you didn’t falter. 

“I’m still figuring things out,” you started. “And everyone knew last summer which made it that much harder when they asked about you.”

He nodded his head in response, looking down at his feet. 

“I just think it should stay between us right now,” you whispered. 

“Will that change?” He asked softly. 

You shrugged your shoulders and crinkled your nose as Shawn just nodded. 

“Then I’ll see you there,” he said with a sad smile as he walked out of your room. 

You waited a moment before following after him, meeting him at the front door as he slipped his shoes on. 

You were face to face as he stood up, and you stood on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips before resting your forehead against yours. 

“I trust you,” you whispered. 

“I know,” he said back at the same volume. “I trust you, too.”

Without another word and a quick hand squeeze, Shawn walked out and went home. 

You leaned your back against the door, hitting your head against it a little too hard, overthinking what just happened. You shook the feeling quickly as you found the mug he had set out for you on the kitchen counter, sipping it and instantly knowing he still knew how to make your coffee. You faltered yet again in your thinking but still didn’t change your mind. 

You grabbed your laptop and made your way to the back porch to go through emails you knew you had forgotten about, skimming through responses to your job applications for fall internships. 

You deleted a bunch, most of them saying they were still in the interview process until one caught your eye. 

You opened it up quickly and read through it carefully. 

This was your dream internship, a year in New York City studying fashion. It started this September and went until the next. 

And you had made the next round of interviews. 

You shot your parents and your best friend a quick text with an update and emailed them back with your available times within the next week, quickly setting out the times in your planner. 

You tried to calm your beating heart, trying to not let your hopes get up only to come crashing down once you didn’t get it. 

You weren’t even sure you’d make it this far, and now you’re at the final stage of phone interviews before you fly out to New York for the final interview at the end of August. 

You let Shawn wander back into your head again after you sent the email back to them. The lingering thought of not spending next summer with him stuck in your head, but you pushed it back. You were putting you first. This was a big deal, and you wouldn’t let the thought of Shawn ruin it. 

You had to remind yourself continuously how different this summer was from last summer. You weren’t the same, and you knew he wasn’t either. 

Your thoughts made you lose track of time, the reminder on your phone popping up and reminding you to leave. 

You parked your car behind the mall across the street from the summer festival and walked over to the sign everyone was meeting at. 

Shawn was already there, and you smiled at him quickly before standing over by Scotty. Shawn was across the circle from you as he kept his eyes on you. You shot him a look, and he rolled his eyes before turning to whoever was next to him. 

When you looked at Scotty, he was already looking at you, his eyebrows shot up. 

“I did not see what I think I just saw,” he said through a forced smile. 

“You’re right, you didn’t,” you said with the same smile. 

He sighed before you all started walking to the games. You bought some tickets and made your way to the ring toss along with another one of your coworkers Sydney. 

Shawn walked up from behind you, his hand skimming yours before moving away. 

“Bet I can beat you,” he said slyly as he walked backward in front of you. 

You scoffed as you rolled your eyes. 

“You’re on.”

The two of you stood on the opposite sides of the booth as Sydney cheered you on. 

Just as you knew you would, you kicked his ass. 

You tucked your new bear underneath your arm as the three of you walked to the next game. 

“Aren’t you embarrassed?” Sydney tested as Shawn groaned. 

“No one asked you, Syd,” Shawn shot back. 

You held in your laugh as you made your way to the food tents and Sydney wandered off to find someone else. 

It was just the two of you, and you knew Shawn was moments away from reaching for your hand. So you switched your bear into the other hand, blocking his attempt. 

You heard him sigh as you held your giggle back. 

You both bought some food, finding the others at the picnic tables in the middle. You sat next to Shawn and across from Scotty as he sent you another look. 

Everyone ate and talked as you listened to the live music being played. Bitching about customers as you sipped at cheep beer was one of your favorite things to do. 

You felt Shawn’s hand periodically graze against your leg, prompting you to cross them every time and push at his hand. You earned a scoff from him every time with a look of knowing disapproval from Scotty. 

“Where are you parked?” Shawn whispered in your ear. 

You rolled your eyes at him before glancing around the table and leaning back into him. 

“Behind the mall.”

Shawn simply nodded his head, dodging the look from Scotty and looking back to the band on stage. You let his hand graze across yours that time. 

Eventually your group made their way to standing with everyone else along the side of the stage, swaying and dancing to the local band. 

After a half hour, you felt Shawn’s hand press against your hip and his chest against your back. 

“Meet me behind the mall,” he whispered before his body left yours. 

You quickly turned around only to see his back as he walked away, making his way towards the exit. 

You turned back around to see Sydney looking at you, seeing the whole thing. 

You simply shook your head at her, hoping that would silence her for now, and you could talk to her later. And it worked, but you saw the look of worry in her eyes. She was another one you’d call late at night and ask why he wasn’t calling. 

You waited a few moments before saying goodbye to everyone and slowly backing away from the group, trying not to get roped up into a conversation with Scotty and Sydney. You knew what they were doing. 

You hugged Scotty tight and whispered in his ear, “I’ll explain to you and Syd later.”

He pulled away and let out his breath of air. “You’re damn right you will.”

You waved at both of them before jogging towards the exit, your sandals and bear held tightly in your hand. 

The sun was setting as you rounded the corner of the mall to see Shawn leaning against your car, the sun illuminating him perfectly once again. 

“Took you long enough,” he said as he pushed off your car and stood in front of you. 

You looked up at him with a stern look on your face. 

“Both Scotty and Sydney know something is up because you can’t keep your hands to yourself for two seconds,” you said before unlocking your car and climbing in. You waited for him to climb into the passenger seat before you started it and drove home. 

“They’re your best friends. I’m sure it’s fine,” he said casually. 

You scoffed as you shook your head, turning sharply down your street. 

“You don’t get it,” you said before parking and turning to him. “They were cursing your name a few months ago. Telling me how they’d do everything to make sure we didn’t have to interact this summer. They were the people I called at 2:00 am when I couldn’t think straight. They’re not happy, Shawn.”

He stayed silent as you both climbed out of the car and he followed you inside. 

“I don’t know how many more times I can say I’m sorry for this last year,” he said, the anger rising in his voice. 

You slammed your keys onto the counter, making him jump slightly. 

“I’m not asking for an apology. I already forgave you for that. I’m telling you that I asked you to act normal for one fucking night, and you couldn’t even do that for me,” you snapped, begging your voice not to falter. 

Shawn leaned on the counter with his arms folded and his jaw set tight, staying silent. 

“I’m trying really hard, Shawn, and I know you are, too. But there are moments like tonight where I think you’re still just living for the hope of it all instead of thinking rationally for three hours,” you said, tugging at the roots of your hair. 

“I am trying, and I have changed. I would not have tried this hard last summer,” he snapped back at you. 

“I’m starting to think you’re not really changing for the better,” you said without a second thought. 

“And you’re one to talk?” he fired back.

Your face went emotionless as you stared at him. You could tell he regretted saying that. 

“You want to explain that one?” You questioned. 

He stayed silent, not meeting your eyes. 

“I’m just saying-“

“I don’t want to hear it. Just because I’m not taking your bullshit anymore doesn’t mean I’m somehow worse,” you interrupted him. 

You heard him sigh as he leaned his elbows on the counter and ran his hands through his hair. 

You took a few deep breaths, staring at the top of his head and waiting for him to look back up. 

“I went too far tonight, and I’m sorry,” he finally said as he looked up at you. 

You tried to hide the shocked look on your face, not expecting him to even apologize for what happened tonight. 

He rounded the counter, trapping you between him and the counter with his arms on either side of you, your arms still crossed. 

“We gotta stop this, [Y/N],” he said softly. 

You nodded, letting your head fall forward and rest on his shoulder. 

“I’m trying,” you whispered. 

You could feel him nod his head as he wrapped his arms tightly around your back. 

“Me too,” he responded. “And I’m going to start trying a lot harder.”

You stood in his embrace for a few minutes, listening to his heartbeat as he rocked the both of you back and forth. 

“I’m still crazy about you,” he whispered. “And that’s not going to change, no matter how fucking stupid I can be.”

You let yourself giggle at that as you pulled back and rested your hands on his cheeks, taking in this moment. 

You just nodded your head before giving him a quick kiss and falling back into his embrace. 

—

The next morning you jog into your shift with your hair half done and ten minutes late. You punched in quickly before pinning back a few pieced of hair in the reflection off a pot. 

“You’re late,” Syd said as she whisked past you. She set down her tray next to Scotty as they both looked at you with nearly identical looks. 

“I slept through my alarm,” you mumbled as you threw on your open and moved closer to them. 

“Is that a me or a we?” Scotty asked quietly. 

“Not important,” you replied, sorting the plates Scotty was finishing onto the tray. 

“Well, that answers it,” Scotty said as he raised an eyebrow at Syd. 

“Drinks tonight at Bobby’s?” Syd asked, refilling a few glasses. 

“Yeah, you have a hell of a lot of explaining to do,” Scotty cut in. 

You sighed as you boosted the tray up onto your shoulder. 

“Works for me,” you said before walking into the dining room and delivering the food to a family in the corner. 

Your shift went by quickly as the restaurant was way busier than usual. 

Syd helped fill a table full of glasses with you as you both tried to catch your breath. 

“Scotty and I were thinking of doing the drive-in after drinks, you in?” She asked. 

“Of course I’m in, I can’t believe I haven’t gone yet this summer,” you replied.

“Well, you’ve obviously been busy,” she teased. 

“You’re killing me, Syd,” you said through a sigh as the two of you left the kitchen to bring the drinks back to the table. 

A few hours later and you happily hung up your apron and almost skipped out the back door before running into Shawn. 

“Hey,” he said softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Were you late this morning?”

“Ten minutes, and I didn’t hear the end of it,” you replied, walking backwards to your car to keep talking to him. 

“Are you doing anything tonight?” He asked. 

“Yeah, kind of, why?” You asked as you leaned against your car. 

He shrugged his shoulders as he reached for the door handle. 

“I’m just not doing anything, but I’ll call you later, maybe,” he said before shooting you one last smile and disappearing inside. 

You pushed off your car and drove home to shower and get ready to meet Scotty and Syd at the bar. 

They were both waiting for you with a drink at a secluded table in the corner. 

“So, first, may I say, what the fuck are you thinking?” Scotty started. 

“No idea,” you said simply. “Not a single damn clue.”

“How’d he sweet talk you this time? It has to be different since he had a fucking girlfriend to explain,” he asked. 

You shrugged your shoulders, swirling your straw in your drink. 

“We talked that first night. Just about everything. And he was honest about it all, which I guess was a good sign for me. I said I’d give him a second chance, but we’d have to take it slow, and he respected that,” you explained.

“But I’m guessing it was no longer slow after like three weeks?” Syd asked. 

“Two,” you said back.

“Jesus Christ,” Scotty mumbled as he took a big drink. 

“Just please, for the love of God, be careful,” Syd said as she clasped onto your hand from across the table. “I can’t do this one more summer. This is the last one.”

“There might not be a next summer,” you said quietly as their eyes bore into you. 

“What?” They both said at the same time. 

“I applied for this fashion program in New York,” you started. “It’s literally the best of the best, and I didn’t think I’d get this far in the process. I have a phone interview tomorrow, and if they like me, I fly to New York for the final interview in August.”

“When does it start and end and everything?” Syd asked quickly. 

“It would start this September and end next September,” you said. “Thus eliminating me coming back here for work next summer.”

“Shit,” Scotty mumbled. “I mean that’s amazing, and I know you’ll get it. You have to. But it’ll just be weird.”

You smile softly at him and whisk your hand in front of you. 

“That’s an August thing. We have time before any of that,” you explained. 

“Does Shawn know?” Syd asked. 

You just shook your head, finishing the last sip of your drink. 

“Why not?”

“It’ll complicate things,” you said. “And I just don’t know where we’ll even be in September.”

“Not a lot of hope in that statement,” Scotty pointed out. 

“Just trying to be realistic,” you said quietly. “I feel like I’m just a summer thing. And if there’s no summer here, then there’s no us.”

Syd sighed as she leaned her head back against the booth. 

“I hate to say this,” she started. “Like it physically pains me to say this, but I don’t think Shawn would’ve gone through the measures to get you back and to keep you if you were just a summer thing. I saw the way he was looking at you, [Y/N], and that isn’t a summer fling type of look.”

You stayed quiet as Scotty nodded in agreement, choosing to stare at the table instead of meeting their eyes. 

“Stay hopeful, but be careful,” Syd reminded you. 

“I know. I’m trying,” you said. 

“Alright, this is kind of sad. Ready to go?” Syd asked as she slung her purse over her shoulder. 

“Don’t hate me,” you said with a scrunched face. 

“You are not about to cancel on us,” Scotty said, a hand on his hip. 

“I have that interview tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to risk sleeping in again,” you gave a weak explanation. 

“Fine,” Scotty sighed. “But I’m only okay with it because I want you to get your dream job.”

You hugged both of them goodbye before hopping in your car and driving home. 

You pulled our your phone the minute you got home, going to text Shawn that you were in for the night if he wanted to come over. 

You almost sent the message before hesitating as you remembered Syd telling you to be careful and Shawn saying he’d call you. 

You stared at it for a moment before shaking your head at yourself and deleting the text. 

If he wants to see you, he’ll call. 

You applied a face mask and sat in the living room to watch Netflix, periodically peaking at your phone just to see nothing. 

Shortly before midnight, you gave up and went to bed. 

You tried not to feel disappointed. 

—

You interview went as perfectly as it could, and you felt buzzed as you cleaned up your house in the early afternoon. 

Shawn showed up shortly after his shift was done with sandwiches from work and set them in front of you on the counter before kissing you quickly. 

“You’re in a good mood,” he pointed out with a smile as you unpackaged the food. 

You shrugged your shoulders with a small smile, taking a quick bite. You quickly thought about whether or not you should tell him but decided against it. 

“Just feeling happy,” you said simply. 

The call the next morning telling you they’d love to see you in New York in three weeks nearly sent you through the roof. 

Syd and Scotty came over that night to celebrate with a bottle or two of wine on your porch as the sun set. 

“And Shawn still doesn’t know?” Scotty asked carefully after you told them about the interview and the recent phone call. 

You shook your head. 

“Why not?” Syd asked. 

“I don’t want to get distracted,” you started as you stared at your glass. “I don’t want to get caught up in him and stumble through an interview or something. I think it’s just better if I focus on me when it comes to this.”

“That’s good,” Scotty said. “That’s really good.”

“Yeah, but how do you explain New York for a few days?” Syd cut in. 

“I’ll figure it out. Who knows, I might just tell him by that point. I never know with us,” you said through a sigh. 

You heard your front door slam as Shawn walked in, all three of you watching him walk with his head in his phone. He stopped at the counter and leaned on it as he finished typing something, his eyebrows furrowed. 

After a few minutes, he looked up and walked outside by the three of you. 

“Hey, guys,” he said through a sigh as he waved to Syd and Scotty and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before sitting down next to you on the swing. 

“Everything ok?” You whispered. 

He nodded his head quickly. 

“Yeah, it’s fine. Just school stuff,” he said with a quick smile. 

“What were you guys talking about?” Shawn asked. 

“School,” you said quickly. “Syd changed her major again.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Shawn said as he took a sip out of your glass. 

