#worked in a children's hair accessory store. someone wanted a hair accessory to wear to a black tie event

[celestiachan]

playing style savvy is not even a little bit different than real life retail. a customer will walk in and ask for something to wear to a black tie event and you can't say Ma'am We Exclusively Stock April Bonbon so you give her the first gold thing you see and she leaves without buying anything. someone will ask for a t shirt. you will show them a t shirt. they're gonna be like "ummmmm no actually" and leave without buying anything. someone is crying in your general direction because her boyfriend broke up with her. somehow selling her a dress will fix this

[thebunnednun]

Build a Boyfriend 🧸🩷

Pairing: Pro Hero! Mirio Togata x Build a Bear helper! Reader

Summary: Mirio takes Eri to Build a Bear and falls for the pastel goth helping Eri pick out a new cuddle buddy. After some intervention from the guys he stumbles into her registrar to find she's even prettier up close and thinks he missed his chance with her.

Until he finds her note.....

TW: Cuteness overload

On with the show!!~

The workshop was buzzing with the low hum of families, children, and the occasional burst of laughter as small hands sifted through shelves of soft, plush animals. The inside of the store was a bright kaleidoscope of colors—soft pastels, warm yellows, and gentle blues—all blending together to create a welcoming, cheerful environment.

Display stands were stacked with teddy bears, bunnies, and a whole host of other creatures waiting to be brought to life by eager kids.

At the heart of it all, the sound of stuffing machines whirring and squeaking filled the air, punctuated by the chatter of customers and employees. Soft pop music played overhead, further adding to the lively yet calming atmosphere.

A few young children were gathered near the sound booth, picking out voice boxes with silly phrases to stuff inside their soon-to-be cuddly companions. Others ran up and down the aisles with parents trailing behind, trying to keep up.

Mirio stood at the front of the store with Eri, his hand gently resting on her head as she stared wide-eyed at the rows upon rows of plush animals. Her large, curious red eyes scanned the store with wonder, her small hands clutching the hem of her dress, shifting slightly as she took in the world of soft toys around her. Mirio, ever the doting older brother figure, smiled down at her, eyes sparkling with excitement for her.

It was sensory overload for her, truely. And while he felt bad about it, Mirio would rather Eri get the full experience of picking out her snuggle buddy than choosing it fo herr. He wanted this to be a gentle push into feeling more secure and independent for Eri.

Plus, he just wanted to spoil her. 

“Alright, Eri, feel free to look around, okay?” Mirio said brightly, crouching down to meet her gaze, his grin wide and reassuring. “I just need to pop to the restroom for a sec. But don’t worry—Shinsou’s on his way, and I’ll be right back.”

Eri nodded shyly, her gaze shifting from Mirio to the endless selection of stuffed animals. He gave her a gentle pat on the head before standing up and sending a quick text to Shinsou, letting him know where they were. After giving Eri another smile and checking the time, Mirio quickly made his way toward the back of the store, disappearing into the hallway.

Eri, now left to her own devices, wandered through the aisles slowly. She kept her hands close to herself, unsure if it was okay to touch anything. She passed by shelves filled with fluffy bunnies, tiny bears with sailor hats, and even some superhero-themed plush toys, her steps hesitant and light.

Meanwhile, you were working the floor, wearing your red apron over a pastel goth outfit that contrasted sharply yet charmingly with the colorful ambiance of the store.

Your black, ripped jeans paired with the soft lavender of your belt, along with streaks of pastel blue and royal purple in your hair, stood out against the otherwise bubblegum, playful environment. Your outfit was a perfect blend of soft and edgy, a subtle rebellion that felt at home in a store that encouraged creativity and individuality.

As you helped another customer pick out accessories for their bear, you spotted Eri, her small form almost lost among the towering shelves. She seemed unsure of where to go or what to do, her wide eyes darting from shelf to shelf as if searching for something familiar.

“Hey there,” you greeted softly, approaching her slowly so as not to startle her. You crouched down a bit to her level, keeping a respectful distance. 

“Are you looking for someone special today?”

Eri blinked up at you, her eyes a little wary but not frightened. She nodded, pointing toward the top shelf where a fluffy white bear sat. It was out of her reach, and you could tell she didn’t want to ask for help outright.

You smiled warmly, standing up and walking over to a nearby ladder. “Let me grab something real quick, and then you can do the honors.”

After propping the ladder in place, you climbed up to grab a toy "grabber" from a top shelf—a long plastic tool that could be used to reach high items. You offered it to her, the soft click of the mechanism echoing slightly as you showed her how to use it.

“Here, why don’t you give it a try? You can get the bear all by yourself,” you said, handing her the grabber with a gentle smile.

Eri hesitated for a moment, her fingers twitching nervously around the grabber’s handle. But after a moment, her determination kicked in. She extended the tool toward the bear, eyes focused in concentration as she squeezed the handle and caught the plush animal.

With a small, triumphant smile, Eri pulled the bear down, holding it carefully in her arms as though it were fragile. You gave her a little cheer, nodding in approval.

“Great job! That’s a cute one,” you said softly, watching as she hugged the bear close to her chest, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Do you want to make it extra special? I can help you with the heart ceremony.”

Eri looked up at you, curiosity filling her eyes. She nodded, and you led her to the heart ceremony station, where the soft plush hearts were kept. You gently explained the steps, making sure to give her the space to do everything herself, guiding her through the motions.

“Rub your heart in your hands for warmth,” you said with a kind smile, mimicking the action with your own plush heart. Eri followed suit, her small hands rubbing the heart together.

“Pat your heart for your friend's heartbeat forever, rub them on your head for smart thoughts, and rub them on each other so they know you're best friends.”

As you continued through the ceremony, Eri became more engaged, a light giggle escaping her lips as she touched the heart to her elbow when you added with a playful grin, “And don’t forget to tap your elbow so your new friend will always be funny!”

Eri’s eyes lit up with the little details, and she smiled brightly as she hugged the heart to her chest before placing it inside her new bear.

Behind her, in the shadow of the store’s entrance, Mirio watched quietly, a warm smile creeping across his face. He hadn’t expected to see Eri so at ease, especially in a new place. The way you respected her space, never crowding or overwhelming her, made his chest swell with gratitude. He was about to step forward when he felt a familiar presence behind him.

“What’re you staring at?” Shinsou’s voice broke the moment as he approached, giving Mirio a teasing look.

Mirio turned with a grin, his blue eyes bright as he spotted Shinsou approaching. Shinsou, dressed in his usual casual wear—a dark hoodie and jeans—stood out among the bright colors and vibrant energy of the workshop. His messy purple hair framed his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Mirio with a raised brow.

“Just watching Eri have a good time,” Mirio replied, motioning toward the heart ceremony station. Shinsou’s eyes followed, his expression softening slightly when he saw the little girl happily finishing up the ceremony with her new plush bear. She was beaming now, her earlier hesitancy gone, replaced by a sense of accomplishment and joy.

“Looks like she’s having a good time,” Shinsou muttered, his tone more affectionate than usual. He had grown attached to Eri in his own quiet way, often showing up to hang out with her when he could.

He wasn’t the type to get openly sentimental, but moments like this made him feel lighter.

Mirio clapped a hand on Shinsou’s shoulder, his grin widening. “Thanks for coming, by the way. I know it’s not your scene, but Eri likes having you around.”

Shinsou shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, well you know I can’t say no to her.”

As they stood there, watching Eri carefully adjust her bear’s fur you approached with a gentle smile. Spotting Mirio and Shinsou near the entrance, she gave them a nod of acknowledgment before turning her attention back to you. 

“Does your bear have a name yet?” you asked softly, crouching down again to meet Eri’s eye level. She looked up at you with that same small smile, thinking for a moment as she hugged her bear tighter.

“Yes,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, but there was a sense of pride in her choice. Mirio watches with some confusion as Eri whispers it to you.

“That’s a perfect name,” you said with a warm chuckle, standing up and adjusting your apron as you prepared to ring her up. “Let’s get him all set up, then.”

Eri followed you toward the shelves with outfits, clutching Lemi in her arms as she gazed around the store one last time. You noticed how she kept glancing toward Shinsou and Mirio as if checking to make sure they hadn’t disappeared. They both gave her a reassuring wave from across the store, and she visibly relaxed, her steps becoming more confident.

You glanced up from the shelves, your eyes briefly meeting Mirio’s. He stood near the entrance, staring at you a little longer than necessary, his broad shoulders outlined by the glow of the afternoon sun. He had that goofy grin, the one that lit up his entire face, but there was something more behind it, a quiet admiration in his gaze.

Just as you return to checking on Eri, a figure sidled up beside Mirio. Shinsou, with his shit eating grin, elbowed him lightly in the ribs.

“You’ve been staring at her for five minutes, man,” Shinsou teased in his usual deadpan tone. “Why don’t you just go over there and say something?”

Mirio blinked rapidly, his grin faltering for the briefest moment as his face flushed a deep pink. “W-What? No, I wasn’t—”

“Yeah, right,” Shinsou cut in, rolling his eyes. “I could practically hear your heart pounding from across the room.” He gave Mirio a little push toward you and Eri, who was carefully adjusting the tiny outfit on her new bear, completely oblivious to the commotion behind her.

“Go on, big guy. She’s right there.”

Mirio stumbled forward, awkwardly regaining his footing with a sheepish laugh. His usual confidence was nowhere to be found as he approached, Shinsou trailing behind him with a lazy, amused stride.

You stepped in front of Eri protectively the moment you saw the two boys approaching. Instinctively, you put yourself between her and the newcomers, your body tense as you sized them up, ready for anything. But before you could say a word, Eri’s face lit up at the sight of her two of her favorite boys.

“Mirio! Shinsou!” she squealed, her eyes bright with excitement. She hopped up and down on the spot, holding her newly made bear in front of her like a prized possession.

The tension in your shoulders eased slightly, but you stayed close to Eri, watching the interaction carefully. Mirio’s flustered expression softened as he knelt down to Eri’s level, his smile warm and familiar again.

“Hey Eri! Who’s this?” he asked, motioning toward the bear in her arms.

Eri beamed, a little confused, and pointed up at you. “She’s my new friend.”

Mirio leaned in, squinting at you with a faux-serious expression. “New friend, huh? Looks like a tough one,” he said, his voice light. You huff and laugh before he stuff his hands in his back pockets and rocks before he then pokes the bear gently and then adds with a sincere tone, “You’re so cool, Eri!”

Eri giggled, hugging the bear closer and you nod, “She is!”

You couldn’t help but smile at the scene, the warmth of it spreading through you. Eri seemed so comfortable with him, like a big brother and his quiet, teasing friend.

“So,” you began, looking between the three of them, “is this your brother?” you asked, gesturing toward Mirio, though you couldn’t quite keep the teasing edge out of your voice.

Mirio laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, no, not exactly. But I do look after her,” he explained, his eyes softening as he glanced at Eri. “She’s special to us.”

You nodded, your heart warming at his response. “That’s sweet. You seem to care about her a lot.” Just as you were about to hand Eri back over to Mirio, the workshop’s door swung open once again.

The air in the room shifted as a tall, scruffy figure walked in, wearing his signature black scarf draped loosely around his shoulders.

Aizawa, with his ever-tired eyes and a slight slouch in his posture, made his way toward the group, his wallet already in hand. His gaze flickered between you and Eri, who immediately perked up at the sight of him.

“Dad!” Eri called out, her small voice carrying across the room.

Aizawa’s tired expression softened at her excitement, and he gave a small nod before turning his attention to you. “I see you’ve made a friend,” he said, his voice low but not unkind. He held up his hero license for your reassurance. “I’m her guardian.”

You blinked in surprise, your cheeks flushing as you realized your earlier assumption. “Great, these guys are nice but I couldn’t release her to them without a parents' permission,” you stammered, bowing your head slightly. “I just wanted to make sure she was with someone safe.”

Aizawa’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. “No need to apologize. You did the right thing by being cautious. I appreciate how well you’ve treated her.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a sense of relief washing over you. Eri, still clutching the golden teddy bear, grinned up at Aizawa, clearly happy to see him. Mirio, ever the optimist, gave a thumbs-up toward you.

“See? You’re great with her,” he said, his usual enthusiasm returning.

Aizawa ruffled Eri’s hair gently, glancing over at you once more. “Thanks for helping her. She doesn’t trust people easily, but she seems to like you.”

Eri nodded vigorously, hugging the golden bear tighter. “I do!”

You could have been knocked over with a feather with how happy you felt making that little girl smile and help her create a core memory.

The moment settled into a quiet comfort, the soft hum of the workshop around you, as Aizawa stood by Eri’s side, and you felt a quiet sense of connection with the little girl.

She has a good family here, no doubt about it.

You chuckled softly to yourself as you grabbed the small wooden step stool tucked near the counter. With a fluid motion, you brought it over to Eri, who eagerly clambered up onto it. Her tiny hands reached up toward the counter and placed her new bear, who sat proudly.

The excitement in her eyes was contagious as she carefully took in the action of you scanning the bear and filling in the information Aizawa gave you into the database before sliding her friend back into her hand, giving the bear a quick once-over as if to make sure nothing was out of place.

“Look! Isn’t he cute?” Eri beamed, holding the new playmate out for Aizawa and Mirio to inspect. Mirio, still a bit flustered from earlier, managed to nod, though words seemed to escape him. Shinsou, as usual, wasn’t going to let that slide.

“Come on, big guy, she’s waiting for some praise,” Shinsou said with a raised brow, nudging Mirio with his elbow.

Mirio blinked, looking between Eri and the bear as if his brain had short-circuited.

“Y-Yeah! She’s adorable!” he finally managed to say, his voice a little too loud in his eagerness.

You smiled at the scene, turning back to Eri. “Alright, let’s fill out these ‘adoption papers’ for him, okay?” You handed Eri a small form—a fun, simple sheet for her to fill out with her little buddies name, favorite activities, and promise to care for her new friend.

Eri took the sparkle pom pom pen with a determined nod, sitting cross-legged on the stool as she began writing carefully.

As Eri focused, her soft voice floated up toward you. “Just like with me!” she said brightly, her small hand gripping the pen a little tighter.

The words sent a wave of silence through the room. It was as if time itself froze. Mirio, Shinsou, and Aizawa all exchanged looks, the weight of her innocent statement hanging in the air. The unspoken gravity of her situation, how she was adopted by Aizawa after everything she had been through, washed over the group. 

You, on the other hand, had pieced it together when you saw the two walk in and seen how nervous Eri seemed with touch. Hence why you offered her some alternative instead of being more hands on like your coworkers. 

For a moment, the noise of the workshop dimmed, replaced with a quiet reverence of her writing.

Before anyone could respond, the door burst open, and Izuku came stumbling in, dripping wet, his breath ragged and his wild hair sticking to his forehead. It was immediately clear what had happened—he’d just been thrown into the fountain outside. 

Again.

“I-I’m okay!” he wheezed, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Eri’s solemn face broke into pure delight at the sight of him.

“Izuku!” she cheered, waving enthusiastically, her spirits immediately lifted. She proudly signed the adoption papers with a flourish before handing them to you.

You smiled warmly, taking the papers from her and carefully boxing up the teddy bear. “Alright, your new friend is all set,” you said, handing Eri the box, which she clutched to her chest protectively.

Before anyone could fully relax, Monoma and Bakugou came charging into the room, both out of breath and clearly mid-argument.

Monoma was the first to speak, of course. “Just so you know, he—” he pointed dramatically at Bakugou “—backhanded Izuku into the fountain.”

Katsuki snarled, glaring daggers at Monoma. “Tch, for once it was an accident! I was trying to punch you.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” Monoma scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Would my fist up your ass make it better?” Bakugou barked, clenching his fists as the two squared off, their bickering quickly escalating.

Aizawa sighed deeply, massaging his temples. “Of course,” he muttered under his breath before excusing himself from the registrar desk. He stepped between the two boys, his exhaustion palpable.

“Enough,” he said flatly, voice laced with authority, but it didn’t stop them from grumbling at each other.

Shinsou, watching with a smirk, took this as his cue. He gave Mirio a subtle nudge forward, his hands resting casually behind his back as if he hadn’t just shoved the older boy in your direction. Mirio, unsteady and blushing all over again, stumbled toward you, barely managing to stay upright.

“Guess you’re up,” Shinsou said with a sly, Cheshire grin before trailing after Aizawa, clearly entertained by the chaos.

You raised an eyebrow at Mirio, who now stood awkwardly in front of you, looking like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. His usual confidence had all but evaporated, leaving him standing there, fidgeting under your gaze.

You continued packing up a few more supplies, carefully organizing the boxes behind the counter. The soft rustling of tissue paper filled the air as you folded up some final pieces of merchandise, stacking them neatly. Mirio, still trying to recover from Shinsou's teasing, stumbled up toward you, his large frame knocking gently into the edge of the registrar desk.

“Oh! Sorry about that!” he blurted, immediately looking down at you with an apologetic smile.

You glanced up, amused by his flustered state. “No sweat. Nothing's broken, so we’re all good.”

You waved off his apology with a casual grin before returning to your packing, carefully organizing the boxes behind the counter. The soft rustling of tissue paper filled the air as you folded up some final pieces of merchandise, stacking them neatly.

“So,” you began, trying to ease the tension with a playful smirk, “is getting pushed around by 'Shinsou' part of the usual dynamic, or is this a special occasion?”

Mirio laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah, I think he’s just having fun at my expense today,” he admitted sheepishly, his smile returning, albeit a bit more bashful than before.

Eri, meanwhile, had taken the opportunity to step up beside you, clutching her newly boxed bear and watching you curiously. She tilted her head, her brows furrowing as she observed both you and Shinsou in the distance. 

“Are you… emo? Like Shinsou?”

Mirio tensed beside you, his eyes going wide at the question. He shot you a nervous glance, as if expecting you to be offended. But instead, a laugh bubbled up from your chest, light and genuine, filling the space between you all.

“Emo? Nah, not quite,” you said, still chuckling. You ruffled Eri's hair lightly with the pen before pointing to the purple and blue streaks running through your own. “But I get why you might think that. I’m actually a pastel goth.”

Eri's face lit up with curiosity, her eyes widening as you untied your apron and did a playful little spin in front of her. “See?” You gestured to your outfit—ripped black jeans, a pretty lace pastel top in your favorite shade, and the rainbow chains that connected from your belt to your pockets that added a splash of color to your otherwise dark base palette.

“And these are my favorite!” You lifted one foot to show her your dip-dyed tennis shoes, a soft gradient of pastel shades fading into the white canvas. “I made these myself.”

Eri’s mouth formed a perfect “O” of awe, her small hands reaching out as if to touch your shoes. “Wow! How did you do that? They’re so pretty!”

You crouched down to her level, smiling as you explained the process. “Thank you, sweetie! It’s called tie-dye. You take plain shoes or clothes, tie them in different spots, and then dip them in different colors of dye. You can get all kinds of patterns that way! Want me to show you?”

Eri nodded enthusiastically, already imagining the possibilities.

Throughout the exchange, you didn’t notice the way Mirio was watching you. His eyes followed your every movement—how you spun effortlessly, the way you smiled so warmly at Eri, how you explained things with ease. His heart raced in his chest, he gulped, trying to shake off the strange, intense nervousness crawling up his spine.

Mirio couldn't understand why it suddenly felt so hard to breathe, why his palms were sweating. Every time he tried to speak, his mouth dried up even more, like a dessert made out of sandpaper topped with crunchy peanut butter. 

He desperately wanted to look away, but his gaze was drawn to you, like a magnet pulling him in despite his mind screaming at him to just fade into the wall and disappear.

Still, Mirio couldn't help but stay, silently rooting himself to the spot, unable to tear his eyes from the scene unfolding in front of him. The way you connected with Eri, the easy laughter between you—it was like a warmth that had settled into the room, and though it made him flustered, he didn't want to leave.

You were still kneeling, explaining the basics of tie-dye with a smile, using your phone to show her how she could create something similar. Mirio stood stiffly, watching you with wide eyes, and though he was usually the picture of calm confidence, today was different.

His nerves kicking up in full force.

He wanted to speak, maybe even add something to the conversation, but his brain couldn’t form the words. It was as if the more he watched you interacting with Eri, the more his thoughts and nerves tangled themselves into sweaty knots.

Still, you kept the conversation flowing naturally, completely unaware of the inner turmoil Mirio was going through.

"It’s all about experimenting and having fun with colors,” you said, showing Eri how different patterns could form.

Eri nodded eagerly, fascinated by every word, while Mirio stood beside you, his heartbeat drumming in his ears. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt like a deer in headlights, but every time you smiled or laughed, it felt like someone turned the temperature in the room up a few degrees.

Mirio blinked, snapping back to reality just in time to notice Shinsou staring at him from outside the store. 

Shinsou’s eyes held a mischievous glint, as he subtly gestured toward you with a small nod of his head. Mirio followed the motion, his mind catching up with the situation. His heart skipped when he realized Shinsou was egging him on, pushing him toward you in a way that was just as playful as it was serious.

Behind Shinsou, Fatgum and Kirishima were rolling up to join the growing group, both exchanging easy grins. Fatgum seemed relaxed, his large frame towering over the others, eating some mall pretzels, while Kirishima waved enthusiastically, clearly trying to disarm the chaos that was unfolding.

Meanwhile, Aizawa stood a little farther off, arms crossed, his usual weary expression in place as he muttered something to himself.

“Herding cats is easier than dealing with them,” Aizawa complained under his breath, side-eyeing Bakugou and Monoma, who were still bickering like two kids fighting over sub vs dub anime.

Izuku was caught in the middle trying to remedy the situation, still damp, as Monoma had his hands up in a dramatic display of innocence, while Bakugou looked like he was one second away from cold blooded murder.

Tamaki, ever the quiet one, had appeared in the background, looking completely lost in the flurry of activity. His wide, nervous eyes darted between his friends, trying to figure out what exactly was going on.

But when Shinsou leaned in and whispered something in his ear, a faint blush immediately crept up Tamaki's neck, turning his face a deep shade of red. He turned and gave Mirio a hesitant but determined “game face,” his sharp, elfin ears twitching slightly as he forced himself to give a thumbs-up of encouragement.

Mirio’s heart warmed at Tamaki’s attempt to cheer him on. A bright smile broke out on his face, a silent thank you to his friend. With Tamaki’s confidence-boosting thumbs-up and Shinsou’s teasing still hanging in the air, Mirio’s determination grew. He squared his shoulders and turned back to face you, taking a steadying breath.

But when he looked at you again, he nearly forgot how to breathe entirely.

Eri had somehow found her way into your arms, comfortably perched on your hip. Her small fingers were gently poking at your ear piercings, her wide, innocent eyes full of fascination as you let her touch the little hoops and studs. You were watching Mirio now, meeting his gaze with a calm smile that made something inside him turn to mush. 

'Fuck.'

It was like all the noise in the background—the bickering between Bakugou and Monoma, the faint grumbling from Aizawa, even the shuffling footsteps of students in the distance—faded into nothing.

“Uh…” Mirio started, trying to find his voice, but his throat felt impossibly dry again.

“Are they gonna be okay?” You nodded slightly toward the commotion behind him, where Bakugou’s voice had risen several notches as he squared off with Monoma.

Just as you asked, both Bakugou and Monoma shouted something unintelligible, their voices overlapping in a chaotic burst of sound. You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, but nodded as if nothing was amiss.

Mirio rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his fingers brushing against the short hairs at the nape as he grinned awkwardly. 

“Yeah...they’ll be fine.” He tried to sound confident, but his mind was a mess of thoughts he couldn’t quite grasp. He noticed, more than ever, how close you were standing, with Eri resting in your arms like she belonged there, her small hands still occasionally fiddling with your piercings. 

The way you cradled her so naturally made something stir inside him—a mix of admiration and awe.

His heart started pounding again, the way it had before, but this time it was louder, more insistent. He couldn’t stop himself from noticing the little details about you. The way the light in the room softened around your face, casting a gentle glow on your skin. The hint of colors in your hair, the soft purples and blues catching in the air like a breath of wind. 

And that smile—warm, inviting, and effortlessly beautiful. It made him feel like he was standing in the middle of a sunlit field on a perfect summer’s day, the kind where everything was alive and vibrant, and you were the brightest thing in it. 

You weren’t just pretty. No, pretty was too small of a word to describe how you made him feel. You are beautiful.

'Breathtaking.'

Not just because of how you looked but because of your whole aura. It was like you radiated this light, this quiet strength, that made people around you feel safe and welcome. It was in the way you held Eri so gently, like she was the most precious thing in the world, and the way you spoke with such ease, your words always soft yet full of warmth.

Mirio could swear he saw the rest of his life in your eyes at that moment. He imagined laughter, quiet moments, and endless afternoons spent in the kind of peace only you seemed to carry with you. It hit him like a wave—this overwhelming sense of admiration and something more, something deeper, that he wasn’t sure how to name yet.

You tilted your head slightly, studying him for a moment. “You okay there, Mirio?”

Your voice broke through his swirling thoughts, pulling him back to the present. Mirio’s cheeks flared with heat, and he quickly rubbed the back of his neck again, this time laughing a little too loudly.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m good!” He forced out the words, his smile still bright, though a bit shaky. “Just... you know, keeping an eye on those two,” he added, motioning again toward the argument that was now simmering behind him. 

Kirishima had dropped his bag of hair dye in favor of holding onto Bakugou’s middle, whose hands were crackling faintly, while Izuku stood in front of Monoma, bandaged arms spread as Monoma looked like he was enjoying talking shit way too much.

Aizawa was laying into them for doing this again in public as Shinsou was holding up Tamaki who looked like he wanted to pass away from the onlookers and Fatgum is trying to divert the attention while also handing out fliers to his favorite restaurant in the mall. 

“Yeah, they totally have it under control.”

You glanced in their direction before looking back at him, your lips curving into a smile that sent his heart racing all over again. “Seems like you've got your hands full.” You poke Eri in her belly and she squeals before holding onto you again.

Mirio chuckled, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.”

Just then, Eri tugged gently on your sleeve, drawing both your attention. “Can I see the shoes again?” she asked, her voice small but eager.

You smiled down at her, giving her a little nod. “Of course.” You shifted her in your arms and then lifted one of your feet, showing her the soft colors of your tie-dye shoes again. She giggled, reaching out to touch them, her fascination with the colors and patterns not yet fading.

And as Mirio watched the scene unfold—the way you moved so effortlessly with Eri in your arms, the soft way you spoke, the ease with which you brought light into the room—he couldn’t help but think, 

‘Yeah, I’m a goner.’

Mirio blinked, his mind momentarily lost in the haze of his own thoughts as he watched you. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until he noticed your lips moving, the soft curve of them drawing his attention. For a second, all he could focus on was the way they shaped each word, the gentle rhythm of your voice fading into the background.

He didn’t register what you were saying—just that you were talking to him.

Then, as if shaken from a dream, Mirio blipped in surprise, his eyes widening as he coughed awkwardly. “Oh! Sorry! I—uh, what were you saying?” His voice cracked a little, his embarrassment clear as he rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous laugh. “I’m so sorry, I’m not sure what’s up with me today.”

You chuckled softly, a sound that made Mirio’s heart skip a beat. There was no judgment in your eyes, just warmth. “It’s okay,” you said, your tone teasing but kind. “Are you okay, though? You seem a little… distracted.”

He forced a smile, though his heart was still racing. “Yeah, I’m good now. Just—” Mirio stumbled over his words for a second before letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “I think I just spaced out for a bit.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, clearly unconvinced but playful. “Well, as long as you're not running on empty or something.” You flashed him a smile, and Mirio couldn’t help but return it, feeling the tension ease a little.

The two of you fell into an easy rhythm after that, making light conversation. You asked him how his day had been, and he asked you about yours. The small talk flowed effortlessly, and despite the occasional flustered moments on Mirio’s end, the interaction felt natural. You told him a funny story about one of your coworkers accidentally scanning a customer’s face instead of their item, and Mirio laughed, his usual cheerfulness slipping back into place. 

He was starting to feel more like himself again, even as he struggled to keep his thoughts from wandering back to how much he liked your smile and how warm and good your voice is.

He could listen to you read the phone book for all he cares!

As Mirio lingered, his gaze darting between you and the door, he finally cleared his throat, summoning a bit of courage. "You know," he started, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar, nervous way, "you’re, uh… pretty good with Eri. I bet you could make a career out of making people feel special."

You laughed softly, raising an eyebrow as you leaned against the counter.

"Oh yeah? Does that include you?"

Mirio froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat before he quickly stumbled over his words. "W-Well, I mean… you’re already good at that too." His cheeks flushed pink, and he tried to recover by flashing you one of his signature, bright smiles. "I guess I’m just lucky to be on the receiving end."

You smirked, crossing your arms as you leaned in a little. "Is that so? Mm, I’ll have to make sure to treat you extra special next time, then."

Mirio’s face heated up further, but he managed to chuckle nervously, scratching his head. "I, uh… I wouldn’t mind that."

Suddenly, a small voice piped up from below. Eri was tugging at Mirio’s sleeve with a sweet smile on her face.

"Are you two flirting?" she asked innocently, her eyes wide and curious.

Both of you blinked in surprise, exchanging a quick glance before bursting into laughter. You crouched down to Eri’s level, gently ruffling her hair.

"Maybe a little," you teased, glancing up at Mirio, whose face had turned a deep shade of red.

Mirio bent down too, his hand resting on Eri’s shoulder. "Just a little," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "You caught us." Eri giggled, clearly pleased with herself. "I like it. It makes you both smile."

You and Mirio shared a look again, warmth spreading between you as her innocent words sank in. Smiling, you reached out and gave Eri a playful poke on the nose. "Well, we’ll just have to keep smiling for you then, won’t we?"

Eri perks up at that and looks at you with something you can’t place. But she leans into your face to close her eyes and hug you tight. You return the hug, your cheek against the crown of her head and let your warmth radiate into her.

Mirio’s heart swelled at the sight, his smile soft and sincere. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice a little quieter now. 

"We will."

Outside the store, the once-heated argument between Bakugou and Monoma was finally winding down. Their voices, which had been loud and chaotic earlier, were now quieter, only a few muttered grumbles echoing in the distance. Aizawa reappeared shortly after, looking more exasperated than before but clearly relieved that the chaos had subsided.

He approached the counter, tired eyes flicking over to Eri, who was still happily holding the box containing her new teddy bear. “You all set, kid?” he asked, his voice softening ever so slightly when addressing her.

Eri nodded eagerly, hugging the box tighter. “He’s ready to go home!” she declared with a big smile.

You smiled at the sight, already scanning the item at the register as Aizawa fished around in his pocket for his wallet. As you rang up the bear, your fingers discreetly punched in a few extra numbers on the keypad.

Mirio, standing just off to the side, happened to glance over and caught the brief flash of numbers. He furrowed his brows slightly, noticing that you’d keyed in what looked like a discount code. Before he could say anything, you turned to him with a wink and a sly smile, your lips curling at the corners in the most mischievous way.

You handed the bag you placed the packages in to Aizawa with a casual grace, as if nothing unusual had just happened. “Here you go,” you said, leaning down slightly so Eri could see the bag. “Take good care of him.”

Aizawa gave you a nod, his expression as unreadable as ever, though there was a slight glint of gratitude in his eyes. “Thanks,” he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. He turned to Eri. “Ready to go?”

Eri nodded enthusiastically, still cradling her new friend. But before they left, she looked up at you with wide eyes. “Thank you for helping me adopt him!” she chirped happily, her excitement contagious.

You smiled back, giving her a little wave. “Anytime, Eri. You and your new friend take care of each other, okay?” She nods and holds up the box to the frazzled group of boys before tugging Aizawa with her to go show them. 

As Aizawa and Eri made their way out of the store, Mirio stood there for a second longer, watching the interaction with an odd mix of admiration and butterflies. You turned to him once more, your smile lingering, and for a brief moment, he swore the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

“You like kids, huh?” Mirio finally asked, his voice light with amusement as he raised an eyebrow.

You gave him another wink, the same mischievous glint in your eyes. “What can I say? Perks of the job.”

“Mirio come on!” 

“I’ll be right there!” 

The blonde waves to you before racing out of the store (almost hitting his face in the glass doors too) before rejoining the group outside. The atmosphere was filled with a blend of excitement and warmth. Mirio stands off to the side, watching you as you got back to work, expertly tying your apron into a neat bow around your waist, your fingers deftly maneuvering the fabric. 

There was a lightness in the air, a hint of magic lingering in the moment, and he couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Eri’s excitement.

“Hey, how did it go?” Shinsou nudged him playfully, a sly grin spreading across his face.

Mirio chuckled, scratching the back of his head, his cheeks a little pink. “Oh, you know, just normal stuff,” he replied, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies dancing in his stomach.

The boys—Izuku, Kirishima, Monoma, Bakugou, Tamaki, and Fatgum—quickly gathered around, their curiosity piqued. “Did Eri get her new friend?” Izuku asked eagerly, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

Eri piped up, bouncing on her toes. “I did! His name is Lemi!” she declared proudly, clutching the plush bear to her chest. Mirio felt a rush of emotion at the name; it felt personal, like a little piece of her heart wrapped in the soft fabric.