“Oh, shut up, Mendes,” she said with an eyeroll. “You’ve changed yours twice, and you settled on business. I’ve never met a man in business that I’ve liked.”

Shawn feigned offense as he handed your glass back to you. 

“Says the elementary education major,” he tested. 

“Nuh-uh,” she said quickly back, holding a band up to him. “Communications now.”

“Even better!” Shawn practically yelled. 

You all laughed as you leaned your head on Shawn’s shoulder, feeling him stiffen slightly before slinging his arm around your shoulder and resting his head against yours. 

Scotty sent you an approving smile as Shawn and Syd argued. 

You couldn’t ask for anything more. 

— 

The weeks flew by as the days came closer to your trip to New York. Your plane and hotel were both booked, and you doubled checked everything at least twice a day. You left tomorrow, and you couldn’t help but worry something still wasn’t in place. 

You guessed you could blame the fight you and Shawn were currently having on that. 

He had stormed out a few minutes ago, and you don’t even remember what started the fight but you knew it ended with you saying you felt like you were just a summer thing. 

The look on his face was one you couldn’t quite put your finger on before he told you that you knew that wasn’t it and left with his keys. 

You curled your legs into your chest as you sat on the shore, watching the reflection of the moon bounce off the water as you twisted the corner of the blanket in your hand. 

You heard the soft crunch of sand under shoes before you felt Shawn sit next to you. 

You didn’t say anything, sick of being the one who has to resolve the argument. 

“I shouldn’t have snapped like that,” he said after a few moments of silence. 

You just nodded your head, feeling too numb to say anything. 

“And you’re not just a summer thing, and I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like that. This isn’t the same thing it was last year,” he explained. 

You rested your head on your knees and took a deep breath, trying to calm your heart. 

“Ok,” you choked out. 

“That’s it?” He asked softly. 

“That’s really all I can muster up right now,” you said, stuffing the sob that wanted to come out to the bottom of your throat. 

“I just don’t know if I can keep doing this,” you said, letting a tear slip out. “All we do is fight, and summer is going to end and we’ll be right back to last year, and I know I can’t take that again.”

Shawn pulled you into him, and you buried your head in his chest, feeling his rampant heartbeat. 

“Please don’t say that, [Y/N],” he said quickly, rocking you carefully back and forth. “This is different. This is so different.”

“It just doesn’t feel like that all the time,” you said quietly. 

“I know, I get it,” he whispered, pressing kisses onto the back of your head. 

You left it at that, letting him hold you tightly as you stared at the water. 

“We’re going to be okay,” he reminded you as he pressed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. 

You softened at the gesture and nodded your head. 

“I leave tomorrow,” you said, remembering you never told him. 

“Where?” He asked. 

“Just going home for a little bit,” you said casually. “It’s just been weird not seeing my parents as much during the summer.”

“Yeah, makes sense. They’ll be happy to see you.”

You nodded your head, trying not to feel bad about the lie but knowing it was the right thing to do. 

“Need a ride to the airport?” He asked. 

You pulled back and looked at him, admiring the way the moon made him look before you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. 

You pulled away a moment later and nodded your head. 

“That would be great,” you whispered. 

Shawn pulled you back in, your lips crashing against his as he fell back on the blanket, your legs falling to either side of his waist as you couldn’t help the smile that wanted to interrupt the kiss. 

—

Shawn dropped you off bright and early at the airport leaving you with your coffee and a kiss. You could feel his eyes on your back before you turned around at the door and blew him a kiss. He dramatically caught it and tucked it into his jacket pocket. You watched his face turn serious as his phone rang, offering you one last wave before answering it.  You watched his car pull away before finally walking into the airport. 

After going through security, you found a bathroom to look more like a professional fashion major instead of a girl going home to see her parents. The guilt and anxiety in your stomach ate away at your insides, but you continued to convince yourself that this was for the better. 

Your flight was short, and before you knew it, you were dragging your carry-on behind you and searching for the sign with your name on it.

You scanned the email quickly with the details saying one of the current fashion interns would pick you up and bring you to your hotel before bringing you to the interview. 

You found a patch of people with signs, finally finding one with your name sprawled across it. Your eyes wandered from the sign to the person holding it. 

You let a laugh leave your mouth as the two of you made eye contact, and she smiled at you. 

“Inez Miller, you have got to be joking,” you said as you pulled her into a hug, and she laughed into your shoulder. 

“The second they gave me your name I knew it had to be my [Y/N] [Y/L/N] who I fashioned barbies with in the second grade, but I just had to surprise you,” she said as you followed her towards the exit. 

“So you’re currently in the program?” You asked. “What the hell? How did I not know this?”

She nodded her head as she dumped the sign in the nearest trash can. 

“Yeah, I am. It’s honestly one of the best things I’ve ever done. I have learned so much and have had so much fun in the process,” she said with a genuine smile across her face. “And you know me, I stay quiet on social media so I can soak in everyone else’s tea. And I’ve been far too busy to call anyone except my dad.”

You signed as you put your bag in her back seat. 

“You’re going to make this hurt so much more if I don’t get it,” you taunted as you climbed in the car. 

She shook her head at you as she started the car and dodged through the traffic.

“I’m not supposed to say anything, but I’m going to anyway,” she said as she looked at you briefly. “One of the candidates already dropped out. They’re down to three.”

“Holy shit,” you breathed out.

“You just have to beat one of them, and I think you have a really good chance. They’re excited about you,” she encouraged. 

“That’s still scary,” you said softly. 

“I know, hun. I did the same thing this time last year. But you’re phenomenal. Look at you in your lavender power suit. You were born for this,” she said. 

You laughed at her compliment and looked down at your feet. 

“But enough about that. You have to destress. How’s life? How’s Virginia Beach for the summer?” She fired questions at you. 

“Really good,” you said softly. “Honestly, it’s been different and a little weird, but I’m finally feeling good about that.”

She side-eyed you as she stopped at a red light. 

“There’s a guy isn’t there,” she said as she raised her eyebrows. 

You felt your cheeks heat up as you glanced down at his picture in your lock screen, flipping your phone over when Inez leans over to get a closer look. 

“Yeah, I guess you can say that,” you said slowly. 

“It’s complicated?’

“So complicated.”

“Come on, girl. You’ve gotta say more. We’re in NYC traffic,” she pried.

“We kind of dated last summer. Then he ghosted when he went back to school. Only to find out he started seeing someone. He came back-“ you started explaining before she cut you off. 

“Hold up,” she said as she held her hand up. “He ghosted you? After being with you for an entire summer? And then he started seeing another girl? And you’re about to tell me that you took him back?” She questioned. 

“I told you. It’s complicated,” you said through a laugh. 

“Oh dear God. What kind of bullshit did he pull for that to happen?”

“Honestly didn’t take much,” you admitted. 

“I knew it. You’re such a pushover,” she said as she shook her head. 

“He just does things to me that I can’t explain,” you said as you shook your head. 

“But if he does this again, I’ll be down there in record time to kick his ass,” she said, glancing over at you. “Just please be careful, [Y/N].”

“I am,” you said. “I’m well aware of the possibility that I won’t be in Virginia Beach next summer, but that’s a bridge I’ll cross if I get there.”

“When you get there,” Inez corrected. 

“We’ll see,” you said. “But enough about me, how’s your summer been? All work no play?”

“Ugh, don’t even get me started,” she said as she hit her head against the seat. “I love this job. I really do. It’s the best thing to ever happen to me, so I don’t mind that I worked full time with over time all summer. But beyond that, the other intern has been going through the weirdest breakup ever.”

“How so?”

“So they went to high school together, but never really knew each other then. She was the star of her high school, and he wasn’t. The way she made it sound, he could never get her back then. They went to the same college, flirted freshman year and started kind of dating at the end but not really. They went their separate ways for the summer and then she gets this job. And she didn’t tell him until she didn’t show up to school for the fall semester. He literally flew here to see her,” she said. 

“Oh my God,” you said. “This hurts even more knowing that this story isn’t going to end well.”

“You have no idea,” she said. “So they start dating long distance. She would fly out to see him almost once a month. Sometimes more. He rarely flew here, though. I’ve maybe seen him twice in the past year. So his school year ends. And before he goes off to some small ass town on the east coast, he tells her they should take a fucking break.”

“He tried that hard for nine months and couldn’t do three more?” You questioned. 

“Oh, honey, it gets so much worse,” she warns. “He’s unreachable for like a month. Then suddenly he’s messaging her again. And then he’d go missing, and then two weeks later message her. It was insane. Every time she healed, he sucked her right back in.”

“Oh, poor thing,” you said with a head shake. 

“My theory is that there’s obviously a girl back home which would explain the no commitment summers. I’m assuming the other girl knows nothing though. It sounds like this guy is pretty good at hiding shit,” Inez said. “And I’m not saying she’s not at fault, too. I just don’t think the two of them are ever meant to work, but they still keep doing this.”

“Damn. So you’ve just been dealing with trying to get her to stop talking to him?” You asked. 

“Pretty much. I work so hard to help her get over it, and then he calls her. And we’re back to square one. It’s like they’re stuck in high school.”

“I mean I get it,” you said softly. 

“I know you do. That’s why I’m telling you to be careful with this guy,” she warns one final time as she pulls into the parking garage of the hotel. 

You nod your head before climbing out of the car.

“Trust me. I’ve got friends breathing down our backs to make sure he doesn’t try anything,” you explained as the two of you walked in. 

“Good.”

After settling into your hotel room and listening to Inez ramble on about what she’s heard about your former elementary school friends, the two of you made your way to the office just down the block. 

She squeezed your hand once before letting you into the office and leading you to the interview. 

You swore you blacked out because it began and ended before you even knew it. 

You walked back to your hotel alone, feeling like you did a good enough job, but still almost convincing yourself you didn’t. 

You laid on the hotel bed in sweatpants and stared at the ceiling. You knew you had to go to sleep since you were supposed to go to the office tomorrow at 8 to find out if you got the job or not. 

But sleep did not feel like coming. 

And in perfect timing, your phone rang from your nightstand. You scooped it up and hit answer after seeing the contact. 

“Hey, hun,” Shawn’s voice came from the other line. You could hear waves crashing.

“Hey,” you said as you settled into your bed. 

“How’s home? How are your parents?” He asked. 

You swallowed down the guilt before answering, “It’s good. They’re good.”

“You ok?” He asked, being able to read you like a book even through the phone. 

“Yeah, just can’t sleep,” you said. “My parents wanted to get an early breakfast tomorrow.”

“Want me to stay on the phone with you?” He offered. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered. 

You put your phone on speakerphone and set it back on the nightstand, curling back into the covers. 

You could hear the gentleness of his breath with the waves crashing, and you wanted nothing more than to be there. 

“I miss you,” you said after a moment. 

“I miss you, too, love,” he said. “But you’ll be home tomorrow. We’ll get Sandy’s.”

“That sounds perfect,” you mumbled, feeling sleep sneak up on you. 

“Let yourself fall asleep. I can hear it in your voice,” he said through a gentle laugh. 

“Can you still stay on until I’m asleep?” You asked, letting your eyes drift shut. 

“Of course.”

You were startled awake by your alarm, quickly turning it off and staring at the ceiling for another moment. You took a few deep breaths, gave yourself a pep talk and got up to get ready. 

You pulled on your best dress and got ready before chugging a cup of cheap, hotel coffee. You walked quickly to the office and made your way to the waiting room.

You fiddled with your thumbs and tapped your foot as you waited for someone to come get you.

“[Y/N] [Y/L/N],” someone called. 

You quickly stood up and followed them to a conference room down the hall. 

There waited three people who offered you a smile as you took a seat across from them. 

“[Y/N], we were extremely impressed by your resume and your interview yesterday,” the lead person said as she looked down at the sheets in her hands, her expression unreadable.

“Thank you,” you said.

“So we would like to offer you the position in this year’s program,” she said with a smile. 

You pinched your leg and tried not to literally jump out of your seat. 

“I accept. Wow, thank you so much,” you said as they slid you an envelope.

“We’ll send these home with you. Just some preliminary paperwork, housing stuff and the basics. And we’ll see you September 2,” she said as they stood up to shake your hand and walk you out. 

Once you were out of the building, you called Syd immediately. 

“I got the job,” you yelled before she could even say anything. 

“I fucking knew you would!” She yelled right back. “Now get back here so we can celebrate.”

“Yes, yes, holy shit, Syd,” you said as you forced yourself to take a breath. 

“Bitch, go call your parents,” she said through a laugh before she hung up and you called the rest of the people you had to let know. 

You packed in record time, eager to get back to see everyone again. 

It wasn’t until you were on the plane that it hit you.

Shawn didn’t know.

It consumed your thoughts on the way home, and you felt the guilt hit you as Shawn waited for you with flowers just outside the airport. 

You hugged him tightly, burying your head in his chest as he rocked you back and forth. 

“Let’s go home,” he whispered before pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

You stayed silent on the way home, not wanting to fill it with lies about your trip. 

Shawn set your bag down by the door as you walked in and sat on the couch. 

“Ok, what’s going on?” Shawn asked as he carefully sat down next to you. 

“I lied to you,” you said quickly. “I didn’t visit my parents. I had an interview in New York for an internship program.”

Shawn’s eyebrows knit together as he looked at you and shook his head. 

“Why wouldn’t you want me to know that?” He asked, hurt evident in his voice. 

“I just,” you started before taking a moment. “I got the job.”

“Ok?” He said, still confused. “That’s amazing. I’m so damn proud of you, but why didn’t you just tell me you were going to this interview?”

“I won’t be in Virginia Beach next summer,” you said. 

“Oh.”

“And I was scared you’d try to change my mind or you wouldn’t want to waste your summer on me-“ 

“Stop,” he said, cutting you off. “[Y/N], I want you to be happy. I want you to follow your dreams. I would never do anything to prevent that, and I certainly wouldn’t leave you because of it.”

You hung your head as he talked. He didn’t even sound mad. He just sounded hurt. 

“I am so sorry that I gave you any reason to think those things,” he said as he reached for your hand. 

“I’m sorry, too,” you offered. 

He gently tugged on your hand, and you curled into his side. 

“Wow, fashion in New York?” Shawn asked as you nodded your head. 

You could feel his heartbeat speed up as you traced shapes along his shirt. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty insane,” you said.

“You’re going to kill it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head. “I’m so proud of you.”

—

The days ticked by as you consumed yourself with paper work and phone calls while trying to spend as much time as you could with Shawn, even if most of your hangouts consisted of you doing work during it. 

“I leave tomorrow,” you reminded Shawn as you laid on the beach to watch the sunset. 

“I know,” he said softly. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and willed yourself not to cry. 

“Let’s not talk about it,” he said, pulling you down and into his side. 

So you didn’t talk about it, instead letting yourself pretend it wasn’t happening as you enjoyed your last sunset of the summer. 

After a night of almost no sleep, Shawn drove you to the airport. 

He held you tightly in the lobby, running his hands up and down your back. 

“Call when you get home,” he whispered. 

“I will,” you said. 

He didn’t let go, simply holding you higher. 

You pressed one last kiss to his lips before walking to security, not turning around in fears you’d start crying. 

Your few days at home flew by as you packed and prepared for the next year in New York. You were buzzing with excitement as you packed up nearly everything you had and shipped it to your apartment. 

You were lucky enough to secure a studio apartment to yourself since the other intern was from NYC and didn’t need housing. 