“Lemi? That’s adorable!” Kirishima exclaimed, leaning closer to get a better look. But then Eri faltered, her expression shifting as she realized she hadn’t dressed him yet.

Just then, Aizawa approached, his expression mildly bemused. “You can come back another day to dress him,” he said, and Mirio, without thinking, immediately volunteered, “I’ll take her!”

Eri’s face lit up, and she eagerly opened the box for everyone to see, her excitement palpable. “Look!” she exclaimed, revealing Lemi nestled among other items.

Bakugou, who had been watching with a critical eye, leaned in. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, crossing his arms with a hint of suspicion.

Aizawa paused, confusion flickering across his face before he reached into the bag and pulled out what looked like a small collection of outfits. The group gathered closer as he spread the items out on a nearby table in the food court, their eyes widening in amazement.

“Are those…?” Kirishima began, his voice trailing off as they all realized the outfits were mini versions of their hero costumes.

Mirio felt his heart swell with pride and warmth. He glanced at Eri, who was practically glowing with joy, her eyes shining like stars. When she spotted Mirio’s hero costume tucked inside, she squealed in delight.

“Look! It’s just like yours!”

With an infectious smile, she hugged him tightly, and in that moment, Lemi echoed a familiar phrase: “You’re so cool!” Her joyous squeak made everyone burst into laughter, and as she dropped the bear in surprise, Bakugou lunged forward, catching it just in time.

“Careful!” Bakugou grunted, a mix of irritation and fondness in his voice. The group shared a knowing look, the camaraderie palpable.

Izuku gently took the bear from Bakugou and squeezed its tummy. “Wow, it talks!” he exclaimed, his eyes wide with amazement. Lemi chimed in again, this time explaining that the voice must have come with the bear.

Mirio’s heart raced as he pieced it all together, realizing you must have been the one holding the voice box when he first approached Eri. A warm smile spread across his face at the thought of you crafting this magical experience for her.

Just then, Aizawa pulled out a note from his pocket and handed it to Mirio. There was a hint of a smile on his usually stoic face. “This is for you,” he said, his tone teasing yet encouraging.

Mirio took the note, his breath hitching slightly as he swore he could feel the warmth from your fingertips  had left for him. 

As the teasing continued, Mirio felt a wave of nervousness wash over him, the excitement now mixed with anxiety. The note felt heavier in his hands, and he was unsure how to handle the sudden attention. With a quick glance at Tamaki, he decided to pass the note to him instead, hoping his friend might read it without the weight of all their curious eyes on him.

Tamaki accepted the note with a shaky hand, his face a mix of confusion and surprise. He cleared his throat softly before unfolding it, his cheeks already turning a deep shade of red. As he read, the whispers and laughter around them faded, all eyes drawn to him.

Mirio watched anxiously as Tamaki’s eyes widened, a hint of disbelief crossing his features. “U-um…” he stammered, before glancing back at Mirio, his voice barely above a whisper. “S-Sorry,” he managed to say, quickly handing the note back with a beet-red face.

“What does it say?” Izuku urged, leaning in closer, curiosity shining in his eyes.

Tamaki, flustered, mumbled, “It’s… um… really nice.”

Mirio took the note back, heart pounding in his chest. He took a deep breath and began to read aloud:

“Hey! :D Mirio, right? Thanks for being so wonderful today! I really enjoyed spending time with you and Eri. You’ve got a really cute smile! If you’re not seeing anyone, let's hang out soon! If you ever want to chat or need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out. I’d love to hook Lemi up again. ;3

Looking forward to seeing you and your Eri<33! — Your local Pastel Goth

x-678-999-8212

It was a simple thank you, but at the bottom, your number was scrawled neatly, making his heart leap.

Eri watched him, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “What does it say?” she asked, her tiny voice full of curiosity.

“It’s a note from the lady,” he said, unable to hide the grin on his face. “She said we can plan more fun days together.”

The boys exchanged glances, a mix of surprise and teasing delight washing over their expressions. Eri squealed with excitement, her little hands clapping. “She thinks you’re wonderful!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy.

“Look at Mirio, all blushing!” Monoma laughed, while Bakugou rolled his eyes but couldn’t help a smirk.

Mirio’s heart raced, warmth creeping into his cheeks as he tried to play it cool. “It’s just a note,” he stammered, but the grin on his face betrayed his feigned nonchalance.

“Just a note? Dude, that’s definitely more than just a note!” Kirishima chimed in, clapping him on the back with enthusiasm.

Tamaki, still blushing, looked down at his feet, mumbling, “I-I think she likes you…”

As the teasing continued, Mirio couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness blooming inside him. The nervousness ebbed away, replaced by excitement at the thought of seeing you again. Eri’s bubbly enthusiasm and the camaraderie of his friends made it all feel so much brighter, like everything was finally falling into place.

Bakugou rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “You’re such a dork,” he teased, earning a playful shove from Kirishima.

Fatgum chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You boys better watch out. Mirio’s got a secret weapon now,” he said, gesturing to the note with a grin.

As the playful banter continued, Mirio felt a swell of happiness. The bond he was forming with you, Eri, and the rest of the group felt like a bright beacon in his life. He couldn’t wait for the next mall adventure, knowing that you would be a part of it.

“Let’s get home before your classmates burn the dorms down.”

🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊

As the day wound down and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the window of Aizawa’s living room, Mirio found a cozy spot on the couch with Eri nestled against him. The warmth of the moment wrapped around them like a comforting blanket, Eri’s small fingers clutching the note you’d written, her eyelids growing heavy as sleep threatened to claim her.

Mirio, still buzzing from the day’s events, felt the soft rhythm of Eri’s breath against him, her little body rising and falling in a peaceful slumber. He couldn’t help but smile, his heart swelling with affection for the girl who had quickly become so dear to him. The note rested on his chest, a tangible reminder of you and the promise of more moments to come.

Just then, Shinsou, lounging nearby, couldn’t resist the urge to capture the scene. He quietly pulled out his phone, careful not to disturb the tranquil atmosphere. The sight of Mirio, looking blissfully content with Eri curled up beside him, was too precious to pass up. With a mischievous grin, he snapped a quick picture, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face for just a moment.

“Adorable,” Shinsou whispered to himself, stifling a chuckle as he looked at the picture. Mirio stirred slightly but didn’t wake, a gentle smile still gracing his features. The room was filled with a sense of warmth and safety, the bond between them solidifying in the simplicity of the moment.

As Mirio drifted further away, he felt a sense of contentment wash over him. It was a day well spent, and he couldn’t help but look forward to what tomorrow would bring for them all. 

🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊🌞 😄 🧱 👊

The morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table where Eri, Mirio, and Shinsou were happily digging into a stack of fluffy pancakes. Eri’s eyes sparkled with delight as she drizzled syrup over her stack, the sweet smell wafting through the air.

As they chatted and giggled, the sound of shuffling feet approached. Aizawa emerged from his room, tousled hair and sleepy eyes, just as Yamada bustled in, carrying a plate piled high with golden pancakes. 

“Good morning, Shouta!” he called cheerfully, setting the plate down in front of him.

“Did everyone sleep well?” Aizawa asked, his voice still raspy from sleep as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Eri beamed up at him, her cheeks stuffed with pancakes. “I slept great! And guess what, Mr. Aizawa? Mirio called that lady from the store last night to set up a playdate at the park today! We’re going to hang out together!”

Mirio’s face instantly turned crimson, his cheeks matching the color of a ripe tomato as he fumbled with his fork. “I, uh... it’s not like that!” he stammered, his embarrassment palpable. Shinsou, sitting across from him, stifled a laugh behind his hand, a smirk spreading across his face as he watched Mirio squirm.

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Just be safe, you two. And remember to keep an eye on Eri,” he added, glancing pointedly at Mirio, who was still blushing fiercely.

“Of course!” Eri chirped, her excitement infectious. Mirio, despite his flushed face, couldn’t help but feel a rush of joy at the thought of seeing you again. He grinned, the anticipation bubbling within him as he tried to play it cool. 

“Yeah, we’ll have a great time!”

Meanwhile, on your end, you were sprawled across your bed, heart still racing from the phone call. Your face was buried in your pillow as you squealed, muffling the sound of your excitement. He really called me! He really called me! you thought, replaying every detail in your mind, savoring it like your favorite song.

You remembered the moment his number flashed on your phone screen. Not knowing who it was, you picked up with a casual, "Hello?" but inside you were buzzing with nerves, especially when you heard his voice crack a little as he started talking.

"H-Hey! It's Mirio... I hope I'm not calling too late," he said, his voice warm but tinged with a kind of awkwardness that made him even more endearing. You could practically see him rubbing the back of his neck, just like when he’d been standing in the store earlier.

"No, you're fine!" you replied, a smile spreading across your face as you pressed the phone tighter to your ear. You had just finished working around midnight before heading home to eat a grilled cheese and shower before climbing into your black strawberry print sheets.

Did your bones ache? 100% absolutely, no doubt about it. But you really liked the afflictions of his voice and it beats the boyfriend asmr you listen to sometimes to fall asleep. 

"What’s up?"

There was a pause, and you could hear him exhale, almost like he was gathering courage. "I, uh... Eri wanted to go to the park tomorrow, and I thought maybe... if you’re not busy, you could... join us? If you want. No pressure! I mean, it’s just a park. A public place. With, you know, swings and stuff... so, uh..."

You giggled softly, letting him off the hook. "A public place, huh? That sounds very safe. I'd love to come along."

He sighed in relief, but then there was a moment of silence before he awkwardly admitted, "I... actually realized I never got your name. Kinda... embarrassing, huh?"

You grinned, teasing him just a little, "Oh, so you called me without even knowing my name? Bold move, Mirio."

He chuckled nervously. "Y-yeah, I guess so! I just... I couldn’t stop thinking about how nice it was talking to you today. You’re, like, really easy to talk to. And, uh..." He hesitated again, and you could feel the shift in his tone, his vulnerability coming through.

"You’re really pretty, too. That’s... part of it. You’ve got this energy, you know? It’s just... it feels good to be around you. So I figured I’d take a chance."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a wave of warmth spread through you. You teased him again, just lightly. "Oh really? Well, you’re not too bad yourself. I’ve gotta say, you did look pretty good today with the sun shining over you like that."

'I wanted to bite your lips when you smiled.'

There was a bashful laugh on the other end of the line. "You think so? I felt so nervous talking to you, I thought I might trip over my own words."

"Well, you did great," you replied softly, feeling your own nerves start to settle. Talking to him was surprisingly easy, despite how flustered you both were.

You thought back to the way he had smiled earlier, how his eyes crinkled in the most charming way when he looked down at Eri, and how, for a moment, you'd feel a little flutter of nerves yourself. Thank God for Eri being there to smooth over the tension. You found yourself wishing you had asked him for a hug before he left.

'No,no,no, that would be weird! AGH!'

As you lay there now, hugging your pillow, your mind wandered back to how close he’d stood to you, and that same flutter of nerves returned. You dropped the pillow from your face and sat up, grinning like a kid. Your heart was still racing, but this time it was all excitement.

“Can’t wait,” you whispered to yourself, the smile lingering on your lips as you hopped out of bed to get ready for tomorrow’s ‘play date’—if that’s what you could even call it. 

You had a gut feeling it would be more than just that.~

I'm whipping up a part 2, what do you all think?

Taglist: @elarakive, @thealtofvalleyxdoodles, @raendarkfaerie If you wanna be added lemme know!

I own none of the images or art!!!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. I have a Bakugou here in the master list. I also have a Pro Hero! Bakugou x Sugar Baby fic and a Aizawa Fic.

Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want.

I promise I bite~

See you soon my loves!!

(｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

[youareiron-andyouarestrong]

Ooh if you’re still in your jyncass era prayer beads for the November prompts? If not feel free to apply to any pairing you like

Kassa remembers Mami's beads.

A multi-strand bracelet wrapped around her wrist, made out of smooth, dark brown wood, each one lovingly carved by Kassa's bisabuelo, handed down from father to father to daughter. Each one knotted on the long, tough fibers they used to weave their cloaks. Mami would thumb off each bead and say, Stella. Benedicíon. Rosa. Teo. Benedicíon.

Depending on the family, some bead strings would have twenty, thirty, maybe even forty. Kassa's family was the only one in the whole village that had fifty-five. He'd been so proud of that, fifty-five ancestors, and each name spoken like a blessing.

The beads were beautiful, but they weren't meant for just prayer. Mami could flick her wrist and snap them out like a whip; wrap them twice around an opponent's neck before they could make a step towards her. Once they were older, Mami had promised to teach him and Kerri how to use them. The day the Imperials came to Kenari, Mami had unwound the beads from where they lived around her wrist, and prayed through gritted teeth: "Franco. Ayúdanos." Franco had been the name of Kassa and Kerri's abuelo. That's when Kassa truly understood the trouble they were in. You only ever called upon the ancestors if you were in the direst need.

Mama had been wearing the beads when she and Papa had been killed. Kassa had unwrapped the beads from around her wrist and taken them back to the remains of the village, now the camp where and all the other children and teenagers slept. Between him and Kerri, they slept with them shared in their clenched fists every night.

He'd given the beads to Kerri right before he left for salvage. Mostly to stop her fussing at him for going out and leaving her, again, but also because he was the oldest, and that meant, Papa told him often enough, making sacrifices. For your sister, mijo. A calloused, gnarled hand, but still so strong, gently ruffled his hair. He'd wrapped them around his sister's wrist and said, "Keep them safe for me, si?" She nodded solemnly, awed by the responsibility.

He never saw those beads again.

/

Cassian didn't touch the beads, Jyn noticed.

They jumbled together in the trappings of a cover identity Command had worked out for them, a laborer couple out to make a few credits in an Imperial factory. The quartermaster had given them a hastily assembled bundle of clothing, accessories and other such things and Cassian had looked barely concealed disapproval. "It's got to have continuity," he muttered, going through the mismatched contents of their go bags.

Jyn followed his example, but honestly, she didn't really care. She learned how to make do with almost nothing in the last fifteen years. Being handed an entire bag worth of clothes, shoes and gear felt like the height of luxury. The beads slipped out of the tangle of items, falling amongst the scarves and layers they'd been given. Jyn was surprised--jewelry wasn't common item in the quartermaster's supplies--but Cassian saw them and just--stopped, for a second. As if recalling something.

"Oh," he said, looking at the beads. "Where did--?" he looked around the bunk where their items had been laid out by the two of them. "Did those come with the clothes?"

"They did," Jyn confirmed. "Do you know what they're supposed to be?"

Cassian paused, still looking at the beads, his normally quick hands still. "They're--they're an ancestor strand. Or beads. Each bead means a family member who came before you."

Jyn glanced down at the necklace. There had to be at least thirty beads on the cord. "Did this belong to someone?"

"It must've," Cassian said, his tone oddly blank. "Most--most of the effects are donated, or--if a member of the Rebellion is killed in action...they're asked, beforehand, if they want their personal effects want to be donated to the stores so it can be reused or repurposed, or sent back to their families, if we can manage it. Most choose to donate."

Jyn's hand closed around her kyber crystal unthinkingly. Each bead on the strand meant someone's family. Fathers, mothers, aunts, uncles. Grandparents. "Then...whoever this belonged to..."

"They might not have had family to send it back to," Cassian said. His voice was quiet now, just stating a fact they knew all too well.

The beads lay on the bunk innocuously. Each one had been carefully, precisely carved. Dark brown wood, well-polished from years of use. "Do--do you want them?" Jyn asked uncertainly. She didn't think it would be right for her to use them.

Cassian looked at the beads. His voice grew strange, distant. "My family had a strand of beads like this. Fifty-five on a cord. " He gave himself a slight shake and carefully picked it up, wrapped it multiple times around his wrist. His movements looked like something he had seen done a dozen different times. "It will come in handy if others have them," he told Jyn, steady again. "That way they can recognize us as someone they can trust."

Jyn nodded slowly, seeing the sense of that. They gleamed on Cassian's wrist, an unbroken line. "Who will they be?" she asked. "The beads?"

Cassian glanced down at his wrist. "They'll be my family," he said simply. "Everyone who came before me, and..." he glanced at Jyn, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. "Everyone's who with me now."

That pleased Jyn inordinately, so she ducked her head to hide her own small smile.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 7: The Mando Games

Link to Chpt. 6, Link to Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT, Flirty!Din, Jealous!Reader, swearing, kissing, fingering, helmet stays on, explicit description of unprotected sex (be safe in the real world please), canonical violence

Word count: 12.5K (another long one for you because I don’t know how to edit enough)

Author’s Note: We’re still on Angel One because I wasn’t done playing there. If you’re interested in the setting, I’ve based the historic part of the city on Toledo, Spain. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

When you awake the next morning, it feels like you have had the best sleep of your life, despite spending so much of the night making love with Din. You feel utterly blissed out and although some of your muscles ache, it’s the most delicious feeling. You feel him stirring next to you, and you remind yourself that you have to wait to take off the sleep mask until you know it’s safe.

“Go-od morning, cyar’ika,” Din says through a yawn, “Gimme a minute to get the helmet.”

“Of course,” you reply stretching out in the bed, and as you do, your stomach lets out a loud growl. You’re embarrassed, especially as you hear Din laughing softly.

“Did you work up an appetite?” he asks, “I know I’m starving after all that activity.”

You blindly throw a pillow in the direction of his voice and he just laughs harder.

“Careful, my dear, you might break something,” he admonishes you playfully. You hear his footsteps come closer to you and something fluffy lands in your hands.

“You can take the mask off now,” Din says, his voice sounding modulated again and you know he has the helmet back on. You slide the satin mask off your head and store it safely in the nightstand and you see that he’s brought you one of the robes to wear. You’re just slipping it on when you hear a knock at the door. You’re getting ready to hop out of bed and answer it, when Din tells you,

“I’ll get it; no one else needs to see you like this but me.” He’s only half dressed in his trousers himself, but he throws on the other robe to answer the door.

His comment about your appearance makes you curious, so you get out of bed anyway but head to the large bathroom instead. In the mirror, you see a woman who looks well loved. Your hair is mussed, your lips are slightly swollen, and there are several marks, Din’s love bites, on your neck and chest. You smile back at your reflection and think you’ve never looked better.  

You hear the door close and so you head back out to see what that was all about and find Din in the sitting room area with a large cart laden with breakfast foods. Mistress Sigrid may be a bit much, but at least she’s a great hostess. You immediately dig in to the delicious spread as Din chuckles at your eagerness. You make a plate, flop down on the sofa, and turn yourself so you’re facing away from him.

“Go ahead and eat, Din, I know you’re hungry too,” you say, “I promise I won’t look.”

“I know, I trust you,” he says and you hear him get his own breakfast too.

You enjoy your food and the time spent chatting with Din about various other things last night. Turns out, he got a lot more information about the Jubilee from the men.

“Today there’s a sort of bazaar with arts and crafts and cultural demonstrations,” he’s telling you, “Trent promised to show us all the best booths.”

“That was nice of him,” you say.

“And there’s a big set up for this competition that they have amongst the women. Today they announce the challengers and then tomorrow the contest begins,” Din explains.

“I bet it will be entertaining to watch, the women here seem so skilled, it will probably be some type of combat contest or at least something athletic,” you speculate.

“There’s also an interesting prize system for it,” he lets of a huff of laughter, “Apparently the women get to choose the man they want for the night based on the order that they finish - so it’s a prime time for a woman to steal a guy she’s had her eye on.”

“What? That sounds so sexist, I mean towards men, which I know sounds weird, but, ew.” The idea just seems wrong to you, but then you think about how you’re only seeing this from your perspective and say, “But, I know I shouldn’t be judging their culture by my norms, and if this is what works for them, then so be it.”

“It seems odd to me too,” Din says, “But the men last night were pretty excited about it, it’s a pretty big honor to be selected by the winner for them.”

“Well at least we’ll just get to be spectators,” you say.

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

Once you’re ready for the day, you head back to the nursery to collect the child. He’s very excited to see you both and toddles over to you as quickly as his tiny legs will carry him. He’s clearly had a great time and is wearing a flower crown and a new beaded necklace.

“Hi buddy, look at you! I love your new accessories!” You say scooping him up. He leans in for a hug and then makes grabby hands towards Din. You hand him over, as Gregor is coming up to you with a little bundle.

“Your little one was such a dear and he played so well with the other children,” he tells you, “And he had a great time with arts and crafts, he’s just a little natural.”

You open up the bundle to find two more beaded necklaces, one in pinks and reds and the other in blues and greens.

“These are so pretty, buddy, did you make them?” you ask the child who is cooing happily at you. “Let me guess, is the pink one for me?” He coos and giggles and you drape the necklace over your head.

“And is the blue one mine, kiddo?” Din asks and again the child makes a happy sound and you help Din put on his new necklace.

“What a beautiful family!” Gregor gushes, “Let me get a holo of the three of you.” Dutifully, you pose for a few holos including a few that Gregor snaps with your holopad too.

As your little party makes its way out of the state residence to head to the bazaar, you find Trent with a group of his friends in the foyer. They are all dressed to impressed and are also sporting flower crowns today.

“Oh Princess and Mando, hi!” Trent greets you enthusiastically, and then with a cheeky grin, “Someone had a wonderful night last night, didn’t they? I noticed you two sneaking off in the middle of the show.”

You feel a touch embarrassed but Trent’s happy grin makes you giggle in spite of yourself and you just say, “Oh, I’d never kiss and tell.”

This seems to delight all of Trent’s friends and they giggle right along with you, and you notice a couple of them checking out Din’s marks on your neck that are still very visible. They exchange knowing glances and you give them a wink.

“See, I told you she was charming,” Trent says and then proceeds to introduce you to his friends. The men greet Din enthusiastically too, most of them having met him last night.

“Oh, but Mando, you don’t have a flower crown,” one of the men, Chad, says with a note of disappointment in his voice.

“Don’t worry there’s always some nice ones you can buy at the bazaar,” another man says.

With that, you all head out to explore and enjoy the day. It’s a beautifully sunny day with a nice light breeze and the scent of flowers and delicious food wafting through the air. You can hear festive music playing and the sound of many happy people already out and about enjoying their holiday. This part of the city is a historic district with many very old stone buildings close together and narrow cobblestone streets that wind through the buildings before ending in large plazas. Large red banners adorned with various symbols hang off most every window and balcony that you pass, and beautiful floral garlands are draped across the streets between the buildings. Each of the plazas are ringed with vendor booths and each plaza appears to adhere to a particular theme for the wares. Trent directs you to the floral plaza and a stand with many flower crowns. You’ve never seen such beautiful flowers and in such a variety of pretty colors.

“They look really nice, I’d love a flower crown too,” you say a touch wistfully, and the men dissolve into laughter at the idea. You look around and realize, “Oh, wait, they’re just for men, aren’t they?”

Din steps up to look at the crowns more carefully. You can’t imagine he’ll really buy one for himself, but then he asks you, “Which ones do you like?”

You let your fingers touch the soft petals of a particularly beautiful one with red and yellow flowers that catches your eye, “I like this one best,” you say.

“And what’s second best?” Din asks, and you look a touch surprised, but maybe he doesn’t care for the red and yellow? You look through the others and land on another lovely crown of purple and white blooms.

“This one is also lovely,” you say softly.

“We’ll take these two,” Din says to the vendor, handing him a small handful of credits. He then picks up the red and yellow crown and gently places it on your head, enjoying the look of surprise on your face, before plopping the purple crown on top of his helmet.

“You’re a princess, you should have a crown if you want it,” Din tells you.

“Thank you,” you say, beaming at him.

“It actually looks really pretty on you,” Trent says, “Who knows, maybe it could be a new trend?”

You continue to explore the bazaar and eventually you meet up with several of the mistresses that you met the night before. They eye your flower crown with a snicker, but you figure they were already laughing at you anyway so why should you care. The only one who doesn’t do this is Eira, who politely tells you that it looks nice, and you decide she’s your favorite out of all the women you’ve met here. Eira introduces you to her lover, Bradley, who is a quieter man than Trent and his friends, but very nice. They invite you and Din to join them for a drink at one of the tavern booths, and the four of you fall into a comfortable conversation.

After a bit, Eira tells you that it’s time to head to the main plaza because the day’s program is scheduled to begin soon. Arriving at the plaza, you see a stage and several grandstands set up around it. Most of the stands are already full, but Eira leads you to seats in one of the front rows that have been reserved.  

Mistress Sigrid walks out onto the stage to a podium that has been set up as a band plays a triumphant march. As the music swells, people stand and cheer. When the music ends, Sigrid welcomes you all,

“Hello, I hope you are all having a wonderful Jubilee of Astrid!”

“May she bless us!” the crowd replies enthusiastically.

“Please be seated as we begin our ceremonies,” she says.

What follows are a series of speeches about the importance of the holiday, the blessings of Astrid, and the prosperity that she is sure to bring each family. You’re only half listening and instead you let your mind wander to what it must be like to live in a place like this where you know you will celebrate together each year, a place where a family can spend a peaceful day together having fun. You look over at Din holding the child who is playing with the beads of Din’s necklace and you feel a pang of sadness in your heart. What would it be like if you could settle somewhere and have a real home, make friends, and spend time each day in plazas like this one? You know you’re letting your emotions get the best of you. After all, you haven’t even been together with Din for that long, so why are you picturing such a future already? Still though, now the image is in your mind.

“And of course, now we get to the main event,” Sigrid is saying, and you snap your attention back to her, “It’s time to announce the competition and challengers for Astrid’s Battle.”

“This year’s competition will consist of three rounds,” she announces, “In round one we have a test of agility, in round two, a challenge of intelligence, and then in round three, the show of strength. As each of our competitors finish a round, they will earn points based on the quality and speed in which they completed the tasks. Remember this means that even if someone doesn’t win any of the rounds, she could still end up the victor based on total points!”

The people around you cheer wildly and you do your best to applaud and look enthusiastic. Sigrid goes on to then introduce various women who come out on stage to receive cheers and take a bow. It isn’t until she gets to Mistress Lagertha when things unexpectedly take a nasty turn. Instead of coming out for just a bow, Lagertha heads to the podium.

“I am here to issue a special challenge, to our visiting princess.” Your head snaps up at her in alarm. “Your Highness, I dare you to compete for your Mando. If you should manage to place higher than me, then he’s yours, but if I out place you in the contest, he’s going home with me.”

You jump to your feet in utter shock at her audacity and you feel your body flood with anger. How dare she!

It is very quiet all of a sudden, as all eyes look to you. You try to reason with her at first, but your voice cannot hide your ire, “Mistress Lagertha, we are guests on your planet, and I regard this as highly unusual to request that I participate in this competition and that Mando be offered as a prize.”

“If you’re too scared to compete, then I’ll just take him now,” she smirks at you, openly mocking you in front of everyone.

You feel Din standing beside you, his body tense, and you know his fight mode is about to kick in, but that would be disastrous. You raise your head and give her the most intimidating glare you can muster, as you say, “Very well, I will accept on one condition, Mando is only a prize between you and me, no one else may compete for him.”

There is an immediate uproar at this and the crowd begins to gossip excitedly about this newest twist to the competition. Sigrid motions you to the stage, but before you can go, Din grabs your arm, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I think I do, unless we want more trouble,” you tell him and you make your way to the stage.

You are seething right now and you curse yourself for ever having thought of Lagertha as friendly. Your outrage makes you walk with intention and when you take the stage, you know you’re going to show these women that you might be smaller in stature than they are but you are still a powerful woman in your own right.

“Do we have an agreement?” you ask Lagertha your voice cold. It’s a tone you learned from your days with the Empire and from the way her eyes widen, you can tell it has an effect on Lagertha. She gives you a curt nod.

“I’ll need more of a guarantee, Mistress Sigrid, that no one else will compete for Mando.” You look at her with hard eyes, you may be wearing a flower crown, but the pretty, delicate princess is all gone.

“So you will join the competition? Compete for Mando’s affections?” Mistress Sigrid asks rather surprised.

“I will, but only if my stipulation is met,” you reply sharply.

“Very well, only yourself or Lagertha may claim Mando,” Sigrid confirms. She then turns to the crowd and announces you as the final competitor. You take a small bow like the others, but you keep your eyes trained on Din.

When you exit the stage both Din and Eira are there to meet you. Din takes you by the shoulder and brings you in close so he can speak directly in your ear,

“Are you certain you want to do this? We can just leave now, take our chances,” Din urges you.

“No one can find us here, this is the safest place for now,” you reason with him, “And if I need to play their game to help keep us here, then I will. No woman is just going to take you from me.” Din sees your eyes flash with that statement, and he feels humbled by the intensity of your affection for him. I don’t deserve her.

“I can help you prepare,” Eira is saying, “I’ve competed many times and honestly the competition doesn’t change much from year to year.”

“I would appreciate any help, Eira,” you reply, “And I can still beat Lagertha on total points, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct,” Eira confirms, “Let’s go back to our house and we can talk strategy.”

Din, the child, and you follow Eira and Bradley back to their home as she tells you about her experiences with Astrid’s Battle.

“The first two rounds will be tomorrow. The agility challenge is always some type of obstacle race, the obstacles change from year to year, but generally you have to have decent balance, be able to climb, and be light on your feet,” she explains.

“Your smaller size may give you an advantage there,” Din says encouragingly, “And I’ve seen you carry a tray a food, the child, and several of his toys around the Crest with no problem, so balance should also be a skill for you.”

“My best shot at earning points though is going to be the intelligence test,” you say, “What does that usually consist of?”

“Typically, it’s some type of really hard puzzle or riddle,” Eira tells you, “It’s a real challenge, but I know that Lagertha isn’t good at riddles, so you do stand a good chance there.”

“That would be right in my skillset, so I’ll hope for the best there.” You feel much more confident that you can do well on that section and if you’re fast enough it might be enough to keep you competitive with Lagertha.

“The part that worries me the most is the strength competition,” Eira is saying, “Because that is almost always hand-to-hand combat. It’s on the following day because it’s usually done in tournament style.”

“I’ve given her some training, but if she could spar with you, that would be helpful to see the fighting style you use here,” Din suggests.

For the next couple hours, you spar and practice with Eira and Din in the grassy area behind Eira’s house. The two of them give you various pointers about how to best hold your own and use your smaller size to your advantage. It’s good that Din’s training has focused on that too, because it doesn’t feel too foreign to you. At the very least, you feel like you won’t make a complete fool out of yourself thanks to their advice. Bradley has kindly been watching the child the whole time as they sit on the sidelines and cheer you on. There was a tense moment at first when Eira kept mysteriously falling down as she went to attack you, but thankfully, Din realized what was happening and hurried over to lower the little green hand. Eira just figured she had slipped on something and didn’t get suspicious.

When you’re taking a break, you pull the little one close to you and whisper in his ear, “I appreciate the help, buddy, but save it for the real competition in case I really need it.” You give him a kiss and he makes his happy, snuffly baby sounds.

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Later that evening, you’re resting in your room back in the state residence. Din is insistent that you save all your energy for tomorrow, and while you know he’s right, you can’t help yourself from giving him suggestive looks anyway after the child is safely in his pram for the night.

“Cyar’ika, you’re supposed to be getting ready for bed,” he admonishes, “I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You’re already a distraction,” you say playfully. Nevertheless, you know you could use more rest given that last night wasn’t exactly full of sleeping. So you head to the bathroom to brush your teeth and clean your face for the night. You’re starting at yourself in the mirror again, but this time doubt starts to creep in as you consider how much stronger and bigger Lagertha is. You have no idea how she might do in the intelligence competition, either.

When you come back to the bedroom, you ask Din, “Do you think I have any chance tomorrow?”

“Of course I do,” he insists strongly, “If I didn’t I’d already have you and the kiddo in hyperspace.”

He’s direct, and you know he means it. Your face must still show your doubt though, because he comes over and pulls you into his arms.

“Cyar’ika, you are going to be great. These women underestimate you; they’re too wrapped up in their own ideas of superiority to see who you really are.”

“Who I really am?” you repeat to him, wondering how he sees you.

“A brave, intelligent woman who knows how to survive,” Din says sincerely, “And the only one who can win this Mando’s affections.”

You hug him tighter to you as he says that and then you lean up to place a kiss on his helmet where his mouth would be.

“Close your eyes,” Din says, and when you do, he pushes up the helmet so he can lean in and take your lips in his. His kiss is tender and loving, and when he pulls away, you feel content again.

“You can open your eyes now.”

“Thank you, Din,” you say softly.

“For kissing you?” he asks, a little amused.

“For believing in me.”

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

You’re filled with anticipation and anxiety as you wait for your turn to begin the obstacle course in the agility portion of Astrid’s Battle. You’re thankful that Eira was able to brief you on this part because now it doesn’t seem quite so daunting. The course is set up with various sections where you must cross a narrow bridge or make your way over an unstable surface designed to test your balance. There are also several climbing walls to surmount, and a crawl through swampy, muddy area that you are not looking forward to completing. You have an advantage however, of being in the middle of the pack of competitors because you can watch the women who run the course before you and see how they attempt the obstacles. In some cases, there are two options for a path, and you’re quickly learning which path will be best for you. As each woman runs the course, two announcers provide a play-by-play of her progress and updates on the time. It seems like most women finish in around 15 minutes, but you can get time added to your clock as a penalty if you make a mistake on the course.