Once everything was set up, you pressed Shawn’s contact on your phone and fell back onto your bed. 

“Hey there,” he said as he answered, a busy street evident behind him. 

“I am calling you from my completely unpacked and decorated apartment,” you bragged. 

“Absolutely everything is unpacked?” He tested. 

“Ok, there might be one box in the kitchen, but I swear that’s it,” you said. 

You could hear his laugh, and it just made your heart ache. 

“You know, I’ve got space here for a visitor,” you said carefully. 

“You’ve sent me pictures. There’s barely room for yourself.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said through a laugh. 

“We’ll see,” he said after a moment. “This year is going to be tough.”

“That’s junior year, baby,” you said.

“It’s going to kill me,” he said. “I’m two days in and already swamped.”

“Well I’ll let you get to that homework, and I’m going to unpack my one box,” you said through a laugh. 

“Have fun with that. I’ll talk to you soon,” he said before you said your goodbyes and hung up. 

You pulled yourself out of your bed and found the one box left, filled with dishes and kitchen essentials. You tried organizing as quickly as you could just to get it done with. 

Once that was finished, you moved back to your desk and pulled out the newest stack of paperwork to finish reading through it before orientation the next day. 

Your phone buzzed next to you, and you answered and put it on speakerphone. 

“This is [Y/N],” you said. 

“Hey, babe, it’s Inez,” you heard her voice ring from the other end. 

“Ugh, I’m so glad it’s you. I’m finishing up my orientation paperwork right now,” you squealed. 

“That’s great,” she said. 

“You don’t sound nearly as excited as I do,” you said. 

“[Y/N], I have something to tell you,” she said a little too quickly. 

“What’s up?” You said, setting your pen down. 

“I know Shawn,” she said. 

You looked at your phone in confusion. 

“I never told you his name.”

“I know you didn’t. I saw a glimpse of his picture on your lock screen, and I wish I would’ve put it together way before this moment,” she scrambled. 

“Inez, how do you know Shawn?” You said.

You could hear her sigh on the other side. 

“[Y/N], there’s no easy way to say this, but I told you about the other intern, Betty?”

“Yeah.”

“The guy Betty was seeing was Shawn.”

You went silent as you stared at the wall. Piecing together the story in your head from what Inez and Shawn both told you.

“They never broke up,” you whispered to yourself. 

“Well, depends how you look at it, but that part doesn’t really matter,” she said before she paused. “I’m literally at Betty’s right now since I don’t start school for another week, so I decided to visit before I got swamped.”

She paused as you felt tears begging to prickle at the corners of your eyes. 

“He just showed up at her doorstep like she’d drop everything for him, and damnit [Y/N], if I could’ve called you right there I would have when it all clicked together, and I hated that I didn’t catch it sooner. Betty has no idea you even exist. She has no idea I know you,” she rushed out. 

Your tears began to fall as you buried your head in your hands, trying to hold back the sobs. 

“I’m so sorry, [Y/N],” you heard Inez say in the distance. 

“I have to go,” you said, hanging up before she could say anything else. 

You stood up and paced back and forth, feeling like you had nothing else to do as you tugged at the ends of your hair. You snatched the picture of Shawn off your desk and threw it in the garbage can without another thought. 

You should’ve seen this coming. 

You took a moment to pull yourself together before you called Shawn. 

“Hey, babe,” he said. “I’m kind of busy right now, can I call you later?”

You could hear noise in the background. Noise that certainly wasn’t his homework. 

“You know my friend Inez?” You said quickly. 

He didn’t say anything, but you could hear rustling as the noise slowly disappeared. 

“What are you talking about, [Y/N]?” He asked. 

“My friend Inez, the one I told you about from the New York program,” you said, beginning to pace again. 

“We might’ve crossed paths before,” he tried to cover. 

You scoffed, and Shawn knew he was done. 

“I know everything,” you said softly. “Every piece of it, Shawn. I know you’re at her party right now. I know how the two of you got together and how you just wanted to take a break for the summer.”

Shawn didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to figure out how he could possibly come back from this.

“Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll sort this out. [Y/N], I promise it isn’t as bad as it sounds. Please just-“ he paused and sighed and you could practically see him running his hand through his hair. 

“No,” you said before he could finish. “There’s no way you can spin this, Shawn.”

“Baby, please. I’ll call you later-“

“You were never mine.”

“Don’t say that, please. Don’t say that.”

“I wasn’t,” you snapped. “I have waited for you and forgiven you a time too many and to think this whole time I was just a summer thing when the real one was back at school.”

“You know you were so much more than that to me.”

“No, I don’t,” you yelled. “This whole time you played me like I was clueless. But I know everything now, Shawn.”

You paused, hearing his heavy breathing on the other end. 

“We’re done, Shawn,” you said. “Please don’t contact me ever again,” you choked out, the tears coming back. 

“Don’t cry, baby. Please we’ll talk-“

You hung up before he could finish. 

—

You buried yourself in your work for the next week, doing whatever you could to know the ins and outs of this place as soon as possible.

When anyone asked why you seemed off, you shrugged and told them you were just stressed. 

Scotty and Syd were each calling every day, and you stopped answering after the second day. Inez called a few times, and you ignored those, too.

You didn’t want to talk about it. You wanted to forget you ever let Shawn Mendes ruin you multiple times. 

After a night of staying late to help one of the head stylists, an opportunity not presented to many, you arrived back at your building at 11:00, taking your heels off the second you stepped into the lobby. 

You leaned against the wall of the elevator, closing your eyes for a few minutes before it dinged at your floor. 

You watched the floor as you walked. 

Until two feet stood in front of your door. 

You followed them up to see him standing there, bags under his eyes and one thrown over his shoulder. 

“Shawn,” you said, just louder than a whisper. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, the solemn look on his face speaking volumes until he cracked a half-smile. 

“Heard your room has space for a visitor,” he said, his eyes darting to meet yours.

You looked up at him, hesitating to let him in, but after remembering the time and his college across the country, you decided you didn’t have much of a choice. 

You moved past him, unlocking your door and leaving it open behind you. He waited a moment before walking in and softly shutting the door behind him. 

“I really don’t have the energy to talk about this tonight,” you said as you set your bag on your desk, turning to look at him still standing by the door. 

“Then we’ll talk in the morning,” he said. 

You just nodded, moving past him to go into the bathroom and get ready for bed. You shut the door and leaned your forehead against it, questioning why you even let him in. You let a few tears fall as you washed your face and threw your hair up. You pulled on your pajamas and took one more deep breath before opening the door. 

Shawn sat on the edge of your bed, looking uncomfortable. Your apartment was far too small for a couch, so besides your bed and your desk, you just had a chair in the corner. 

You didn’t say anything as you waked to the other side of the bed and pulled your covers back, pulling them back on his side as well. 

He took the silent cue and climbed in slowly next to you. A few inches laid between the two of you as you both laid on your backs and stared at your ceiling fan. 

You turned to your side after a moment, not wanting Shawn to take the opportunity to start talking. Had it have been any other night, there’s no way you would’ve fallen asleep with him this close to you, but after a long day, you drifted off to the steady sounds of his breathing, imagining for a second you were back to just a few weeks ago.

You woke up the next morning with a startle as you sat up abruptly after a nightmare. The sixth one you’d had this week. You caught your breath as Shawn shifted next to you. 

“Are you ok?” He mumbled. 

“‘m fine,” you mumbled back as you climbed out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen.

You downed a glass of water as you watched Shawn slowly wake up and sit up, his eyes scanning over your pictures along your wall. You watched his eyes settle on one of the two of you that you hadn’t had the time to replace yet. 

You moved back into the main room, sitting in the chair in the corner and pulling your feet underneath you. 

“I’ve decided that I don’t want to talk,” you said with confidence as Shawn’s face dropped. 

He moved to say something, but you cut him off before he could. 

“I won’t be the other woman. I won’t be the second choice. I shouldn’t have to give you any other reason,” you said. 

Shawn simply nodded his head. You tried to ignore his eyes beginning to turn red. 

“I think you should go,” you choked out. 

Shawn got up slowly, grabbing his backpack and moving to the door. You followed closely behind him. He turned the doorknob before turning back to you. 

“I know I have begged for a second chance a time too many, but I promise this’ll be the last time I ever need one,” he said desperately, a tear falling. 

You let out a breath before reaching forward and grabbing his hand softly one last time and giving it a gentle squeeze before you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“You know I can’t do that,” you said as you faced him again. 

Shawn nodded and walked out the door. You leaned against the doorframe as he began to walk away. 

“Shawn,” you said before you could stop yourself. He turned around, a desperate look still in his eyes. 

“I did love you,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “And maybe one day, I’ll be able to again. But that’s up to you at this point.”

He nodded his head almost frantically as his hand gripped his backpack desperately. 

“Goodbye, Shawn,” you said, him waving back, not trusting his voice before you slipped back into your apartment. 

You leaned against the door, your head hitting it softly. 

The tugging in your heart stopped, and your head stopped racing. 

You felt content. 

—

It felt refreshing to wake up to the sound of gentle waves in the morning. You sat up in bed for a moment, admiring the morning light with the mixture of the reflection of the Christmas lights. You could hear your mom and dad bustling in the kitchen to make Christmas Eve breakfast for just the three of you before your extended family came over for dinner.

You pulled yourself out of bed and threw on a cardigan before meeting your parents in the kitchen, sitting down at the island, and biting into a piece of bacon. 

You stood up and walked to the sliding doors, wanting to watch the shore while you drank your coffee. 

But once your eyes scanned the shore, you were met with an unmistakable figure. 

You set your coffee down and curled your sweater tighter to you as you opened the door and walked across the broken cobblestones, sitting down next to him. He turned to you after a second, offering you a soft smile. 

“Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said. 

“Change of plans this year,” you returned. 

“I always liked your view better,” he said, gesturing to the shore. 

“I know.”

There was no worry in your heart anymore. You were able to sit next to him like it was the first time, yet like he was a completely different person, yet like you’d known him your whole life. 

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling him relax underneath your touch. 

“I haven’t talked to her since that night,” Shawn said. “I told her everything, and I ended things. I’ve done a lot of thinking these past few months, and I know where I stand.”

He paused, looking down at you as your eyes stayed glued to the waves. 

“I always wanted her in high school, a child-like crush, really. So when college came around and she’d want to be with me, I’d go back to this idealized version of my high school self when I should’ve been a freaking adult. It’s like I could finally be the guy she wanted to be with,” he started to explain. 

“I guess a part of me was unaware that I had grown up, that I didn’t really want her like that anymore,” he said, exhaling the stress pent up in his chest.

“I don’t want to be the guy who hurt anyone like that,” he whispered. “And I’m not him anymore. And I know that might not be enough and it isn’t an excuse, but I just need you to know.”

You nodded your head against his shoulder, not feeling the pit in your stomach you assumed you’d feel when you talked to him again. 

“You were never just a summer thing,” he finally said, the desperation evident in his voice. “You were so much more than that.”

“I know,” you said softly. 

You removed your head from his shoulder as you looked up at him. His eyes met yours, and you cupped his cheek, running your thumb across his cheekbone as he leaned into your touch. 

“You messed up,” you reminded him, offering him a soft smile. 

“I know,” he said as you could feel his smile against your hand. 

“You’re going to have a lot of proving wrong to do.”

“I know.”

You couldn’t tear your eyes from his. The look in them being more sincere than you’d ever seen them.

“I’m not him anymore,” he reminded you again.

“I know,” you said softly with a nod of your head. “But I’ve also done a lot of thinking these past few months.”

You felt his smile fall as you closed your eyes for a moment to gather yourself. 

“I love you, Shawn. And I think I always will,” you paused. “But I think we both need more time.”

He nodded his head as you withdrew your hand from his cheek. 

“I love you,” he said for the first time, meaning every ounce of it. “And I’ll be here if or when you’re ready.”

You nodded your head, standing up slowly before helping him up. You wrapped your arms around his torso and held him tightly as he wrapped his around your shoulders. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before turning around and walking back to your house. 

You turned around once you reached the door, seeing him watch you from the shore. 

You closed the door behind you and went to sit down with your parents. You could still see him from your spot at the table.

He had sat back down, and you could see the relaxation in his shoulders. 

You felt content.

—

As you packed up the last of your apartment, you took a step back and scanned the room, looking for anything you might’ve missed. You grabbed your keys and purse before shutting the door behind you. 

“Are we finally done?” Scotty sighed from behind you. 

“Yeah, yeah. We’re done,” you said as Scotty grabbed your suitcase and the two of you made your way to the elevator. “You didn’t have to come to help me move,” you reminded him. 

“Oh and have you move out on your own since the middle of September is inconvenient for literally every other human in your life? Yeah, what a great friend I’d be,” he scoffed. 

The two of you rode down in silence before setting the last of your stuff to be shipped back home. 

You walked up the street to a cafe for lunch before flying back home. 

As you began to eat in silence, you had to ask the question nagging in the back of your head. 

“Shawn was really good this summer,” Scotty said before you could even ask. 

“How’d you know I was going to ask that?” You asked with a laugh. 

“I can read you like a book, Ms. [Y/N],” he reminded you. 

He paused, leaning back in his chair and setting his napkin on the table.

“[Y/N], it was like he was a completely different person,” he said with an exhale, like he couldn’t even believe his own words. “I swear on my life, I actually enjoyed being around him. We hung out all the time. And he didn’t incessantly ask about you like I was afraid he would. He’d ask when you came up, but that was it. But it was still so sincere every time.”

“I saw him over Christmas,” you admitted. 

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he leaned forward, urging you to continue. 

“He was different, and I could tell. But I was so scared that it was just a front,” you said. 

“It’s not,” Scotty said simply. 

You nodded in response, running out of words.

“I never thought I’d be the one to say this,” he paused. “But if you told me that the two of you were together, I’d be thrilled.”

He rested his hand on top of yours. 

“He really has changed, and I think you need to give him another chance,” he said softly. 

—

You knocked gently on the door, the nerves in your stomach disappearing as you finally arrived. 

He creaked the door open and smiled once he saw it was you. 

“What are you doing here, [Y/L/N]?” Shawn asked as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m ready,” you said simply. 

His smile grew as he grabbed your hand and tugged you into his apartment, pressing your back against the door once it closed. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered. 

You nodded your head, leaning it to the side. 

“I’ve never been more sure,” you said confidently before he finally leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours. 

You separated moments later, your smiles coming between you. 

“I love you,” he whispered, his lips still centimeters from yours. 

“I love you,” you replied, pulling him in once more. 

“Take it slow?” He offered. 

“That never worked anyway,” you said, pulling his body tightly against yours as his lips met yours again, the memory of August drifting away into a moment in time. 

REBLOG. COMMENT. SHARE. SEND ME LOVE. SEND ME HATE. IDC JUST SEND ME SOMETHING. I WANNA HEAR FROM YOU.

Real talk though: i have so many origin ideas, side ideas and developmental things that go along with this fic so i want you to send me all your thoughts, theories and opinions to see if anyone gets where my head was coming from with how i chose to end it. so if you hated that they got back together or loved or aren’t sure PLEASE come talk to me!!

taglist (send me an ASK to be added - seriously please make it an ask, they’re so much easier to keep track of and i don’t want to miss anyone!) bolded if it didn’t work

@avaastra @pupsandducks​ @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @imsuperawkward​ @futuremrspcy​ @mariamuses​ @turtoix​ @fallinallincurls​ @c25905​ @under-a-canyon-moon​ @havethetimeeofyourlifee​ @nervousmendes​ @feliciaceciliamariajacobsson​ @haute-shawn @mendesficsxbombay​ 

(Please send me an ask if you were on my taglist but i forgot you! i lost a few and think i found them all but not sure!)