Suddenly it’s your turn to start and as you hear the buzzer sound, you jolt into action. As you’ve been watching the others, you pre-planned your route in your head and as you bound across the first obstacle, a net that makes you bounce as you run on it, you tell yourself to focus on the plan and to shut out any distractions. One thought keeps your legs pumping and your eyes sharp, she won’t take Din from me.

Din is sitting in the stands holding the child on his lap as he watches you compete. Maker, he’s not even in the competition but his heart is beating fast with nervous energy as he watches you on the course. He’s glad that Eira and Bradley are with him because these new friends seem just as invested in your success as he is. You’re doing really well on the balancing apparatuses, and each time you cross one, Din cheers out for you. But, you’re having less success with the climbing walls, as unfortunately with those, your shorter height gives you a disadvantage. You aren’t able to reach as far as the other women, so it takes you longer to get over each one. Still, each time you do, he’s so proud of you. You’re almost to the end of the course now and all that’s left is the muddy crawl. Din knows you’ll hate that part as one time the kid got himself and then you, covered in mud and it was clear you did not enjoy it. So when he sees you dive into the mud like it’s nothing, giving it your all, he feels honored that you’re trying so hard to win him. Of course, there’s no chance in hell he’s going to let Lagertha anywhere near him if she should happen to outscore you in the competition. However, he kept that to himself so that you would focus on doing your best with the challenges and not worrying about the ensuing fight that might be necessary.

Positively filthy, you push yourself off the ground and sprint as hard as you can towards the finish line. When you cross, your lungs are burning and you can hardly see with all mud on your face, but you smile as you hear the announcer state your time, 20 minutes and 38 seconds, a respectable time for someone who’s never competed in anything like this.

You head over to an area where outdoor showers have been set up so you can wash off the mud. The water is cool and refreshing as it runs over you, and you appreciate it, as you take in the moment, happy that this first part is finished. You’re wiping your face with a towel and when you can successfully see again, you look up to your favorite sight. Din and the little one come over to give you a hug and a Keldabe kiss.

“You did amazing, cyar’ika,” Din says his voice full of pride, “The announcers and everyone around us were really impressed too. You didn’t even get any penalties.”

“That’s good to hear, but I just hope it’s enough--” your statement gets cut off as you hear the announcers say Lagertha’s name excitedly.

“Yes, folks, it’s a new round one record for Mistress Lagertha at only 10 minutes and 32 seconds!”

Your heart drops at that news. She completed the course twice as fast as you did, and with a new record, she’s likely to be in first place going into the next part of the contest.

Din sees your expression and he leans down to tell you, “Don’t give up yet, I know she doesn’t have the brains to beat you in the next part.”

You look at him with wary eyes, “Maker, I hope not,” is all you can say.

After cleaning up, you’re ushered into a special lunch with the other competitors. Your completion time has placed you in the bottom half of the competitors, but you’re fortunate to see that you’re actually closer to the middle than you expected to be. There are several women with worse completion times because either they had many penalties or they were actually slower than you. It gives you a little bit of confidence as does the fact that many of the women have come up to congratulate you on making it this far.

“Well, look who’s still with us,” Lagertha strolls up to you as the luncheon is ending. She flanked by two friends taking a classic mean girl approach. It’s clear some things are universal no matter what planet you’re on.

“Congratulations on your record,” you say graciously. You know she wants to bait you into an argument, so you plan to stay cool and collected and deny her the satisfaction of seeing you upset. It’s a tactic you’ve seen Din use when people get mouthy with him.

“Why thank you! Aren’t you sweet?” She makes it sound like an insult. One of her friends rolls her eyes.

“I’m looking forward to the next round, I do enjoy an intellectual challenge,” you say with a smile on your face.

“Well, let’s just hope it’s something that your little head can handle,” she gives you a smirk as her friends snicker rudely. You’re getting really fed up with this elitist attitude they have.

Nonetheless, you swallow your anger and say, “Thanks.” But you know your eyes are showing your true feelings and it just seems to amuse her and her nasty friends all the more. You sigh, hold your head up high and just walk away from them heading into the room where the next round will be held. You hear shouts of laughter at your back but now it’s just fuel for your fire as you are determined to be outstanding in this next challenge.

You’re seated at a desk with a holopad and a camera designed to film you as you work on the puzzles and broadcast it on a large screen to the audience. It also allows the judges to see you in action and ensure that no cheating takes place. You feel more nervous than you anticipated because you didn’t think about everyone watching your every move.  But then you look over to the stands and see the flash of beskar, even though he’s across the room from you, you can feel Din’s energy like a lifeline reaching out to you. It calms you and although you’re nervous, you know you can handle this.

Mistress Sigrid comes out to start the second round and announce the puzzles. She looks right at you and gives you a small nod that you take as encouragement before she says, “Welcome everyone to Round Two of the Battle of Astrid! This year’s intellectual challenge will ask our competitors to decipher three messages written in three unique and puzzling styles. This year will be a real brain workout as our third message features a real code used during wartime. Competitors may ‘purchase’ hints to the puzzles in the form of time with a more useful hint costing more time. Are we ready to begin?”

Thank the fucking Maker! The second challenge is codebreaking! You can’t believe your luck and when Sigrid hits the buzzer to start the competition and the first puzzle appears on your screen, you have a huge smile on your face.

The first code is a simple substitution cipher and is the type of code that children use when they’re writing secret messages, and with the free hint providing the first substitution, there is no challenge for you at all. You solve the code in three minutes. When your holopad confirms that your answer is correct, the next puzzle is displayed. You hear an impressed sound come from the crowd around you along with the surprised voice of the announcer saying that you are already on to the second puzzle.

You feel your confidence soar as you quickly glance up and see that no one else is even close to solving. The second code is much more complex and on first review, you believe it to be a shift cipher where each letter of the alphabet is shifted down to a new position. As you work, you notice that the code is actually a clever collection of multiple shifts in sequence. It’s a great platform for building a code and one that you might choose to use. It takes more work, but you feel like you’re in your element and everything around you falls away as you break the message. You realize you’ve got it and hit your button to submit. Suddenly you hear a large cheer when your correct message is confirmed, and look up to see that you’ve completed this round in just about 20 minutes. Another quick look at the other screens and you can see that you are now light-years ahead of anyone else, and more importantly, Lagertha has only just started the second puzzle.

When the third encoded message is displayed on your screen, you almost laugh out loud. The wartime code that Sigrid mentioned is an Imperial code that you not only recognize, it’s one that you helped create. You identify your own special coding signature and everything. Again, you can’t believe your luck, and you think the Maker really must be smiling down on you today. It’s not even a challenge for you. It takes you five minutes to decode the message and that’s only because it was a fairly long paragraph. When you hit submit and the correct message is confirmed, no one can believe it. The audience goes absolutely wild and the judges come rushing over to review your work. The competition is paused for the other competitors so that everyone can verify the results. There are some angry shouts demanding to see your work. But after a quick review of your holopad, there’s no denying it, you are correct and you have won the round.

“In a stunning turn of events, we have an incredible new record for the intelligence challenge,” Mistress Sigrid announces to the stunned crowd. “For the first time ever, a woman has completed this round in less than 30 minutes. Princess, please take a bow.”

You stand and take your bow, feeling a rush of true success and luck, and for the first time today, you breathe a sigh of relief. You hurry over to sit with Din and the child so that you can watch the rest of the competition now that it has resumed.

“You were incredible, I had no idea you were that good,” Din tells you, “I mean, I knew you were smart, but, cyar’ika, that was outstanding.”

“I was good, but I was also extremely lucky,” you whisper to him, “I’ll explain later.” If anyone were to hear about how you were able to break the code so quickly, it might lead to allegations of cheating and who knows what other problems.

Eira and Bradley also express their admiration for your performance and Eira even throws her arms around you in a bear hug. You’re so grateful to have at least a few other people supporting you.

You watch the competition, mostly for Lagertha but also smugly curious to see how the women do with breaking your code. You know it’s petty, but when you see how much everyone is struggling with it, you feel an upwelling of pride within you. No one is able to make any progress at all without purchasing at least three hints. This feeling of superiority grows especially as you watch Lagertha purchase every possible hint, costing her precious time, and then still struggle to solve it. When she does eventually figure it out, her time comes in at just over four hours.

After the competition ends for the day, everyone is ushered into a special dinner where the rankings will be announced for tomorrow’s strength challenge. You sit nervously next to Din poking at your food and then feeding most of it to the baby. You pray that your unbeatable score in the intelligence challenge will garner you a great position for this final hurdle.

“Remember if you’ve placed high enough, you might only have to fight in a couple matches,” Eira explains, “Hell, with that score you pulled off in Round Two, you’re looking really great.” You know from her earlier coaching that a high score will put you into one of the higher rounds of the tournament automatically reducing the number of women you’ll need to take on in the strength competition.

Finally, Mistress Sigrid is at her podium next to a giant screen and is ready to reveal the results. You listen restlessly as she announces the competitors in reverse order from bottom to top finishers. You keep waiting to see your ranking, but it doesn’t seem to be coming. Shockingly, Lagertha’s name is revealed in sixth place, and then even more astonishingly, you listen as Sigrid declares that you have rocketed your way into second place.

“It is unprecedented to see such a meteoric rise in this battle, but I believe we all owe our off-world princess a round of applause for her cunning mind,” Sigrid praises you, and you nod blindly in your bewilderment.

“I can’t believe I pulled that off,” you say to Din.

“It’s great, because it means you’ll only have two fights at the most, because you automatically advance to the final four!” Eira practically squeals at you.

At the thought of the fights, your glow of success and hopefulness starts to fade and the reality of having to fight at least one if not two of these giant women settles on your shoulders. It must show on your face, because you feel Din lean in close to you and place a hand on your arm.

“Hey, don’t fret,” Din is saying to you, “Best case scenario, Lagertha is defeated in an earlier round and then you can just concede and come in fourth.”

“True, but there’s still a chance I have two matches that I need to win tomorrow, and I don’t know if I can even manage one,” you tell him honestly.

“Yes, you can, I know you can,” he replies and he takes your hand interlocking his fingers with yours. It’s a small gesture but it has an instant effect and you feel warmed by his faith in you.

When you return to your room, you look around and decide that maybe it will be a good idea to pack up your belongings, just in case you need to make a hasty exit from this place. Something is nagging at your mind, but you can’t figure out what it is. There’s just a feeling that something is going to go wrong. The packing serves as a good outlet for the uneasy energy that has taken over your body, but you don’t really have that much stuff and after it’s all organized, you turn your attention to the child. He likes to be rocked to sleep and so you start to do that, but then your frazzled nerves and racing mind turn rocking into pacing until Din steps in.

“Let me take him, cyar’ika,” he says gently, “You’re keeping him awake you’re moving so quickly.”

“Oh, I, I’m sorry,” you say sounding distracted.

“It’s ok,” he says as he reaches for the child, “You go get ready for bed.”

You listen to him and go through your nightly ablutions, but still there is something toying with the edge of your thoughts, something that you’re missing. When Din comes into the bedroom, you’re sitting straight up in bed nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you replay various moments from the day in your head.

“My love, you need to relax,” Din says with a soft sigh, “You’re getting yourself so worked up you’ll never sleep.”

“How did Sigrid get that code, Din?” you ask, having identified that as the primary source for your frustration.

“What do you mean?” he questions confused.

“You know how I said I got lucky in the code-breaking competition,” you say, “That third code was an Imperial Code, it was my code, or at least one that I helped create.”

“That’s why you solved it so quickly,” he realizes.

“Yes, but how did they get it, and how did they know how it worked in order to make into one of their puzzles?” This is the question that has been wracking your brain.

“I’m sure there’s an explanation, cyar’ika,” Din says calmly, trying to help you settle down, “Remember, the Rebellion had code-breakers too and it’s possible someone on their side broke that code.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” you say, “And then maybe they made those documents public after the war?” It sounds possible, but your voice is still full of doubt and unease.

“Yes, it’s likely that’s what happened,” Din says. He looks at you for a long moment and then says, “Take off your nightgown and lie down on your stomach. I’m going to rub your back to help you relax.”

“I’m naked under this,” you say automatically, still distracted by your turbulent thoughts.

He chuckles, “Well, I was hoping that I’d get the privilege of seeing you naked again, but honestly this will just help me massage you better.”

“Oh right, of course,” you say, letting out a shaky laugh yourself as you pull off your nightgown and lie down.

You try to will yourself to relax as you feel his large, warm hands begin to sweep over the muscles of your back. His fingers knead into you and start to relieve the tension in your shoulders as he works out the little knots there. His hands move down your spine stretching and soothing the muscles. When he gets to the part of your lower back that always seems stiff, you let out a little moan as he helps relieve the pain there. He gently runs his hand over your bare backside and you feel a little spike of desire before he moves on to massage your thighs. He massages all down your legs, working out sore spots you didn’t realize you had. When he gets to your feet, you’re feeling so much better, you almost forget why you were so worked up.

“Turn over,” Din tells you. You comply, a little confused, but you figure he knows what he’s doing.

He keeps massaging your feet for a while longer, and then starts to move up your legs again. As he reaches your thighs again, he starts to nudge them apart and you watch as he climbs up on the bed. His touch starts to change and you realize he’s staring between your legs now and it’s turning you on.

“What are you doing, Din?” You have a pretty good idea, but you want to hear him say it.

“I’m going to make sure you’re completely relaxed, cyar’ika, the best way I know how,” he tells you with determination.

Now his hands are right on either side of your pussy and again he just stares for a moment before he lets his fingers begin to explore your most sensitive flesh.

“Do you like to look at me, Din?” you ask in a sultry voice.

“I love to look at you like this,” he says gruffly, “So beautiful when you’re open for me.” You hum your approval in response as his fingers apply more pressure and start to circle your entrance.

“You get so wet,” Din tells you, “I love how responsive you are to me.” He plunges his long middle finger of his right hand inside of you and you cry out softly at how good it feels. His left hand is now playing with your clit as two of his fingers roll and pinch it between them. Gently, he adds a second finger to the first one inside you, moving them in and out and swirling them around reaching deep within you. His motions are unhurried and you relax even more into his touch. Every so often, he crooks his fingers upward, making you moan out his name. It feels so good and his pace is so steady that the pleasure builds slowly and even as you know you’re reaching your climax, it feels like you are floating towards it rather than hurtling there like you usually do. This time it’s not a race for release; instead, it’s like he’s trying to draw it out of you as gradually as possible. When you do finally reach your peak, it is blissful and you moan his name out contentedly.

As your breathing returns to normal, you tell him, “You’re right, Din, I feel so much better, so relaxed.” Your mind is finally quiet, “Give me a few minutes and then I’ll help you feel good.”

“No, cyar’ika, this was all about you,” Din says gently, “I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep now.”

“You sure?” you ask, but you can’t deny you do feel very sleepy already.

“I’m positive,” he says. You feel him pull the blankets up around you and then he carefully places the sleep mask over your eyes. You hear the telltale sound of his helmet coming off and then you feel his soft lips against yours. When you settle back into your pillow, you feel drowsy and peaceful. When Din’s arms come around you and he pulls your body against his, you’re already drifting off.

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

The strength competition is a master class in hand-to-hand combat. You watch from the warm-up area with the other competitors, awed by how powerful and skilled these women are at their sport. You have only a shred of hope that you will be able to put up a good showing in the competition and you’re desperately wishing for someone else to take out Lagertha for you. So far though, she looks to be in her element. She fought off her first two challengers handily and while it gave you an opportunity to study her fighting style, it mostly just scared the pants off you. Now Lagertha just has one more woman to beat and if she does, you’ll have to fight her. At least she was randomly selected to be on your side of the tournament bracket, otherwise you’d have to be sure to advance to the final round and beat her there.

Din and the baby come over to stand with you, as you get ready to watch Lagertha’s next match. Din places his arm around your shoulders helping to calm you. You take the child into your arms, since you know his sweet presence with help you feel better too.

“Look, see how she drops her shoulder there,” Din points out, “That’s a good opportunity to land a painful hit.” You nod as you listen to his advice.

“Oh, and there, you see how she puts all her balance on her front foot when she throws that cross,” he shows you another weakness, “If you can kick at her other leg when she does that, you’ll knock her down for sure.”

You turn and look at him, really look him, as he’s still trying to coach you up until the last possible moment. As you watch him, a sense of happiness and calm comes over you. It dawns on you that Din will always be on your side, rooting for you, believing in you, and nothing will change that. He really is the best man you have ever known. You slide your arm around his waist and rest yourself against his body and you let his continued advise wash over you. No matter what happens, you know you are going to fight your heart out for him; it’s what he deserves.

You watch resigned as Lagertha defeats her opponent and you know the time has come. There’s a short break between the matches, so you have a few minutes with your guys before you have to step into the fighting ring.

“Thank you for all your help,” you say to Din as you pull his helmet down to meet your forehead, “I’m going to fight like hell for you.”

Then you shift your attention to the child on your hip, and turn him around so you’re facing each other. You look deep into his eyes, and whisper to him, “If you do end up helping, just try to be subtle, OK?” You lean down and give him a kiss on his forehead. He coos at you like he understands, and you cross your fingers that he won’t try to fling Lagertha across the arena.

“So, little princess, are you ready to get that butt kicked?” Lagertha jeers at you as you enter the ring.

“I’m ready to fight for Mando,” you tell her with determination, “He’ll never be yours. Besides, I doubt you’d even know what to do with him.”

“Oh you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” Lagertha snaps back at you, and maybe you hit a nerve.

You smirk at her as you reply, “I think the intelligence contest proved that yesterday already, or did you forget?”

Lagertha is seething at you now, “You little bitch, I’m going to destroy you.”

In getting her good and angry, you can see she’s throwing out her strategy and is going into blind attack mode. You think one more biting remark will really push her off her game and it might cause her to make a mistake. “At least I don’t have to win a man in a contest to make him mine,” you taunt her, your voice condescending.

Lagertha lunges at you before the buzzer has even sounded, but in her anger she telegraphs the move and you dodge her attack just as Din showed you. The referee for the match blows her whistle and signals a penalty for Lagertha.

“None of that!” the referee snaps, “Get back and wait for the buzzer!”

You can see that Lagertha is vibrating with anger and although you know it’s risky to keep making her mad, it is keeping her unbalanced and sloppy, so you wink at her and smirk in her direction.

When the buzzer sounds and the referee signals the start of combat, Lagertha charges at you again in her rage. You can see that all of her weight is leaning forward with her momentum and so you duck and throw out a kick to her knee that knocks her to the ground. You quickly move away from her though so she can’t grab you and pull you down too. She scrambles to her feet and then runs towards you again. This time she’s better prepared, and when you land a blow to her ankle, it merely trips her up but she doesn’t fall. You figure your best strategy is to keep moving and dodging her as much as possible in hope of tiring her out. Din had pointed out to you that she’s already fought several matches and that making her chase you would be difficult for her. You can hear the crowd cheering the more you bob and weave and land a few small blows. You’re not doing a lot of damage to her, but it does seem to slow her down at least, and so far, you managed from getting hit by her. The more you do this, you hear the crowd sound begin to shift. The spectators are starting to laugh. It must look pretty funny you realize as you land your little hits and then run away from this giantess.

“You’re going to pay for this,” Lagertha threatens you as she finally makes contact with your body, punching you hard in the side. You flail a bit but manage to keep your feet and try to dart away again, but she reaches out and grabs your wrist, hauling your body back up against hers. It’s almost the same exact position from when Din first started training you and the memory of that runs through your mind as you automatically fight her off exactly the way he taught you in that first ever lesson.

As he watches you successfully break away from Lagertha’s hold, Din feels incredibly proud. Everything you’re doing is what he trained you to do. Although he hates the fact that he can’t be the one to fight and protect you, the feeling of seeing what you’ve learned from him is gratifying in a way he never knew it could be. He winces as Lagertha manages to punch you in the shoulder, but then it turns to a shout of praise as you land a good kick to her hip. You’re fighting so hard for him that it makes his heart ache and, rather unexpectedly, it’s turning him on quite a lot. That is until Lagertha manages to knock you to the ground hard, so hard that you cry out in pain and Din feels sick. He can see Lagertha rearing up so that she can drop her full weight on top of you in a crushing blow, but then it’s like she’s stuck for a moment or is second-guessing her move. It that split second, you manage to roll over and swing your legs around hard, sweeping Lagertha’s feet, making her stumble and fall. You pop up onto your feet again, but blessedly Lagertha stays down. It isn’t until the referee is blowing the whistle that Din looks down and see the child’s hand extended.  

“Ok, that’s enough, kiddo,” Din says quietly to him, but he’s secretly pleased that the child helped you win.

You cannot believe what has happened as you stand there panting and swaying slightly on your feet. After the initial whistle blow, the referee came over to you and thrust your hand in the air, signaling that you were the winner of the match. But then, Lagertha finally made it to her feet and tried to hit you again, but ended up punching the referee. A small shouting match broke out at that and now the referee is conferring with the judges and Mistress Sigrid as Lagertha argues with them that something went wrong during the fight. You look over to Din and the child, and you can see that the little guy looks happy but rather sleepy, a sure sign of some force assistance. You hope nothing looked too out of the ordinary to the crowd.

“That’s enough, Lagertha,” Mistress Sigrid is saying angrily now, “Give it up! You challenged her and you lost; take it like a woman!”

You watch wide-eyed as Sigrid then comes over to you, raises your hand in the air again, and announces to the crowd, “The winner of this match!”

A sense of true relief washes over you and you feel tears of joy at your eyes. Knowing that the win isn’t entirely yours doesn’t bother you because you still fought hard, and you know that Lagertha can’t take Din away from you. You look around for him in the crowd again, but you don’t see him, and you’re starting to get concerned when suddenly he’s there in the ring with you, sweeping you up into his arms and spinning you around. He sets you down on your feet again as he brings his helmet down to your forehead and the two of you are oblivious to everyone else around you.

“You did it, cyar’ika,” Din tells you happily, his voice filled with admiration.

“I think I had a little help,” you whisper and then lean down and kiss the baby on the nose. He coos up at you softly and then slowly blinks his dark eyes.

“Ok, lovebirds, I think we know how this competition is going to end,” Sigrid is there chuckling as you finally pull away from Din’s embrace. “Technically you are supposed to fight Runa here in the final match of the competition.”

You see Runa standing there looking at you with respect and she says to you, “I’m not interested in your Mando, so if you want to concede, I’m happy to be the overall winner without another fight.”

“Yes, I wish to concede the next round and select Mando as my prize,” you state happily.

“Very well,” Sigrid says smiling big, “Congratulations on your performance and enjoy your prize!”

“Thank you, I will.”

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

You emerge from the luxurious bathroom having had a restoring shower and a recovery drink with a healthy dose of bacta to heal your bruises from the fight. You feel like a new woman and the pride of your win is still pulsing through your veins along with lust for your Mandalorian. You hear Din in the bedroom now and he calls out to you,

“The kid’s asleep; he’s out for the night.” You figured as much since you know using his powers tends to tire him out quickly.

You drop the towel that was wrapped around your body and saunter out into the room naked. Din instantly drops what he’s doing and you know he’s starting at you. You smile suggestively at him and then make a show of looking him up and down.

“What are doing, cyar’ika?” he asks, he sounds aroused and entertained.

“Appreciating my prize,” you tell him saucily, “Get undressed so I can appreciate you even more.” So far, you’ve let him take the lead when it comes to the physical side of your relationship, but tonight you want to be in control. You wonder how far he’ll let you take it.

He tilts his helmet at you, as if to say, oh really?, but then he starts removing his armor as that black visor stays trained on you. This is a different side than you’ve shown him before and he likes it, so he’s eager to fulfill your request. As more of his layers are removed, you make little comments as he reveals his body to you. He stays quiet though; content to listen to your praise and suggestive remarks.

When the gloves come off, you say, “You have such nice strong hands, Din, and very skilled fingers.”

Then his cape, “I can still see the marks I made on your neck, do you remember how good that felt?”

Next is his shirt, “I love your big arms, they feel incredible when they’re wrapped around me. Oh and that gorgeous chest feels so good when I press against it.”

He leans down to remove his boots, this time you giggle, “I guess the big feet saying is true when it comes to you.”

Then his trousers are off, “Your thighs are so nice and thick, I wonder what it would be like to ride one.”

But then, his underwear slides down those thighs, “Oh, now that’s the prize I’m gonna ride.”

“Cyar’ika,” Din says his voice deep and gravely, and with that one word you can hear how turned on he is.

“Get on the bed and sit with your back against the headboard,” you tell him and watch as he moves quickly to comply. Watching him strip for you and ordering him about has you very turned on and you feel your wetness coating your inner thighs.

“I can see how wet you are from here,” Din tells you, “I like how turned on you get by just seeing me.”

You climb onto the bed and straddle Din’s legs with your own and his hands immediately come up to hold your waist. He tugs you down lightly but you stay up on your knees for now, wanting to tease him some more before you get too carried away.

“Touch my tits first,” you tell him and you reach to move his hands upward. His hands slide up your body to cup your breasts and then his fingers pinch and pull at your nipples teasing them into hard and needy little peaks. You let your head loll back and you push yourself further into his hands. You hold onto his arms and you gently let your hips become flush with his. You don’t let him enter you yet though, instead you just grind against him letting his hard cock brush through your wetness and rub against your clit in a delicious fashion. Din groans loudly at the contact and he bucks up into you in an attempt to create more friction.

“Not yet,” you say, “I want you to touch me more, first.” You lift back up off his hips, take his right hand from your chest, and guide it to your core.

“Make me come, Din, like only you can,” you order him and then you gasp as he pushes two fingers into you at once.

“Gladly, my princess,” he replies. Unlike his easy pace from the other day, this time his fingers plunder your tight passage, pushing in deeply without much warning. The swift invasion makes you cry out his name and you clench around him tightly. He rotates his hand so his thumb can circle your clit and your hips start to buck against him. You stare into the blackness of the visor and you know he’s watching your face even though you can’t see his eyes. There’s something about seeing that unreadable mask in front of you but hearing his harsh breathing that excites you even more.

“Yes, Din, yes, that’s it,” you moan out, as his fingers inside you focus on the spot that gives you the most pleasure. It feels so good that your thighs are starting to shake and you know you’re already close. He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you hard and fast while his other hand tweaks your sensitive nipple in a perfect blend of stimulation.

“Are you going to come for me, cyar’ika? You gonna soak my hand?” Din’s voice urges you on and you rock on his fingers drawing out the sensation as much as possible before you feel your internal muscles fluttering around him as you come apart with a shout of his name.

“That’s my good girl,” he says and you watch as his fingers disappear beneath the helmet so that he can lick them clean.

“I’m ready to fully claim my prize now,” you say with a wink as you reposition yourself over his cock.

“Yeah, you gonna take me now? Make me yours?” Din asks his voice laced with amusement and lust. He reaches down to hold himself in position for you.

“Mmm, yes, I’m going take you, all of you,” you reply as you slowly start to sink down on him. You draw out your descent, pulling up a little before sinking down again, each time going a little lower and taking more of him. You can see that Din’s trying to hold himself still, but as you get closer to taking all of him, he can’t resist thrusting up into you those last few inches until he’s fully inside of you. It feels so good and you grind yourself against his body. Your hands are on his chest helping support you and you stare into his visor hoping that you’re making eye contact with him.

“You’re mine, Din,” you tell him as you start to lift off him and then come back down. You glide up and down on his cock finishing it with a grind against him each time.

“Say it again, say I’m yours,” he says as you start to find a rhythm to your movements.

“You’re mine, Din, you’re mine,” you repeat and his hands come to your hips to urge you to move faster on him.

“Tell me I’m only yours,” he demands and he starts to match your movements, thrusting his hips up into you. He feels so huge in this position and when he surges upward into you, the feeling is sublime.

“Only mine, Din, you’re only mine,” you breathe out as you start to bounce faster on him, riding him harder, “No… other woman… can have you… only me.”

“That’s fucking right,” Din says and his hand finds your clit again, rubbing frantic circles around it, “Tell me again, don’t stop telling me.”

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine!” You can feel yourself galloping toward your release, and the more you call him yours, the more a primal need for him awakens within you. It makes the pleasure that much more intense and you feel yourself burning white hot from it. The flames within you build as you continue to cry out that he is yours until it is too much and the fire consumes you.

Din watches as you reach your peak. He relishes in seeing how beautiful you look in that moment and in hearing how you sound as you’re absolutely overcome by him. His strong arms wrap around you to hold you up as you slow your movements and become more relaxed. He takes advantage of your momentary pliant state to roll you over, so he can be on top now. He did enjoy having you ride him, but he needs to be able to really thrust into you now, the way he’s been thinking about all day. Din pulls your legs up to his shoulders before he enters you again, this new position allowing him to penetrate you deeper than before.

“Ah, Din! Yes, oh Maker, yes!” you shout out your approval competing with the wet, lewd sounds filling the air as he pistons into you. Your cunt is so tight around him, he almost feels like you’re pushing him out of you each time you clamp down hard around him. Din knows he won’t last long like this, but with the way you’re thrashing around underneath him now, he doesn’t think you’ll care.

“You f-fought so hard for me t- today,” Din tells you between thrusts, “So- so p-proud of you, m- my cyar’ika.”

You mewl when he says that and seem to clench around him even tighter. It makes him want to say it again,

“My cyar’ika, mine,” he repeats and it feels as though you become even wetter for him. It makes him increase his speed and now his hips are pounding against yours. He’s going much harder than he dared the first time you were together. It’s like something has come unleashed in him, a deep desire to show you how much you are his, how much he wants to be with you, needs to be with you. He watches as you arch your back and writhe up to meet his punishing thrusts, your head is thrown back as you let out a near constant string of moans and Din thinks he’s never seen a more gorgeous sight in his life. He feels himself get impossibly harder and he knows that he’s close to his climax, but he want you to get there again first.

“My cyar’ika… fuck, want you… want you to come again… t-touch yourself,” Din tells you and you immediately reach down to play with your clit. Your fingers move rapidly in tempo with his hips and you start to shudder.

“Ahh, DIN! Yes! DIN!” He loves the way you cry out his name when you come and as soon as you start to squeeze around him, he lets himself go, pumping his seed deep within you as he follows you into the ecstasy of release.

Din slowly pulls out of you and lowers your legs before collapsing next to you. He lies there for just a moment before rolling towards the nightstand and pulling out the sleep mask. When he comes back closer to you again, he reaches up to cradle your face with one of his hands and looks into your eyes.

“My love, even though we haven’t been together long, I want you to know there is no one that could ever take me away from you. I’m so proud of how well you did in the competition, but you have to know that I would never have gone with that woman. I mean it when I say I’m only yours. And you should know that I won’t let anyone take you from me either,” Din tells you, his words heartfelt. You feel tears prick at your eyes as your emotions flood your chest.

“I mean it too, Din, I am yours, and you have to know I’ll never stop fighting for you, for us, when I need to,” you reply and place your hand over his.

“Can I cover your eyes? If I don’t kiss you soon, I’m going to burst,” he says.

“Yes, please, I need to kiss you too, my darling Din.”

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

In another part of the state residence, Mistress Sigrid sits in her office and stares at a flickering holo. The image must be at least 7 or 8 years old, but there’s no doubt in her mind now that it must be you. After seeing you for a few days in a row, she knows that even though it’s an old holo, you are the same woman, and although you might be passing yourself off as a princess now, your appearance hasn’t changed that much. Plus, after rigging the intelligence challenge to include that Imperial code, she knows for certain that you must be the woman that Commander Kerrick Hoven is seeking and for whom he is willing to hand over a fortune in credits. She punches a code into her comm device.

The image of a blond man with sharp eyes appears and speaks, “Mistress Sigrid, I hope this is confirmation of good news.”

“Yes, Commander Hoven, I am certain it is her.” Sigrid replies.

“She was able to break the code easily?” he asks.

Sigrid chuckles, “She took only 5 minutes to do it. That along with the holo you sent confirms that it must be her.”

“Only 5 minutes,” Kerrick repeats fondly, “Still my brilliant little doll. You said she’s pretending to be a princess and is cavorting with a Mandalorian? She always was one for lost causes.”

“Yes, well, he shouldn’t be any problem for my warriors. When will you be here to collect her and transfer the funds to my account?” Sigrid asks.

“We shall see you in five hours.” Kerrick ends the call and his image flickers out.

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It hasn’t been very long since you drifted off to sleep when you are jolted away by tiny claws grabbing at your face and a scared cry. You can feel that Din is at your back, his arm wrapped around your waist and his face buried into your hair, so you know it is safe to lift the sleep mask. When you do, you are met with the child’s highly distressed face.

“Buddy? What’s the matter? How did you get in here?” You have no idea what’s going on.

The child reaches his hands out to you and places them on either side of your face and suddenly your mind is filled with images. You see the interior of what looks to be an Imperial ship filled with storm troopers and other officers, then suddenly you are on the bridge of the cruiser looking at Kerrick in a commander’s uniform. He looks older than you remember and you can see that he is staring at a holo of you. You can’t tell what he’s saying but you can feel the threat that he poses and you are seized with the idea that you are in danger.

The child removes his hands and the images disappear. You heart is pounding and you have broken out in a cold sweat.

“Buddy, is that what’s happening? Is Kerrick after me?” you ask the child wildly even though you know he can’t respond. He just lets out more sad, whiny sounds and now you can hear Din starting to stir.