[pearl-blue-musings]

Perchance to Meet pt. 2 REWRITE

Hi y'all. I'm really sad I have to do this all over again because tumblr goofed up big time. I went to edit this for tags and cleanliness and then next thing I know boom it’s gone. I know it won’t be as good as it was when I first wrote it but I will do my best to recreate what I had. This is what I get for not saving it or not doing so when I TOLD MYSELF TOO 😤 again i’m so sorry and here’s my rewrite

Warnings: suggestive language 18+, i think that’t it!

Part 3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Aizawa Shouta is a simple man. Wore clothes that were best for him, always did his duty as a teacher and an underground hero. He was always able to do the right or best thing when it was necessary. Never afraid to back down from what needed to be done.

So why is he standing across the street on his day off from a place he’s been meaning to check out for weeks? He studies the business card in his hand that has the name and address of the building he’s currently staring at. Just for good measure he triple checks the address and store name-

“Personally Yours, Book boutique!”

Black almond eyes widen as Aizawa’s thoughts are perturbed by the loud blond next to him. He’s not sure why he allowed his best friend (don’t tell Hizashi that) to accompany him today to meet the intriguing bartender and bookstore owner. (Y/n) (L/n). That name and face has been plaguing him over the last three weeks from when they first met. The way her hair matched and reflected her personality, her amazing quirk, her willingness to make people’s lives better... 

The way her lips looked incredibly kissable and fuckable at the same time had left him with his hands down his pants many nights.

Aizawa looks to his friend as he sees Hizashi grinning widely from ear to ear, eager about what’s about to happen. It’s been far too long since the blond has seen his friend this worked up over anything, let alone a person! But he knew, deep in his friendly heart, that Aizawa would have done nothing if he didn’t intervene and tell him to go visit her.

“It’s about time you decided to go see her ‘Zawa. It’s been what, like three weeks?” 

“You don’t have to remind me.” Yes, he knew. Aizawa knew we waited two weeks and six days too long to finally reach out or do something. But could the world blame him? He’s a teacher and underground hero already looking for the next class of heroes for U.A.; the man hasn’t had a day off in far too long and now he has one. He can only hope that the lady he kept waiting would understand. But she had to, right?

With what seemed like forever, he finally managed to place one foot in front of the other and cross the street to enter the building. The outside looks quaint, almost too perfect for a bookstore in his opinion. It appears to be one story but there might be living quarters on top of it? Aizawa rolls his shoulders to relieve himself of any tension, turns back to his friend before he promptly goes inside…

And immediately regrets his decision. 

The loud sound that bombarded his ears was something he did not expect. Children. Toddlers maybe, but obnoxious nonetheless. He begins to question whether or not he should stay based on the loudness in the store. However despite the noise, he feels a sense of calmness and home-ness that he felt when he had talked with (Y/n) at the bar. The bookstore smells of cinnamon and vanilla, a combination he thinks he can get used to. The layout seems to be welcoming as well. In the middle, which he assumes is the check out and help desk, is a circular module that has different pathways leading to other parts of the store. Each pathway leads to shelves lined up with all kinds of books, lit above by medium sized lanterns that give the store its unique glow. 

Aizawa surmises that the store is an accurate representation of the bewildering woman he met a few weeks ago. Everything about the size, the layout, the aura reminds him of their plethora of conversations from just one night, and maybe more to come.

He approaches the middle desk in hopes that she would be near. Taking in his surroundings, he realizes that the bulk of the noise is coming from the back, which looks to be a cozy reading nook with bean bag and other comfy chairs surrounded by end tables and ottomans. He can feel the chaotic energy from where he stands.

Hesitantly, he pushes the bell near the cash register. 

“I’ll be right there!”

Stunned at the sound of her voice, he waits patiently but also impatiently for the woman that has been haunting his thoughts for almost a month now to appear. His eyes wander to the counter, however at that moment the sound of sneakers hitting linoleum comes closer to him.

“Hi,” she pants out, holding up a finger. “How, whew, how can I help you…”

She drawls out the last part as she finally sees who had called her attention. Seriously, couldn’t this person know that today was extremely busy? But her thoughts come to a halt when she’s met with deep almond eyes and scruff, even though she’s seen it once, could recognize anywhere.

“Aizawa-san?”

“Just Aizawa is fine. Looks like I came at a bad time?”

“Hah, that’s an understatement,” (Y/n) puffs out. Her eyes must be deceiving her. There’s no way he’s actually here. They had met almost a month ago and it was a meeting she’ll never forget. The hard-working woman is never one to make small talk with her patrons but something about him caught her focus and for the rest of the night and the most of these three weeks, was all she could think about. “Once a month we have a local daycare come in and bring their students to look and explore in the store! Helps them get better at reading and finding out what other things they may like.”

The man before her nods in understanding, unsure of what else to say. He had practiced this moment over and over but now that it’s here he’s unsure of what to do.

“I thought you were never gonna show up. But I’m really glad to see you not in a club, it feels more real I guess?” She paused briefly before beginning again. “I honestly thought I made up the whole thing, or that something was wrong with me…”

“No,” Aizawa interrupts, afraid to hear more. “It’s my fault. I’ve been busy with teaching and being a hero.”

“No I get it. I work two jobs too so I understand how busy you are. I’m glad you’re even here.”

The two of them smile at each other, taking in each others features in that present moment. The feel of familiarity reaches them once again, as if everything around them doesn’t exist and it’s just them. Most of the reason he’s never considered meeting anyone is mostly because of his schedule. Many would find it ridiculous how busy the man is but he cares deeply for what he does and bringing someone new into it would be a whole new level of stress he doesn’t think he needs. He’s married to his job essentially, and so it seems is (Y/n).

Their moment is broken when small hand tugs on the pant leg of (Y/n), stealing her eyes away from his. She looks down to see one of her daycare toddlers staring up at her. The little girl, Yuki, unfaltering in her gaze is clearly demanding attention.

“Oh! Hi Yuki, did you already pick a book to bring home?”

The little girl nods and proceeds to lift her arms above her head, making a grabbing motion with her hands. (Y/n) slyly rolls her eyes and picks up Yuki. Holding her in her arms, (Y/n) turns back to Aizawa.

“This is Yuki. She’s a little shy, soft spoken, but absolutely adorable. She’s also one of my favorites because she’s so quiet.”

Aizawa looks down to the toddler in her arms and doesn’t make any moves to approach. The toddler’s eyes widen at the strange man in front of her, eyes boring into his figure to take him in.

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

It takes all of the woman’s strength to not drop the child as her shoulders shake in laughter. Aizawa struggles to hide the embarrassment on his face by looking away from the scene before him. It’s not his fault he prefers to wear all black; it’s slimming and makes him feel comfortable. He’s starting to think that maybe he should have shaved and put his hair in a bun for his day off.

Once his heart has calmed down, he faces the toddler again only to see her being swayed back and forth by (Y/n) as she hums a soothing melody. He knows it’s not a possible thing but his heart skipped a beat at the sight. It was the most domestic thing he’s seen that actually makes him happy.

But at the same time he thinks about having one of his own with her and wanting to fuck her senseless against-

“So I’m guessing this is your day off?”

He stammers, “Uh, yeah. I was hoping we could do something today.”

“Hmm, do something as a date or do something as friends?”

He smirks at her sass, “I’m hoping for the former.”

“That can be arranged. I close early today so, meet me in front of the store at 7?”

“That sounds great, let me give you my number and-“

“Hobo.”

“Yuki!”

She promptly takes the child to the back and excuses herself from the desk. Aizawa searches around him for a spare piece of paper and luckily finds an unneeded receipt and a very purple pen. Once he’s done writing he sees her come back without the child.

“Sorry about that. But, ah, is this your number?”

“Yeah clearly.”

“Well geez, maybe I will put you as hobo in my phone just for that.”

“Please don’t.”

“Oh it’s happening.”

He rolls his eyes at her antics and smiles at her. He doesn’t know what it is, but something about being around her just makes him calm. “Listen, I don’t want to hold you up any longer than I have. But text me when you’re ready. 

“And maybe I’ll give you a night to remember.”

***************************************** He winks at her as he walked out and (Y/n) is left with her heart pumping in her ears. Did she really respond to what Aizawa said with “Oh yeah? Well I hope you do ‘cause maybe I’ll make those fantasies of yours come true. It has been three weeks after all.”? What was that?! She can’t just say she knows what he was thinking by the way his pupils had dilated a couple time, that’s too crazy.

Too weird, nope, she’s not weird at all.

Slapping her cheeks to re-center herself, she approaches the back of her store to meet with the children and her co-workers.

“Finally you’re back,” her co-worker, Kona, sighs. “Who was that? You were gone for a while so I know it wasn’t just another customer.”

“It was, um the guy.”

“Shut up!” he practically shouts, “he came here? After three weeks? Are you gonna see him? Please tell me you’re gonna see him?”

“Kona hush, not in front of the kids.”

He shrugs, “Oh sure, when it’s your sex life it’s all secret secret, but if it’s my sex life everyone has to know!”

(Y/n) slices her hand across her neck. “Shut. It!”

“Fine fine,” he whispers. “But you gotta at least tell me if he gave off daddy vibes at least. Big dick energy? Most guys like that do exude it.”

“You are so lucky I love you or you’d be fired.”

“You didn’t say no,” Kona whisper sang back to her. She did her best to hide the way her eyes widened at that but failed miserably.

Closing time couldn’t come quick enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

here’s the rewrite! @kiribaku-queen @therealwalmartjesus @prk-pyo

[raccoon-macaroon]

Two

A rooster crows. I stretch without opening my eyes. When I do open them, I see tree roots hanging above me. Pale morning light filters in through the open door. I yawn and rub the wolf’s fur, and she yawns back at me, her huge jaws shutting with a snap. I looked around the hut. It’s empty, but at that moment the door swings open and Muriel steps inside, holding three eggs in one hand and a chicken under one arm. He starts when he notices me awake.

“Good morning,” I say. I pull the fur up to my chin, feeling like I’m doing something indecent just by lying there. He nods, sets the chicken down outside, and crosses the room to the fireplace.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” I say, climbing out of the pile of furs and trying unsuccessfully to neaten them.

Muriel looks at me out of the corner of his eyes, brows furrowed. He’s cracked the eggs and they are sizzling in a pan over the fire.

“You remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Last night.” I feel the heat rush into my cheeks. Did something happen last night? I feel the wound on my forehead. It’s scabbed over and starting to itch. I knocked on his door. He let me stay. Then...he slept over there and I slept over here. I would remember if something happened. Muriel frowns at my silence. There’s dark circles under his eyes.

“Ah, I’m sorry. You didn’t sleep well because I took your bed.”

“No, that’s not what I…” He shakes his head. When the eggs are finished, he slides them onto a plate and sets it on the table. He moves to leave the hut, when he stops and turns back to me.

“You need someone to look at your head. I know someone who can help.” He grimaces, as if thinking of this person was unpleasant. “Eat your breakfast so we can go,” he said, going out the door.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” He freezes with his hand on the doorframe.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I really appreciate the breakfast, but…” Why was I so insistent? Why did I want him to eat with me?

“I can’t eat three eggs. I don’t want them to go to waste.” Clucking sounded from outside. “The chickens worked hard on these.”

Muriel turns around to look at me, frowning.

“Here.” I pick up the tarnished fork sitting next to the plate and cut one of the eggs sloppily in half. The yolk is runny and spills over the plate. I scooch an egg and a half to the far side of the plate and the rest towards myself.

Slowly, Muriel steps into the room towards the table. He picks up another fork and a bowl from a shelf on the wall, the whole time never taking his eyes from me. As if I will strike him if he looks away. He sits down across from me, forking up his share of the eggs and dropping them into the bowl.

Neither of us say anything as we eat. I glance around the room, trying to come up with a topic of conversation, but the room is so sparse it’s hard to come up with anything. There’s a little wooden figurine sitting in an alcove in the far wall. A bear, maybe? The paint job looks old and rubbed off in places.

“That’s nice. Did you make it?”

“No.” I think he’s going to leave it at that when he continues. “A...friend made it for me.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Do they live around here?”

His eyes darken. “No.”

“Oh.” We finish our breakfast in silence.

As soon as I step out into the sunlight, my head begins to ache. I groan and put my hand to my cut. All of the numbing agent from the night before has worn off. When I lift my head, I see Muriel looking over his shoulder at me. In his eyes I see...concern? Maybe? But the look is gone quickly.

“...name,” he mumbles

“Huh?”

“What’s your name?”

What’s my name? What is my name? Panic washes over me. How do I not know my own name? Did my injury cause me to forget? What was I doing before I woke up in the forest? My eyes dart around, and they land on a scrubby plant.

“It’s Sage!” I burst out. “Like the plant!”

Muriel takes a step back, surprised at my outburst. Then he nods and starts walking.

I look at his back as we walk, paying little attention to the forest around me. Did I really just make up a name for myself? And couldn’t I have picked something cooler? Well, too late to change it now. After several minutes alone with my swirling thoughts, I need to break the silence.

“So, who are we going to see?”

“An idiot,” grumbles Muriel. “He’s a doctor. He helped Inanna when she was hurt, once.” The black wolf whines at the sound of her name, pushing her snout into Muriel’s hand. He scratches behind her ears, and for a moment I think I see him smile. But the moment is gone so quickly I can’t be sure.

When we reach the edge of the forest, Muriel pulls his hood up. Inanna is nowhere to be seen.

“This way,” he mumbles. Fields slowly give way to houses, and then a town.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“Vesuvia,” he said. A bell chimes in my mind. I’ve heard that name before.

At the edge of town where the dirt path ends and the cobblestones begin, Muriel stops. He looks uncomfortable.

“Are you alright?” His eyes dart to me, then back to the city.

“I don’t like coming here,” he said.

“Oh.” Immediately I feel the need to alleviate his discomfort. But what can I do? I’ve never been here before...that I can remember. I glance down at his hand. My first instinct is to take it, but I smush the thought down. We only just met. That would be weird. Muriel shakes himself and keeps moving.

With each road we take, the city seems to get busier. Townhouses become businesses and market stalls, a handful of people walking in the street turn into bustling crowds. I try to keep my eyes locked on Muriel’s back. It shouldn’t be this hard, I think to myself. It’s not like he’s hard to find. But as the crowd shuffles around us, he seems to get further away. At a break in the crowd, I dart forward, grabbing onto the back of his cloak. He starts, turning around to look at me.

“Sorry,” I gasp, bending my head to hide my burning cheeks. “I was worried I would lose you in the crowd.”

After a moment he nods. “Don’t let go,” he says.

After a while, Muriel stops in front of a little shop. The sign on the door shows a mortar and pestle with a snake wrapped around it.

“Should be next door…” Muriel mumbles.

The building to the right of the little shop has a sign too, a raven with a syringe in it’s talons.

We stop in front of the door. I realize I’m still holding on to Muriel’s cloak. The door in front of us pops open, and a tall, red haired man with an eyepatch appears in the doorway.

“Oh, um, hello. I was just about to close up shop for a bit but...what can I do for the two of you? Eugh, that is quite a doozy of a head wound if I do say so myself. I assume that’s why you’re here. Come in, come!”