“What’s goin’ on? Middle of the night,” Din’s sleepy voice comes to you even as it’s still muffled by the pillows.

“Din, wake up, we have to leave, we have to leave right now.” Your voice is urgent but you keep it low so you won’t alert the rest of the household.

“What?” Din says confused.

“The child showed me Imperials coming after us, after me,” you tell him. You want to leap out of bed and start getting dressed but you know his helmet is still off and you won’t move until you know his creed is protected. “Please, put on your helmet.”

Din rolls away from you and you hear shuffling before he says, “Ok, turn around and tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t know how he did it, but the child showed me a vision, it was Kerrick, only now he’s a commander and he was looking at a holo of me, and I could feel the danger, that we’re in danger.” Your words are coming out in a jumble but you do your best to explain.

“It could just be a bad dream, couldn’t it?” Din asks.

“How would the kid know about Kerrick? Please, Din, we have to leave, I know that we need to leave.”

“You’re right, cyar’ika, there’s no way the kid could know about your ex-lover, and if you feel that strongly we’ll go right now. It’s ok, don’t panic. I’ll protect you.”

You’re thankful that you have almost everything already packed and you hurry to pull on clothes. You collect the last few things you have strewn about the room before the three of you slink out into the corridor. Thankfully, no one is around and as you stealthily make your way back to the Razor Crest, you manage to avoid seeing anyone. It isn’t until Din takes off and you breach the atmosphere that you feel like you can breathe again. Din is working on putting in coordinates, when a pinging comes in on the long-range scanner.

“There’s an Imperial light cruiser closing in on Angel One,” he states gruffly and he quickly makes the jump to hyperspace.

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“What do you mean she isn’t here? You fucking promised me!” Kerrick’s angry voice rings down the corridor from Mistress Sigrid’s office.

“I don’t know what happened, when my staff went to deliver their breakfast, they weren’t there,” Sigrid explains, embarrassed, “Then we discovered their ship was gone…”

“Such incompetence, no wonder you were of no use to the Empire during the war,” Kerrick sneers at her. He slams his fist down on her desk, “Fucking waste of fuel to come here! Five years of searching and I thought this time I’d finally found her.”

“Sir, they were able to give us some security footage of her. We have her initial interview when she arrived here, and recordings of her competing in some type of contest here.” An ensign brings Kerrick a holopad.

Kerrick brings up the interview footage first, when he sees Din and the child he pauses the images, “This child, she said he was hers?”

“Her ward, she said the Mando rescued him,” Sigrid replies.

“I know this child,” Kerrick says thoughtfully, “Moff Gideon is searching for him, and this must be the troublemaker Mando he spoke about.”

Kerrick looks back at the holopad and stares at your image on the screen. He touches the pad softly as he murmurs, “Still so beautiful, my doll, don’t worry, I’ll find you and bring you back to where you belong. I’ll rid you of that vile Mando and then we’ll be together again, just like it should be. We should have been together today, my doll, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

Suddenly, he pulls out his blaster and shoots Sigrid in the heart before whipping around and stalking out of the room. “Come Ensign, we must contact Moff Gideon and see if we can’t pick up the trail of this Mandalorian.”

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Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. In case you’re wondering, yes, you did remember to grab the sleep masks before you fled ;-) Chapter 8

[jungshookz]

ok anyway build-a-bear employee!jin who meets y/n bc she comes in to make a new friend after a breakup and he teases her for being an adult by herself in the store and after she starts tEARING UP he’s like okok no!!!! and helps her make the cutest lil guy and records a cute message to put inside

➺ pairing; kim seokjin x reader

➺ genre; employee!jin, i brought you to build-a-bear so obviously this is going to be very floofy (sfw!!) 

➺ wordcount: 4k

➺ what to expect; “…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?”

➺ note; when i told u guys that jin always gets the cutest drabble requests i wasn’t LYING!!! i have my own bear from build-a-bear named blu (he’s dark blue with white stars!! at the age of eight i was not very good at coming up with creative names) so obviously i had to write something for him and his homies

                                         »»————-　🧸————-««

jin has a love-hate relationship with his job

you would think that working at build-a-bear would be pretty fun - and it can be, sometimes! - but jin can confirm right here right now that it’s not aLL that great

on one hand, he loves the dramatics of build-a-bear because he’s given the chance to act like the whole store is whimsical and that the tiny little heart that he stuffs inside of the bear is full of magic and hope and happiness (he majored in acting in university so his degree is surprisingly very useful here)

but on the other hand… he works at build-a-bear.

this isn’t where he thought he’d be!!! not at all!!! 

he’s basically almost thirty and he works at a frickin build-a-bear

this wasn’t part of his plan!!!

his plan was to graduate from university, get famous from acting in a small commercial because of his devilishly handsome face, and then immediately get signed onto some fancy hollywood acting deal and become internationally known

but, no!

he graduated from university, didn’t get any roles in any small commercials, and had to find a way to make money so had no choice but to find work at his local mall

and to make things worse, his boss is literally five years younger than him

he has this bratty little twenty-two year old constantly up his ass and he haTES it

“you forgot the whipped cream on my frappuccino.” jungkook looks up at jin from where he’s sitting behind the counter before raising his drink, “am i blind or are you just bad at listening to instructions? where is the whipped cream, seokjin? WHERE?”

jin clenches his jaw before leaning forward, “they were busy, i guess they just forgot. and i’m not your slave. i only got you that drink so you’d give me a day off tomorrow.”

“well, since there’s no whipped cream on it, you don’t get a day off.” jungkook kisses his teeth before shrugging

“wha-“ jin resists the urge to reach down and wrap his hands around jungkook’s neck, “are you kidding me right now?? i spent forty-five minutes out of my fifty minute lunch break lining up at starbucks to get that for you! forty-five minutes!!!”

“i don’t know what to tell you,” jungkook hums as he kicks his legs up onto the counter and leans back against his chair, “now get back to work. and remember to smile! after all, build-a-bear is where best friends are made-“

“the new slogan is ‘the most fun you’ll ever make’.” jin raises a brow, “you don’t even know our slogan! how did you become the manager?”

jungkook takes a slow sip of his drink while maintaining direct eye contact with jin

sChLuuUuRrRRRr

jesus christ

his life sucks

jin rolls his eyes before turning on his heel and heading back to the main area of the shop

today’s saturday, so the store is a little busier than it usually is - which is great, because jin works off commission and he thinks he’s pretty good at selling teddy bears

on his best day he managed to sell thirty-eight bears in one day

he also convinced most of the kids that their brand new furry friends needed new clothes and a personalised recorded message in place of the usual little red cloth heart

he doesn’t like looking at the parents whenever he’s egging their kids on to buy even more things because they always look at him like they’re going to kill him

anyways

he could’ve ordered like forty frappuccino’s from the money he made on that day

before he left for lunch today he sold eight which really isn’t that impressive

but, to be fair, the mall usually gets busy after lunch, so now is the prime time to make some sales

jin lets out a breath as he scans the store for any newcomers or anyone who’s noT already being bombarded by his co-workers

he can’t help but snicker to himself when he notices yoongi at the stuffing station conducting a heart ceremony

“-and now you can go ahead and give your heart a little kiss-“

he looks up for a split second and jin takes the chance to blows a sweet little kiss at him

he snorts to himself when yoongi’s eye twitches

yoongi hates giving heart ceremonies but he’s actually pretty good at it!

he’s good with children whether he wants to admit it or not

alright, enough making fun of yoongi >:-)

time to hunt down a new customer…

jin sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he walks around the store slowly

ooh, a little boy and his family just walked i- aaand they’ve been swept up by jimin

okay, no problem!

how about those twin gir- nope, too late, taehyung’s approaching them

damn

that would’ve been a good sale, too

it’s fine

he’ll get someone!

oh, wow

build-a-bear has really upped their game since the last time you were here

to be fair, the last time you were here was like more than ten years ago, so you’d hope that they make some changes to the store

…are those star wars themed teddy bears??

that is most definitely a princess leia teddy bear

and she even gets her own little light sabre!

wow

this is a whole new world

“excuse me, sorry…” you manoeuvre your way through the crowd as you continue looking through your options

is it weird that you’re in here by yourself?

the thought of trailing behind a random child in order to blend in with everyone else crosses your mind for a split second

although… a grown woman creeping behind a child they don’t know probably isn’t going to sound good to the judge when you’re standing in court, so maybe you shouldn’t do that

okay

you know what

it’s fine

it’s totally fine that you’re in here by yourself!

stuffed plushies are for people of all ages!!

it’s not just a kiddie thing

you’re FINE

and you have a perfectly legitimate reason to be in here

the only reason why you’re even in here is because…

well, the short and sweet version is that you got dumped two weeks ago.

which means that you’ve been cooped up in your apartment for the last fourteen days

which means your bedroom was starting to smell a little ripe so you thought it’d be good to air out the place and give your poor bed a break  

(also, please, for the love of god, remember to wash your sheets when you get back home later today.)

anyways

you thought that a trip to the mall for some retail therapy would make you feel better!

so far you’ve only been the food court but you helped yourself to a cheeseburger, some onion rings, and a vanilla milkshake

food always makes you feel better

you could honestly go for another round of onion rings right now

there’s nothing quite like the pain of having your heart broken nudge you towards the direction of binge-eating the pain away, is there?

you were about to head into a victoria’s secret to splurge on pretty panties (that no one but yourself will be seeing for a long time) but this build-a-bear caught your eye

a cuddle buddy you could ugly-cry into for the simple price of $35?

obviOUSLY you had to come in

the only issue now is that there are way too many options to choose from

who do you want to take home??

pawlette the bunny?

toothless from how to train your dragon?

you could even take pikachu home if you wanted to

“timeless teddy…” you mutter to yourself as you dig out a teddy bear skin (also, it’s very unsettling that they’re called ‘skins’. like, you know that’s what they technically are, but the phrase ‘i’ve picked out my skin!’ just makes your skin crawl.)

you lean forward a little to read the label on the wall

teddy bears are a timeless way to share love with every hug! timeless teddy is a classic teddy bear with shaggy brown fur and an adorable smile. personalize this classic teddy bear with outfits, sounds and accessories for a huggable gift they'll cherish forever!

hm

perfect!

a classic teddy bear sounds perfect

there’s nothing wrong with going back to basics

also, you’re assuming the ‘they’ll’ they’re referring to here is a child

…

nO

you are doing this

you will buy this teddy bear!

your other option was to go and adopt a cat from the shelter but you can barely take care of yourself right now so that wouldn’t be a good idea

“hello!” you jump three feet into the air when you’re suddenly being greeted by one of the bright-eyed workers, “can i help you find anything?”

you turn around quickly while clutching your teddy’s skin (gag) to your chest with wide eyes, “h-hello!”

oh

hello indeed

you feel your heart drop a little when you realise that you probably look disgusting right now

you weren’t expecting to bump into a veRY attractive super handsome boy today!!!

very attractive super handsome boy with sweet brown eyes and soft-looking hair and the poutiest lips you think you’ve ever seen in your entire life-

thank god you decided to wear the sweatshirt that doesn’t have any stains on it, right?

the one thing you remember from your previous build a bear experience (once again, 10+ years ago) is that the workers here are usually overly perky sixteen year old girls

this guy is not an overly perky sixteen year old girl

well

maybe he’s the perky part

but everything else??

wowie

he smiles brightly at you before tilting his head, “hello. i’m jin!” he points at his name tag, “i’d love to help you out today. were you looking for anything in particular?”

“hi! hello, jin. i’m, um, i’m y/n. i was, uh-“ you clear your throat, “i was actually just browsing, so…”

“oh, perfect!” jin claps his hands together, “let me tell you all about our collections. there’s the summer fun collection, the rainbow friends, the promise pets, the heartables, the classic build-a-bear collection-“

yeah okay

he’s definitely nailed the perky part of the job

“-DC comics, dr. suess, marvel, my little pony, how to train your drag-“

“you know, i-“ you smile sheepishly after interrupting jin, “thank you so much, but i’ve actually already made my decision, if that’s alright.” you hold your teddy’s limp, hollow carcass up before pressing your lips together

“of course that’s alright!” jin takes the skin from you before shrugging lightly, “i figured i’d just let you know of all the other options in case your younger sibling wanted something more extravagant than just our timeless teddy. follow me to the sound station!”

you don’t get a chance to say anything before jin spins around swiftly to head to the back of the store

he thinks this bear is for your younger sibling

okay, you can work with that!

you can pretend like you’re in here for your non-existent younger sibling and certainly not for yourself

“you can choose a pre-made sound from here,” jin gestures to the bins of plastic hearts (there’s a sound option for an ‘into the unknown’ snippet from frozen 2 which is insane), “or we can go ahead and record a personalised message. what’s your sibling’s name?”

you look up at him immediately

“wha- um, why… why do you need to know my sibling’s name?”

“oh! i was just asking so i could give you an example.” jin hums as he tosses the skin over his shoulder and places his hands on his hips, “like, you could say, hey there… sibling’s name, it’s me, your big sister! i love you! or something like that.”

“ah, right!” you nod to yourself, “that makes sense! my sibling’s name is totally normal information that i have no problem giving to you.”

jin raises a brow when he notices you continuing to ramble about how your sibling’s name is something that you will be telling him soon because you definitely know the name of your younger sibling whomst’ve this bear is for

hm

you’re cute but you’re a little odd

“-my younger sibling’s name is… paulette!” you catch a glimpse of a pink pawlette bunny being stuffed before looking back over at jin, “yep. that’s her name. sweet, sweet paulette. sweet little angel.”

“hey, our iconic bunny is named pawlette!” jin beams, “wouldn’t you want to get paulette her own pawlette? instead of a bear?”

the smile immediately drops from your face

oh god

you’ve never been very good at lying

one time in middle school when you wanted to get out of PE you told the teacher that you were in pain and that’s why you couldn’t do anything on that day

and when he asked you what hurt, all you said was ‘…bleeding out of my butt?’

you don’t even know why you said that!!

you could’ve told him you had a headache or something but nO

you told your teacher your asshole was BLEEDING and that’s why you couldn’t participate in baseball

so yeah

lying has never been your forte

but you don’t want pawlette!!

you want this bear!!!

although, it would make sense to get paulette her own pawlette because that’d be an adorable coincidence…

what are you-

what are you even sAYING

PAULETTE DOES NOT EXIST

“okay, you got me!” you raise your hands in defence and jin’s eyes widen in surprise, “paulette isn’t a real person. i don’t have a younger sibling. i’m in here for me. the bear is for me. the timeless teddy is mine.”

“oh…!” jin purses his lips before nodding slowly, “alright! totally get it. the bear is for you.”

why has everyone he’s ever been attracted to turned out to be a little cuckoo?

the expected demographic of build-a-bear are children aged 3-10 (a child aged below three isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because they don’t really do anything but sit there and a child aged over ten isn’t interested in stuffed teddies because… they don’t really do anything but sit there.)

and you… well, unless you’ve experienced some kind of insane growth spurt, you certainly don’t look like someone aged 3-10 years old

“phew! it feels good getting that off my chest.” you breathe out as you lean over and place your hands on your knees, “there was a lot of pressure there to keep lying to you but-“

“how, um, how old are you, by the way?”

jin doesn’t mean to sound like a judgy bitch

he’s just genuinely curious as to why a 21-23 year old would willingly go into a physical build-a-bear store to buy themselves a stuffed plushie

you could’ve purchased one off the online website

also, aren’t there better things to spend your money on?

like… literally anything besides a stuffed plushie??

“turning twenty-two soon!” you get back up onto your feet, “why do you ask?”

“…turning twenty-two soon and you’re buying yourself a teddy bear?” jin snorts before raising a brow, “i mean, really? didn’t you graduate this year?”

“ah, well…” you reach up to scratch the back of your neck as you feel the tips of your ears beginning to heat up, “i mean, yeah, but like…”

“i’m not judging! some people go on grad trips to party and get wasted after they graduate, and other people go to the mall to build themselves a $35 teddy bear-“ jin laughs to himself before turning around to plop the skin down on little counter attached to the stuffing machine, “anyways, were you thinking about choosing a sound or recording something?”

he spins back around and his eyes widen when he notices that your eyes have gotten red and are starting to water

oh

uh oh

what’s going on?

what’s happening??

are you…

are you crying??

why are you crying??

he was totally kidding!!!

that wasn’t supposed to be mean!!

that was supposed to be playful banter!!!

“oh- oh, god no- wait-“ jin immediately walks over so that he’s standing in front of you and jungkook won’T be able to see that he just upset a customer, “don’t cry!! i was kidding!! i have, like, ten plushies on my bed! i’m twenty-seven and i work at a build-a-bear, if anything, i should be the one crying-”

“i just-“ you reach up to wipe at your eyes as you begin to blubber, “my boyfriend of one year b-broke up with me two weeks ago and i- i just th-thought that a teddy bear would make good company because god knows i’m not in the right mental state to be taking care of a real animal-!”

jin winces when you let out a particularly loud sob and he quickly drags you over so that the two of you are behind the stuffing machine and out of sighT from everyone

crap

he doesn’t even have any tissues on him!!!!

maybe he can pull some fluff out from the machine and you can dab at your tears with that

actually, the cotton might stick to your cheeks if you try wiping your tears away with a fistful of stuffing, so maybe not

“i-i know it’s stupid and humiliating for a grown-up to be in here buying a stupid teddy bear for herself but there’s so much in my life that’s just out of my control right now a-and making this teddy bear seemed like the only thing i could control and i just-“

“y-yes, of course!” jin pulls you into a tight hug (your sobbing is getting a little loud and people are starting to notice so this is the only way he can think to muffle your crying) and strokes the back of your head comfortingly, “i’m so sorry, i had no idea! that makes total sense, of course you can get this teddy bear for yourself…”

he continues to hold you until your sobs reduce to little hiccups and gives a warning look when yoongi mouths whether or not they should call mall security on your ass

when you pull away your eyes are a little puffy and the tip of your nose is red

if jungkook asks, maybe jin can get away with saying that your allergies acted up in the middle of the store

you don’t look like that because he made you burst into tears

not at all!!

“how about we… record a special message for your new friend?” jin digs through the tub to pull out an electronic heart

“i-“ you hiccup, “i don’t really h-have anything i want to say…”

jin purses his lips in thought

hm

stuffing the bear with a heartbeat heart seems way too basic

this is an important bear!

ah!

“why don’t you let me take care of it, okay?” he reaches over and rubs your shoulder gently, “you wait here and i’ll take care of everything. for his stuffing, would you like a soft cuddle bear or a plump one?”

your bottom lip starts to quiver again and you let out a light laugh, “a soft cuddle bear sounds really sweet.”

“then a soft cuddle bear it is.”

“and this is for you.” jin hands you the box over the counter and you take it from him with a grin, “thank you for your purchase! and… sorry about making you cry-“

“oh, god no-“ you snort, “i’m sorry for bursting into tears and loading all of that on you-“

“it’s totally fine!” jin shakes his head, “you’re definitely not the first person to start crying in a build-a-bear, so there’s absolutely nothing to feel bad about.”

“right! right, of course.” you nod and press your lips together, “anyways, thanks for helping me out today, jin.”

“of course! it was a pleasure.” jin clears his throat

it’s pretty clear that the two of you want to continue talking to each other, but…

jin doesn’t usually practice his flirting skills when he’s at build-a-bear, so pardon him for being a little rusty

“so… see you around!” you chirp, “i’m just gonna-“

“wait, uh-“ jin wipes his hands down on the back of his pants, “i… i don’t know if maybe this is a little too soon for you or… and it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, but… maybe i can treat you to an apology corndog or something sometime? i don’t know. this mall doesn’t really offer fine dining, so a corndog is really all i can-“

“yeah, i would love that!” you nod enthusiastically, “an apology corndog with you sounds great. i mean, a regular corndog would be fine too, but- d-do you… want my number?”

also

this isn’t you rebounding or anything

this is the first time in two weeks where your mind hasn’t been clouded with thoughts of your ex-boyfriend

this is the first time in two weeks that you’re actually happy

jin seems genuinely sweet and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him :-))

also you’re glad that hE was the one who asked

because if you were the one who asked, it’d probably make you look that much more pathetic

and you’ve already made a fool of yourself once today!!  

you sigh happily as you slam the car door shut

you’re about to shove the key into the ignition when suddenly you remember that your bear has a personalised message inside of him

“oh, right!” you reach over to open up the cardboard house that he’s been shoVed into

!!!

you wonder what soundbyte jin picked out for you!!!

you pull him out and smile fondly at the sight of his chubby arms dangling over your hands

cute :-))

this was money well spent for sure

okay, now how do you activate the sound…

there’s a bit of squeezing and poking but you manage to find the little heart inside of him

you perk up when you hear a muffled crackle

“hi, y/n! it’s me, your furry friend… uh… jin bear! if you’re listening to this, it probably means you’re super sad… cry into my stomach to muffle the sound of your violent sobs! …oh, god, probably shouldn’t have said that- anyways, um, i hope you feel better soon! and remember to give me plenty of cuddles - i promise it’ll make you feel better!”

hA

that was actually a pretty good message

(you hope jin texts u soon)

“okay, jin bear.” you murmur quietly as you buckle him into the passenger seat, “time to take you home.”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

[kyoonqs]

iluso amor ; fourth part.

↬ summary: Cora has always considered herself elusive, easy to bore and adventurous to the last fiber of her body. One day for no apparent reason, she appears in front of the manager of a globetrotting circus passing through the city where she is temporarily staying to fill her life with magic. Baekhyun, as serious as he is handsome, has no intention of playing a role other than on the main canvas of the circus. He decides to separate Cora from her life of fantasies created by her travels and sets out to show her reality as raw and cruel as he knows it. Or so he believes.

Will time run out too quickly before love and passion devour him and he decides to risk everything for a love that lasts… Forever?

↬ pairing: baekhyun x cora fem!reader.

↬ circus!au ; illusionist!baek x hitchhiker!oc ; strangers to lovers au!

↬ genre: fluff ; romance ; angst ; drama.

↬ tag list: @changshapatrol @spacebyuns @fluffyhunnie @soos-goddess @hoho-cham​ @shadoukiti @sunbyun21 @mangobaek @suhotly @pororodks @bbhbae @blahblahblah-boo @leewalberg @byunsbobobu @endzii23 @taeilpathic @jennie7​ @ainedreams​ @lylthy​

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

↬ masterlist.

“Leave me alone.”

Cora opened her eyes just enough to glance at the clock and see that it was five in the morning. She wasn't going to argue, much less lose hours of sleep, so she snuggled against the upholstery of the truck –which she had entered half-asleep a few minutes earlier– and closed her eyes again. He slid his eyes down her body and snorted in resignation.

“Are you sure you don't want it?” He said as he shook and offered her the last berry flavored yogurt – despite it being his favorite. He had retrieved it from the refrigerator when he saw that she hadn’t had breakfast since they were about to embark on their next trip.

She snatched it from him and placed it in the compartment at her side. She was quick to return mulling over the events of the three previous night. Cora scanned Baekhyun's face for any trace of resentment but couldn't find it. She was too tired and sad to argue again but if she didn't reply, it would seem that she had given up and was doing what he wanted.

Cora’s days in Fraga consisted of rising early, cleaning the caravan, shopping at the market, cooking for the both of them, covering Gael's stall, attending performance, cleaning up and sleeping. Regarding Baekhyun, she had decided to speak up if she required it and to stay close when she needed help and Talia couldn't help. Although it was hard for her.

With Talia she formed a close friendship, making her the only person with whom she had opened up to most until now. She had learned that the girl came from Goa –a place in India colonized by Portuguese years ago– and that they were practically the same age. Her family had always been part of the circus, not necessarily working under  the same banner but they hailed the lifestyle as tradition. She was a hard-working girl, attentive, funny and above all, very sweet and that moved Cora to the bone.

“It's going to be tough staying here if you don't respond when spoken to, dulzura.”

“What happened three nights ago, I didn't deserve it.” 

He said nothing, and if it hadn't been for the way his lips pursed, Cora would have thought he hadn't heard her.

They continued to travel in absolute silence until, finally, Cora fell asleep. 

Lost in her dreams, she found a more comfortable position and ended up leaning on Baekhyun's shoulder. A lock of her hair fluttered in the breeze and caressed his lips. He let it play there for a while, brushing his mouth and jaw. She smelled of sweet , expensive perfume, like the scent of wildflowers in a jewelry store. 

Cora was right about what had transpired. He had been a fool but only because he was going against his current. He had never met a woman with so many contradictions. She had said he was cynical but she was wrong. Of course he had feelings but they weren't the ones she wanted. Life had taught Baekhyun that he was incapable of having them.

He told himself that he had to pay attention to the road, but he couldn't resist looking down at the warm, lean body that nestled against him. With her legs tucked up on the seat, Cora had finally lost the battle against her fussy dress and now it was raised to show the smooth curve of her inner thigh. Baekhyun's eyes fell on her thighs but he looked away, angry at himself for undergoing such torture. In his eyes, she was beautiful. He had to admit that she was not the young woman he had initially thought her to be. She possessed an unexpected and disturbing sweetness that made her seem more vulnerable than he wanted.

In the afternoon, Cora was exhausted. Only by trying her best had she been able to finish cleaning the trailer, showering, preparing something to eat, and getting to the red wagon in time to service the ticket office. It would have taken a lot longer if Baekhyun hadn't given her a hand by placing the utensils used during lunch, a surprise since he was always running back to his activities.

It was Saturday and she accidentally overheard the brief conversations of workers who came to collect their pay envelopes. Baekhyun had told her that some of the workers who set up tents and moved equipment were troublesome but low wages and poor conditions did not attract more stable employees. Some had been working in the circus for years just because they had nowhere else to go. Others were adventurers drawn to the allure of the circus world but generally no one lasted long there – perhaps even her?.

Baekhyun looked up from his desk when Cora entered the trailer. She was beginning to think a perpetual frown had been drawn onto his face.

“Today Argelia returns. I'll tell her to find you a malliot for the show. When she can help you, I'll send someone to take care of the locker.”

“Remember that I’m not an artist.”

“This is the circus, dulzura. Everyone is an artist.”

Her curiosity about the mysterious Argelia made her ignore his grin. 

“Fionn told me she was a famous aerialist.”

“She’s the last of her generation. Her family is par excellence the owner of trapeze and aerobatics. Stay as far out of her way as possible.” He paused as he got up. “Remember what I told you about the money box. Don't lose sight of it.”

“Okay.” With a sharp nod, Baekhyun disappeared. 

Cora handled the ticket sales without a hitch. The flow of people stopped as soon as the performance began, and she sat on the stairs of the trailer to enjoy the night breeze. She looked at the lights and flags that decorated the small play area of the kermesse that always accompanied the circus which, in addition to attracting children, was another way for the circus to make money. At that moment, an antique Cadillac entered the compound accompanied by a trail of dust. An exotic-looking woman with bright reddish hair stepped out in a tight top, tight rubber leggings revealing her long legs and beaded sandals. Large gold earrings gleamed in the dim light through her tousled hair and a matching pair of bangles adorned her slender wrists. As the woman made her way to the circus entrance, Cora caught a glimpse of her face: pale skin, well-defined features, and a voluptuous mouth emphasized with crimson lipstick. 

This woman was so self-assured that it was impossible for it to be a visitor. Cora knew it could only be Argelia.

Cora chatted with a customer queuing to buy tickets for the second show for a few minutes and by the time he left, Argelia had disappeared. As soon as she had dispatched everyone who came to the box office, Cora began to peruse the contents of an envelope filled with clippings from old local newspapers. Baekhyun's number with the whip was mentioned in several articles dated two years earlier and was not mentioned again until a month ago. She knew that circuses changed performances and performers moved from place to place, which made her wonder where he would have performed in the days he wasn’t traveling with today's circus.

When the first show finished, a tall young man appeared, the same one who had danced with Talia, she still didn't know his name but she knew that he was in charge of organizing the smaller tents and lighting the place.

“I’m Adal. Baekhyun sent me to take care of the box office. You have to go back to the caravan to try on a maillot.”

Thanking the messenger, she headed for the trailer. When she entered, she was surprised to see Argelia, folding the clothes she had left hanging on a makeshift clothesline. Cora felt doubly insulted: first for seeing someone with their hands on her clothes and then for being late. She wouldn’t add to those sins being rude.

“Would you like a cup of tea, maybe a soda?”

“No. I'm Argelia LeBlanc but I guess you already knew that.” Upon closer inspection, Cora noticed the circus owner was wearing more striking makeup than she would have chosen, not that it didn't suit her but combined with the clothes, somewhat provocative, and those extravagant accessories, it was clear her aesthetic had been influenced by life in the circus.

“Baekhyun likes order and he’s known to eat well. You hardly have anything in the fridge.” A deep emotion crossed Argelia's face, revulsion combined with almost palpable hostility. Instantly, Cora realized that Argelia LeBlanc would never be her friend.

“I know, I plan to do it soon. Thank you for telling me.” Argelia looked ready to pounce but Cora knew who would lose, so she pointed to the two sequin maillots on the back of the chair.

“Are those the maillots I have to try on?” The woman nodded with her head. Cora picked up the one on top and realized that it was nothing more than a sequined piece of cloth.

“I have a feeling it will cover me very little.”

“That's the idea. This is the circus. The public expects to see a good portion of skin.”

“And does it have to be mine?” Argelia watched her critically, evidently expecting her to straighten her back. But after beginning to understand how they behaved in the circus, Cora knew when not to clash in arguments. Sincerity was the only defense against experts in malice. 

She went into the bathroom and removed all of her clothes except the panties but when she put on the tiny garment she realized that the cut on her leg was so high they could be seen. She undressed again and started again. When she was done, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt like naked. Two vertical strips with blue sequins covered her breasts, and a wider horizontal strip crossed them. The body of the maillot was nothing more than a fine veil of golden net.

“I don't think I can go out with this.” She exclaimed through the door.

“Let's see…”

“It's too re–” Her words were interrupted when she saw Baekhyun leaning on the sink semi-dressed for the performance. She wanted to run back to the bathroom, and if Argelia hadn't been there, she would have. Why did he have to show up when she was dressed like that?

“Come closer so we can see you.” he said.

Cora stepped forward reluctantly. They were both silent and she had the feeling of being an intruder. Baekhyun didn't say anything, but scrutinized her in such a way that she felt naked.

“Turn around.” Argelia ordered. Cora blushing turned around again.

“It's a show for families, I don't want her to show up like this.” Baekhyun said, closing his eyes with the idea of recording the image just seen in his head, but also seeking control over himself.

“You're right. She doesn't have enough attributes to fill it out properly. Let's see if the other one suits you better.” The woman opened her leotard without warning and pulled it down, leaving Cora naked to the waist. With a gasp, she grabbed the pool of sequins and the net that had slid down her belly, but her fingers were clumsy and it was like trying to catch air. She looked at Baekhyun, who was standing with his ankles crossed and his hands resting on the counter behind her.

“God, you blush like a virgin. Haven’t you ever gotten naked in front of a man?” Argelia's lips curved into a smile.

“Enough, Argelia. Leave her alone.” Baekhyun stepped between the two women, almost as if he wanted to hide Cora's nudity, which was ridiculous, as it was from him that she wanted to hide.

“Give it to me. This one is best.” The loose sleeves of the white shirt flapped as he ripped the red sequin jersey from Argelia's hands. He looked at it and handed it to Cora with some tenderness. She grabbed her jersey and ran into the bathroom. 

When the door was closed, she leaned against it and tried to breathe normally, but her heart was pounding and her skin was burning. Finally she put onthe maillot, and was relieved to see that something more than the other covered her. The sequins of all reddish to orange, in the shape of a tongue of fire, climbed from the crotch to the bodice, where they stuck to her breasts in an irregular and jagged way. The leg openings reached almost to the waist, showing a good portion of skin. She opened the door and reluctantly left the bathroom, at least it covered her waist.

“Where is Argelia?” There was only Baekhyun, leaning on the edge of the table with his hip. Cora gulped and chewed on her lower lip.

“She had to speak to another of the employees. Turn around.”

“You were lovers, right? Was she married to the owner of the circus when you were with her?”

“Not now. Now stop gossiping and let me see you from behind.”

“Wanting to know more about you is not gossiping. I've been looking at some old newspaper clippings and I noticed that you didn't do the circus tour last year. Why?”

“So… What difference does it make? That's none of your business.” Baekhyun was the most reserved person Cora had ever met in her life and she knew she wouldn't get anything else out of him.

“I don't like this jersey. I don't like either of them.”

“You look like an artist.” Since she didn't turn around like he asked, Baekhyun got behind her. The young woman hated being exposed like that and pulled away when she felt him touch her shoulder.

“Stay still. It couldn’t be criticized even by the most conservative.” He grabbed her waist with his other hand.

Baekhyun had gotten so close that her breasts brushed against the soft fabric of his shirt when she turned to him. She shuddered. He lowered the hand he had placed on the girl's waist, sliding it along the bottom edge of the leotard and placing it on the girl's lower back, millimeters from where her buttocks began. Fiery flames shot through Cora from head to toe. She pulled back a little, not because she wanted to sneak away, but because she wanted too much to stay where she was.

“Remember what you told me.” Without taking his hand away from where it was, Baekhyun tilted his head and nuzzled her neck, warming her skin with his breath on her ear. He leaned back and she could see the amber specks gleaming in his eyes.

“Maybe I don't care too much anymore.” Cora's heart raced and she knew she couldn't have escaped even if she wanted to. He looked up and felt as if everything had vanished and there was nothing but the two of them.

Baekhyun's mouth seemed strangely tender to her despite her harsh gesture. He parted his lips and covered her gently, while at the same time, he held her even more against his body. His chest felt broad and heavy against her. When Baekhyun molded his mouth to hers, she experienced a moment of astonishment. His lips were tender and soft in contrast to the rest of her person. 

Cora offered herself to him since she couldn't do otherwise. He stroked her lower lip and brushed the tip of her tongue with his. The sensation made her feel slightly dizzy and she wrapped her arms around Baekhyun's waist, feeling the silky fabric of his shirt under her fingers, then she slid her palms down his biceps. He moaned against her mouth, then his tongue plummeted down on hers. The kiss went wild. 

Baekhyun lifted her against him and pushed her back, pulling her up onto the counter. Cora clung to his back to keep her balance. He stepped between her legs and the decorative chains on his hips dug into Cora's inner thighs. The soft feminine moan resounded like an echo in the warm masculine mouth as he felt Baekhyun's hands on the back of her neck.

“You're beautiful,” he gasped, looking at her. He began to kiss her again while his fingers tangled with the hair on the nape of her neck, making gentle strokes that didn’t stop drawing her towards him. It was too much for her. The brush of the belt jewels on her thighs, the soft caress of his hands.

“Five minutes to the show! Baekhyun!” Someone banged hard on the caravan door. 

Cora jumped off the counter like a guilty teenager and, turning her back to him, nervously adjusted her hair. She felt hot, agitated, and terribly irritated. How could she be so eager to give herself to a man who hardly ever said a kind word to her? She shot into the bathroom but stopped when she heard Baekhyun's soft, husky voice.

“We will continue later, dulzura.”

While Argelia was checking the box office and flipping through a pile of old magazines in the office, Cora sold the tickets for the second show. She did it in a mechanical way, smiling at the customers automatically. Even though she spoke non-stop, she could only think of the passionate kiss she had shared with Baekhyun and barely paid attention to what people were saying. 

She melted at the memory, but at the same time she felt ashamed. She shouldn't have given herself to him with such abandon when he had made it clear to her that she shouldn't romanticize about them. 

As soon as the music for the show's presentation stopped, Argelia left the red car without saying a word, closing the box office behind her. Cora knew that although Argelia would be indifferent, something was bothering her and she couldn't help but believe it was related to her caravan partner, much less stop thinking about what had happened between them.

As she was about to leave the locker, the phone rang and she turned to answer it.

“Circo Gran Fele, how can I help you?” Said Cora, somewhat hesitant, it was the first time anyone had called.

“With Byun Baekhyun, please” said a male voice.

“Sorry, he's not here right now.”

“Could you tell him that I called you? You already have my number. Tell him that Dr. Kim's studio is trying to contact him.”

“I'll give him the message.” She hung up and wondered who the person was as she jotted down the message for Baekhyun. There were too many things about him that Cora didn't know and to tell the truth, he didn't seem like he was going to tell her.

She heard the music that announced the start of the show, the voices of the workers moving from one side of the room to the other, and the usual sounds as they prepared to enter the dance floor. On her way to the caravan, she heard two voices arguing.

Cora noted the tone of Baekhyun’s voice, he was furious. He looked at Argelia and then at the whip that he had curled around his fist –although the woman did not seem as scared as she was– Saturday night was payday for employees and some were already drunk, so he had the whip as a deterrent. However, it was not the workers bothering him. 

The promise that Baekhyun had made to Mael LeBlanc on his deathbed caused him to have constant confrontations with his widow. Argelia LeBlanc was his employer and she was determined to put pressure on him as much as possible. But he was determined to respect Mael's wishes. It was a compromise that didn’t satisfy either of them and it was inevitable that an open war would break out between them.

The two shared a long complicated story that stretched back to the summer when Baekhyun had convinced his parents to attend a function. But everything began to get complicated when he turned fifteen and spent the holidays traveling with the Gran Fele circus. 

The aerialists Paris, like every year, were also on tour that summer and Baekhyun fell madly in love with the queen of center court, who was twenty-one at the time. He spent nights dreaming of her elegance, her beauty, her boldness. The girls he had known so far seemed like little girls compared to the delicious and unattainable Argelia Paris. In addition to feeling a certain affinity for her because they both sought perfection in their work and a will similar to hers, Argelia also possessed an egocentric streak that her father had nurtured and that Baekhyun had never had. 

Basil Paris had made Argelia believe that she was better than the others, however, the trapeze artist also had a softer and more motherly side and, although she was very young at that time, she acted as the first consolation for the other members of the group company, scolded them when they misbehaved and advised them in love affairs.

But Basil Paris had something else in mind, although Baekhyun's circus skill wasn’t as impressive as theirs he had improved over the eight years of seasons, but in Basil's eyes it wasn’t acceptable enough to become the progenitor of the next generation of aerialists Paris and Argelia had pleased her father by falling in love with another man. 

Jealousy had eaten away at Baekhyun and he had vowed to improve in all aspects of his life from then on.

Summer came to an end, and Baekhyun was preparing to go back to school. The same day that Argelia unexpectedly entered her fiancé's caravan and found him stripping one of the tightrope walkers.

He would never forget that night, when the show ended he found the girl waiting for him.

“Come with me.” It didn’t occur to him to disobey her. Argelia led him to the edge of the compound, where they ducked into a small dark space between two caravans. Baekhyun's heart began to pound at her dark, clandestine purpose as he lost himself in the musky scent of her perfume.

The trapeze artist had looked deeply into his eyes. Without saying a single word, she opened her blouse and let it fall from her arms. He had imagined something like that hundreds of times, but fantasies hadn't prepared him to touch such a body, ever.

“Kiss me.” He had shuddered with satisfaction and humiliation. Argelia had then pressed her lips against his, offering him a long, deep kiss. Then she stepped away and turned between the caravans. It was then that he realized that her fiancé had been there the entire time, watching them. The hard, triumphant gleam in her eyes told Baekhyun that she had known it at all times and the feeling caused by that betrayal was so devastating that he couldn't breathe. She didn't care about him. She had only used him for revenge.

Argelia turned again and sealed Baekhyun's lips with a kiss. He understood that cruel display of self-love, like her, he would never let someone or something threaten what he was, no matter the price he had to pay. Despite hating her for using him as a pawn, he couldn't help but respect her for it.

Argelia spent the next few years as a leading artist in the world's great circuses and didn’t tour with the Gran Fele circus until her career began to decline. By then her father had already died and she, single and childless, had become the last Paris.

Mael welcomed her back to the Gran Fele circus and set the show around her. Furthermore, in his infrequent phone conversations with Baekhyun –who had stayed by his side– he revealed enough of him, for him to deduce that Mael had a crush on her.

Baekhyun and Argelia had reunited two summers ago, and it immediately became apparent that there had been a shift in the balance of power between them. In his early twenties, he was in the prime of his manhood and had nothing left to prove, while Argelia's best years as an artist had passed.

The fire of passion crackled between them, but this time she was the one looking for him. 

Baekhyun didn't want to hurt Mael and, at first, he ignored her insinuations. However, it soon became apparent that the circus owner was resigned to the two getting involved and, with his peculiar idiosyncrasy, was offended when Baekhyun continued to snub the woman he valued above all else. Finally, Baekhyun let her into his day to day and although he appreciated her, he didn’t love her. Not anymore.

“Why haven't you gotten married?” Baekhyun asked her one night sitting at the table in the luxurious caravan, where they were preparing to enjoy the second meal of the day.

She put a plate of food in front of him and went back to the kitchen to get hers. But she didn’t return to the table. She stood still staring at the food she had prepared.

“I guess I was much too ambitious. You already know that there are things that cannot be had. I will not marry just anyone, much less without stability. Stability and lineage. It's a good combination.” She took a bite of food and put her fork back on her plate. Then she looked closely at Baekhyun, with a provocative glint in her eyes.

“You know Mael told me years ago that I shouldn't have let you get away. I’m the last of my generation and you… can start one.”

“I have no intention of starting it. I'm sorry but you'll have to look for circus lineage elsewhere.” 

He had suspected at first that such kindness had a reason but he refused to believe that he could be used as a pawn for the second time in his life.

Their fiery relationship carried on, so lustful and peaceful that he paid no attention to the increasingly possessive way she treated him or how, little by little, she began to consider him her equal. Despite the subtle changes in Argelia's behavior, he wasn’t prepared for what happened that summer afternoon in the compound, that day she confessed to him and when she did, he realized that she wasn’t speaking genuinely. 

She was determined to change his mind with the same determination she had once used to achieve the triple jump, and it was only when he was packing to leave after his last performance at the circus that she realized that he wasn’t joking. He had never lied to her. He didn’t love her and he wasn't interested in marrying her. 

When she finally took in that sharp rejection, everything Argelia believed about herself was shattered and she went mad. It was at that moment that she did the inconceivable, which she would never forgive. It was when she begged him not to leave her. She had bowed down her pride, the thing that made her who she was.

At that moment Baekhyun could see how the supposed love that she felt for him turned into hatred. A week later, Argelia married Mael, a man almost twice her age who bore no children, and he was the only one who knew why. His rejection had hurt her to the core of her being and she could only rise from her ashes by joining someone powerful to put her on a pedestal again.

↬ author’s note: Today's chapter explains a lot why Baekhyun is so reluctant to relationships, but can Cora change his mind? tell me what you think! hope you enjoy it! as you know, any feedback is welcome ♡  (as always) thank you for your help and i love you Oliv.

[ziaxkawaii]

Worth more than some perceive (Victorian!Todoroki X F!Reader) Part 3!

Part 1 Here!         Part 2 Here!

~”You’ve got another one.” Your brother announced as he came into the back room, holding another white rose in his hands along with a card tied to it with the brown string.

~You stopped writing in your planner to first look at your brother and then at the rose. You got up.

~”I’ll go and put it in the vase, thank you.” You took the rose from him and carefully untied the string from the stem and threw it into a box on the table that had numerous pieces of the same type of string from the previous roses. It would be a waste of a perfectly good string if you threw them away.

~You went to put the rose into the vase, but then you realized that you should probably change the water in it as the other roses looked a bit whithered. You picked up the vase and brought it to the back to change the water.

~As you poured the water out, the old question resurfaced and you got curious. This has been going on for awhile, and at this point you’re not sure how you should be feeling about this anymore. Should you feel flattered or should you finally open your eyes and start to worry?

~You weren’t sure since you still don’t feel threatened or that you’re being watched, nor has William.

~”What do you make of this, William?” You questioned.

~”The roses? I’m honestly kind of vary of them, or at least the person leaving them.” He answered

~”I’m starting to doubt that these are not gifts of appreciation.”

~”Yeah, there must be a deeper meaning behind them.”

~You placed the roses in the freshly changed water and walked back out to put it back on the side table. Fixed the roses to look a bit nicer and then nodded in approval, ready to start yet another day.

~”But are you exactly worried?”

~”Not really since nothing else has happened yet, but I’m keeping my guard up. You can never be too careful.” You nodded at his response.

~”You’re right.” You agreed.

~Not long after you finished your sentence, a ding sounded through the air, signaling a customer has stepped into the boutique. You turned and immediately whatever worried thoughts you had previously washed away as you recognized the dual-hair-colored male. Seems like he has memorized the time you open the store, down to the minute.

~”Welcome back Todoroki!” You greeted Shoto.

~”How are you feeling this fine morning?” William joined your greeting. Then noticing he came alone this time. “Oh, roaming around alone today?”

~”I’m quite well, thank you. And yes. My butler has quite a lot of duties today, so I let him attend to them instead of coming here with me.” You both nodded in his direction. William nudged you on your arm.

~”Well, I’ll let you handle this one, I’ve got other work to do.” William called as he walked towards the backroom to finally start completing orders. You called him a quick goodbye and then turned to the other male in the room.

~”Well, how can I help you today? Last time you mentioned something about another commission?” You recalled his words from a week ago.

~”You are correct, so I’ll just get straight to the point.” You listened to what he had to say.

~”I would like for you to make a dress for my partner that will be attending the ball with me.” He said and your eyes widened from the request. Not only because he was ordering a dress without this partner of his, but also from the uncomfortable and unknown feeling growing in your chest.

~”I didn’t know you had a significant other.” You commented while trying to sound normal.

~”I don’t.” He said.

~”You don’t?” You lifted your eyebrow confused.

~”I’ll explain.” He breathed as though he was encouraging himself. “It might not seem like it at first glance, but the underlying purpose of this particular ball is for nobles to try and get their children to talk to other nobles' children, in hopes that the pair would get married.” He explained.

~”As the son of the steam train factory owner and founder, avoiding these balls are not an option. With the facts mentioned above, I’m bound to get many entitled women's attention if I come alone.” You started to understand where he was going with this.

~”To prevent this, I’m going to attend with a partner so I can avoid most of the excess attention.”

~You listened to him with interest but also you felt a bit bad for him, him having to go to such lengths to just be in peace. 

~As a child, you’ve always heard wonderful stories about extravagant balls and how they are for the rich to have fun, but as you got older you started to realize that those seemingly magical balls actually had more purposes to them than to just have fun.

~They were also the perfect place to snag yourself a husband or a wife if one was still unmarried, or a woman’s father would pick a husband for their daughter if he saw someone suitable.

~”I see. So I’m going to take a wild guess and bet that your partner doesn’t have a dress that would match your very attention-grabbing suit?” You’ve been in these situations more often than you could count, so you had a hunch why he came here.

~”It would be better if I and my acquaintance would wear similarly styled clothing.” You nodded along to his words. Agreeing that it would look kind of odd if his partner had a completely differently styled and colored dress than him.

~Of course it wasn’t uncommon for a pair to not match ‘at all’, but the ball Shoto described he was going to, indicated to you that the pairs should at least wear something matching, be it the pattern of the fabric, style of the clothing or accessories.

~”Of course, I’m sure I’ll be able to make a dress for your partner in a couple of weeks. Do you happen to know her favorite style of dress or her size? Then again It would be even better if they could come to the boutique and tell me themselves.” 

~You hated the feeling in your gut, the fact that you felt slight jealousy towards the unknown person who would have the pleasure to spend time with someone like Shoto Todoroki. Not because he was rich and handsome, but because he was genuinely polite and kind. He treated the noble and not-so-well off the same because he saw them all as people.

~You shouldn’t feel this way. It’s none of your business who he’s going to be dancing with. You’re just his tailor, nothing more.

~”Actually, I have not asked them yet.” He said pretty stoically but you could catch a hint of nervousness and embarrassment. You stood there for a moment, going over his words a few times until you found your voice again.

~”...You want me to make a dress for a woman,... who isn’t even aware that they’re going to a ball with you?...” You inquired, speaking every word clearly in case you’ve somehow heard him wrong and he would correct you. 

~Again, it’s not uncommon for people, most commonly men, to buy their partners dresses as a surprise. But those dresses were cheap summer dresses that were only slightly modified to the receiver’s liking, not perfectly fitted and sewn gowns that cost more than someone's whole month's rent!

~”Yes.” He confirmed. “You see, every time I attempt to build up the courage to ask them, I shy away like a small child behind their mother's dress.” He explained a bit bashfully. So that was the case, huh. “And the ball is only a short while away, so if we start the dressmaking process any later, it might be too much work on your end.” You silently appreciated his thoughtfulness.

~It was kind of hard to believe. Shoto, a very stoic man with power and good looks, felt nervous asking a woman to attend a ball with him. Then again, everyone had insecurities about literally anything one could imagine, he was no different you supposed so you had no right to judge.

~”I’m sure they would love to attend the ball with you. If they know you the same way as I do, I’m sure they’ll accept the invitation from someone as kind as you.” You reassured him, pushing down the feeling in your gut and focusing on helping, dare you say, your friend. He deserved it.

~He give you one of his rare smiles that made your heart melt for some unknown reason.

~”Thank you for the advice.” He bowed his head to you slightly. You shook your head.

~”No need to thank me.” You said with a smile. “Anyway, would you like to discuss more about this dress that you’re ordering?”

~”Yes.” He answered simply.

~”Alright, what kind of dress do you think she would like? Any references you can think of she might find appealing?” You asked, bringing out your trusty notebook.

~”I do not know what she would like.” He boldly said and you sweatdropped. This is going to be very hard…

~”Do you know her measurements?” You tried again but he just shook his head.

~”Not an exact number.” He said a little bashfully, it was improper for a gentleman to talk about a lady’s size.

~”Y-You must at least know something, I can’t do a dress with little to no information! I need references here!” You said half-panicky. This was already stressing you out and you have barely even begun. 

~How are you supposed to make a dress not knowing what the receiver wants? What if they don’t like the color or the style? Or what if the gown is too small, too big or the hem is too long? So many things can go so wrong here, it’s not even amusing!

~Just as your soul was about to leave your body, Shoto brought back your attention.

~”May I look at you for a moment?” He asked. You blushed slightly from the bold request.

~”S-Sure, but may I ask why?” You asked in return and he gestured for you to come from behind the counter. You walked to the front and stood in front of him and he started to eye you up and down. You felt slightly nervous under his gaze as he circled around you and compared your height to his, but you kept your unmoving stance. After a moment, he nodded.

~”Yes, your measurements are going to be perfect.” He announced and you took a double-take. Is this man serious?

~”Are you certain!? You want me to use my measurements for the dress?”

~”The measurements will do, you are the same height and size.” You almost wanted to tell him to reconsider so he wouldn’t be making a big mistake, but you figured he wouldn’t be changing his mind, so you relented.

~”If you say so. Then how about the style?” You inquired again, in hopes that he would now have something in mind, but you had a feeling he didn’t.

~”As I said, I know next to nothing about style.” He reminded you calmly and you thought for a second when you came up with a solution.

~”How about I show you different styled dresses and then you can see if one of them catches your eye?”

~”We can do that.” He agreed. 

~You asked if he was fine with coming to the backroom to look and he said he was fine with it. You said quick hi to your brother as you entered the room and brought Shoto to a clothing rack full of finished gowns that you have not yet mailed or given to the customers that ordered them. You skimmed through them and each time you explained to him what style it was and the price, which he didn’t seem to be too concerned about.

~”All of them are good in my opinion, I think I should just leave all the designing to you.” He spoke and you started to sweat again from anxiety. He can’t possibly be dumping this on you. 

~This wasn’t a discussion about his suit. Shoto had little references or wishes when he ordered his clothes, so it was fine for you to design them for him.

~Right now you are discussing about a dress that a woman was going to be wearing to a ball, and women tend to be very selective about what they wear even to the market. So you are basically screwed in this situation.

~”Todoroki, I understand that you are nervous about asking them, but I’m really about to faint from anxiety over this dress over here!”

~”You don’t need to take so much stress over it.” He hopelessly tried to help you.

~”Do you really think that’s going to help me calm down?...” 

~”What I mean is… No matter what kind of dress you sew, I know it’s going to be fantastic.”

~”Todoroki, many women are picky about their clothing. Even if one dress is pretty, they might still prefer a different one.” You explained. He seemed to be in thought for a minute. You turned back to the rack while you let him in his thoughts. ‘How am I going to resolve this?’

~”How about that dress?” You heard him ask. You turned around to look at him and saw him point at a draft of a dress that hung on the wall next to your desk, your eyes widened a smidge. You walked over to the draft and admired it.

~”I have never done this dress before.” You admitted as you traced your eyes over the simple but beautiful dress that you had drawn. “No customer has ordered it before.”

~”How come?” He asked again.

~”Well, they never come to the backroom for instance so they don’t see it.” You stated as you started to run your fingers over the worn parchment. Your dream dress. Your perfect dress to meet a kind prince in a flower garden at night, while the stars twinkle and bare witness to the two people falling in love, as they dance the night away under the moon light.

~”Do you plan on one day making it?” 

~”What for? It’s too expensive for me to make a dress for a chance that it would be one day bought. I never go anywhere where I would need to wear so formal clothing. It would only be a waste of perfectly good fabric.” You said solemnly as you looked at the drawing again. Which Shoto seemed to notice.

~It was pretty quiet for a moment, you went over your options in your mind briefly. Maybe you should just do one of your more popular styles and hope for the best. You were about to suggest your idea to Shoto, but he beat you to it, and boy were you speechless after that.

~”Would you be willing to make this dress if I ordered it?”

~Will this man ever stop surprising you? Probably not, but you’re pretty sure you’ll always react the same way as you do now, Staring him down and looking for any clues in his body language that he’s pulling your leg.

~”You want this design made?”

~”Yes, I think it’s a very beautiful gown and it would be a shame to just leave it as a draft.” He reasoned.

~”You’ll never cease to amaze me…” You breathed out, not sure if you, once again, should start to second guess his decision. “At this point I would be asking you to reconsider, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t be changing your mind.”

~”You would be correct.”

~”But why Todoroki? Why do you have so much trust in me?” You inquired.

~”Because you’re my friend,” He answered with no hesitation. “I would go as far as to say that I trust you more than some of my family members.” He admitted. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘Alright I was not expecting that.’

~”I literally have no words.” You said dumbfounded.

~”There’s no need for any, I’m simply trusting you because I see you’ve got a good taste, and it would be an insult if a customer didn’t trust their tailor.” He flashed you his million dollar smile, and you almost collapsed to the floor right then and there. Cheese… You swear you’re soon going to have a heart attack from how hard your heart was pounding.

~“R-right, then I’ll make this dress if that’s what you wish, Todoroki.” Damn you and your stuttering.

~”Please, call me Shoto.” You looked at his heterochromic eyes seeing nothing but certainty in them. Your cheeks grew slightly pink.