The space is spacious, but cluttered. Knickknacks litter the counter and shelves. Compasses, seashells, carvings and things I don’t recognize. One shelf is covered in just jars of black blobs. Books fill the rest of the space, shoved wherever they will fit. A raven lifts its head sleepily from a little nest on the very top of a shelf close to the ceiling. He caws at us and rustles his feathers.

“Thank you, Malak,” says the doctor dismissively. “Have a seat.” The man gestures to a little side room with a flourish. Inside is a little cot, a chair, and more shelves full of stuff.

I sit gingerly on the cot, and realize I still have yet to let go of Muriel’s cloak.

“Sorry,” I say, dropping it like a hot coal. Muriel shakes his head. He looks peeved, but not at me. He’s staring at the red haired man as he bustles around the room.

“So, how’d you end up getting such a shiner?” The doctor sits in front of me and rests a pair of glasses on the tip of his nose, brushing the hair off my forehead to examine it. When he touches me, I feel Muriel tense beside me.

“I don’t remember,” I say honestly.

“Whew, amnesia? Been there. How far back do you remember?” He’s holding my wrist now, glancing up at a clock on a shelf.

“I don’t remember anything before waking up in the forest.”

“Nothing?” said the doctor. His eye widens in surprise. “That is serious.” He thinks for a moment. “Well, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about that, but we can do something about that head wound. Though I pride myself in my stitch work, I’m afraid we’re going to need some more help for this one.” He grins at Muriel and winks - blinks? at him. “Wouldn’t want to mess up the face of your pretty lady.” The doctor begins rifling through the shelves for something.

Muriel sputters. “She’s not...can’t you just heal the wound with your...powers?”

The doctor stops and looks at Muriel.

“Er...ah, no, I’m afraid not. Not anymore.” He looks at the ground, but then smiles. “But! With a little magic-ing, in combination with this-” He holds up a jar of black blobs. “You should be good as new! Er, at least your head wound will be.”

“Julie?” A woman’s voice sounds from upstairs. “I’ve been waiting for-” A pretty woman enters the room. When she sees us, her eyes light up. “Oh, hello! I didn’t hear you come in.”

The doctor grins and presses a kiss to the back of the woman’s hand. “Always arriving just when I need you, as ever.” The woman gazes up at him fondly.

“May I introduce my lovely and magical wife and assistant, Keziah.”

[carewyncromwell]

Whew! Three drawings for the price of one for the POTC AU! The first two feature our new Pirate King Jules Farrier-Weasley @cursebreakerfarrier (flanked by Jacob “Black Jack” Cromwell Roberts and Orion Amari), and Cutler Beckett (flanked by Carewyn Cromwell “Carey Weasley” and Patricia Rakepick). The last one features the human form of our Davy Jones, Finn McGarry @theguythatdraws, with his One True Love Chiara Dalma, A.K.A. Calypso! These took a while, but they were fun to do, so I hope you like them.

Jules’s “tunic” is actually the same chemise she cut up while she was still on board the Artemis, as seen in a doodle on a previous post. Carewyn’s new uniform (which we’ll address in this part) is based on yet another of James Norrington’s costumes, this time the one he wears in the third Pirates film. Unlike the character whose role she roughly fills, though, Carey isn’t going to die unceremoniously in the middle of the damn story after getting this costume change. (Why no, I’m not bitter about the fact that Jack Davenport didn’t get more screentime and that Norrington didn’t get to be the Javert to Captain Jack Sparrow’s Valjean in the sequels the way he so could’ve been after the first movie, why would you think that? *snort*)

Now that we’re getting more into the Davy Jones/Calypso stuff, I can acknowledge how much I’ve changed from the original films’ depictions of the characters, as well as why. Personally I find the characters’ relationship to be a bit toxic and not as romantic as it should be. Calypso, being a goddess, could very easily not understand things like the passage of time through a man’s eyes, but the excuse she gives for why she wasn’t there to support her lover after all of the hard and lonely work he’d put in for her after ten years is just “it’s who I am.” I get that she’s a manifestation of the sea and not something you can pin down and all that jazz, but at the same time, it was cruel to follow her own selfish whims over considering her lover’s feelings. She presumably then also didn’t even try following up with Jones after he returned to the sea, as they aren’t able to sort out that misunderstanding before the events of At World’s End. (I mean, she’s a shape-shifting goddess of the sea, and she made him that way in the first place, so it’s not like she couldn’t have met him somewhere that wasn’t dry land.) I understand Jones couldn’t expect her to change her nature, and that’s fair, but it doesn’t make me like Calypso very much or feel much of anything for her relationship with Jones. And on the flip side, Jones decides to take out his pain at this misunderstanding (which he really should’ve tried clearing up AGES before the events of At World’s End) on his lover in the most spiteful, vindictive way -- teaching a bunch of pirates how to trap an immortal goddess into a mortal body that definitely has none of the power innate to her, presumably feels pain, and could even age or die. Rather than trying to quit the job Calypso gave him or even trying to figure out what happened, he decides to clip the wings of the woman he supposedly loves, all due to his own pain at being betrayed. So I don’t feel much for Jones as a character and for his relationship with Calypso either. In the end, when they quasi-make up, I didn’t think it was earned or that it was a good outcome for either of them. I do think there’s some tragedy in the situation, for they clearly feel deeply for each other, but their romance is really dysfunctional in my opinion, and I think it could’ve been handled a lot better if you wanted to make the pairing as romantic as the theme Hans Zimmer wrote for it. (As a side, take a listen to this lovely lyric cover someone wrote for the Davy Jones theme, it’s so good!) This is part of why I like being able to write Chia and Finn (the Calypso and Jones analogues in this AU) with a more sympathetic backstory, as well as some organic development for both them and their relationship while they’re apart from each other, which I kind of think was lacking in Tia Dalma/Calypso in particular.

Previous part is here, whole tag is here, and I hope you all enjoy!

x~x~x~x

Carewyn was perturbed by how fast an armada of ships from Port Royal caught up with the Flying Dutchman, once Rakepick had Jones send one of his cursed crew members with a message for Beckett. It was as though the head of the East India Trading Company had been waiting in eager anticipation of the Dutchman locating Shipwreck Cove ever since he gave her and Rakepick the mission in the first place.

Among the armada was the Clearwater, and Carewyn was shocked and a little happy to see Percy crossing over to the Dutchman from his ship and leaping off the gangplank to greet her. The youngest of the three Weasley brothers who’d joined the Navy gave her a salute for formalities’ sake, but he couldn’t keep the relieved smile off his face.

“Commodore Weasley,” he said formally.

“Captain Weasley,” said Carewyn in return.

As soon as they’d greeted each other, both of them loosened considerably. Carewyn opened her arms and brought Percy into a rather mannish hug, clapping his back the way Bill often did whenever he hugged his brothers.

“Jones’s men treated you well, I hope?” Percy murmured under his breath, his voice betraying some cold suspicion despite himself.

“Well enough,” Carewyn said softly.

When they broke apart, Percy was smiling a bit more fully. 

“It is good to see you, Carey,” he said, his faintly pompous voice nonetheless incredibly sincere, “though I’m afraid I’ll have my own ship to run now...”

Carewyn smiled proudly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. A Commodore needs a talented Captain in his fleet.”

‘I know how long you’ve dreamed of moving up the ranks. Even if the Navy isn’t what it should be...I’m glad that you’re living your dream, Percy.’

Percy’s brown eyes softened, clearly touched. Before he could say anything, however, a familiar, aloof voice interrupted him.

"A Commodore does indeed need a talented Captain...”

Both Weasleys turned to Cutler Beckett as he stepped down onto the deck of the Dutchman beside them. His small eyes were locked firmly on Carewyn.

“...as does the Admiral of the fleet.”

He materialized a folded letter and held it out to Carewyn. Her eyebrows furrowed as she opened it, before her eyes widened upon its contents and the royal wax seal at the bottom.

“I’d already had this prepared ahead of time, prior to your departure from Port Royal,” said Beckett with a cool smile. “I wrote to the King of how impressed I was with your dedication, ingenuity, and talents, and he was most pleased. When I requested you to be at the head of my fleet for this upcoming venture, he agreed immediately. Upon receiving Madam Rakepick’s letter about you initiating the search for the Tower Raven’s old fleet and using one of their own ships to guide us to our target...I knew that my faith had been more than warranted.”

His eyes narrowed slightly over his cold, satisfied smile.

“Congratulations...Admiral Carey Weasley.”

The “honor” the King had bestowed upon her, if one could call it that, made Carewyn feel ill for multiple reasons. Not only did she truly not, NOT want to fight the Pirate Lords and whatever ships they gathered together, but she knew that she had largely gotten the position thanks to the effort of Rakepick -- who had for whatever reason credited Carewyn for following the Phoenix rather than taking credit herself -- and Beckett -- who Carewyn didn’t trust as far as she could throw him, but couldn’t figure out why exactly he had so much “faith” in her. Was she truly that good of an actress to completely fool him? She wanted to think so -- and yet the way he looked at her, not unlike how Rakepick looked at her, spoke of him knowing something she didn’t. Sadly Percy, even if he had seemed legitimately troubled by the hangings in Port Royal, was not distrustful enough of Beckett to express anything but pride in Carewyn’s accomplishment, so Carewyn couldn’t talk to him or anyone else about her suspicions.

When she confronted Rakepick about what she wrote to Beckett, the older woman’s response was oddly coy.

“I already told you you don’t belong on this ship,” she said, her dark blue eyes locked firmly onto Carewyn’s with a murky emotion she couldn’t quite identify. “Now that you’re Admiral, you’ll have more power to command your own ship, overlooking the Dutchman as well as the rest of the fleet.”

Carewyn’s eyes narrowed. “So you wrote that so I’d get off the Dutchman?”

Rakepick’s eyes narrowed slightly too, becoming more solemn. “You heard Lord Beckett -- he’d already planned this for you in advance. Although my reasons are different from his, I’m more than willing to play along with his whims, if it means I get what I want.”

“And what is it you want, Rakepick?”

Rakepick’s red lips curled up into a cool smirk. “Now, Admiral...one can hardly expect a lady to answer such a personal question.”

Not long after confronting Rakepick, Beckett summoned Carewyn to his cabin on his flagship, a Man O’ War called the HMS Lion. Unlike any of their previous meetings in his office, Carewyn found the cabin completely empty except for Beckett when she arrived -- in the past, Percy or Rakepick had been there too, as well as one or two employees of the East India Trading Company. It gave her the feeling that Beckett wanted this meeting to be more private than the others, which gave her a terrible sense of foreboding.

“You wished to see me, Lord Beckett?” she asked, once she’d finished saluting him.

“Yes,” said Beckett.

He was sitting behind his desk, which once again had a map laid out with different model soldiers and ships littered all over it. There were also seven Piece of Eight coins lined up in a neat little row -- he was once again playing with the eighth, rolling it along his fingers lackadaisically.

“Word has come from Shipwreck Cove, from the so-called ‘Pirate King,’“ he said, his eyes on the coin in his hand. “She wishes to rendez-vous on a tiny island on the far side of Shipwreck Island at sunset tonight, a ways away from the Cove. No weapons -- just talking.”

Beckett’s eyes flickered up to Carewyn’s face almost critically.

“...The Pirate King...signed her name as ‘Captain Jules Weasley’ -- so she’d be an old flame of yours, would she not?”

Carewyn stiffened slightly. ‘Jules is the Pirate King?’

She covered up her surprise quickly, her blue eyes narrowing.

“Miss Farrier -- pardon, Mrs. William Weasley -- never commanded any affection from me. Although her father bid she court me, her feelings were always for my brother -- so much so that she followed him into piracy.”

Beckett’s lips spread into a cold smile. “Then it’s as I surmised. Governor Farrier expressed frustration that his daughter had not managed to ensnare your heart, as opposed to your older brother’s -- especially considering how much she seemed to enjoy your company...”

Carewyn could not figure out what Beckett was trying to suss out from this conversation and it troubled her greatly -- so she put on her best, coldest expression and lied through her teeth.

“Whatever woman I respected in the past is dead, now that she’s an enemy of the Crown,” she said harshly. “I know no ‘Captain Jules Weasley’...nor do I wish to.”

Beckett’s smile did not shift in the slightest. If anything, his small, dark eyes flickered in something almost like triumph.

“I understand your sensitivity to the matter. You truly do love with all of your heart, don’t you, Admiral Weasley?”

Carewyn’s eyebrows knit tightly over her eyes in confusion, but she did not reply. Beckett put the Piece of Eight coin down in the row on his deck and rose from his chair, moving over to the decanter of red wine on the side table so he could pour a glass.

“I saw you with Captain Weasley, before you left Port Royal -- and of course, your reunion on-board the Dutchman, earlier today. I also heard quite a few interesting rumors circulated among our prisoners from Tortuga, speaking of your honor and the respect you showed them despite their criminal status...even moving a woman into a cell with her husband without being asked, if I’m not mistaken...”

His voice was very aloof and was tinged with a bizarre fascination, like an entomologist might have for a rare butterfly he’d pinned to his wall. Carewyn felt like her heart was being squeezed, but she dare not say anything.

Beckett finished pouring out two glasses of wine and put down the decanter so he could pick up both glasses.

“It’s not something I’m familiar with, that kind of concern for others.”

He offered the glass of red wine to Carewyn, his eyes boring into her face. Carewyn kept her face as blank as she could even though she could feel the blood leaving it as she took the glass of wine from him, but did not drink it.

“...I did not mean to displease you, Lord Beckett,” she said lowly.

Beckett’s eyes flickered again with that strange satisfaction as he took a sip from his glass of wine.

“On the contrary -- it’s only appropriate, for a woman to have a gentle heart.”

Carewyn stiffened sharply.

‘No. No, no, no -- !’

It was one thing for Rakepick to find out, but Beckett to know -- did Rakepick tell him? No, she said she wasn’t really doing any of this for Beckett -- should she deny it, Carewyn wondered? But if she did, and he caught her in a lie, could that make it worse -- ? 

Her hesitation made Beckett’s eyes gleam with greater satisfaction than ever.

“Then I was right,” he murmured. “I admit, I wasn’t sure. True, your voice is higher than one normally hears and you’re smaller than most, but I know first hand that means nothing. And your military record...had it not been for me having met and employed Patricia Rakepick previously, I would never have believed a woman could be so skilled in battle and strategy, nor so aggressive. But when Captain Weasley expressed such interest in me having hired a woman, and even went out of his way to bring it up to you...my interest was peaked. All the more so when I found out how truly useful you are, as an officer.”

Carewyn felt like she was drowning in horrifying, icy cold water. Beckett knew she was a woman -- he knew she was a woman, and could tell anyone about it, if he so chose. She’d not only lose her position -- the one thing that she had left that she could use to protect Jacob, Orion, Bill, Charlie, and Jules...but she’d be cast out in disgrace, leaving her with nothing -- possibly taking Percy along with her for having kept her true gender a secret --

Her blue eyes had drifted down to the floor absently, but were not focusing on anything.

Yet...Beckett had said nothing of his suspicions to anyone. True, he hadn’t known for sure...but why would he recommend her to the King as an Admiral, if he’d suspected?

And then it hit her.

She bowed her head, casting her eyes into shadow as she put down her untouched wine glass on the side table.

“...What do you want from me, Lord Beckett?”

Beckett raised his eyebrows but did not respond.

“You very easily could’ve gotten both Percy and me cast out of the Navy in disgrace,” she said, keeping her voice low in an attempt to try to keep it steady, “yet you’ve kept me and even helped get me promoted, presumably because I’m so ‘useful.’ What use do I have, for you?”

Beckett gave her something of a patronizing smile as he stepped forward, coming up right in front of Carewyn so that his chin rested just shy of her shoulder and he could look at her face out the side of his eye.

“Isn’t it obvious? You are an excellent Naval officer -- a leader and inspiration to those who serve under you. You’re world-renown for your honor, your courage -- your passion. You prompt people to fight with you -- for you -- with a loyalty that even the King of England himself cannot boast. Were you a man, you would be someone I’d be very threatened by, indeed. But since you are a woman...I can appeal to your heart.”

Carewyn could feel his breath sliding past her ear and she couldn’t help but cringe. She stubbornly refused to look him in the eye, keeping her gaze firmly on the floor.

“I’m afraid my disinterest in the once-Miss Farrier was not a one-off thing, Lord Beckett,” she said very dryly. “Romance is not something I think about very regularly.”

Orion’s face rippled over her mind, making her heart ache. Oh, if he were there, in that room -- the thought of him seeing her letting herself get pushed around by the man who’d branded him and sent the Navy after him for piracy...it made her feel ill.

Beckett’s lips curled up in a slightly tighter, almost miffed smile as he pulled away just enough that he was facing the wall behind her rather than looking at her face.

“...Oh...no, Admiral...you misunderstand me. I know I own no part of your heart...but Captain Weasley, he most assuredly does.”

Carewyn’s head shot up so she could look at him, her expression stricken despite herself.

“Your younger brother is not nearly as useful as you, but he has shown great dedication to me, since I threw him a bone and ensured his promotion. It’s a loyalty I hope that you will likewise show me...especially considering that both you and he have been given access to information that few others have been...and that I would do just about anything to ensure doesn’t become common knowledge...”

Carewyn stared at Beckett, her shock giving way to cold hatred. 

“So that’s it,” she murmured. “You’ll hold Percy’s and my lives and livelihoods over our heads, to make sure that I don’t surpass you, somehow. How I don’t know, considering that the Navy is not part of the East India Trading Company, nor shall it ever be, but clearly you feel loyalty is something to threaten out of people, rather than earn -- ”

“The only thing one can really earn in this world, Admiral, is money, and therefore power,” Beckett cut her off sharply, “and I have no intention of losing either, now that I’ve earned both of which I’m owed!”

He turned to look Carewyn straight-on in the eye, their faces mere inches apart. Gone was any hint of attempt at gentlemanly poise -- there was a hard edge to his gaze, not unlike the way he’d looked at Jones, but because he was actually an inch or so taller than Carewyn, he seemed to relish the power he had looking down at her both literally and figuratively.

“You will use your talents to serve my interests,” he said under his breath, “and I, in return, will continue to reward you and your brother, by ensuring that your careers and lives flourish under me. It’s just good business.”

At sundown, Beckett and Jules met at the tiny island agreed upon. Jules strolled down the long, narrow beach toward the shoreline where they were to meet, Jacob on one side of her and Orion on the other. She’d originally wanted Bill with her, but McNully was able to persuade her that she’d look that bit more intimidating to Beckett if she arrived in the company of two of the most wanted pirate captains in the world, and even Bill had to agree. Jules was determined to stand between Jacob and Orion, though, considering that there was still a lot of tension between them.

Jules had been furious with Jacob, when she’d learned about the deal he’d struck with Davy Jones. Even if he’d originally planned to give Jones “a Cromwell” as in Charles or Blaise Cromwell -- two objectively bad people who had been largely responsible for Carewyn and Jacob’s abusive, unloving childhoods -- Jules was also confident in thinking that Carewyn would be horrified, knowing that Jacob was willing to enslave another person to Davy Jones, just to find her. Jacob refused to feel guilty for that, but he clearly was destroyed by the knowledge that his choice had put Carewyn in so much danger. It was apparent from the way he talked about it and the way his hands and shoulders shook with silent sobs that Jacob would’ve sacrificed himself a hundred times over, if it would guarantee Carewyn wouldn’t be harmed.

Orion, by contrast, hadn’t said a word since Jacob told them what was going on. Throughout the entire conversation, he’d had his hands clasped tightly in front of him and kept his gaze downcast, even taking time to close his eyes for long periods of time as if he were meditating. Despite his silence and his detached affect, his usually stoic expression and unsteady breathing betrayed genuine anxiety. At one point, Bill brought a hand onto Orion’s shoulder to try to comfort him, and Orion actually subconsciously smacked his hand away.

“I’m sorry,” said the Captain quickly, his voice very hushed and tense as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose. “Just...please, don’t touch me.”

Bill, Charlie, and Jules all thought they could guess how Orion was feeling. Although the others had forcefully shot down the idea that Orion was the least bit responsible since he couldn’t have known the consequences of calling Carewyn by her real name, their words had done little to soften the Pirate Lord’s brow. If Orion’s past behavior hadn’t been indicative of how deeply he felt for Carewyn, then the way he clasped anxiously at his own hands and shut himself off from everyone else at the thought of her being doomed to spend the rest of her life trapped on board the Flying Dutchman made it crystal clear.

“Orion’s always valued his own freedom more than any kind of loot,” McNully murmured to the three Weasleys under her breath, “more than anything, really. And if he cares about the Commodore so much...”

“...He probably couldn’t bear it, if she lost hers,” finished Charlie, bowing his head and closing his eyes as they welled up with pain and righteous anger.

As Jules, Jacob, and Orion approached the shore, they caught sight of three people standing in the distance. The man in the middle dressed in black Orion identified as Cutler Beckett. On his left was an older woman as tall as Orion with hair as ginger red as Bill and Charlie’s that Jacob immediately recognized as Rakepick...and on his right was Carewyn, dressed in a new yellow-trimmed navy blue uniform and a black tricorn hat.

The three pirates stopped five feet away from the Head of the East India Trading Company and his two female companions, a notable sting of tension prickling at the air. Jules tried hard to keep her focus on Beckett, but her eyes were drawn to Carewyn despite herself. Although her friend faced Orion -- the person directly in front of her -- with a hard, stoic expression, she looked so pale. When Jules glanced over, she noticed out the side of her eye that Orion’s unreadable gaze was also locked on Carewyn, even as he took deep breaths through his nose and his hands clenched absently at his sides.

“Well, well,” said Beckett, his eyes narrowing darkly upon Orion’s face, “if it isn’t my old friend, Orion Amari.”

Orion glanced at Beckett out the side of his eye without turning his face away from Carewyn’s. Although his face remained rather calm, there was a faint edge to his soft-spoken response.

“...I did not think you were ever much in the market for friendship, Cutler Beckett...considering it’s something you cannot buy.”

His gaze returned to Carewyn. Beckett glanced from Carewyn to Orion, his lips curling up in a very cold smile.

“Ah, yes -- you and Amari are old friends also, aren’t you, Admiral Weasley?”

“Admiral?” repeated Orion, taken aback despite himself.

“Yes,” said Carewyn, and although her response was very cold, her eyes pulsed with emotion that she attempted to obscure by glancing to the side in Jacob’s direction rather than straight at Orion. “By order of the King, as a reward for my work alongside Lord Beckett.”

Jules could see Jacob’s jaw clench out the corner of her eye. She too felt like her heart was being squeezed. Carewyn no doubt hated her promotion with everything in her, if it was something she’d earned chasing after them on Beckett’s orders. Still...Jules couldn’t express that flat-out, so she put on the strongest expression she could.

“...I suppose congratulations are in order, then.” 

Carewyn flashed Jules a look. “I don’t want congratulations from you, Mrs. Weasley. Or should I call you ‘Your Majesty,’ now that you’ve started playacting as a royal?”

Jules’s lips came together tightly when she saw how broadly Beckett smirked. The small man’s reaction seemed to piss off Jacob too.

“You will show proper respect to the Pirate King,” he said with a fierce look at the Head of the East India Trading Company.

“Respect,” scorned Rakepick. “Is that a word you can even define, Black Jack?”

“As well as I could wring your neck, if I were allowed,” spat Jacob.

“I’m surprised your ‘Pirate King’ would want a man in her company who’s so comfortable threatening a lady’s life,” said Carewyn sharply.

‘Don’t start a fight with her,’ she thought desperately, praying that Jacob would be able to sense her intent even with the act she had to play. 

Unfortunately Jacob, as smart as he was, was never the best at reading people’s emotions -- and so when his narrowed eyes shot to Carewyn, she could see a flicker of pain. She surmised that even if he clearly didn’t think she believed what she was saying, it hurt him beyond reason, to see her having to defend the woman who’d tried to kill him.

Orion, however, very quickly adapted to the new method of “conversation,” fixing Carewyn with a calm, but piercing gaze.

“And I’m surprised that a honorable officer such as yourself would be so comfortable in the company of those with no honor whatsoever,” he said.

‘You’re in danger,’ Carewyn surmised he was trying to say. Her eyes narrowed upon Orion’s face.

“I beg your pardon?” she retorted. “I fail to see how a pirate has any leg to stand on, speaking of honor.” ‘What are you trying to tell me?’

“Even I have more honor than a captain who would burn an entire settlement to the ground,” murmured Orion. ‘Davy Jones.’

“Jones follows orders, as do we all...something else a pirate wouldn’t understand.” ‘What about Jones?’

"Orders...from Cutler Beckett, or from you? From what I’ve heard, you were on the Flying Dutchman yourself -- hardly a place one would expect to find Port Royal’s greatest hero.” ‘You must get away from Davy Jones. Get off of the Flying Dutchman.’

Carewyn’s blue eyes narrowed a bit more. First Rakepick wanted her off the Dutchman, and now Orion? Yes, Davy Jones was dangerous, but at present she found him much less of a threat than Beckett...

“A true hero knows that his reputation comes second to the good of the others,” she said very softly. “As does a loyal officer.” ‘I can’t leave.’

Something in Orion’s dark eyes flinched.

“Your older brother will be very disappointed, to know you’ve sold your loyalty so cheaply,” he said just as softly.

Carewyn felt her heart clench. She knew he didn’t mean Bill -- and yet the thought of both her surrogate brothers and Jacob was a silent knife to her back. She didn’t dare look at Jacob for fear her strong facade would crack, so she kept her focus solidly on Orion.

“I would think given your own history with Lord Beckett, you’d know full well how valuable of an ally he is, ” she shot back quickly, feigning temper as best she could, “and how dangerous of an enemy, as well. Both I and the brother who chose to follow the law rather than spit in its face are certainly glad for his aid, in ending your reign of terror.”

‘I can’t leave, not with what Beckett has over me and Percy. And if I do leave, then you’ll be in more danger than ever...’

Her eyes bore into Orion’s fiercely as she begged beyond reason he’d understand.

“...You may tell William...that I am no Bedlam maid in need of saving.”

‘You can’t help me. I love you.’

Deep in the depths of his sparkling black eyes, Carewyn could see a flicker of desperation, almost like anxiety. Afraid that Beckett might notice the crack in Orion’s expression, or in her own at the sight of it, she quickly whirled on Jules.

“He is the one who should stand down,” she said, her voice hardening further in an attempt to obscure her emotions. “All of you should, unless you wish to face down an entire armada.”

‘There are 34 Man O’ Wars waiting out there for you,’ she hoped Jules would be able to discern. Even if she didn’t know an armada had that many ships, Jacob and Orion would.

Jules, to her credit, matched Carewyn’s act with her own cold gaze. “Don’t underestimate us, Admiral Weasley. Both the British Navy and the East India Trading Company have done that consistently from the beginning.”

“And now we have come to the end,” said Beckett smoothly. “Of you and the rest of your Brethren.”

The others all turned to look at him. He flashed Orion a look better suited to a cockroach before redirecting his gaze onto Jules.

“Tell your Court this,” he said in an aloof, condescending voice. “You can fight, and all of you will die...or you can stand down, in which case only most of you will die. I daresay the Governor could be persuaded to spare you from the gallows, if you threw yourself on his mercy...and if I were to be merciful enough to leave out your new position, in my correspondence with the King...”

Jules’s dark eyes flashed with hatred as she strode forward, coming to a stop two feet from Beckett so she could glare right into his face.

“There are few things I can tolerate less than cowards who resort to blackmail just to make themselves feel powerful.”

She didn’t look at Carewyn, but Carewyn could sense Jules was thinking of her, as she said this.

“We will fight. And you’d best hope that we will show more mercy than you would, in our place.”

The Pirate King turned on her heel and walked away. With some reluctance, Orion and then Jacob turned away and strode quickly after her, leaving the other three alone on the shore.

“So be it,” said Beckett with a cold smile.

Carewyn couldn’t look at Rakepick or Beckett at her side. Her gaze was solidly locked on the departing backs of her brother, friend, and love as they began to shrink into the distance.

She’d never been very good at relying on or having faith in others...but in that moment, more than anything, she knew all she could do now was put her trust in Orion -- in Jules -- in Jacob -- in Bill and Charlie and all of the other pirates on Shipwreck Cove.

‘Please...please, be careful. Please be safe.’

In that moment of helplessness, she felt her heart ache all the more, watching Orion walk away. She closed her eyes, trying to bring back the memory of him standing shoulder to shoulder with her on the Artemis -- of him lying in bed as she tended to him, when they were young -- but it was no use. The graveness of the situation was too dire even for escapism...

Carewyn clutched her own arms behind her back. They suddenly felt so much heavier...as if there really were manacles there she couldn’t hope to break.

‘...Please...please live.’

On the opposite side of the island, both Jules and Jacob noticed the silent tears that had streaked down Orion’s face...but none had the heart to address it as they boarded the jollyboat that would take them back to the Artemis and to Shipwreck Cove.

At the same time that the pirates and the leaders of the British Navy were meeting, Davy Jones had been left behind on the Flying Dutchman with Percy supervising the troops. Beckett thought that Jones was threatened into line by how many soldiers were still guarding his heart, but thanks to Carewyn, Jones knew that Rakepick had stolen and relocated it. Now that he didn’t know where his heart was at all, he knew he couldn’t afford to move until he’d found it again -- and with Carewyn likely leaving the Dutchman with her new position as Admiral, it was likely it’d take a while before she could smuggle him any more information she might acquire about that. For the moment, though, Jones had put that concern on the back burner, for the Dutchman’s arrival near Shipwreck Cove gave him the opportunity to catch up with the Phoenix.

As luck would have it, when Jones phased through the Dutchman and onto the Phoenix, the ship was largely abandoned, since the crew had all gone ashore to Shipwreck Cove. The only person remaining was a small woman with long white hair, looking out to sea over the deck. In her hand was a pretty silver locket in the shape of a moon, the lid of which was cracked open so that a sweet, tinkling music box melody played.

Chia Dalma closed the locket half-way through the song, her eyes closing sadly as she clasped the locket close to her chest. She straightened up in shock, however, when she suddenly heard the rest of the tune echoing from behind her. She whirled around, to be faced with a giant, hulking shadow with writhing tentacles sprouting out from his jaw, holding an identical locket in his claw. Anyone would’ve been terrified at the sight -- but Chia looked upon the figure with tears in her eyes.