“Sure, Shoto it is.”

~~~~~~

~You eyed the dress on the mannequin probably for the millionth time as you circled it, brushed off non-existent dust, or rearranged the hem of the dress to look better, even though it was already perfect.

~Saying you were nervous was an understatement of the century. You just couldn’t stop yourself from fidgeting and pacing around the back room. You have been walking around so much that you swore there is a clear path marked on the ground from where you have walked.

~”Just calm down will you? He asked you to make the dress from your drawing and you did just as he had asked.” William followed your pacing form with his eyes, and has been doing so for 10 minutes when the clicking of your short heels on the wooden floor became too distracting.

~”I’m not particularly worried about his opinion and you know it.”

~”I know dear sister, but why should you worry about a one woman’s opinion when you have not even met them?” William leaned on his desk and folded his hands over his chest.

~”They could complain to Shoto of the design or fit and then I would get a mouthful from him.” You imagined horrified as you pulled on your hair.

~”My gods..” He breathed out. “Now that is ridiculous. If his partner does not like the dress then it is not your battle, it’s Shotos and he can’t blame you for it.” He attempted to smack some sense into you. “And I doubt he would be that kind of person.”

~You finally stopped your mindless wandering. Breathing in deeply, and then exhaling. William eyed you. You turned to him.

~”I’m still nervous.” You admitted.

~”I’ll be alright.” He got up to rub your shoulders comfortingly. “Why don’t we calm your nerves with a cup of tea before he arrives-” He was cut off by the ding of the boutique bell. You tensed up.

~”I guess not then.” Your brother hummed. “Good luck!” He gave you a shove towards the doorway and immediately went over to his sewing machine to pick up from where he left off. You sighed and pushed your way to the main area.

~Shoto stood at the entrance, and he smiled as soon as you appeared in the room. You admitted, his smile did ease your nerves a bit, who wouldn’t feel comforted by that gentle smile?

“Welcome back Shoto.” You greeted your friend.

“Hello (Name). It’s relieving to be back, my father has been driving me mad.” He expressed as he hung up his jacket. You laughed lightly at his words.

~”I can imagine. Didn’t you mention he has been pestering you about some matter for some time?” You recalled the last time you spoke, which was a couple of days ago.

~”Yes, however this day has to be the most annoying of them all.” He walked over to the front counter where you stood.

~”How so, did something happen?”

~”You could say that, my father and I got into an argument over the most foolish thing. But I won’t ruin your day by complaining about it.” You felt bad for him that he must put up with his demanding father so much. Anyhow, it was not really your place to snoop into.

~”Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” You inquired.

~”Definite.”

~”Then I will not pry.” You announced, defeated. “The dress is ready, you want to have a look?”

~”I most certainly do.” He answered, with what you could’ve sworn to be excitement.

~”Then I’ll go get it, just a minute.” You disappeared into the backroom to go retrieve the gown. You took a moment to admire it for the last time. It was your dream dress. The dress you dreamed you would own once you grew up. The perfect fairytale dress for a magical ball.

~And now it was going to be someone else's dress for a ball.

~You tore your eyes off it. Not wanting to get too attached to it than you already were. You gathered up the hem of the dress and started pushing the movable mannequin to the main area.

~At least you actually got to make it in the first place.

~You rolled the mannequin over the threshold and over to the mirror. Spread out the skirt once it was in the perfect spot. And brushed out any odd creases. You stepped back and looked at Shoto’s reaction. He was speechless. Eyeing the gown with the most careful and amazed look you’ve ever seen. Even going over every ruffle and gem sewn on it with a delicate touch.

~”What do you think?...” Your question snapped the man from his daze as he turned to you, still a bit blown away.

~”It’s...It’s gorgeous, there’s nothing else I could possibly say.”

~”T-Thank you Shoto, I appreciated it.” Why were your cheeks getting warm, you get acknowledgement from customers all the time.

~”I like it very much, can you pack it for me, please?” He asked.

~”Of course I can.” You playfully answered and he rolled his eyes. You skillfully pulled the dress off the mannequin and carried it to the front counter to fold it neatly and pack into a big brown box.

~”Here’s the exact amount.” He handed you a check, and you took it just as you finished tying a dark-green ribbon around the box.

~”Here you go, feel free to stop by whenever.” You said your usual line as you expected to see him take the box and leave with his usual goodbye, but to your surprise, he doesn’t.

~You questionably tilted your head to the side, wondering what he was up to. Shoto then pushed the big box towards you and simply said:

~”Here, this is for you.”

~You blinked… Then twice… and after the third time you did and he did not move from his spot or do anything, you allowed yourself to once again question this man’s actions. This occurrence is starting to become a routine… It probably already is.

~”What is the meaning of this?” You inquired dumbfounded, thinking this was one big joke. Staring at the just tied up box on the counter like he wanted to return it.

~”It’s for you. For you to have as your very own.” But it was the opposite. He wanted to give it to you. For you to have as your own.

~”Wh- what are you..?” You stopped yourself before you started speaking total gibberish.

~”I understand this may come as a bit straight forward and unexpected, but would you like to accompany me to the ball this weekend?” He inquired while he looked at you with hope and nervousness in his heterochromatic eyes. Despite this, you still had to ask.

~”Are you tricking me?” Shoto flinched a bit when you didn’t answer immediately, then again, why did he think you would? He breathed to calm down his own nervousness.

~”I am not, I assure you, I’m most definitely serious.”

~”But why would you… ask me? What about the partner you’ve been talking about?” You fired question after question. Did his partner turn him down? Are they unable to attend? Are you his last available option?

~”I will gladly explain myself… if you let me.” Shoto said meekly while fiddling with the giant ribbon of the gift box. 

~You allowed him to begin explaining, curious and, should you say, eager to hear what he had to say. Part of you still believing that whatever he was going to say, was going to hurt you one way or another.

~”When I first came into this boutique or rather was forced in here by my father, I thought that this suit tailoring process was going to be just like the previous ones I’ve been to. So bland and emotionless. Most of the tailors I’ve worked with were always driven either by money or leverage, not really caring about what or how they were sewing as long as they made the most profit.” He wasn’t looking at you, but at the smooth green ribbon between his delicate fingers.

~”When I came here, and we started the designing process, I was kind of taken off guard how much you cared about what you were doing. Always asking me if I was alright with what you had planned, in such a gentle way.” He squeezed the ribbon a bit more tightly.

~”I didn’t think too much of it at the time. By the second time I visited, I really started to see the passion in your eyes and hear the fire of enthusiasm in your speech. It showed on the clothes you made, managing to make so much more of the measly fabrics that you use, proving that you don’t need the best of the best to make something brilliant.” He let go of the ribbon, letting it slip from his grasp.

~“This side of you caught my attention like a shooting star on a cloudless night. I became interested in your passion and wanted to observe it more.” You tried your hardest not to blush, but your body betrayed you as your cheeks felt a tad bit warmer.

~“Every visit I would learn more about you and I couldn’t help but be captivated. You are so different from me that so many things you talked to me about were things that I have never even thought about. It’s refreshing to hear such things when you live the life I do.” He admitted.

~”Then… what was going on when you set the order for this gown?” You clearly could see his cheeks turn a shade darker.

~”At the time, I couldn’t build up the courage to ask you. So I made up an explanation that I had not yet asked my partner to the ball and needed the dress made before it was too late. Actually, I wasn’t technically lying.”

~”So… I… Was the partner you were planning on asking, this whole time?” You had a hard time wrapping your head around it.

~”From the moment I asked you to make this dress.” He confirmed. 

~‘Oh how romantic.’ You thought with a slight laugh. These types of occurrences only seemed to happen in fairy tales, it was unbelievable. You noticed the white rose that poked out Shoto’s breast pocket. It was exactly the same looking as the ones you’ve received for weeks now.

~”That rose!” You suddenly exclaimed, startling both yourself and the male opposite of you. Your demeanor then immediately changed back to your meek demeanor when you realized that it could’ve just been a coincidence. a Really, really weird coincidence.

~”You finally noticed.” He commented. “What did you think of the roses that I left you? Were they a bit too much?” He nervously scratched the back of his neck. Why did he feel so nervous this whole time?

~”So it was you who kept leaving these in front of my front door and not some random guy who kept on mistaking the address.” You made quite a bold move and pulled the rose out of its previous sitting place and started to play with the petals of the flower. Gently feeling the velvety surface with the pads of your fingers. What a satisfying feeling.

~”That’s what you thought they were?”

~”Well I didn’t know what else to think. I didn’t really consider that they could’ve been from you though.” You looked at the delicate bloom in your hands. “But I’m glad they were from you, they really made me feel special.”

~”Do you know what will make you feel even more special?” He leaned closer to your face, so close where both of your breaths mixed, but you did not pull away.

~”What?” You inquired like an innocent maiden as you bravely peered into his miss-matched eyes, no-longer with shyness but calm anticipation.

~Boldly, Shoto closed the already small distance between you and gave you the most gentle and affection-filled kiss you’ve ever had in your life. Your knees would have buckled from under you, had you not taken a firm grip on Shoto’s shoulders, and Shoto taking a hold of your waist. Rose falling from your grasp, and onto the floor.

~He deepened the kiss even more and you gladly accepted it, embracing him with warm and welcoming arms. Soon, the need for air forced you to pull apart but you remained in each other’s hold.

~”Well, what do you say? Will you come to the ball with me?” He inquired again. You smiled again.

~”Of course I will.” He smiled and leaned in to give you another, shorter kiss.

~You suppose William will have to manage without you for a while.

[samthemarvelfan]

I Won’t Say: Chapter Seven

-Torn-

Summary: Ellaria Stark is the daughter of a king. When she is unwittingly betrothed to the King of a neighboring city, she isn’t sure how to feel. More importantly, she isn’t sure how the King will feel if he finds out the truth about her.

Pairing: James Barnes x OFC, Ellaria Stark. (Stark!Reader.)

Warnings: Royal!AU, ANGST, betrayal, kidnapping, verbal altercations.

A/N: This one is a bit longer, bur its FULL OF DRAMA. Please don’t hate me at the end. I had to do it! >:)

James has been noticeably absent from the castle the past few days. He was always off meeting with the foot soldiers and Sir Sitwell, in hopes of keeping the people of Buchanan as safe as possible.

There hasn’t been another incident, thank goodness, and with your engagement ball this evening, you’re hoping to maintain the status quo.

“Everything is coming along beautifully, Ellaria. Fret not.” Natasha smiled, stirring the bath for you. She added orange-colored petals to the beautiful milk-blue water, and the aroma immediately relaxed you.

You leaned back against the basin and closed your eyes. “I don’t think I’ll stop worrying until I’m married...and even then I’ll be a nervous wreck that somehow I’ll mess up.”

“You truly care, don’t you? Most women would be more concerned with their appearance for the ball, but not you. You, my future Queen, are already worrying about others.”

You smile, opening your eyes and massaging the oils across your chest. “I’m following in beloved footsteps. Her Majesty was so loved and revered by her people. I’ve been reading quite a bit of the history.”

Natasha tutted, “You’re supposed to be relaxing.”

“Nat, I don’t think I know how to relax. My Mother always says I’m like my Father in that way; too worried about the when and then to enjoy the now.” The memory alone made you smile.

Nat noticed, “You must be so excited to see them tonight.”

She held up your bathing robe and helped you step out. “I am. I only wish Morgan was coming, but Mother assures me she will be here for the wedding.”

My wedding. In just seven days time. You thought to yourself.

Once out of the bath, you dressed into a simple silk robe—not wanting to dress until this evening. Besides, Natasha was most likely not going to allow you to do anything but relax.

She cleared her throat, “Ellaria?”

“Hm?” You ask, brushing your hair.

Nat finishes making your bed as she speaks. “Have there been anymore incidents?”

You shake your head. “No. Thankfully, but the King has also been visiting with me more, so maybe the person has lost their confidence?”

“Oh he has, has he?” She asked suggestively.

“Natasha!” You scold playfully, “I simply mean he has been checking on me more frequently. That’s all.”

God, how I wish there was more to tell.

A reserved knock on your door draws Nat’s attention. “Stay,” she says, “I’ll get it.”

You watch as she approached the door cautiously. She puts her ear to it before calling out warily. “Who is it?” 

You heard the clearing of a throat, “Oh, it’s Peter. I come with a message for the Princess.”

Nat laughed, as did you. Peter was so eager to please and happy to help. “Come in!”

The door opened slowly, “Hello, Peter.” She greeted.

Peter’s face flushed, “H-Hello...Miss Romanoff.”

You stood, assuring your robe was tied tightly. Peter averted his gaze for a moment.

“What message have you, Peter?” You smile.

“Oh!” It’s then you notice he’s holding a small navy-colored, velvet satchel, along with a note. “I was told to give these to the Princess, it’s from King James.” He smiled.

You heart fluttered, “Really?” You ask happily.

He nodded, “Yes, I was told to make sure I give it straight to you.”

You look to Natasha, who’s smiling proudly at you. “Peter, where is the King now?”

He looks awkwardly as he shift his weight from foot to foot, “The King isn’t back from the borders yet, but Sir Steven assures he will see you tonight.”

A small amount of sadness washes over you, but you understand. Duty calls.

“Thank you, Peter.”

“My pleasure, your highness! I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

Natasha smirked at his eagerness. “Peter, why don’t we give her majesty some time to be with herself, is that alright, Ellaria?”

You nod, “I will see you for the dressing?”

“Of course.” She bowed.

When Peter and Nat had left your chambers, you sat on the edge of your bed, letter in hand.

This is the first note James had ever written you, so naturally, you were nervous to read it. With shaking hands, you opened the parchment carefully, and read his words.

Princess,

I hope you are well. I cannot wait to have you in my arms this evening.

You will no doubt be bathed in beauty and elegance. You are so everyday, tonight I’m sure will be no different.

I am bestowing upon you a special gift, I do hope you wear it proudly. I cannot wait to see you in it tonight.

I look forward to celebrating our future, and to watching the future of Buchanan unfold.

-James

Your heart soared at his words. The two of you had been getting closer, and thankfully so. Small glances, the shared moments, light touches that set your skin ablaze.

You wanted him in every way, and it seemed he wanted you as well.

You carefully opened the velvet satchel, and pulled out a beautiful diamond and sapphire broach. It was clearly an antique and very valuable, and James entrusted it to you.

“My goodness...” you said to the empty room. It will match your gown perfectly, and you couldn’t wait to show the King just how much you appreciate his gift.

“I feel like I’m going to be sick, Nat...” you said as she gave you a once over.

“Breathe, Ellaria. Just imagine it is only the two of you.”

You let out a hefty breath. “But it’s not just the two of us. I want to make a good impression and my parents will be there...I just hope I make them proud.”

Natasha stepped back, admiring her handy work. “You look breathtaking, your majesty.” Her voice was earnest; she believed in you.

“I couldn’t have done any of this without you. Thank you, Natasha.” Instinctively, you hugged her. Though taken aback, she hugged you in return.

“I will clean up while you head for the ballroom. Go on, don’t keep your betrothed waiting!” She jested, ushering you out.

Once in the hallway, you unwrapped the broach from the handkerchief you’d kept it safely stored away in, and pinned it on above you left breast.

Sir Samuel rounded the corner, “Ready, your majesty?”

A moment passed before you nodded your head. “Ready.”

Natasha gatherer the old sheets due for a washing in a pile on the floor.

A final sweep of you room confirmed your safety, and she was on her way out when a piece of parchment fell from the sheets she’s scooped up.

It had you name on it, but it was in a writing she didn’t recognize.

Nimble fingers opening it carefully, she nearly jumped out of her skin when someone knocked at the door.

“Natasha? What are you still doing here?” Steve said with a smile.

A sigh of relief passed when perfect lips. “Unlike some of us, I actually have to work around her.”

She was smirking as she nudged his hip. “What’s that?” Steve asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “I don’t recognize the writing, do you?”

Nat handed it over to Steve, who read your name aloud. “No, no not at all.”

With as much care as Natasha would have, Steve opened the parchment and began reading the page. His face immediately registered alarm.

“Natasha, where did Ellaria get this?” Steve’s tone was rushed.

“Peter, he brought it earlier with a parcel and said it was from James. Steven, what is it?” She asked, taking the page from him.

“That is not the King’s writing. No where near it. Where is Ellaria now? What was in the parcel?”

Nat began to panic, “Samuel collected her already, and I’ve no idea. She opened it in private.”

A moment of thought, and Steve is running out the door. “Find Peter at once.”

The ballroom was full of people. Families and children and some select members of court. You watch in amazement at the joy on their faces; it came together perfectly.

Golden sconces adorned the walls, and the navy curtains and linens complimented the golden accessories. Candelabra’s on each feasting table and the most perfect musical accompaniment.

“That cannot be my daughter. She so regal, so grown!” You heard your father’s voice behind you and tears began to well almost instantly.

“Father! Mother!” You shout, running into his arms. “Oh, I’ve missed you so!”

He held you as if you’d float away. “My treasure, look at you...”

“Tony, don’t ruin her gown...” Mother scolded. You turned and hugged her as well. “You look perfect, my love. Like a true queen in the making.”

An emotional sigh escaped you, “I hope I live up to you, Mother. Thank you for all you’ve taught me, and all you’ve given me in my life. I will not waste it, I swear.”

You heard the bang of a staff, and suddenly, butterflies filled your stomach.

“Ready?” Father asked you.

A nod was all you could muster as a reply.

The court crier called the attention of those in attendance. “Citizens of Buchanan, please welcome their royal majesties, King Anthony Stark and Queen Virginia from the Iron Kingdom.”

Father looked at you, “We shall see you out there; head high, Ellaria. Head high.”

Watching as they walk through the velvet curtains into the ballroom, you adjust your stance, and assure you’re looking as perfect as possible.

“It is my joy to present her royal highness, Ellaria Stark, heir to the Iron Kingdom and future Queen of Buchanan.” The crier called.

“Here we go...” you whispered.

As you walked into the ballroom, you heard gasps and chattering amongst the crowds.

“She’s enchanting...”

“Our Queen!”

“Such grace and beauty!”

The heat rose to your cheeks almost instantly, hearing their words and feeling all the eyes in the room on you. Your father and mother smiled at you from there seats at the head table as you moved to the center of the room.

One final bang of the staff, “Citizens of Buchanan, it is my honor to present his royal highness, James Barnes, protector and King of Buchanan.”

The crowd went silent almost instantly, and you locked your eyes on the doorway.

When James walked in, he looked more handsome then you’d ever seen him. Dressed in a deep navy tunic, adorned with golden buttons and buckles. Black, leather pants and boots, and his crown placed perfectly atop his chestnut locks.

When he stopped just short of you, the crown began to applaud their king. James smiled at you lovingly, as he took in your dress.

His eyes seemed to lock into your chest, and you’re sure it’s because of the beautiful gift he gave you. Suddenly though, his demeanor shifts. His eyes become enraged as he storms toward you, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t frighten you.

“James—“

“How dare you!” He shouts, cause the crowd to still.

You shake your head, “What? What’s the matter?” You were entirely lost, you’d thought everything was perfect.

His jaw was clenched. “Do you mock my grief?”

It was strange seeing him this way; so obviously full of rage, but with tears behind his eyes.

“James, I do not understand...” You say with a quivering lip.

He grips your bodice harshly, and tears at your chest with his metal arm, ripping the broach from its place. Your dress was torn to shreds at the top, exposing nearly all of your chest.

“You think yourself worthy of this? The broach my mother wore when her throat was slit?” He shouts.

The crowd of people gasped at the sight before them. You hands rush to shield yourself from either humiliation.

“What is the meaning of the, Barnes?!” Your Father asks, rushing to your side.

The King ignored him. “Get out of my sight. You’re a liar and a thief! Get out of my home, and go back where you came from!”

You started running before he finished, through the the corridors back to your room. What happened? James had given you that broach, did he not? He wrote a letter and all.

Unless the letter was not from James. You thought.

It doesn’t matter anymore. There is surely no repairing what was done tonight. The court saw James disrespect and denounce you, as did his citizens. You had no choice, you must leave Buchanan.

Tonight.

“Steven! Enough! He’s just a boy!” Natasha shouted as Steve tossed Peter across the room.

...again.

“Was it you?! Did you plot against the Princess?!” Steve shouted, grabbing Peter and forcing him to look up.

Peter was visibly shaking, word had quickly traveled of what transpired at the ball only a few minutes ago, and Steve wasn’t happy.

No one was happy.

“No! No Sir, I swear it!” Peter shouted, almost in tears.

“Peter who gave you the parcel for her majesty?” Natasha asked softly.

Peter hesitates, afraid no matter what his answer, he’d be tossed around again. Natasha read the boys face, and saw the fear in his eyes.

She placed her hands on Steve’s, and he softened at her touch. Moving him aside, she crouched down in front of Peter.

“Who was it, Peter?”

The boy let out a sigh, one of relief. “It was Miss Carter. She told me it was at the King’s behest. She said I was to bring the parcel and letter to the Princess and that the king said it was of the utmost importance.”

Steve and Natasha shared a glance. “Looks like Miss Priss is up to her old shite...” she seethed.

Steve extended a hand to Peter, hoisting him up. There was no exchange of words, the gesture was enough.

“I’m going to find Sharon. You go find Bucky.” Nat said, heading for the door.

“Natasha wait, one of us needs to get the Princess and tell her. She must feel so betrayed.” Steve said grimly.

She nodded, “Alright, inform the King of the traitorous acts of the foul shrew. I will make sure Ellaria doesn’t do anything drastic.”

“Peter?” Steve called.

“Sir?”

“Find Samuel. Have him rally the the King’s Guard.”

Peter nodded, “Yes, Sir.”

You knees were pulled to your chest.

Where were your parents? What if...

No. No, he wouldn’t hurt them. Would he?

Your trunk was packed and your belongings put away, any sign you had been in the room had been erased.

Was this the King’s plan? To embarrass and belittle you because he didn’t want to marry you after all? The thought alone broke your heart.

The way his eyes so easily filled with hatred, how he put his hands on you so harshly and tore away your dignity. A man like that was surely incapable of love.

You felt a fool.

Pounding on your door startled you.

Jumping up, you hoped it to finally be your parents. You swung it open quickly, only to find a face you hadn’t expected.

“Sir Sitwell? What are you doing here?”

He looked down the hall and behind you, “I’m here to escort you to your parents carriage, your majesty.”

“Oh,” you hesitate for a moment. “Where is Sir Samuel? And Steven?”

He cleared his throat, “They’ve been summoned by the King, I’m afraid.”

You nod, understanding. “I’ll grab my trunk—“

“No, no. There’s no time. I shall have someone run it down, come quickly.”

He ushered you forward, assuring the door to your room closes behind you.

The walk is silent and awkward and rushed. “Are my parents alright?” You ask.

“What? Yes, yes of course they are. Come quickly.” Sitwell responds.

You round the corner to the front of the castle and see three men, dressed in colors that aren’t Buchanan’s. “Who are they?” You ask, slowing your pace.

The men approach you quickly, “Sorry about this, Princess.” Sitwell says with a smirk.

The next thing you know, a napkin is covering your mouth. You screech to no avail, inhaling something that makes you feel faint. Blackness is invading your vision and your legs give out.

Soon there is nothing but darkness and the cold cobblestone floor against your back.

Taglist: @iheartsebastianstan @jjlizz @stuckysbabe @sk493494 @lefoutoir @nickangel13 @marvelismysafezone @lilulo-12 @warmvanillafeels @star-spangled-beard-burn @ravenesque @pinknerdpanda @wintersoldierissucharide @snapcapquartet @ellen-reincarnated1967 @unlistedpond @my-drowning-in-time @supernaturalwintersoldier @kimvmarvel @roseboho @winterboobear11 @choicesloversstuff @disaffectedbarnes @igothroughphasesalot (strikethrough means the tag didn’t work! I’m sorry!)

[the-house-of-the-nine]

LFC / RP ---- The Serpent Inquisitor

The Basics ––– –

Name: Lazarius Kash’ebahl

Alias: Nestor Blacksun

Nickname(s): Laz / Lazzy-boy / Serpent / Inquisitor

Age: Irrelevant and Undetermined (Ask why.)

Birthday: January 11th

Race: Quel’dorei

Gender: Male

Marital Status: Single  [Divorced Once]

Relationship Status: Single

Physical Appearance ––– –

First Appearances:  Lazarius is an out of place being that belongs among the nobility of Quel’thalas or Stormwind, but due to his desire to reach new people and those who are seeking salvation after the world had been completely wrought with War, he sticks out like a sore thumb in Orgrimmar.  The Inquisitor wears the finest of robes, violets and amethysts, ebony and dark onyx.  And adorns his vestments with Saronite armor plates and chains.   

Hair: Long Shoulder Length Chestnut Brown Hair.

Hair in Disguise:  Usually a Light Gold.

Eyes: Pure Black with flecks of sparkling whites and blues.

Eyes in Disguise: Cerulean.

Height: 72 inches.

Build: Slender, Lean, Gaunt, Lithe, yet still Toned.

Scent: He wears a combined scent of Sandalwood and Clove that masks the lingering magical aroma of death and void that seems to connect to him.

Distinguishing Marks: None that are visible without disrobing.  His upper body is wrought with lashings both front and back from his upbringing and training.  He has words in Shath’yar that have been branded with hot iron onto his flesh.  He has runic symbols that have been carved into his skin ritualistically. 

Tattoos: He has used a snake like scaled helix pattern tattoo across his arms and upper body to try and cover most of the damage done to him through his upbringing. 

Piercings:  Three Silver hoops all gauged 8mm in both ears, with a set of sterling Shal’dorei ear sheathes over the tips.

Common Accessories:   His hands and arms are wrapped in a blackish almost ethereal like gauze.  On his right hand index finger you will notice a razor sheath that covers the finger like a gauntlet.  It has a clawed point on its end.     

Personal Information––– –

Alliance Profession:  Owner and Operator of “Curiosities & Collections” which is a front antique and rare goods store in Stormwind.

Horde Profession:  Standing true to the nature of his families heritage and fortune; House Kash’ebahl is one of the most efficient and renowned logistical experts in the procurement and shipping of rare cloth, antiques and spice.

Financial Status:  Vastly Wealthy

Hobbies:  Research  || Experimentation || Reading/Painting || Piano || Observing the Populace

Languages:   Thalassian || Orcish || Dwarvish || Common || Bits and pieces of others due to his Order allowing all races.

Residence: The Bastille - Deep beneath Northrend.

Birthplace: Quel'Thalas

Religion: Cosmic

Vices:  Women / Power / Knowledge

Fears:   Losing his empire and the people who’ve helped him, essentially his family. || Abandonment || Drowning ||

Vulnerabilities: 

Relationships ––– -

Spouse/Significant other(s): Of the none sexual and deeper connections, the main women in his life currently are @whatadarkbitch​ [ Verzatea Duskflame, his oldest and dearest friend, ally and confidant.  Also the mother of his child.] and his Prime @frompage112​ [Raven, who is his student and successor hopefully.  She is normally always with him.]

Children: Brinys Duskflame

Parents:  Varianna Kash’ebahl (Mother - Status - Deceased)  Pytharius Kash’ebahl (Father - Status- Deceased)  

Siblings: Pyravari Kash’ebahl ( Twin Sister - Undead ) , Siida-Ray Kash’ebahl ( Youngest Sister - Alive ) , Kretus Dark ( Half Brother - Alive) , Vallah Kash’ebahl ( Younger Brother - Unknown )

Other Relatives: Raelyndia Duskhollow ( Former Misterest of The Nine, and Keeper,  Presumed Deceased for good)

Friends/Acquaintances: Pyravari Kashebahl @pyravari-kashebahl​, Koltun Ancientveil @thebladeitself​, Verzatea Duskflame @whatadarkbitch​, Siida Kashebahl @siidaraykashebahl​, Raven @frompage112​, Jursol @bloodhuntressjursol​ , Pame MylBrin @miss-irascible​

Pets:

Sex & Romance ––– -

Sexual Orientation: Poly / Pan

Preferred Emotional Role: Dominant

Preferred Sexual Role: Dominant

Libido: Existent?

Turn ons:    Intelligence || Danger || Power Struggle || Confidence

Turn offs: Arrogance || Cowardice || Impolite and Crass || Ignorance || 

Love Language:  Lazarius does not actively hunt for anything in particular.  He often finds himself being drawn to women who display power on their own accord yet enjoy a partner who can sexually take control.  He does prefer women simply because of his conditioning, there is a bit of a complex there.

Relationship Tendencies:  Unlike most who find multiple partners to be strictly a sexual nature; Lazarius finds that having multiple relationships is healthy for a creature of his making.  Some are non-sexual at all.  A strong bond that is romantic yet restricts sexual advance.  Gaining nurturing, love and affection.  While others become increasingly more passionate and lustful, leading to a romance that borders on the physical.  Lazarius is a being that will find and latch onto those he is attracted to and devote himself to that person when they are together.  And that role they fill for one another is specific to them.  He will cherish it.  

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Personality:  He is reserved and often times will sit off to the side watching and observing.  He will hunt out and seek those who are rejecting the normal way of society and attempt to contact them to begin a dialog.  When he is approached or interacted with; Lazarius is dangerously intelligent, well spoken and charming.

Smoking Habit: None

Drugs: None

Alcohol: Not often, getting to know him you will know why he cannot drink.  And if he is, you should also know why.

RP Hooks ––– –

Can be found in:  Orgrimmar, Stormwind, and Quelthalas. 

Seeking Refuge:  Apostates, Rogue Wizards, Those wanted by the Law?  Or simply someone who is no longer allowed to practice a certain type of magic.  Lazarius is seeking those people actively to try and bolster his numbers within his flock once more. 

The Antique Store: If you are Alliance, and on the hunt for something mysterious; perhaps even dangerous, Lazarius may have it.  “Curiosities & Collections” is located somewhere in the Dwarven District and only seems to show its red door with a serpent shaped knocker to those who seek to find the rare, and unusual. 

Dark Magic:  While this is not the best hook for him, Lazarius will sometimes be drawn to or draw in those who are giving off or noticing his dark energies.  This is often times the people who wish to try and assume he is evil, while in retrospect he wants nothing more than to be left in piece.  Having changed his Cultist ways long ago and broke free of their control.

OOC  ––– –  

Lazarius is available for Tumblr and in-game RP.  Just make sure you shoot me a heads up first as I don't actively RP in either much like I used to.  Discord is my most frequent and easy way to contact and respond.  I always have my mobile app on, and I tend to respond much quicker in RP there.

I’m always open to new plots and contacts, whether it’s long-term story arcs or a  simple one-off interaction, so feel free to shoot me a message if you’d  like to set something up!  It should be noted that The Nine and Lazarius have a very lengthy and detailed past expanding all the way back to TBC.  Everything we have written and discuss in our discord channel and Tumblr is all actual events that have happened that carry over for our multiple people and characters.  We would gladly welcome newcomers who wish to RP in a casual long term story arch that branches out and webs all of our characters together.

Tagging: @frompage112​

@bloodhuntressjursol​

@siidaraykashebahl​

@whatadarkbitch​

@pyravari-kashebahl​

@thebladeitself​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #381

“don’t try to be the one person who has stayed just to say they never left me”

Do you feel bored with your life? Always. Do you miss anyone who was mean to you in the past? I sometimes miss Colleen, but I know it's for the better that we no longer associate with each other. What’s the most weight you’ve ever gained from a medication? I don't know, but a fuck of a lot. Thanks, Abilify. Have you ever been suicidal? Yes. Do you pray? If yes, to whom? No. What do you miss about high school? Memories with Jason. What do you miss the most about college? Socializing. What was the best date you’ve ever been on? A triple date to an arcade w/ Jason and friends. What’s the last great song you discovered? The most recent one? I don't know, really. Do you feel free to post how you feel on Facebook? Yeah. Don't like what I post, delete me. Have you ever done cocaine? Yikes, no thanks. Do you think you’ll ever get married? Do you want to? I sometimes wonder if I ever will. I'm scared of just continuing to be an unemployed leech that is doing nothing significant with her life, in which case it's like, why even be with me romantically. I feel like such a dead end street. I want to get married someday. Who do you care about the most? When it comes down to it, probably my mom. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yeah. Would you ever get gauged ears? I want small gauges, actually. When it comes to clothing, are you the conservative type? Yes, because I hate my body and don't want others to see it. Do you enjoy eating? I wish I didn't. Have you ever ridden in a race car? No. Do you go out of your way to impress the opposite gender? No. Do you enjoy history? Not really, no. It bores me. Are you a pajama person or do you stay dressed all day? I'm just about always in my pjs. Do you value looks or personality more? Personality is way more important. Have you ever changed religions? Yeah. Born Roman Catholic, converted to Christianity when I further understood the differences, then I went to how I am now: I believe in something(s), but I don't quite know what. I wouldn't call myself a Neo-Pagan, but it's what I relate most to. Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? I would for like, my wedding. Foo fighters vs. Red Hot Chili Peppers: I'm actually not a big fan of either. Are you a fan of the SAW movies? I don't really watch them. Do you ever forget how old your siblings are? My two immediate sisters, I'm sometimes a year off. All my others, yes. :x Mountain Dew or Sprite? Mountain Dew, of course. I really don't like Sprite now, which is ironic because as a kid, it was my favorite soda. Could you ever give yourself a shot? Yeah. Have you ever worked as a cashier? That was one of my duties when I worked at a dollar store. If you are on birth control that allows you take pills and skip your period, how often do you opt to skip it? How come? My birth control doesn't allow me to skip, but rather, it regulates it. Is there a book series where you loved the first book, but for some reason the other books in the series just didn’t measure up? I can't say that, no, as most series I just kinda fell out of, like The Hunger Games. LOVED the first book, started the second, and even though I was enjoying it, I just stopped for some reason? Are there any stores/restaurants that you would like to shop/eat at, but there aren’t any located near enough to you? Haha yeah, like lots of west coast fast food places like Jack n' the Box or however it's formatted. If you were told by a professional that you were unable to become pregnant, how would that affect you? Is there something important to you about conceiving a biological child rather than adoption? And finally, if you even want to have children, would you choose adoption or surrogacy or would you go on childless? I don't even want kids, so honestly, I'd be stoked if I learned I was infertile. Wouldn't need to worry about the chance of getting pregnant and facing an abortion dilemma. Is there something that you did not used to take seriously, that you either now take seriously or wish that you had in the past (e.g., a relationship that you miss, your education, etc.)? Hm. I don't know. Are there any subjects that you are interested in so much that you would read whole books or academic journals about them? Meerkats, especially. I will read EVERY scientific article about them I find. Are you physically affectionate with your friends? I'm a hugger. When you were in middle school and high school, did you witness a lot of bullying? How did the teachers react to name-calling or violence? Not really, thankfully. Are any of your friends/relatives actually impressive artists or writers? Are you willing to share an example of their work? Yeah. I have a cousin who's really good at drawing, and my sister is a wonderful cake decorator. Do you drink more apple or orange juice? Orange. Could you forgive your best friend for sleeping with your gf/bf? My hypothetical bf/gf, no. Would you ever donate blood? I have before, and I would again if I knew I was hydrated enough and the opportunity was right there. Would you rather drink coffee or tea? Ugh, neither. Do you get easily embarrassed? YES. How long was your longest make out? TMI alert, like all night. If the person who hurt you most said they’re sorry would you believe them? I honestly don't know. Do you have sensitive skin? Very. What color is your mum's car? White. Do you live in an apartment? No. Do you have a pet fish? Nope. Are you happy with your eye color? I wish they were a more sapphire blue. Solid soap bar or liquid body wash? Absolutely liquid body wash. What color do you want your dream car to be? Baby pink. *-* Do you have more then one favorite band? I say I do, but at the same time I know Ozzy Osbourne will ALWAYS be #1. Do you prefer being single or in a relationship? In a relationship. But it's absolutely not something I'm about to force just for the sake of being in one. Would you be really upset if Facebook ceased to exist tomorrow? Nah. Have you or would you try shark meat? No to both. Do you know anyone that's pescatarian? No. Someone I watch on YouTube is, though. Are you shy or over confident around your crushes? Super shy. Do you think the govt. has a cure for cancer, but is hiding it from public? Hell, I think it's very well possible, but I lean more towards for financial hoarding, they simply don't further pursue potential cures that are discovered. I mean, just THINK about all the "future cures" you've read or heard about. It's fucking outrageous. It's all to fuel the medical industry. Okay, tin hat coming off. Last time you drank a diet soda? A very long time ago, because diet soda gives me a massive headache. Was your ex born in America? Only one wasn't. Name your favorite type of music and why. Metal. I for one just like the sound, and I find it very therapeutic when I'm especially mad or sad. Even when I'm in a good mood, I just enjoy it. I also feel that a lot of metal songs tell interesting stories and/or have very poetic lyrics. Do you own or have you read, or thought of reading any self-help books? I haven't, but I've considered it. Can you breakdance? Definitely not. Have you ever read a book and not understood it? If so which one? Yes. We were assigned this one war novel in middle school that was FUCKING AWFUL, like I was checked out the whole time. I don't remember its name or anything. Have you ever watched a movie and not understood it? If so which one? Yes; the Warcraft movie I mentioned in a recent survey. Orcs and their fucking deep-ass voice that I couldn't understand. Do you blowdry your hair? No. Tell me about your dream last night. Omfgggggg y'all. So, there's one invert pet that I've never understood the keeping appeal of, and that's giant centipedes. Their bites are notoriously excruciating, and they are just SO goddamn fast. Well, for some godforsaken reason, I wanted one as a pet. Got one, and it immediately got loose. Guess who wanted to shit herself lmao. Centipedes are very cool, but only from a distance, ya feel? Have you ever stayed in a fancy high-class rich hotel? No. Have you ever stayed in a rent-by-the-hour motel? I don't think so. Describe the worst fight you’ve ever been in whether physical or verbal. I'm not entirely sure about my *worst*, but I know it was with Mom. We've had a few. Have you heated any food in your microwave today? Yeah, a shrimp alfredo Lean Cuisine bowl. Do you own any items of clothing with cartoon characters on them? Yes. Have you ever played Animal Crossing? No, it doesn't seem like my kinda game. Do you own anything (e.g jewelry, accessories) with your initial on it? Yes, but none of which I personally bought because I don't really like them. Do you own any cats or dogs? What are their names? I have a cat named Roman. <3 Have you added any books to your shelves lately? Which? No. Have you bought any new cosmetics or toiletries lately? Which? No. Do your pets have a specific type of food that they prefer? Roman will eat whatever cat food he's given, while Venus, like your average ball python, is a picky eater. Like when I first got her, she wouldn't eat for almost a year because I just couldn't find a method through which she'd accept food. Now she consistently takes frozen/thawed small rats that have actually sat in warm water (versus doing it by hand under running water), and she generally won't strike it unless it's offered to her by tongs, but not dangling by the tail. Picky, picky miss thang. What's your favourite variety of apple? I'm not very particular about flavor so long as the apple is crisp. I canNOT do soft apples. Which of your physical features do you receive the most compliments about? My hair.