“Finn,” she breathed. Her lips were curled up in a weak smile, just as they had been before, but the joy was stained with so many other emotions -- grief, shame, and regret.

Davy Jones regarded Chia critically as he took several plodding steps toward her. “You know I haven’t been called that name in years.”

Chia bowed her head. “Nor have I been called my true name in years.”

Jones tilted his head, trying to read her expression better now she was looking away from him.

“I had not expected to find you like this,” he said very lowly. “You’ve never taken on such a small shape before.”

Chia’s eyes flashed with righteous anger as she raised her head. “That’s because this form is one I did not choose to take. It was thrust upon me by the Brethren Court.”

Jones straightened up slightly. His eyes narrowed to slits.

“...Then they did not kill or trap you. They transformed you.”

His voice was as low and growling as thunder. Chia clutched at the sides of her arms with her hands, her gaze smouldering with resentment as she glared down at the deck.

“Oh, but they did trap me,” she said bitterly, “trapped me in this single form, which can’t do even half of what I should be able to. I’ve been able to use what power I have to slow down the aging process, but this body still feels pain. This body still feels strain, and weakness, and hunger, and exhaustion, and longing...”

Something rippled over her eyes -- something more ashamed and pained.

“...I never knew...how much time truly weighs on a human,” she murmured.

Jones’s expression grew much more grim. “An immortal such as yourself should never have had to learn that.”

“Should never have had to, yes...but...”

She looked up at Jones, her gray eyes pulsing with strength despite the pain rippling within.

“...why did you not tell me, how long ten years felt for you? I have felt those ten years several times over, trapped in this tiny, fragile, helpless body every single moment -- and it’s...it’s been torture. To know you took the job I gave you -- only coming ashore once every ten years, so you could help me with the burden of tending to the dead at sea -- when ten years feels like that, to you -- ”

Chia’s eyes flooded with tears.

“I gave you the position of ferryman because I wanted to spare you from death,” she whispered. “Because if I didn’t give you that role and give you some of my power, you would’ve died. I’d never thought that those ten years would feel so long -- drain you so much...”

Jones was quiet for a long moment. Then he brought up his claw to brush her bangs from her eye.

“It’s only natural that you saw things the way an immortal would. Time is no object to you -- ten years no doubt felt like a small price to pay, in the face of your life span. And...”

His eyes became a bit smaller.

“...it’s not exactly like I wanted to die and be separated from you either. Even though part of me always doubted you’d be there waiting for me, when I returned...even though I resented you for years because you weren’t there...”

A ghost of a smile flickered over his features.

“...I know I shouldn’t have expected you to see things as I have -- to change yourself to suit me. If you did...you wouldn’t be the goddess I fell in love with, would you?”

Chia smiled up at Jones, her eyes shining with tenderness.

“I tried to make it back to you,” she murmured. “When the Court transformed me, I tried so hard to get there, to reach you...”

She extended her hands, tentatively trailing them along his tentacled face. Jones seemed to tremble at her touch.

“I know of the danger you’re in, Finn,” said Chia seriously. “As long as Cutler Beckett has your heart, I know you’re beholden to him. But I have allies among this newest Brethren Court. If they convince the others to break my chains, as I’ve foreseen they will...then as soon as I am free, I will come for you. I will make sure you and I are never separated again...and I will make sure your captors suffer the consequences, for hurting the man I love.”

As her small white hands held his face, Jones’s face and frame suddenly began to morph. In an instant, the slimy texture, the tentacles clinging to his face, and his claw all vanished -- and there stood the tall, handsome pirate she’d fallen in love with so long ago.

Finn McGarry’s face broke out into a broken, soft smile. He stretched out his hand, caressing his love’s human cheek with more gentleness than his claw ever could have.

“Calypso...” he murmured.

Chia’s face broke out into a full smile as well. She knew she couldn’t permanently remove the fishy transformation, as it was something that had mutated Jones over the many years they’d been apart, due to his heartbreak and grief...but seeing him looking so much like his old self after so long...it made her currently human heart swell with love.

“Just as you gave me your heart, when you became captain of the Flying Dutchman,” she murmured, “so too will you always have mine.”

[atomic-taco-muffin]

The Lost Princess Chapter 12

I love this series okay?! Leave me alone!

Warnings: Fluff/angst?

Rating: SFW

(pouty Sora is my new favorite thing)

You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy had arrived in Olympus Coliseum. The four of you entered the Coliseum Gates, where two giant golden statues of gladiators clashing swords stood around the entrance. The four of you walked across the grounds and entered the Coliseum. Walking into the dim lobby, the cracks in the stone visible underfoot, a satyr was putting up a sign on the wall near an entrance. A “closed” sign was tied in the dark doorway and a large pedestal was placed against a wall near a lit torch. You and Sora walked up to the busy-looking satyr. 

“Um...” you said. 

“Good timing. Give me a hand, will ya? Move that pedestal over there for me,” the satyr said, not looking at you two and pointed to  the pedestal, still facing the sign on the wall. 

“I gotta spruce this place up for the game,” he said. You, Sora, Donald and Goofy walked over to the pedestal and attempted to move it, but it didn’t budge. 

“It weighs a ton!” Sora said. The four of you went to go talk to the satyr again.

“It’s way too heavy!” Sora said. 

 “What? Too heavy? Since when have you been such a little—” the satyr said as he turned around, expecting to see someone much taller. He looked down at you and Sora. 

“Oh. Wrong guy. What’re you doing here?” he said as he hopped down to your level and gaited toward Donald, who backed away. 

“This here’s the world-famous Coliseum—heroes only! And I got my hands full preparing for the games. So run along, pip-squeaks,” he said. Sora pouted and the satyr put his hands on his hips. 

“Look, it’s like this,” Phil said as he paced around. “Heroes are coming from all over to fight ferocious monsters right here in the Coliseum.”

“You’ve got heroes standing right in front of you,” Donald said as he crossed his arms. Goofy placed his hands on you and Sora’s shoulders, and the two of smiled. 

“Yup. He’s a real hero chosen by the Keyblade! And she has the power of a spirit!” Goofy said. 

“And we’re heroes, too,” Donald said, pointing to himself.

“Heroes? Those runts?” Phil asked shocked. He laughed loudly, slapping his large belly. 

“What’s so funny? We’ve fought a bunch of monsters!” you said. 

“Hey, if you can’t even move this...” Phil said as he attempted to push the pedestal forward, making no progress. 

“You can’t call yourself...” He tried pushing with his back against it, his hooves slipping on the floor. Sora crossed his arms sternly.

“A hero!” He wore himself out and sat on the ground, trying to catch his breath. 

“Okay, so it takes more than brawn,” Phil said as he stood back up. 

“Well, well, let’s see what you can do. This trial is tough. You got what it takes? You ready?” he asked. 

“I’m ready!” Sora said. 

“Me too!” you said. 

“Okay, kids. Let’s see what you’ve got,” Phil said. You and the others entered the Coliseum, where several piles of barrels were set up around the arena. 

“The rules are simple: Bust all the barrels within the time limit. Ready? Go!” Phil said. You and Sora took down all the barrels with seconds to spare. 

“Not bad! For beginners, that is,” Phil said. You and Sora blasted through a harder course. 

“Hey, you’re better than I thought!” Phil said. You and Sora soon returned back into the lobby. 

“You know, you two ain’t bad,” Phil said. Sora scratched his head, chuckling while you smiled brightly. 

“Looks like we’re headed for the games,” Sora said as he puts his hands behind his head, smiling. 

“Afraid not,” Phil said. 

“Why not?” you asked surprised. 

“Two words: You guys ain’t heroes.” Goofy counted the words on his fingers and became confused. 

“Come on!” Sora whined. 

“Wanna become real heroes? Start by mastering this spell,” Phil said as he gave you four the Thunder spell and you walked outside, stopping when you four heard a voice. 

“Rather a stubborn old goat, wouldn’t you say?” he said. 

“Who are you?” Donald asked. 

“Whoa, hold on there, fuzz boy. Wait, let me guess. You want to enter the games, right?” He walked over to you four, the blue flame dancing on his head. He stood behind you and Sora, placing his long-fingered hand on you and Sora’s shoulder. 

“Well, then, hey, get a load of this,” he said. A piece of papyrus appeared in your hand, much to you and Sora’s surprise. 

“A pass?” Sora asked. 

“It’s all yours,” Hades said. He started to leave after giving you two the Entry Pass. 

“Good luck, kiddos. I’m pulling for you, little shorties,” he said. The four of you ran back inside and talked to Phil, giving him the Entry Pass. 

“Hey, how’d you get this?” Phil asked. 

“Can we enter the games now?” you asked. 

“Well... I guess so. We start with the preliminaries! Some real weirdos signed up for the games. Better watch yourself.” You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy fought through the starting matches of the preliminaries. Afterward, you talked to Phil in the Coliseum. 

“You’re no heroes yet, but you ain’t doing bad. Lucky you came to me for coaching,” Phil said. He stroked his goatee as a soldier entered the arena. You and Sora stared at him and he stared back through spiky blond hair, his long red cape flying behind him, boots digging into the ground.

“Something tells me he’ll be a tough one to beat. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up facing him,” Phil said. You and the trio fought through more matches and spoke with Phil.

“Say, you’re better than I thought, kiddos! Wish he was here to see this,” he said. 

“Who?” you asked. 

“Hercules. He’s a hero if ever there was one. Too bad he’s off visiting his father.” You and the trio fought through more of the preliminaries and celebrated while Hades watched from the barracks. 

“Those little punks is your next opponent, okay?” he said. The blond soldier leaned against the wall next to him. 

“Now, don’t blow it. Just take them out. Specifically the girl. She’s a got a power that is very interesting to me,” Hades said.  

“The great god of the Underworld is afraid of a kid? Sorry, but my contract says—” Cloud said. 

“I know! You think I don’t know? I wrote the contract! I know it says you’re only required to kill Hercules in this tournament. But you’ve gotta fight that kid to get to him. Come on,” Hades snapped as he pointed to you and Sora, who was talking to Phil and scratching his head. 

“Hey, it’s like that old goat says: Rule 11: It’s all just a game, so let loose and have fun with it!” Hades said as he punched the air. “I mean, a casualty along the way is no big deal, right?” He smiled and Cloud stood up and walked away. 

“Geez. Stiffer than the stiffs back home. Still, suckers like him are hard to come by...” Hades said. In the darkness behind him, a large creature snarled. You, Sora, Donald, and Goofy finished the preliminaries and entered the final match against Cloud. Sora attacks with his Keyblade, while Goofy moves in with his shield and you with your dagger and your powers. Cloud swung his giant sword and knocked the three of you back. 

“That’s the best you can do?” Cloud asked. Sora slid forward and struck, but he dodged backward and jumped into the air. Cloud slammed his sword into the ground with unnatural strength, knocking out Donald. Giving a loud yell, Cloud surged forward and struck, knocking Goofy out before he can heal Donald. You did your best against Cloud, but being a recruit of SOLDIER, his experience was unmatched, and he knocked the wind out of you. He walked over to a kneeling You, Sora, Donald and Goofy unconscious around them, and he peered down at the you. Phil ran in with a white towel, but Hades stopped him. Cloud raised his sword and you closed his eyes, bracing yourself. Cloud lowered his sword to your surprise, and you heard footsteps behind you, turning just as a giant black claw crashed down on you. You and Sora looked up to see an enormous three-headed beast with red eyes growling over you two. Darkness emanated from its jaws, each of its razor sharp teeth bared. Sora gasped as Hades retreated into the barracks. 

“Oh, right, there was one other rule I forgot: Accidents happen,” he said. The beast moved in to attack you and Sora, but was pushed back by an incredibly strong man. 

“Herc!” Phil said. Hercules held back the monster, shouting to Phil.

“Phil, get them out of here!” he said. The five of you raced out of the Coliseum. 

“Whew, that was close! That was Cerberus, the guardian of the Underworld. Herc should be able to handle him. But then again, maybe not... This doesn’t look good. I hope Herc’s okay. Wish I could go in!” Phil said. You and Sora started to run back into the Coliseum.

“Kids, you’re not entering the arena, are ya? This ain’t just some match. This is for real!” Phil said. 

“I’m not afraid. You can decide if I’m hero material or not,” you said. 

“Me neither,” Sora said. 

“Careful, kids!” Phil said. Sora and company reentered the Coliseum arena, where Hercules had Cloud slung over his shoulder, Cerberus’s giant jaws bearing down on him, inches away. The beast’s ears perked up, hearing your entrance and you turn around, allowing Hercules to run Cloud to the Lobby, past Phil. 

“Kids, I got two words of advice for you: Attack!“ Phil said. Cerberus roared and stomped around the arena, sending large fireballs at you, Sora, Donald, and Goofy. Sora managed to stay out of the beast’s path, Donald sending Thunder spells at its three heads and you throwing your dagger at the beast. One of the fireballs headed Sora’s way, and he deflected it with his Keyblade, hitting the center head square in the eyes. The beast stopped, roaring, and attempted to bite him as he attacks. Backing up, Cerberus reared up on its hind legs, and dropped to the ground, sending a shockwave to the trio. You healed Sora with a Potion as the beast’s mouth foamed with dark energy. It moved forward sending dark matter spewing out of its mouth and into the ground. Sora rolled to dodge as the energy pooled and shot up from under him. Goofy, finding a way on top of the beast, sent his shield flying at the multiple heads. Sora moved in as it tried to bite at Goofy and knocked out the beast, which fell to the ground loudly. Later, Hercules and Phil were addressing you, Sora, Donald, and Goofy in the Lobby. Phil read from a piece of papyrus as Hercules stood with his arms crossed. 

“Thus, I do hereby dub thee junior heroes, and confer upon thee full rights and privileges to participate in the games. Further—” Phil said. 

“Hey! What do you mean ‘junior heroes’?” Donald interrupted. 

“You rookies still don’t understand what it takes to be a true hero.” 

“So, what does it take?” Goofy asked. 

“Well, that’s just something you’ll have to find out for yourselves. Just the way that I did,” Hercules said as he smiled. 

“No problem. We’ll start by proving ourselves in the games,” you said. You and Sora smiled, him lifting a fist proudly. 

“There ain’t gonna be any games for a while,” Phil said as he motioned to the “closed” sign over the arena entrance. 

“Gotta clean up the mess from that last battle first,” he said. 

“Okay, we’ll be back,” Sora said. He waved, and the four of you leave as Hercules waved goodbye and Phil stroked his beard. 

“I still can’t believe that squirt actually beat Cerberus,” Phil said. 

“Just between us, I’d already worn Cerberus down by the time the little guy jumped in,” Herc said. 

“My lips are sealed.” At the Coliseum Gates, you saw Cloud sitting near the exit and you and Sora walked up to him. 

“Hey, are you alright?” you asked. Cloud looked up to see you.

“Yeah,” he said. 

“So why did you go along with him, anyway?” Sora asked. Cloud leaned his head pensively on his hands. 

“I’m looking for someone. Hades promised to help. I tried to exploit the power of darkness, but it backfired,” he said. He stood up and looked to the sky. 

“I fell into darkness, and I couldn’t find the light,” he said. 

“You’ll find it. We’re searching, too,” you said. Cloud looked back at you and Sora. 

“For your light?” he asked. You and Sora nodded and Cloud moved closer to you two, placing something in Sora’s hand. 

“Don’t lose sight of it,” he said. He started to walk away, and Sora nods and you looked in his hand. 