[thebluenebula]

First Xmas Gala

Ashleigh Wayne Au Fic Masterlist

The day of the Gala has come, and Ash couldn't be more nervous, but with her family by her side everything will be fine, right?

Preparing for the Gala

. . . . .

I didn't sleep that night. I got up at five, shower, shaved, and cleaned myself up. I tried to do something with my hair, but there wasn't much I could do, so I ended up leaving it as it was.

As I headed back to my room, I spotted the boys in Dick's room, getting ready. The five of them were wearing similar black suits, each had unique accessory matching the Wayne wearing it. Dick, Duke, and Damien all had ties, blue, yellow, and green respectively, Tim a red bowtie, and Jay a loose floor length skirt.

I stared in aww at my brothers. "You guys look stunning."

Dick looked up at me curiously. "Thank you. Are you wearing that?"

I was still in the clothes I'd worn the day before. "First off, I already look better then you."

Jay snickered. "That's not hard."

"Secondly, no. I'm going to get changed now."

Duke adjusted his tie. "Well hurry."

I headed to my room, stripped and looked into wardrobe. The suit, or the dress? The suit was nice, and I knew I'd be comfortable, I wouldn't stand out, but I had to wear the dress. I wanted to wear the dress.

I examined myself in the mirror. The blue dress hugged my body, not too tightly, but enough. The long skirt hid the sneakers, and tracksuit bottoms I was wearing underneath. I rubbed my bare arm. It felt right, but could I really wear it in front of all those people? In front of Cassie?

Someone knocked on the door. I recognised Harper's knock. "You decent, Ash?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Mind if we come in?"

I unlocked the door for them. Carrie, and Harper walked in. I looked at the girls. Harper was wearing a black suit, with a blue undershirt, while Carrie was wearing her green sun dress

"You look amazing." We all said in unison. It was followed by a burst of giggles.

Carrie leaned against my dresser. "So, are you ready for your first Gala?"

"I guess so."

"You look worried."

"All things considered, the Galas the least of my worries."

"Cassie?"

I turned back to the mirror. "Yes. Do you think she'll like this dress, or should I wear a suit?"

Harper came up behind me, and wrapped her arms around me. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts. You like it, so nothing else matters, plus I know Cassie will love it. You want to know how I know?"

"How?"

"Cause you're in it."

I leaned my head back into her. "Thank you, Harper."

In the mirror, I watched as Carrie pick up my pair of fishnet gloves. "You've been taking fashion tips from Dinah I see."

I took them from her, and pulled them on. "Zee, actually. She's got great style. Would one of you mind taking a picture of me?"

Carrie grabbed my phone. "Not at all. Strike a pose."

I smiled as she took a step back to get a proper shot. As the camera flashed, I felt a sudden weight on my back.

I tried to steady myself as Harper clung to my back. "Photobomb!"

I giggled as we fell onto the bed, knocking her off of me. "Photohog more like it."

When we were done laughing, Carrie took a proper photo, then one of the three of us together. I sent them to Siobhan, then the three of us headed downstairs.

Everyone was gathered in the living room. Bruce was the first to spot us. "Ashleigh, you look stunning."

Kate appeared behind him. "Understatement of the century."

I could feel my face reddening. "Thank you."

The same could be said for them. Bruce was wearing a pitch black suit. In a dim light room, he'd be hard to spot. Maybe that was the point. Kate's outfit was at least bit more colorful. Her black dress had intricate red lines swirling through it.

Carrie coughed, drawing our attention to her, and Harper. "There are other children in the room looking for positive verbal reassurement."

Bruce russeled their hair. "You two are just as stunning as ever."

Carrie fixed her hair in one motion. "Good. Thank you."

Harper was not so lucky. She gave Bruce a sour look as she pushed the loose hair from her face. "Yeah, thanks."

I looked around the room, admiring everyones outfits. I'd seen Bab's dress the day she got it, but it looked even better on her. The green empire dress worked so well for her. As for Steph, and Cass they both wore matching sun dresses. The only difference being the colours, purple, and black respectively, both with splashes of yellow.

We took the obligitory family photos. First, all of us together. Then the adults. Then the kids. Then a couple more in our own little groups.

Steph had taken on the role of 'parent who wants way too many pictures'. She insisted on getting dozens of pictures of everyone. After what felt like a hundred pictures, Steph left me alone, and went to get pictures of Bruce.

Kate took my hand in hers. "You nervous?"

"More then I've ever been."

She gave it a gentle squeeze. "You'll be fine."

"What if I fuck it up?"

"You won't."

"I'm going to do something wrong or forget something- The flowers! What did I do with the flowers?"

"Calm down."

I thought for a minute as to where I left them. "They were in my room. I'll go get them."

I turned to go get them, but Kate grabbed my shoulder. "You stay here, I'll get them."

Kate left, and returned a few minutes later with my flowers. She set them down nearby, and we chatted as we waited.

Since the Supers and the Wonders were also going to the Gala, Bruce had suggested they all carpool with us. It wasn't long before the Supers arrived, much to Tim, and Damien's delight.

Clark wore a lovely tan suit, Lois a very professional looking black suit, she was still very much in reporter mode. Conner, and Jon wore near identical Superman-esc suits. They we're adorable, and clearly Tim agreed, considering how quickly he jumped into Conner's arms. Kara had a lovely yellow bouffant dress, and Karen a green sheath dress. It made her look like a news anchor. Of course a news anchor wouldn't wear a green dress.

Artemis arrived soon after to pick up Jay. She had a beautiful red dress on, that ended just past her knees. I was kind of expecting her show up with the other Wonders. She assured us that the others had just run into some delays and would be here soon.

As the two went to leave, Jay stopped, and turned to me. "Piece of advice, make sure to use pro- oww!"

Artemis smacked the back of his head. "Don't you dare finish that."

"I was joking."

For just a moment I was worried that if I messed this up Artemis would break my arm, then I realized how ridiculous that was. Cassie was more then capable of doing that herself.

The two left on Artemis's motorbike, because leaving in a car or limo would have been far too boring for them.

Bruce leaned into me, and whispered. "You did have 'the talk', right?"

"Yes! What do you people think is going to happen tonight?"

Kate flashed a cheeky smile. "All cards are on the table."

I was spared delving any further into that conversation by the doorbell. Alfred left the room to answer it. It had to be the Wonders. Too late for me to back out now.

Alfred with Diana, Donna, and Cassie. I felt my heart beat faster as I saw them. Diana was wearing a blue bodice gown, Donna a sleevless black sheath dress with stars down both sides, and Cassie was wearing a red spaghetti top, and a blue skirt with stars, it looked like the one from Wonders Woman's old costume.

"Sorry for the delay." Diana apologised. "Someone forgot to check the tank before we left."

Donna sighed. "I said I was sorry."

Cassie hit them. "You two, stop fighting."

Once Cassie managed to stop the two bickering, they split off to socialise. Diana went to Bruce, and Clark, Donna to Dick, and Babs, and Cassie found her way to me.

She had a beaming smile on her face. "You look amazing."

"Thank you. You look beautiful."

She gestured to my gloves. "Got them from Zee?"

"She recommended a store."

I gestured to her skirt. "Diana's?"

"Bingo."

The two of us began chatting. Tim, Cass, and Steph joined us. We giggled amongst ourselves until the time came for us to leave.

Alfred walked over to us. "Miss Ashleigh, Miss Sandsmark, I believe it is time we leave."

Alfred, and Cassie began walking off. I went to follow them, but Steph grabbed my arm, and gestured to the flowers. "Forgetting something."

"Oh yeah." I quickly grabbed them. "Thanks."

Cass kissed my cheek. "Head up, be proud." 

"Thanks."

I caught up with the two. Cassie looked at me. "What held you up?"

"I forgot something." I presented the flowers to her.

She examined them. "They're beautiful. What are they?"

"Flowers."

She punched my arm. "I know that. What kind?"

"Oh. The red ones are amaryllis, the yellow are orchids, and the blue ones are larkspur."

"I've never heard of that last one."

"Neither have I."

"Did you just choose these because of my costume?"

"For the most part."

"Dork. I love them."

We wandered out to the car that Alfred had for us. We sat into the back.

"Flowers, and our own car, not a bad start to a date."

"The seperate car was Dick's idea." I admitted.

"In that case I'm surprised it's not filled with rose petals and candles."

"Oh don't worry, he wanted to."

"He's like a cliche romance novel, in the best ways. What stopped him?"

"Babs had him a short leash. He wanted to arrange a romantic candle lit dinner in the fanciest restraunt in Gotham. I figured that might be too much."

"That's ridiculous but sweet. Someone going to be lucky to have him one day."

"Yeah, they are. Would you have liked that?"

"I'll love whatever we do, as long as we do it together."

"I'll remember that for next time."

She smiled "Already thinking about a next time?"

"No. I mean yeah, but- sorry."

"It's alright, Ash. You don't have to be nervous."

"Says you. I don't think I've ever seen you nervous."

"I'm nervous right now."

"About the date?"

"Yeah."

"You have nothing to worry about, this is going to be the best date I've ever been on."

"How are you so sure?"

"I've never been on a date before."

Cassie laughed. "Doesn't that mean it will also be the worst date you've ever been on?"

"Shush."

The rest of the ride was filled with our typical banter. It felt so natural that I forgot it was a date. I only remembered as we pulled up to the Gala. I stepped out of the car, turned, and offered Cassie a hand out. "M'lady."

She took my hand, and giggled. "You're such an idiot."

We headed into the building. As we walked in, hand in hand, I realized something. I was so worried about the date portion, I forgot to ask what you actually did at a Gala other then dance.

I guess I have to do as I usually do, figure it out along the way, and pretend I knew all along.

The first thing I spotted once we were inside was the huge Christmas tree. It was bigger then any I'd ever seen, and beautifully decorated.

I was quickly whisked away as Cassie pulled me along behind her. Hours passed as we chatted, and joked. It really didn't feel much different then when we normally hung out.

We talked to people, the Bats, the Wonders, others who I'd never met before. When it came to that, it was more Cassie talking, and me hiding behind her. I did notice that Artemis, and Jay were no where to be seen however.

Eventually, we spotted them standing by the food table. Cassie gently dragged me along behind her as we headed over to them.

Closer now I noticed that Artemis had her hand up Jay's skirt. The two were so busy with whatever they we're doing, they didn't hear us approach.

Cassie coughed. Artemis quickly straightened up, her hand accidently pulling Jay's skirt up. He quickly pushed it down. "Hey!"

"Don't blame me. You should have worn trousers under it."

"I like the breeze."

Cassie, and I giggled at the two. "Should we even ask?"

Jay reached into his skirt, and pulled out a resealable bag full of treats. "Stealing."

I looked at him curiously. "Where were you keeping that?"

"I have the inside lined with pockets."

Cassie shook her head while chuckling. "Why are you even stealing that food, it's free?"

Artemis shrugged. "It's more fun."

I nudged Jay. "You can't go one night without some kind of mischief can you?"

"God, no."

Artemis began whispering to Cassie. Jay, and I watched them curiously. The two girls looked to us. "One moment."

They walked away, still whispering. I turned to Jay. "What's going on?"

"I have no idea." He turned back to me. "Anyway, how's the date been?"

"Great."

"And the ride here?"

"It was good, yeah. We chatted."

Jay smirked. "Is that all you did?"

"I'm going to hit you, really fucking hard."

"So is that a yes?"

"This close, Jay."

"You wouldn't hit me."

"Keep pushing, and you'll find out."

Jay was about to respond when music suddenly came on. I watched as people gathered into the center of the room.

He nudged me. "You should go dance with her."

"I might mess up. The last thing I want is to fall over her, or the other way around."

"You've been practicing all week for this. You never once knocked Cass."

"That's Cass."

"Good point."

"If she doesn't bring it up, I think I'll just avoid it."

"Too bad." He grabbed the scruff of my dress, and dragged me towards Cassie.

I tried to pry his hands from my dress. "Jay, I swear to god."

"You are going to dance. Babs, and Cass spent all week teaching you."

"Fine."

We got to Cassie, and Artemis. They looked over at us. Jay kept a hold of the neck of my dress. "Ask."

I turned to Cassie. "Would you like to dance?"

Cassie smirked. "Depends, is Jay going to dance with us."

I elbowed his stomach. He recoiled, and let go of me. "No. He won't."

Artemis laughed as he grabbed her arm to stabilise himself. Cassie, and I headed out to the dance floor. She took my hand. "You know how to slow dance?"

I placed my free hand on her shoulder. "Yeah."

She placed her other hand on my side. "Guess I'm leading."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I can lead if you'd prefer."

"It's alright, Ash."

We moved around the ballroom elegantly to the song. Eventually Cassie closed the gap between us. "You know, Ash. For a someone who seemed like they really didn't want to dance, you're quite good at it."

"I've been practicing."

"With Dick?"

"No. He wanted to show me, but Babs wouldn't let him. She, and Cass showed me."

"That explains it."

The song stopped, and we stepped apart. "What now?"

"Wanna take a walk?"

"Sure."

We soon found ourselves out to the balcony. It was empty. The silence was nice, as was the cool winter breeze. "Tonights been nice, Cassie. Thank you."

She leaned her head onto my shoulder. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"I'm sorry if it wasn't what you wanted."

"I wanted a date with you, Ash. The Gala was just a great excuse for it. Tonight's been everything I wanted."

"Tonight's been a night of firsts for me."

"Oh, yeah?"

"First Gala, first date, first slow dance, even my first time wearing a dress out. It's been an amazing night, Cassie, and I have you to thank for all of it."

"This nights not over yet, Ash."

"Something you had in mind?"

"I was thinking we spend more time out here."

"That'd be nice. Maybe we can do this again. The whole date thing."

"I'd love to. Any suggestions?"

"How about the restaurant Dick was on about?"

"Sounds like a nice place."

"It would be with you there."

Cassie looked at me. "Did you just attempt to flirt?"

"Depends, was it any good?"

She kissed my cheek. "Awful, but you tried."

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. I stared out into the darkness. It got dark so quickly during the winter. The Bats, usually, would be out on patrol by now, and I would be home worried sick, but not tonight. Tonight, I knew they were inside, enjoying themselves, safe, and that made me happy. As did Cassie's hand in mine.

Today was a good day.

. . . . .

Writing this fic was so hard for so many reasons. The primary one was just to find the motivation to finish it. I set a deadline for myself of the 10th. It is not but the 10th but close enough. I think this turned out great, hope you enjoy. I also intend to post a Xmas fic soon aswell, so look out for that if you're interested. Though it might not be out by Xmas if I'm not feeling like it.

[sorneth]

LFRP! Sorneth Caduceus

Art by @elizastarkart​​ , Paid Commission

Sorneth Caduceus

“Given my relatively small social circle, I’m seeking to meet some new faces and perhaps find some new adventures and stories to tell in the process. Perhaps you would be someone interested? Perhaps a bard like myself catches your eye, sparks your curiosity?”

The Basics ––– –

Age: 35

Birthday: December 21st

Race: Duskwight Elezen

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bi-sexual

Marital Status: Happily married, closed relationship.

Server: Balmung, Crystal Datacenter

Physical Appearance ––– –

Hair: Natural silver in hue and dusted with white highlights, it falls to mid neck in the front, and his shoulder blades in the back.

Eyes: A dark grey ‘white’ of his eye makes the moon white hues of each iris all the more vibrant. Strangely, they seem almost wolf-like in nature, though that could just be coincidence.

Height:  6'10 (208.28 cm)

Build: A militant style background, and strict upkeep have resulted in the sculpted muscle that makes up most of the Bowman's frame. Resulting in a tone that is well suited for agility, speed, and endurance.

Distinguishing Marks: 

Facial scar; Only about a year old, this wound was obviously left by a sword given it’s depth and path. It cuts down from his right brow, over the bridge of his nose, and down his left cheek almost to the jawline. 

Facial ink; intricate filigree like vines in dark grey ink adorn the right side of his face both above and below his right eye. 

Crest of the Wolf; Above his heart rests the bust of a wolf in black ink.

Common Accessories: 

Feather adorned hat; Rarely if ever seen without it, one might wonder if it’s removal or destruction would bring about the end of him with how attached he is to it. Weathered, but well cared for, it’s obvious that it’s been on every adventure the bard has had over the years.

Well made dragon scale collar; Stamped with a wolf’s head with an arrow in it’s jaws, the artisan made collar is of the bard’s own creation. An inch and a half wide black leather band circles his neck, with the outer surface wreathed in lavender hued scales from a dragoon’s signature armor. With a locking dog collar buckle at the back of the neck, and the crest of a dragon wrapped around an orchid at it’s front. The piece is both practical, and artistic in it’s design. The ‘d’ ring at it’s front also sports worry stone like pendant of a dark, night sky blue hue.

Silver orchid pendant; Strung from a sturdy chain and hangs low enough to kiss his collarbones, the pendant is as well worn as the holy symbol of a priest or paladin. 

Personal ––– –

Profession: Bard & Storyteller first and foremost.

Hobbies: Carpentry, Leatherwork, Hunting, writing

Languages: Eorzean Common, Thavnarian, Hingan, Doman, Garlean, The old tongue (amarotine/pre-sundering), Gelmorian, traditional Ishgardian, steppe-tongue, shroud-speak.

Residence: Forest cottage deep in the Dravanian Wilds

Birthplace: Whenever asked, the bard simply says ‘The Shroud’

Religion: Similar to the Nights Blessed of the First, he worships and reveres the Sunless sea, and it’s celestial keepers. The Guardian of time, the weaver of fate, and the twelve zodiacs.

Patron Deity: He holds a special fondness for the fateweaver 

Fears: The rage of Dragoons, the loss of his senses, being forgotten/erased by time.

Relationships ––– -

Spouse: Maxia Caduceus, Husband.

Children: None

Parents: Though they are alive, he’s never known them, nor has any memory of them.

Siblings: None that he’s aware of

Other Relatives: He may, he may not, he simply doesn’t know

Pets: A celestial wolf, not unlike a carbuncle, named Fenrir

Traits ––– -

* Bold your character’s answer.

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between /  Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information ––– –

Smoking Habit: Frequent, usually an herbal mixture of medications and male birth control - though he will on occasion dip into fogweed to quell his nightmares and dull the pain of flashbacks/painful memories. Drugs: Aside from what he smokes, he usually avoids such substances unless properly prescribed to him by a medical professional. Alcohol: On occasion. He drinks to taste, and no longer indulges in wine as much as he used to - on account that it makes him into one -very- flirtatious and amorous drunk. Though he has been known to enjoy absinthe with select company.

RP Hooks ––– –

The Wandering Bard; The man is not hard to find, and even harder to miss. From the music flowing from his harp within the taverns of Eorzea, to his enthralling stories told in the streets to groups of interested people or curious individuals. From the smallest settlements, to the big cities, his name his known as is his talent. All one needs is a genuine interest, and the bard is ever humbly at your service.

The Night Hunter; Only in circles of voidsent hunters, is his skills as a professional seasoned hunter known to his peers. With a reputation for clearing up to A-rank marks solo, he has never over his career failed a contract. For the right price, his bow is yours should you wish to hire him. Should you be tainted, marked, or a creature of the void or light yourself however? Be weary, for the wolf is always watching, and eager for a hunt.

Bad Dravanian Artisan; A bit of a guilty pleasure for the bard, his skills in leatherwork has been turned from a hobby into a marketed craft to the public. From collars, to leashes, floggers, whips, crops, bindings, and harnesses, he produces quality lifestyle and kink gear to interested customers. Custom works are also available to order, and the man takes pride in his every creation - even wearing and putting his own work to use himself. Stamped with his signature of a wolf’s head with an arrow in it’s jaws - it’s easy to trace his creations back to him.

The Secret Author; Under the pen name ‘Heliake Norrst’ the bard has written and produced a great number of books available in most book stores across the world, and in multiple languages for his international fan base. While his work varies in genre from adventure, to horror, mystery, and tragedy. It’s his Romance novels and Steamy erotica that’s made him world famous. Perhaps your character is a fan? Perhaps your character has been on a mission to find out who this mysterious and enigmatic author really is?

Lost in the woods; As one who hunts for his own food, leathers, pelts, and other materials for his craft. The bard is as much at home within the forests of the Shroud and the Coerthean wilds as he is within his cabin. It would not be far-fetched for him to cross someone lost, or having fallen victim to the erratic weather patterns or wildlife within those regions. Be it him happening upon someone while on a hunt, or having someone banging on his cottage door in want for help or shelter. Both are equally possible.

The Kind Traveler; The bard is not one to leave another at the mercy of fate, and even in his more ‘off the beaten path’ traveling it’s not an uncommon occurrence to come across another in need of aid. Nor is he hesitant to offer it. 

Contact Information  ––– –

Discord: Sorneth#6998 (Your free to add me if your interested in RP! I -do- do discord RP, but I’m not the best at it in terms of keeping up.) Tumblr: Your looking at it! (Completely IC blog, unless it’s a direct message. You will get IC responses) In game: Sorneth Caduceus (I’m -very- whisper friendly! So poke me anytime!) Carrd: Here

Seeking: Connections, RP Opportunities, New RP partners to write with in addition to the two lovely people who I RP with already.

Additional Questions? Please feel free to contact me to your hearts content, I’m about as threatening as a newborn kitten and I promise I’m likely way more anxious and afraid of you, then you are of me. <3 So pour upon me questions, concerns, or plot ideas!

@mooglemeet​

[killervibe]

Hate to See Your Heart Break

Summary: Barry notices Caitlin's quiet suffering. He's been there before.

Note: The title and lyrics come from this song !! Strongly suggest taking a listen! Also, minor spoiler for Love Is Blind. 

For: @manjehaal

Tag: @staroflightning

~.~ 

Love, happens all the time,

to people who aren't kind

And heroes who are blind

~.~

“Hey Caitlin.” Barry sped into the Med Bay with the evidence he snatched from CCPD not even six seconds ago. “I need you to run tests on these before officer Voogavitch notices I stole them off his desk.” He slapped the hat left from the crime scene in the plastic bag on her table and frowned at her hiss.

Caitlin’s chair swivelled so slowly, Barry had to double check he wasn’t in flash time. “Uh,” he said when he got a proper look at her face. “You’re wearing your hungover sunglasses.”

“I don’t have...hungover sunglasses.”

Barry stared at her. The acetaminophen tablet bottle was right next to her elbow.

“Fine,” she grumbled. Barry backtracked to the light switches and turned them all off. Caitlin let out a little sigh of relief and removed the accessory. “I’m a little...hungover.”

Barry grabbed one of her stools to sit. “Why?”

Caitlin shrugged as she took the forensic sample he had left her and slowly put on her gloves to start the analysis in the dark. “I guess I was a little too indulgent at my pity party.”

“Pity party?” He frowned as he watched her boot up one of her machines. “Why would…” He trailed off at her glare. It wasn’t that it was cold but...weary. He remembered that look. He’d worn it often and would notice as he passed by the mirror at the precinct back when Iris was dating Eddie.

...Oh.

“Caitlin,” he said empathetically. “They broke up.”

“I know,” she snapped. Caitlin folded her arms as she sniffed back her tears. “I know they broke up. I knew they weren’t working. I knew he kept coming to me to talk. And I let him.” Her processor pinged. Caitlin took it out and walked over to her monitor to read the results. “We talked so much. All night, sometimes. Just me and him over the phone. When he was away—After he came back. I just stupidly let myself think that…”

“He’d come back to you,” Barry filled in when she went silent again. “You thought he loved you, didn’t you?”

Caitlin bristled. “Well he doesn’t. Your meta has abnormalities that suggest a similar polymer composition to Ralph’s.”

She turned curtly and returned the evidence. “You need to bring this back before officer Voogavitch notices.”

“Caitlin.”

“Voogavitch. He’s old and grumpy and already hates you.”

“Caitlin.”

“I’ll be fine.”

And Caitlin never says she’ll be fine. Usually she won’t say anything at all. Usually Barry would get the cliff notes version from Cisco when she was finally ready to open up about what was bothering her because as close Barry and Caitlin were, they could never in a million years resemble the delicate intimacy that rested in the quiet conversations those two could have with their eyes. “Caitlin,” Barry said again, touching her arm. “He does. He does love you.”

“Yeah,” she responded faintly, sliding the sunglasses back on over her eyes. “And so do you, right?” She collected her purse and wobbled a bit in her heels. “If he asks, I went to visit my mother. He knows not to bother me for a full day then.”

“What are you going to do?”

Caitlin pushed past him lightly. “ What I was doing before you interrupted me. Sleep.”

~.~

Barry’s conversation with Caitlin left him rattled for the rest of the day. At dinner, he picked at his third plate, which made Iris raise an eyebrow.

“Did you eat those calorie granola bars Cisco made for you after work? You’ve hardly touched your food.” She sipped her drink. “I didn’t make it you know,” she teased.

Barry let his fork scrape against the rice and peas listlessly. “I know you told me not to stick my nose in others relationships again—” “Uh oh—”

“—But don’t you think we should try to fix the rift between Cisco and Caitlin?” “What rift?” Iris picked up her plate to put in their dishwasher, kissing his cheek as she passed him by. “They’re the same as always.”

“I know!” he complained. “That’s what’s so weird!”

“You’ve lost me, Barry.”

He sighed and picked up his own plate, wrapping it in a container to store in their fridge. “Caitlin is in love with Cisco, she has been since like, I don’t know, Iris...Since before we were engaged.”

“Wasn’t she with Julian then?” Barry rolled his eyes. “Oh come on. Julian was her distraction from Killer Frost and Cisco.”

Iris put a hand on her hip. “Barry. Are you sure this is all factual or just how you’ve been seeing it the last couple of years?”

He scoffed as he closed the fridge door, leaning against the tacked up drawings Jenna had made for them that they had put up with magnets. “Caitlin is in love with Cisco. Cisco has been half in love with Caitlin since day one, too. They just sucked at timing and now that Kamilla is no longer around...I think they just need a push.” “We don’t push our best friends into romances they don’t want, Barry!”

“Oh my god, but they do want it, though!” He ran his hand through his hair with a stressed out laugh. “Both of them!”  

Iris took his hands in hers, dragging him to their couch. She folded herself against the cushions, rubbing her thumb against his knuckles. “I get that these are your two best friends and you really want to see them be happy, but Barry—for the love of god. Let them work it out on their own. Please.”

He pouted a little, falling backwards onto the sofa and covered his eyes with a groan. Iris laughed.

“What am I supposed to do?” he whined through the muffling of his sleeve. She snuggled up against him until Barry couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her waist. She queued up Netflix. “How about getting you hooked onto the latest season of Love Is Blind?”  

Barry perked up immediately. “Do you think there’ll be another Messica?”

“There’s always another Messica.”

~.~

Barry watched Cisco and Caitlin be themselves for a whole other week with little to no development. He still stole her fries when she wasn’t looking and she nagged at him when he’d do something stupid only to get a fond eye roll and an arm slung over her shoulder. She’d tease his meta name of the week and for that, would earn a new nickname rolling off his tongue of her own. She’d let him hug her and she wouldn’t say anything different. And if her eyes darted over to Barry every once in a while after he’d be obliviously, painfully affectionate, well Barry seemed the only one to notice.

My friend, Cisco would always say when talking about her. My friend. My friend.

It made Barry cringe.

Another week turned into a month and then it was Spring. Iris began inviting Caitlin over to go shopping as a distraction. Cisco would turn down Ralph’s offers to hit the town.

Halfway into April, Barry got too distracted to keep score of Cisco and Caitlin’s stalling by a new crop of moderately dangerous alien attacks targeted around Central City. After a call and elaborate takedown with the help of Superman, they managed to put an end to it, content to send some alien children back to their homes.

Team Flash watched the news segment that relayed on Central City News Network in the Cortex as they fixed up the last of the technical difficulties in corresponding with the DEO to send the last aircrafts out to the alien planets, all wiped out and exhausted.

The news reel caught a quiet moment between Clark and Lois in the aftermath, Superman nowhere near in sight. The news headline captioned the footage of them grabbing onto each other in relief as 

“Couple Reunited After Alien Scare—Saved by Superman & Team Flash!”  

“Damn,” said Cisco around a Twizzler. “I want something like that.”

Caitlin clenched her clipboard tighter and forced a smile. “That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Duuuude!” blurted out Barry, slapping his hand against the whiteboard he’d been cleaning off from their language decodes and translations. Cisco might as well have been the one from another planet.  “Dude! Come on!”

Cisco startled in his seat at Barry’s volume. “What?”

“Stop it with the utter bullshit! You do have that! You’ve always had that!” He gestured wildly at their best friend. “Hello!?”

“Barry,” Caitlin warned.

Maybe it wasn’t his place. Iris had told Barry not to pry, but this was pushing all of them too far. He couldn’t stand to see the look on Caitlin’s face. It’s been weeks. Hell, it’s been months. This had to end.

It was too late to salvage what he’d done, anyway. Cisco turned to look at her. “What is he talking about?”

Caitlin’s cheeks flared up as she muttered something incomprehensible, setting the clipboard down.

Ralph took a long sip of coffee, watching the scene above the rim of his mug.

“It’s just a crush,” she said at last, as if she were commenting on the weather. “A silly little crush, Cisco. It’ll pass.” She ignored Barry as she briskly walked across the room, her eyes flickering for a moment as her hands shook.

“Stop,” she said to nobody in the room, in a hushed, direct tone. It must’ve been for Frost. “Stop it. I’m fine on my own.”

They all watched as she left.

“Okaaaay,” said Cisco. “I’m very confused. What the hell just happened?”

Barry kept his mouth shut already knowing Iris would kill him.

Cisco sat up on the monitor desk and dropped his candy. “Barry, I mean no offence, but how is it that—again, no offence—”

“—Little taken.”

“ How the hell does Caitlin have feelings for someone suddenly and she decided that you’re the first to know?”

“Does that bother you?” Barry countered.

“That she told you first!? I just said that!”

“No, it bothers you that she likes someone.”

That took Cisco by surprise. “What—No?”

“You hesitated.”

“No.”

Barry shared a glance with Ralph, who merely rolled his eyes. “Yes, you did.”

“So what does it bother me?” he lamented. “Why wouldn’t it? I don’t even know who this person is!?” Cisco frowned deeply, brushing a hand over his hair. “Do we know him? When did this happen?”

“Buddy,” said Ralph with feeling as he stretched his limbs, deciding to follow Caitlin in case Frost turned up after all. “Listen to yourself.”  

“I’m listening to myself just fine!”

“Uh.” Barry squinted at him. “Are you, really?”

Fine!” Cisco yelled, jumping down. Barry blinked. That was easy. “Maybe I’m concerned that Caitlin is falling in love again!”

“Why would that be a problem? You love Caitlin and want her to be happy.”

“I know!” Cisco shouted. “I love her and I want her to be happy but god for once, why can’t she just be happy with me?”

His words roared in Barry’s ears. Cisco himself blinked at his own outburst, shocked.

Finally. Finally!!!!!!

A ridiculous grin threatened to split Barry’s face, tremendously relieved that he didn’t have to suffer through this anymore. He reached for his pocket to text Iris about this new development with about a thousand exclamation points and a fireworks screen for emphasis.

“Cisco.”

The men turned on their heels, horrified to find Caitlin back in the entryway of the Cortex.

Cisco’s face went ashy. Barry nearly dropped his phone.

“Caitlin—“

She shook her head, cutting Cisco off, a dangerous look in her eye. “Do you know how selfish you sound? You don’t want me with other people but you don’t want me either!?!”

“What!?”

“How many times have I heard you talk about wanting someone normal? How many times did I have to spell it out for you? How much you mean to me—How many more ways am I supposed to!?”

“The clearest way, Caitlin,” Barry cut in quietly. “It’s not that he’s not interested. He doesn’t know.”

Cisco was now in front of her, imploring. “I don’t know what?”

Caitlin swallowed, tearing her eyes from Barry back to Cisco. “I want to be with you,” she confessed. “It’s not just a crush. It’s not going to pass. I’m so in love with you I'm sick with it.”

It seemed as though Cisco’s mind churned and churned until any coherence jumbled into alphabet soup. “You—? Me?”

Barry smiled.

Caitlin nodded and tugged on Cisco’s shirt hem as he stumbled closer. Barry remembered the weary look in Caitlin’s eyes when he’d caught her hungover weeks ago. It was making its reappearance.

“I’m not normal—“

“—Caitlin.” That was all it took to  snap Cisco’s brain cells back into formation.

“—I’m not wife material anymore, I get that.”

“Caitlin!”

“—But I’m happy with you. I’m so happy with you, Cisco—We don’t need anything else. We don’t have to change or be any different—You’re enough for me and that’s all I’ve ever really cared for—

“Caitlin.”

“—And I understand that you see me like a sister and how this is a total shock but I really thought—You were calling me Cait and sometimes you’d look at me and I’d let myself think—“

“Caitlin!” Cisco held her face in his hands to get her to stop talking. She seized, her words stolen away at their proximity, at his touch on her skin. Her eyes caught in his gaze.

“Cait,” he said much more softly, reverenced. He thumbed her cheek and leaned forward until their  foreheads were pressed together. Caitlin closed her eyes, her shoulders slumping as he slid his hands down her face, her neck, the curve of her shoulders. Arms wrapped around her entirely as they stilled in the hallway.

Barry couldn’t dare move if he tried. He was mistaken, what he thought he saw before. The lines of pain etched into her face, the guarded stiffness in her posture when she finally told him what she wanted. There was something different in the way she held herself and looked at Cisco now. It was not weary and miserable, but yearning and delicate. A heartsickness that despite all the fatigue he’d seen it carry over Caitlin now rested in the same place that signalled newfound strength.

“I don’t expect you to suddenly develop feelings for me overnight—“ she whispered.

“Well that’s impossible,” Cisco murmured into her hair. She stiffened in his arms but he simply held her tighter, continuing. “I already love you more than anything in my life.”

Caitlin startled backwards, covering her mouth with her hand. She made a noise like a yelp. “I thought I was imagining it. I felt like I was going crazy!”

Barry sighed, folding his arms across his chest as he took a seat by the monitors. “I told you!”

They both turned to glare at him, but only for a second. Cisco was immediately drawn back to Caitlin, walking backwards to lead her into the Cortex from their spot in the hallway. “No. No, no, no.” He promised. ”This is my fault, I’m sorry. Every time I was hurt or worried or upset when I was with Kamilla—I just wanted to speak to you. And when I finally admitted to myself it wasn’t working...I was too scared to admit to myself I just wanted to run directly to you, then too.”

Her breath hitched.

“But I didn’t know,” he said. “That it was the same way for you. You told me in Antarctica that you didn’t want to get in the way of me starting a family—I assumed…” Cisco paused abruptly. “You were in the way,” he realized breathlessly. “You were always in the way—Mmph!”

Barry’s heart flipped for the both of them, a dumb smile lighting up his face when Caitlin kissed the hell out of Cisco.

The meta alert dinged on Barry’s phone. He slammed down on the space bar to silence the building alarms before they could jolt them apart. He leaned his chin against his palms as his elbows relaxed against the keyboard with a happy sigh.

Lois and Clark were in town. Superman could get this one.

~.~

For all the air that's in your lungs

For all the joy that is to come

For all the things that you're alive to feel

Just let the pain remind you hearts can heal

[softjeon]

The perfect Illusion | Pt. 1

• Pairing: Geisha!Jimin x Namjoon | Side-Pairing: Geisha!Jungkook x Yoongi • Genre: Fluff / Angst  | Geisha!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 15k |  ↳ AO3 • Disclaimer: mentioning of abusive behavior

*** please note that this story doesn’t mean to represent accurate geisha tradition, it was solely inspired by the beautiful art form, giving it a modern twist in a fictional universe and therefore has been dramatized for entertainment purposes.

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳  He was the perfect illusion. The getaway for anyone who didn’t want to face reality. And yet, there was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and hopeful as if he was dying for someone to see through him, to care for him enough to look behind the mask and draw out the real Jimin. And Namjoon couldn’t wait to do exactly that.

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It was still early, with the sun shining over the mountain’s peak that one could see in the far distance behind the monstrous high buildings. Jimin always thought they were a bit to bland for his liking. And still he wondered how it must feel like to stand up on the twentieth floor and look down on the sea of people below from time to time. Turning the corner, a few children were playing in the streets and women sitting and chatting on their doorsteps. There was silence when he passed and he greeted them with a smile and a simple nod. A young woman blushed. A man, leaning against the banister of his home was inhaling the smoke of his cigarette deeply, when his gaze flickered onto his. 

Just for one second. 

Jimin didn’t need more. With a single look he had the man stop in his tracks, his eyes fixated on him when nothing else existed anymore. Almost as if he was hypnotized for a moment.

Turning his back onto them he could still hear the woman’s shouting, the way she was scolding her husband but Jimin was sure that wasn’t the last time he’d see that man. He smiled to himself and held his head high as he could see a part of the market a few alleys away next to the street where they sold the finest jewelry that he just loved to stroll around and look at. There was no time of day when this part of the city wasn’t crowded. Jimin took a quick short cut, one that lead through a pleasant tree-lined area where it was much calmer. He knew his way around the city and still he always felt like a stranger. Someone that didn’t really belong here. The ribbon around his waist indicating who he truly was. Luckily people treated him with respect, sometimes more out of fear than anything else and others just admired him from afar. Jimin smiled at a young girl who was staring at him, holding onto her mother’s hand tightly. He winked at her and she giggled as if they exchanged a small secret. 