“How about a rematch sometime? Fair and square, no dark powers involved,” Sora said. He moved toward Cloud, waving his hand in the air. Cloud turned his head, running a hand through his hair. 

“I think I’ll pass,” he said. Despite this answer, You and Sora smiled as Cloud leaves. With Sonic Blade in hand, You and Sora exited the Coliseum, the doors slamming behind them. Later that night, Hades stood in the Coliseum Gates, fuming. He held a Hercules statue in his hand. 

“He’s strong, he’s kind,” he said. The statue flexed his muscles. 

“He’s always there for you, and he’s handsome to boot,” he said. The statue crossed his arms and winked. 

“He’s perfect. Perfect. Perfectly infuriating! He makes me crazy,” he said. Hades turned red, roasting the statue. The hair on his head blazing hot, he exploded in a burst of flames. As the smoke settled around him, he caught his breath and returned to his cool blue shade. 

“Wait a minute. What are you worried about? All the pieces are in place. Relax. Here’s what you do. Let Hercules train the kids. In the next games, I’ll take care of them,” he said. He made a fist as the horned witch appeared behind him, her staff held firmly in her hands. 

“Who invited you to the party? Stay out of this. This is my show,” he said. 

“As you wish. Fight to your heart’s content,” she said. Hades smirked, nodding, before noting the witch’s tone, and scowling as she disappeared.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XXVI

After a few minutes of resting, the trio left the rest area and returned to the task at hand. They continue down the hallway and descend a short set of stairs. At the end, the three enter into a short hallway illuminated by red light. As they drew closer to an elevator, they heard a loud roar. "It must be close," Prompto muttered.

"Guess we've no choice but to face whatever it is," (Y/n) said.

Riding the lift, it takes them further underground. They step off and enter a room with red lighting. It wasn't long before they came across a large room with a tall ceiling. Inside the room dwelled a large half-mammal, half-magitek creature, the Unit SAS-0822: Barbarus. As it swung across the ceiling, they saw the remains of dead magitek troopers scattered across the floor of the room.

When the fusion of mammal and magitek spots them, it leaps down with a roar. Prompto readied his submachine gun and shouts, "Bring it on!" Aranea leapt into action with her lance in hand. (Y/n), deciding to make this a much fairer fight, transformed. Although her spiritual form was smaller than Barbarus, she could easily jump up and latch herself onto the monstrosity's body to knock it off the ceiling.

Barbarus climbed one of the walls and dangled from the ceiling. Prompto was careful with where he aimed his submachine gun to avoid shooting (Y/n) and Aranea. He pulled the trigger the moment his guardian latched onto one of the hybrid's metallic legs. A barrage of bullets pierced its body and caused its grip to slip. The fox unlatched her fangs from its legs before she could be crushed under its large form as it fell.

Aranea attacked the downed hybrid with her lance. (Y/n) inhaled deeply before exhaling a powerful breath of fire. The flames ignited Barbarus' white fur, causing it to go berserk and jump around the room in a desperate attempt to put out the flames. It managed to extinguish the fire before setting its sights on the fox. With its fists raised, it came barreling towards her. She nimbly jumped out of the way and sent a crackling fireball at it.

Seeing its attack failed, Barbarus climbed the wall and latched onto the ceiling. It froze for a split second to determine who will be its next target. Seeing Prompto was the one shooting at the hybrid from a safe distance away, it decided to make him its next victim. It swung itself towards the boy, crossing the metal beams attached to the ceiling. Once close enough, it released the metal beam and plummeted straight towards him.

(Y/n) was able to see who Barbarus was planning to target next before it even moved towards Prompto. By the time it landed in the spot where the boy stood, he was gone. The fox had tackled him to safety, using her larger body to protect his smaller one.

Prompto was tucked against the guardian's chest as she laid on her back with her paws in the air. He thanked her as he aimed his pistol at the hybrid and pulled the trigger. Each bullet hit its mark and caused it to stumble backwards. It fell on its back, leaving it vulnerable. Aranea didn't hold back and used her lance to pierce its body over and over again, dealing some heavy damage.

(Y/n) rolled over onto all fours once Prompto crawled off her body. She shook her body, tails flaring outward as she prepared to attack. Her eyes locked onto the boy's form when seeing him running towards a rack of weapons located against the wall. He grabbed one of the bazookas and immediately fired the three missiles loaded inside at the downed creature.

Barbarus recovered, batting Aranea away. The ex-mercenary grunted in pain when her body slammed against the opposite wall. Prompto discarded the bazooka and grabbed his pistol. He fired round after round into the soft parts of the hybrid's body. (Y/n) stood behind him, her many tails stretching outward as she lowered her body. At the tip of each tail, a fireball manifested. They were small in size, but large in quantity. They spun in a circle before being hurtled one by one at the monstrosity.

Once again, Barbarus' snowy fur was set ablaze. It tried to put out the flames, but was unsuccessful. Its entire body was consumed by fire, its fur burning away and gnawing at its flesh. The parts where skin met machine melded together, some components melting and becoming useless. With its body still engulfed by flames, the hybrid leapt around like crazy in a desperate attempt to hit any member of the trio. Roaring, Barbarus swung its flaming arms around and cracked the walls and floor.

Aranea charged at the rampaging beast with her lance by her side. She impaled its left mechanical leg and managed to pin it in place. Prompto and (Y/n) were quick to react, using their abilities to deal some heavy damage.

It wasn't long before Barbarus broke free from Aranea's lance and lunges at the guardian. The fox didn't have time to react because of its quickened movements and was pinned to the floor with one of its enormous hands. She yelped in pain when its grip on her tightened, cutting off her air supply. Prompto and Aranea were dealing blow after blow to try and save the spirit. However, the hybrid's grip didn't budge.

(Y/n) struggled against the hybrid in an attempt to escape and was able to use her tails to free herself. She encircled them around its wrist just below the large metal cuff and used what little knowledge of lightning magic to send a shock through its entire body. The surge of electricity caused parts of its body to malfunction and force itself to release her. She dragged her body away from Barbarus, air filling her lungs. She reverted back to her human form and summoned the Creator's Blade, her body leaning against it as if it were a crutch.

It wasn't long before (Y/n) saw Prompto running over to her with a potion in hand. He placed the curative in her hand, using his own to shatter it. She felt a wave of relief as her pain vanished. "Are you okay?" He worriedly asked.

"Yeah. Thanks for the assist," she replied.

When the couple looked toward Barbarus, they were stunned to see Aranea had dealt the finishing blow. She leapt into the air with her lance and used her weight to impale it in the back. The hybrid roared one final time before falling limp, the flames that once engulfed its body now snuffed out.

Prompto was relieved to see the creature was dead. "Whew, we made it out alive."

(Y/n)'s eyes focused on Barbarus' corpse. "Verstael really has gone off the deep end with his experiments."

All of a sudden, the room begins to shake. The three brace themselves to keep from falling. Prompto looked around in confusion. "What's going on?"

The facility's automated voice speaks out over the loudspeaker. "Unit XDA-1002: Immortalis. Plasmodic miasma transfer complete. No psychic obstructions detected. All systems operational. Activating Immortalis."

The (h/c)-haired girl gasped, eyes wide as saucers. "What?"

That's when Prompto had a realization. "It's outside!"

The three run back to the surface as fast as they could. Once there, they see what Verstael's grandest experiment was: an enormous magitek-powered machine resembling that of an annelida. In place of a head, it features an enormous cannon with seven rotating components resembling drill bits spinning around the core.

Prompto was horrified at the sight. "It's gigantic..."

Aranea runs off out of sight to acquire an armed snowmobile. (Y/n) dispelled her sword. "Dammit, Verstael. What the hell have you been doing...?"

"So that's the "new model"... And that means...he must be inside that thing."

Just then, Aranea pulls up beside Prompto and (Y/n) on a snowmobile with a large machine gun mounted on the back. "Hop on!" Prompto hops on as the guardian transforms. The ex-mercenary drives them away from the research facility with the fox close behind and the Godslayer in hot pursuit. "Ready for round two?"

Prompto grabs ahold of the gun's firing mechanism. "You bet!"

"You better keep up, firefly!" Aranea shouted to the guardian.

Verstael speaks from within Immortalis as he chases after the three. "Long have I waited to smite the world that denied me the glory I rightly deserve—and now, all shall tremble before me, man and maker alike! Even those damned guardians shall quiver in my presence!"

"If that's really him..." Prompto's voice trailed off.

Aranea kept her eyes on the snowy landscape ahead of them. "That maniac's taken "biological warfare" to the next level."

The boy glanced over at the fox now running beside them. He stared into her golden eyes, seeing her resolve and determination to take down Verstael. He nodded his head with his own determined expression and aimed the machine gun at the mechanical annelida. "Then (Y/n) and I want to be the ones to take him down." He pulled the trigger and bullets rained done on the machine's core. He kept the gun steady and focused on the head of the metallic annelida.

(Y/n) quickly glanced behind her at the large machine before looking ahead. Focusing her magic, she was able to create a large fiery vortex that swept across the snow towards the machine. Although it was large in size, it was weak. She mentally cursed the cold climate for weakening her magic.

Instead of using large-scale spells, she opted to infuse the machine gun with flaming rounds. She wished she could be of more help. Prompto watched the bullets spew from the machine gun, each one consumed by flames. They pierced the core of the mechanical annelida, causing some moderate damage.

Eventually, the Godslayer dove underground. It burrowed through the soil in a desperate attempt to catch up to the trio. The ground shook violently the moment it emerged from below a little closer than it was before.

"Down below!" Aranea shouted.

"It's enormous!" Prompto hollered as he continued to shoot at the Godslayer with flaming rounds.

"Fall to your knees before me!" Verstael bellowed, his voice echoing across the area.

The boy moved his aim away from the core and targeted one of the spinning components. When he noticed the flaming bullets were replaced with electrified ones, he gasped and glanced at (Y/n). "When did you learn lightning spells?!"

"Focus, blondie!" Aranea yelled.

"Right! Sorry!"

Under Prompto's unrelenting barrage and the magic infused within each bullet, a component around the head of Immortalis explodes. The machine wriggles before burrowing underground a second time.

"It ain't over," Aranea said. The Godslayer then emerges from the snow once more. "Three o'clock!"

Energy begins building at the tips of the machine's drill-like components. (Y/n) could feel the crackling of the energy, her fur sticking up.

"Incoming—look out!" The silver-haired woman hollered. The machine begins firing energy at Prompto, (Y/n), and Aranea. The boy targets the remaining components and begins dismantling them. "Sharp shooting, kid. Keep it up!" Aranea compliments.

One by one, Prompto disables all but the last of Immortalis' drill-like components. "This ends now." When he delivers what appears to be the finishing blow to the last drill-like component, there's a violent explosion and the Godslayer lifts high into the air before crumpling across the snowy landscape in a mangled heap.

As it lay in the snow, seemingly burnt out, the core of the annelida's head begins to glow red from within. The drill-like components become illuminated as well. Verstael's voice drips out of the machine as Immortalis rises and takes up the pursuit once more. "How can this be? I will not allow it!"

Hearing the man's voice, (Y/n) decided now was the perfect time to unleash her true power. She slowed down, causing Prompto to panic. "(Y/n), what're you doing?!"

Coming to a complete stop, the fox turned and faced the giant machine. She inhaled deeply and focused all her energy into her body. Her entire body became engulfed with flames as it grew in size. She now was a towering beast, the size of five Barbaruses combined.

Prompto ceased firing as the immense fox blocked the Godslayer from his view. His wide cerulean eyes bore into the flaming beast's form as it manifested a fireball half the size of Immortalis. With a thunderous screech, the guardian launched the fireball at the machine.

The moment it made impact, the Godslayer was severed into two. Combustion from the flames and impact resulted in an array of explosions. Verstael's voice resonates from the withering machine as a large explosion caused the ground to shake violently, the machine crashing to the ground in shambles.

(Y/n)'s spiritual form returned to normal size before she returned to being human. Her body swayed side to side, her vision slowly fading to black. She fell to the ground on her back, her body cushioned by the snow. She stared up at the sky until her entire world was consumed by darkness.

In the distance, Prompto begged Aranea to turn around. She did just that and they rode back towards the mechanical corpse of Immortalis. He hopped off the snowmobile and searched frantically for (Y/n). When he found her, he gasped in horror. "No... No, no, no!" He ran through the snow towards her body and fell to his knees beside her. His hands shook as he reached out to touch her. "(Y/Y-n)...?" It wasn't long before tears started to blur his vision.

Aranea said nothing. She remained on the snowmobile, watching Prompto with an aching heart as he pulled the girl into his arms. He cradled her head against his chest, burying his face into her (h/c) locks. His tears streamed down his cheeks and splashed onto (Y/n)'s. He rocked his body back and forth with her in his arms, sobbing like a child.

When Aranea went to look away, she saw (Y/n)'s hand twitched. She was about to say something when a groan fell from the guardian's lips. Prompto lifted his head with a gasp. He stared down at her face, witnessing her eyes slowly opening.

"Why're you crying?" She asked, weakly reaching up to wipe away some of his tears.

"I-I thought you were..." Prompto felt the lump in his throat from crying was causing his words to fail him.

She smiled gently at him. "I'm alive, Prompto. Just exhausted, is all. I used way too much power..."

He held her tighter, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. "Thank the Six..." He sighed breathlessly.

"I'm gonna need a long nap after this."

"As much as I would love to watch you two lovebirds hug each other, we best get moving," Aranea spoke up.

Prompto and (Y/n) stood up. The guardian, knowing there wasn't enough room on the snowmobile, decided to return to the gemstone. She remained there until they returned to where they left the other snowmobile. Standing beside Aranea, she stretched her arms towards the sky. "It's finally over..."

The older woman glances between the two. "You both all right?"

Prompto nodded. "Yeah. This is what we wanted."

"Then say it like you mean it. You and firefly did good, kid."

Prompto takes up a whimsical pose, and with an equally whimsical voice points at Aranea and (Y/n). "Couldn't have done it without you, gurls!" He takes back up a normal stance and a sober voice. "Seriously, though. Well, (Y/n) and I better catch up with Noct and the guys. He's got a lot on his plate, and I figure he could probably use a few extra hands taking back the Crystal and all that. And who knows? Maybe we'll take it back before he does!"

Prompto runs over to the snowmobile and leans down on it. Aranea walks over to him while the guardian remains put. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

"Honestly, I don't know for sure if they're going to accept us for who we really are. But we'll never know if we don't speak up, so we're gonna tell 'em." Prompto stands and turns back to Aranea. "After all, it's our lives to live."

Aranea was impressed by him. "The boy has become a man. Anyway, Gralea's straight ahead." She turns to (Y/n) as the spirit walks over. "Watch over him, firefly."

The (h/c)-haired girl smiled. "I always will."

Prompto and (Y/n) get on the snowmobile and prepare to leave. Before they did, the marksman calls out to the ex-mercenary. "Aranea!"

The woman smiles at him. "Yeah?"

He smiles back. "Thanks!"

Gripping the handles of the snowmobile, Prompto didn't take off until (Y/n)'s arms were securely wrapped around his waist. Once they were, he took off across the snowy landscape. The spirit pressed her cheek against his back with an exhausted sigh. Her golden eyes watched the passing scenery as they made their way to Gralea. Her mind was racing with numerous of possibilities, wondering what would befall them next.

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