Jimin passed another street, walking by a few high buildings to get to the other side of the market where they sold the finest fabrics. He had promised to get Jungkook a new satin to wear and as he was still a maiko, the younger wasn’t allowed to go out when he was still suppose to train. Jimin sighed and brushed through his hair, blinking up as the sun shone on his face. For a moment he stayed still, well aware that he should keep his skin protected and not get a painful sunburn but the feeling of breaking the rules - just a little - had always excited him. With a soft smile that played on his lips, Jimin walked ahead. He could hear voices coming from the market, people trying to negotiate the price and it had him excited. It was then that his gaze involuntarily wandered over to one of the men hurrying out of what seemed like an office building across the street, waving his hand frantically in the air to catch a taxi. For a second, Jimin stilled completely and even though the other seemed stressed, he still vibrated with an aura that had him fascinated. Tall, lean, the suit he wore fitting him perfectly. 

Namjoon was so tired that his eyes hurt and he could feel the fatigue in every part of his body. The meeting had lasted forever and if it hadn’t been so important he might have excused himself for a coffee break in between just to make sure that he stayed awake. Luckily though it had ended before he could fall off his chair from exhaustion - and it even ended on a good note. All their hard work had finally paid off and the approval copies had done what they should and gotten the investors approval. Now they would have enough buyers to sell their whole current collection which meant that they could start with their new one right away. Namjoon almost got dizzy when he thought about the amount of money that he had just secured for them - though honestly he didn’t do it for the money alone. It was nice being so rich that you knew that you would never have to worry about making ends meet ever again in your life - but without a passion, without something to do that you put your heart into it meant nothing. Luckily in Yoongi he had found someone who was just as determined and passionate as him about their profession: korean inlaid work. Their focused on home decoration but apart from that their range went from small little boxes to store your jewelry in to tables or whole wall-covering wardrobes, each of them decorated with the finest mother of pearl inlay and polished wood. He actually always wore a piece of their work with him in form of a business pen that he used when he had to sign something important - just as he had done right now. 

He breathed out in relief and imagined what he would do when he would finally arrive back home; run a bath, cook some delicious food, maybe ask Yoongi how he was doing at the atelier because the older was there most of the time, drawing, sketching, trying to work out the best patterns and pictures that told the owner of their work a story. He especially loved Yoongi’s butterfly designs that the other excelled in, something that you wouldn’t expect of him when you met Yoongi for the first time and he looked at you with narrowed eyes in his cautious, almost closed off way of greeting strangers. 

Namjoon got as close to the side of the road as he could to wave for a taxi and then hoped that he would get one soon as he kept his arm raised, feeling it getting heavy almost immediately. While he waited he let his gaze wander - and something hit him like a blow. There was a boy in front of him, strolling around the market as if he had all the time in the world. He was so breathtakingly beautiful that Namjoon couldn’t help but blatantly stare at him. Although his beauty wasn’t everything there was to him, he had a smile that looked so honest and genuinely happy that Namjoon could feel his own lips curl up on their own. He had a grace to him that spoke of years of training, maybe in dance or theater - and then Namjoon saw the belt. It was a dark burgundy colored piece of satin, bound in an intricate pattern of knots around his waist, telling those who knew what to look for what he was: a geisha. 

Namjoon swallowed hard. He had always held admiration for those who held onto tradition in such a way but he had never dared to visit a teahouse out of personal reasons before. He had been there many times with other business men or to celebrate a deal but he had always chosen the house that was most convenient in its placement, never because he wanted to see a special geisha. For that boy though he would willingly drive through the whole country just to see him dance or play an instrument or serve him tea. Maybe their newly closed business deal called for exactly that…

Their gazes suddenly met. 

Jimin’s heart jumped and his own eyes shined amber as they stared back at each other. Only a second. A smile played on Jimin’s lips. That was all it took - before he turned the corner quickly, ignoring the rapid beating of his heart. 

“Hey! Are you coming or?” The taxi driver yelled through the halfway rolled down window of his car, obviously confused on what the man was so fixated on when he couldn’t see anything himself that was worthy staring at, “People have to work ya know. If you don’t want a taxi don’t call for one! I got better things to do.” 

Jimin had easily mingled into the ocean of people that were strolling through the market, letting his gaze wander over the dozens of beautiful fabrics. “How can I help you?” The owner of the booth bowed his head and Jimin mimicked him, pointing at the yellow satin that almost seemed golden. Jungkook had always a thing for vibrant colors like these and Jimin thought with his own favorite blue robe, the younger would look absolutely mesmerizing next to him.

Before Namjoon could explain or apologize the taxi was gone and with him his chance to get home and fall into bed. Honestly he was almost glad because as tired as he had been before there was a spark of curiosity that kept his eyes open and his mind focused on one single sing: the elegant geisha boy that had bought some silk in a way that would have suited a documentary about noblemen in ancient times. He was just so naturally graceful that it was a joy to simply watch him. And Namjoon wanted to see more of him! As his ride was gone anyways he picked his bag back up and then hurried tried to walk across the market towards the boy who had left the part where clothes and accessories were sold and was talking to a merchant now who sold little colorful rice cakes. 

When he paid, taking the rice cakes from the salesman, Jimin noticed a man out of the corner of his eyes. He dared to turn his head, just a little to see who it was that had followed him. Jimin had thought it must been the husband maybe, the one he had passed earlier but to his surprise it was the young man again. He held his breath, casting down his eyes and bowing his head just slightly into the man’s direction - a barely there movement as if he was doing a respectful curtsy before he turned around again, using the group of people that just passed to vanish quickly again. Jimin didn’t dare to look back again, loving this sweet game he was playing too much already and hoping that the stranger was intrigued to follow after. 

Namjoon forgot to pretend to be busy himself so when the boy turned in his direction he was obviously caught staring and he blushed - honest to good blushed in the middle of the street - and then tried to turn around to hide his face but the geisha had already seen him. He nodded at him and Namjoon wished he was cooler or more collected because in that moment he couldn't even remember what day it was.

Jimin loved the game they were playing. It made his trip even more exciting as he made his way through the market, well aware that the other was following him. Jimin wondered if he’d would try and talk to him, if he’d noticed that he was a geisha or not. He easily vanished and reappeared in midst the crowds, making sure the stranger could catch glimpses of him – enough to make him interested but not enough to make him catch up. A giggle escaped his lips as he made a sharp turn into the alley that sold jewelry and when he turned to look over his shoulder the man was gone. For a second Jimin was almost sad that he couldn’t see him anymore, but maybe the other had gotten tired of his games. He sighed and reached for one of the pearls when he felt a presence right behind him, the warmth of his body embracing Jimin and he had half a mind to just lean back into him. But instead, Jimin leaned his head to the side, just enough to feel his breath fan over his neck and look shyly over his shoulder. 

Namjoon was intrigued, especially when he noticed that the younger was playing hide and seek with him. He obviously enjoyed vanishing in front of Namjoons eyes and puzzle him long enough for him to think he lost him and get disappointed - just for the joy to flood him again whenever he caught a glimpse of him again. He hadn’t even seen his face properly and he already was totally hooked on him. Namjoon was baffled by how well the younger played him even though they hadn’t exchanged a single word before. Finally he seemed to get a chance of getting close to the geisha when he was distracted by a string of pearls, long enough for Namjoon to change directions and sneak up on him from another angle. He felt a little like a creep but if it meant that he would be able to see the flirtatious geisha’s face then he could deal with that feeling - or so he hoped. He was almost close enough to touch the younger when the boy stiffened, noticing his presence without even turning his back. He would be crazily attentive and Namjoon was kind of impressed. 

“If I didn’t know better that you’re a gentleman, I’d say you’ve been following me sir.” Jimin blinked up at him, regretting that he chose not to wear any makeup today. Nowadays there was no rule for them to wear their costumes outside, although the belt always indicated their belonging anyways. Jimin let his hand soothe over the soft pearls, reaching into his pocket to pay for them.

Namjoon didn’t know what he had expected the youngers voice to be but he could have never imagined a voice that sweet, like honey, warm and melting on his tongue. He played along easily, even though he had blushed so hard just shortly ago but it felt natural to do and he quote enjoyed it. 

“Following you? Oh I wouldn’t dare to follow a beauty like you around. Because one could get the wrong impression. And I’d never ruin your undoubtedly flawless reputation.”

Jimin smiled taking the string from the owner of the booth and turned his head to blink up and gaze into the eyes of the stranger. It was far longer than he intended to, but he couldn’t help but to be intrigued himself. It was obvious how well spoken the other was, how handsome and well-mannered, that he must indeed be a gentleman. “That’s good to know. I wish you a good day, sir.” Jimin casted down his eyes and with a fleeting brush of his arm against Namjoon’s, the geisha was gone again. 

Jimin took his lies and turned them around, waving goodbye quickly before vanishing right in front of his eyes just like before and as if he had planned to make the end of their conversation as dramatic as possible. Namjoon cursed under his breath, regretting that he hadn't asked the younger’s name or at least the name of his establishment: it would be a hell of a lot of work to find out where he worked at and if he had bad luck the teahouse owners wouldn’t disclose that kind of information for the boys safety. 

He was fucked.

…

“God fucking damn it!” Yoongi cursed loudly. His coffee spilled all over his sketches and the young man groaned in anger. “I shouldn’t have gone out of bed this morning,” He mumbled under his breath when the door to the studio opened and Namjoon walked in and although he seemed rather happy it didn’t lift Yoongi’s spirits. “If you don’t have good news for me, I’ll consider jumping out of this window and yes I know we’re on the first floor and I don’t care.” He raked through his hair in a desperate manner, before finally reaching for the tissues to try and keep the damage in check but it was too late already. He would have to do it all over again tomorrow.

“Maybe it was a sign that you should take some rest for once and stop overworking yourself. You will have enough work waiting for you the next few months. Because I just sold our entire collection!” He knew that Yoongi had some difficulties with sudden skinship or else he would have swept him off his feet in a hug from how happy he was. “Which means you’ve got a blank canvas now and can start an entirely new collection - or you could just say ‘fuck it’ and never work again because they were really generous with the money. Though please don’t - I need you in this business because if it wasn’t for your sketches our new design would probably be simple squares because I might share your fantasies but I totally can't bring them on paper.” He fished one of the half soaked papers out from the stack of the ruined sketches and held it up. It showed an intricate bird design with a twig of cherry blossoms in full bloom with a bumblebee filling a blank space and tumbling petals. Namjoon could already imagine how beautiful it would look as an inlay, the light pearly shimmer in stark contrast against the dark, polished wood. “It’s beautiful!” Then he coughed, remembering what he was trying to ask him. “Apropos beautiful…,” He was thinking about the geisha but he couldn’t just say that right away so his transition wouldn’t make sense to Yoongi and as he knew that his cheeks dusted again, “How about we properly celebrate it this time? No other investors or business people, just us?”

Yoongi cocked up an eyebrow in interest when he heard the words celebrating but his brows furrowed right after though when he realized the transition from beautiful to celebrating didn’t make much sense. “What do you have in mind? If you’re just thinking about going to the opera again I might decline this time. Didn’t know your way of fun was listening to someone scream for four hours straight.” Yoongi chuckled at the fond memory, because every time he let Namjoon decide what they should do to celebrate it only ended in them going on a educational trip instead. And he could just sleep in his bed instead of the uncomfortable chairs in the opera house. When he threw the soaked papers into the bin, Yoongi let himself fall back onto the couch that stood in the middle of their studio. “Oh and no trips to the historical museum or any kind of historical place...please, chose something fun instead. Something that we both enjoy, how about that?”

Namjoon got a little nervous because lying to Yoongi - or bending the truth a little - was never easy. He was bad at lying in general but Yoongi saw through people like an x-ray machine. “No, no, don’t worry, it’s none of that. I was actually thinking about... visiting a tea house if you want?” It was a rhetorical question because of course Yoongi would be up for it. He admired all kinds of arts and beauty and he was reckless enough to openly enjoy watching pretty boys while it was normally Namjoon who felt uncomfortable or conflicted about supporting an institution that so openly prioritized superficial qualities. They had actually talked about this before because when they were invited by their contract partners, which happened quite a lot, then of course Namjoon went together with Yoongi. Though in the evening they often ended up discussing because Yoongi had been enjoyed himself and those short lived pleasures while Namjoon was worried or bothered by the fact that outside of the tea house the boys and girls didn’t have any practical skills and if they didn’t get enough money with their mizuage then they were stuck working at the same tea house and if no one offered to marry them they would be left with nothing at the end of their retirement which was usually set around 50 years. Yoongi just told him he worried too much.

“A tea house? You want to go to a tea house?” Yoongi looked at his friend, eyeing him head to toe. “Did you smoke something?” He teased his friend with a laugh, “Hell yeah, we can go to a tea house. Actually there’s this new place I’d love to try. It’s further downtown. I think it’s owned by the same dude...but they have different shows there.” Yoongi nodded enthusiastically. He always enjoyed an artistic show and if it meant for him to sit back, relax and just simply watch beautiful people then he was all for it. “What are we waiting for then?” Jumping up from the couch, Yoongi grabbed his jacket and keys, “Let’s get suited up.”

“Uhm, o-okay.” Initially he had planned on calling a few tea houses and giving them the description of the boy he had seen to ask if he lived there but he figured that the boy must be from around here anyways because he had seemed familiar with one or two of the merchants as if he came there regularly. So why not try the house closest to them, maybe he got lucky and then he didn’t even have to behave suspiciously which meant Yoongi might never find out why exactly he suddenly wanted to go there in the first place. As he had just gotten there he didn’t need to change a lot, he just put away his suitcase and loosened his tie before following after Yoongi who seemed really excited at the prospect of them going to a teahouse alone without any tiring business talk involved.

Yoongi had been excited, not caring anymore why Namjoon had suddenly wanted to go into a teahouse, figuring that the other just wanted to do something good for him in return. Namjoon just was that kind of a friend and nothing would dim his excitement now. 

“I take a red wine, please,” Yoongi said with a smile towards the waitress and then leaned back. From where they sat they had a great overview on the stage and the music was already starting to play indicating the start of the show. Turning towards Namjoon, he noticed the others stiff posture and reached out for him. “Hey, relax. This is just one night off. Just enjoy the show, okay?”

It was a very modern take on a teahouse and it made Namjoon simultaneously feel relieved and more uncomfortable. Relieved because they boys were on stage instead of sitting together with them in a small room to serve tea and uncomfortable because the arrangement felt a little similar to a strip club; with lots of men sitting around waiting for someone beautiful to come on stage and dance for them while they consumed their alcohol and tea.

Yoongi didn’t care. His eyes shone the moment the geishas stepped on stage and showcased their art one by one. It always had fascinated him: the beauty, the artistry, the sensuality. It send shivers down his spine each time. He was so lost in the show and the stories the dancers told, that Yoongi completely forgot about the wine he had ordered and only remembered it when the light went on again. 

Namjoon appreciated how well prepared the dancers were, how graceful they moved and how easily they portrayed their story or played a character even though their routines looked challenging and demanding. There was one thing though that disappointed him immensely: None of them were the boy he had seen earlier today. 

With their heavy make up it took him awhile to figure out how their faces must look like under it but he was absolutely certain that the boy from the market hadn’t been on stage. 

He frowned.

Outside of the establishment, Yoongi put his arm around Namjoon (as much as he could and only while pulling him down as he was way shorter), “Are you okay?” He furrowed his brows and nudged Namjoon’s side, “You know you don’t have to do these kind of things for me, right? If you really don’t enjoy it we can easily just go out and eat next time.” Letting go off Namjoon, he waved his hand to call for a taxi, “With you paying of course.” 

Namjoon huffed, his mouth twitching back up. Even though the evening had been disappointing for him at least it had lightened Yoongi's mood. “Sure, in other words you forgot to buy food again and have an empty fridge so you’re trying to make me pay for you even though you could easily afford it to pay yourself - or just let stuff get delivered to you.” Their playful little banters were part of their routine and not to be taken seriously. 

It was what made them perfect together after all. They were as different as one could be, but together they were the greatest business team and Namjoon would have never asked for another partner. 

“Let’s get you home, shall we?” Yoongi chuckled, patting Namjoon’s shoulder as they sat down in the taxi, paying the driver by cash. They only parted at the front of their doors, their apartments on the same floor in the same building. Some would have thought it was crazy, but Namjoon thought it was what made them unique. He had shared his living space with Yoongi when they were barely making it and now when they had more than enough it was only natural for them to stay close in one way or another. Yoongi saluted him lazily, reminding him in between a yawn to not wake him tomorrow. “Dream of beautiful geisha boys dancing for you, Joonie.” 

Then he closed the door.

…

“I need you to sign here and here,” The man in the grey suit said, a smile on his face, waiting for one of them to pick up the pen. It had been a few weeks since they had been celebrating their last contract and Namjoon had been looking for the boy. 

He had failed ever since. 

He couldn’t find him at the market anymore, nor somewhere close. So, Namjoon tried to concentrate back onto work and not let a random stranger that he had met once and exchanged just a couple of words make him go crazy already. How could a simple glance from the geisha do that to him?

When Namjoon finally set his signature, he took the stack of papers, pushing one copy of them back to him and the other to his boss. “Great!” Mr. Ling, one of their new offerors, said and reached out his hand to shake both of theirs, “I can’t wait to sell your delicate designs in Japan. It is a great idea of yours to expand, Mr. Kim.” He nodded over to Yoongi and then added, “I will set up the export contract as soon as possible. Why don’t we celebrate our agreement? As I am still here for a few more days I’d like for you to be my guests tonight then we can settle the investment and anything else further tonight?”

”Oh, it would be our pleasure!” Namjoon’s response came fluidly without a second of hesitation while internally everything he thought was ‘not another teahouse please’. He had seen enough of them from the inside now and it bothered him that he was so caught up in the memory of that boy when he didn’t even knew his name. He should have asked for it. Or where he worked. It would have made the search so much easier. 

Though was that really what he wanted, visiting him and acting like all the other men who thought that they might become someone special to the boys there? His perfect smile almost wavered and he was glad when Yoongi chimed in to make small talk with the older man.

“Expect my driver to pick you up at eight then,” Mr. Ling bowed his head in a respectful manner, “Wear something high-end. It’s an exclusive gentlemen club I want to introduce you to. You can only get in with an invitation tonight.” He was bragging, obviously proud that he was one of the gentleman who were allowed to bring in new people and the more the two of them were thankful that he thought they would be suitable. When Mr. Ling was gone, Yoongi turned around to his partner with a big smile, “Are we really invited to a gentlemen's club tonight? You and me?” He laughed wholeheartedly, grabbing his bag with the designs and lead the way outside, “I need a new suit asap!”

“If there’ll be lightly clad women dancing to bad music then I’ll have to excuse myself…,” Namjoon grumbled knowing damn well that he wouldn’t because a few rules still applied even though they were technically rich men themselves now: 1) If you wanted to do business you needed to be nice to customers 2) The more money a customer had the more they thought they knew everything 3) Offending said customers was really dangerous because in their state of constant egocentric attitude they could make it their personal mission to destroy you because no one who didn’t curried favours with them deserved to have a blooming business. 

“You’ll see it’s going to be alright,” Yoongi answered, “I don’t think he means a strip club when he talks about exclusive invitations only. It sounds like the perfect opportunity for us gentlemen to be.” He chuckled, “And if not, I will find a good and plausible way to get us out of there after a few drinks. You really need to relax more, Joon. You’ve been kind of off lately.” He closed the trunk of his car after he threw in his bag and looked at his friend with furrowed brows, “Maybe you need a massage or something or just a good ‘fuck’. When was the last time you got laid?”

Namjoon choked on air when Yoongi suddenly went from casually conventional to very very private. “That’s none of your business?” He answered, when he could finally breathe again and with a last attempt to keep his dignity he added, “Unless you are offering to help with that?” He made a show of looking Yoongi up and down though in reality there wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen yet. They knew each other long enough that they had seen each other in all kind of situations, with only shorts and a thin shirt in the middle of the night when Yoongi couldn’t sleep again, wet as a dog in see through, sticky clothes after they had been surprised by a summer rain downpour or pale and skinny in nothing but a hospital gown when Yoongi’s had that accident where he had injured his shoulder a few years ago...

Yoongi cringed visibly, scrunching up his nose as he walked past his friend. “If you’re already considering me then it’s really time for you to let loose again.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t get the image out of his head and sat down in the driver’s seat. “Now get your cute ass into the car! We’ve got to get ourselves ready for tonight.” He nodded, holding his nose high up while he got out of the parking lot, “A real gentleman needs his time and we sure don’t want to disappoint Mr. Ling, right?”

Namjoon had nothing to say against that, knowing the importance of an invite like that. It was important for them to make new connections, as well as strengthening the once they had. Business always meant politics and Yoongi liked to remind him that he was the better talker from the both of them. Of course, the other had a way with customers too, but Yoongi couldn’t always keep his mouth shut when it came down to unfair treatment. Namjoon chuckled to himself, when memories flooded his mind and he had to calm Yoongi after meetings as they began to expand their business, who called the offerers all kind of names. Luckily those times were over and they had made their stand in the business world. People respected them and their work now. 

That evening, he chose one of his dark blue suits, the one that had a wide belt built in around his waist. He always thought it brought too much attention to his length, but Yoongi assured him that he looked good in it, that it was the perfect mixture between traditional and modern suit. Yoongi himself had chosen a black suit with metallic pattern that's shimmered whenever light fell onto it and Namjoon had half a mind to touch it. “The driver’s going to be here any minute,” Yoongi said and pushed Namjoon’s wallet into his hands, checking his watch once more. “Don’t make this face as if someone’s forcing you to look at naked women,” Yoongi nudged Namjoon’s side and reminded him to keep his posture, “Just two drinks and then I’ll smuggle you out of there if needed.” He smiled reassuringly at his friend, who only hummed in response - the thought of a strip club now branded into his mind. 

He let his friend pull him down and towards the car already waiting for them and only then Namjoon put on his usual ‘business’ smile that he had trained over years. He greeted they new business partner with a handshake and a respectful bow, placing himself right next to Yoongi as he felt the safest right next to him and let his partner do the talk this time. As it was usually him, Namjoon actually could relax a little more, leaning back into the comfortable leather of the car, only now noticing the luxurious interior. “You will love this club!” Mr. Ling addressed Namjoon and the other jerked out of his thoughts that had drifted off while watching the street lamps pass by, “It’s invitation only tonight and I reserved us and the others a tea room for after the show.”

On the outside Namjoon nodded with a smile, but on the inside he wished himself back into his bed. Another tea house? He fairly had enough of them. Especially now that his mind was clear enough again and he wasn’t thinking about that one boy. 

The geisha that had clouded his mind with just one gaze. Namjoon was still confused on how it had been possible. That it had made him throw over his own morals for a moment, made him follow and even look for him in hope to just see the geisha once more. What did he even try to gain? A nudge from Yoongi let Namjoon snap back into reality and he stared at him wide-eyed. 

“We’re here,” Yoongi whispered, “Where are you with your mind? Try and concentrate just a bit okay? I really don’t want to lose the contract right away okay? We already signed...but he hasn’t, yet, remember? And we need to settle on a sum of money. If this doesn't work out he won’t send us the papers, I’m sure. So try and be a normal member of this society for once before drifting off again okay? You can do that when you’re home again.” He patted Namjoon’s thigh lovingly, before getting out of the car with Namjoon right behind him. 

Gazing up, they stood in front of what seemed like a modern theater and only the tinted windows and golden writing above let them know that this was a high class club or establishment. Namjoon took a look over his shoulder, trying to take in the environment, the clubs and establishments around. He had never been here before - most likely because he wasn’t one for snobby clubs and if he’d rather went out for food and a good meal instead of a club to dance for. A pull at his arm, reminded him to walk ahead and Namjoon smiled awkwardly at the bodyguards at the front that checked them warily as they entered staying close to their Mr. Ling who was still talking about his wife and his favorite stew. Namjoon was only half-heartedly listening, completely in awe about the teahouse. 

But this wasn’t just a teahouse. 

This was a theater and with its golden mahogany and red interior it only accentuated it’s exclusiveness. He stumbled after the group of people to a booth where they sat down and Namjoon let his hand soothe over the fabric loving the feel against the palm of his hand. “Did I promise too much?” Mr. Ling laughed and his eyes got a mischievous glint when a young boy neared, bowing his head respectfully as he offered them some tea and alcoholic beverages. They all ordered, leaving only Namjoon who quickly stammered something about a wine. “Soft, please.” He added quickly before the boy was gone. “It’s my favorite tea house by far. Not even the ones back home can uphold with this one.” Mr. Ling explained and pointed towards the stage that was still covered with a curtain, only some traditional music playing from somewhere was setting the mood. “It’s the perfect mixture of tradition and modern arts. And Mr. Jung has only the most talented boys. All of them go through great training,” He leaned back, taking a cigar from one of his accompanies and offered them one but both declined, “Nowadays it’s hard to find a teahouse like this, believe me. You will enjoy this and if you see the boys up close later in the room I reserved, you’ll thank me. They call the boy’s ‘hummingbirds’,” Mr. Ling’s voice toned down, when the light was fading out and there was a expecting hum going through the crowds that mostly consisted of men tonight, “Sweet, delicate, with beautiful voices that will enchant you.” 

Namjoon furrowed his brows, biting his lip as he turned his head around to the stage. He was sure that he would have ended up like Mr. Ling one day if he had continued his search for his geisha. He seemed almost manic with the way he talked about the young boys. He was probably thinking that he was precious to the boys as well, that he was their special guest but in the end - they were only leaving their money with them. Namjoon’s eyes focused on the stage and when he took a look around there was the same gaze on everyone’s face and if he didn’t knew better he would say that all of them were hypnotized. 

The music faded out, just to start anew with a loud drum that made Namjoon jerk a little. A young man sat on the stage, his face painted, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling as he started to move slowly. His hands reached out for the air and he pulled back, when the music began to fastened. Yoongi was just as hypnotized as everyone else, his hand reaching for Namjoon’s arm who hissed at the sudden pain but the other couldn’t help it. “He’s beautiful,” He stammered, watching the boy twirl until more dancers joined him on stage, dancing absolutely beautifully to the rhythmic music. “They all wear the same make up, Yoongi.” Namjoon mumbled back at him, “They look the same.”

“But they don’t dance the same way.” He whispered and locked his eyes onto the boy who had faded into the group dancing perfectly in sync with the other maikos to open up the show. Namjoon had figured that this was the more traditional part Mr. Ling had referred to, as he watched them move rhythmically in their colorful costumes. The stage had a T-shaped catwalk at the front and although Namjoon felt safe before, now that the dancers were walking off the main part and towards the end of it, he scooted back on his seat. He had seen teahouses before and he had seen performances - but the usual establishments had a main floor where the geishas were dancing, playing instruments or showing off other arts while the people were seated on the floor around him. This was different. This was spectacular, big and something he had never seen but in movies. The dance ended with rose petals falling from the ceiling and Namjoon curiously looked up to try and figure out the technical part of the show, his gaze wandering over to the light station, where someone sat with a headset, motioning somewhere when the spotlight fell onto the stage again. He was in complete awe at how much time and preparation must have went in to making a show like this come alive and almost completely missed the start of the second performance. 

After a while and in midst of the first break of the show, Namjoon had come to terms that he liked it - more than he wanted to admit. But in the end, he loved a good show just as much as everyone else. His mood didn’t stay bright for long, when he caught up onto the conversation next to him. “There’s a mizuage in a few months,” Mr. Ling’s words cut right through the relaxed mind of Namjoon. “You mean like in....selling off someone’s virginity?” Namjoon couldn’t help but ask, his own standpoint clear on his facial expression. “Yes, like that, Mr. Kim. But don’t worry. It’s not like a brothel here in general. You can buy the boys time, but not their sexual services. If you want that, I can give you some great tips for other houses.”

Yoongi had placed a calming hand on Namjoon’s thigh, but it still couldn’t help that a shudder ran through him. As much as he respected people that stayed true to traditions in a way, he hated it how people could make money off something like the concept of virginity. He had argued about it with Yoongi a lot of times and while the other was a bit more cool with it, Namjoon was disgusted at the thought of it. 

If it wasn’t for Yoongi and the thought of keeping the contract, he would have told the other off that selling someone’s virginity was just as much prostitution as anything else that meant selling your body against your will - or not. Now that he thought about it Namjoon wasn’t even sure if the dancers were here on their own free will and if they had choices. He opened his mouth, wanting to ask more about geishas, how someone like the owner could pay off all of this, coming to realize that he basically knew nothing but the performance and what geisha’s portrayed on the outside aspect of it when the light went out again and everyone’s conversations died down. 

Now, each time a dancer stepped on stage Namjoon tried to figure out if they were happy with what they were doing. But their expressions were either emotionless or just playing their part of the story perfectly and one couldn’t see through the masks. 

It was too easy for Namjoon to overthink this, he’d always had a habit to do so and it would only lead to headache - he was sure of that. Rubbing the side of his temples, Namjoon took another sip of his wine and just tried to calm himself. He would only go through with the show and maybe excuse himself then to go back home - that was his plan and he would stick to it. 

A gasp fell from the crowd and Namjoon blinked his eyes when the lights on stage began to flicker as if there was a lightning, followed by the drumming sound of thunder. The dancers that had shown a traditional dance before, were now staring ahead into the crowd and Namjoon had half a mind to turn to look over his shoulder to see what they were looking at, when they got into a formation of a flower and in midst of them all stood a young men, waving his fan delicately just below his eyes with which he was piercing through the crowd. The music began to shift into a modern tune and the dancer instantly reacted to it as if the music itself was controlling him. With a smile that played on his lips, they showed off a few formations, mixing modern dance with the instrumentals of traditional music and somehow it reminded Namjoon of their designs. Soft, delicate movements and still so full of control. That boy knew exactly what to do next, every expression and gesture was right on time and it had everyone in the audience mesmerized - until he jumped and a loud thunder broke through the stage, tearing a just as loud gasp from the audience, unsure whether it was staged or not. 

The stage light dimmed down, a single light on the boy that faded him into a blue color as if the moon itself was shining only for him. Every dancer was gone but him. Following the tune of a flute, he began to move his arms all the way up to his fingertips, his eyes glistening. The part of the stage where he stood had lowered itself a few inches, just enough for water to fill in the space. It was barely recognizable for the audience, everything working so smoothly that only the droplets of water falling from his fingertips gave away that he was in midst of water now. A smile appeared on his lips, as he pushed himself up, arching his back beautifully, reaching out into thin air and then he stopped. His linenshirt was sticking to his back, water dripping down. His chest was heaving heavily as he bared his neck to look up so slowly that one could make out every feature of his face. The light was shining directly onto his face as he turned towards the audience - and then it began to rain. It was like a movie scene, the boy was dancing, water splashing with each movement while the light was making the water sparkle like diamonds. No one could tear their gaze off of that boy, who was so effortlessly moving in sync with the music. 

Yoongi almost choked on his tea when he saw Namjoon’s star struck expression, of course everyone else looked similarly entranced because the boy was just stunning and amazingly talented - but coming from Namjoon who had reduced the well-liked and highly valued tradition of a maiko’s coming of age ceremony to prostitution in front of their business partner - to say Yoongi was surprised would have been an understatement. A smile stole its way onto his lips. Maybe they would be able to visit a few tea houses together from now on without Namjoon being a spoilsport.

The music stopped and for a moment there was silence. Only the sound of dripping audible coming from the young man’s shirt as his lips curved into a confident smile. Then all hell broke loose and the audience was cheering as the light turned off and the curtain fell again. Yoongi was clapping too, but his gaze was on his friend who had gotten up from his seat, giving a standing ovation and he wasn’t sure if Namjoon was even realizing what he was doing. 

“I told you,” Mr. Ling said with a knowing grin, “They are true diamonds. Hoseok only trains the best boys.” Yoongi chuckled and patted Namjoon’s thigh lovingly, to make the other jerk out of his trance. 

“So much for me having to find an excuse for you to leave. If I didn’t knew better I’d say you’d enjoyed yourself a lot just now.” He gave his colleague a teasing grin and then got up from his seat quickly to follow Mr. Ling who was talking about the delicious tea they would get. This was something new even for Yoongi. He’s had business discussions in tea rooms before but definitely none of this class because renting a simple tea room alone was really expensive so he didn’t want to think about what Mr. Lings reservation for them cost. He was curious if the tea ceremony would be a traditional one or if it would have a modern touch just like the show just now.

…

As soon as the curtain had fallen, Jimin wrapped his arms around his body and shivered. The smile vanished and instead his lips were trembling, as he stepped out of the water. “W-w-hy can’t we use warm water?” Jimin asked and gladly took the towel Jungkook offered, shaking his wet hair to let the young maiko feel the cold for himself. “You did so well, Kook.” Jimin easily let him help to get out of his wet clothes, “I’m so proud of you. I wouldn’t be surprised if Mr. Jung will give you more solos soon.” 

Jungkook quickly shook his head, cheeks dusted pink from the praise, “Ah, no, it’s fine like this. I’m not even close to your level. You should have seen the way the visitors were mesmerized by you, all their attention was solely on you when you danced.” Jungkook sighed quietly. He was actually a little jealous but he loved Jimin too much to let that affect him or their friendship. “I bet you’ll receive a new marriage proposal by the end of the week.”

“You don’t have to be close to me. You’re amazing on your own,” Jimin smiled at Jungkook genuinely and then nodded at their dressing table that stood backstage. All the other geisha’s were either still touching up their make ups or already out and doing service, so there weren’t many around. Jimin liked it better this way, when it was just the two of them. He trusted Jungkook – and only him. “If it just would be so easy as a proposal,” He chuckled quietly, too much pain in his words and for a moment sadness washed over his face, before he blinded Jungkook with a smile again. Grabbing the powder quickly, Jimin pushed it into the maiko’s hands, “Will you help me touch up my makeup?” 

“Of course!” Jungkook eagerly took everything Jimin would need and then helped him as best as he could. He didn’t comment on Jimin’s strange behaviour. Jimin had always loved dancing so he wasn’t like those who wanted to built a home with someone and get a family as soon as possible, leaving their former life behind without the blink of an eye. Still Jungkook couldn’t help but bring it up from time to time. Because he was fascinated by that thought just as much as he was scared. He didn’t want to lose Jimin, ever but he knew that Jimin would only be his mentor for a little while longer. As soon as he had become a geisha himself he wouldn’t “require” Jimin’s care. The thought alone made his chest tight and had him gripping his own silk robe even tighter. He didn’t feel like he was ready. It was an honor that Hoseok thought his education and training were finished and he wasn’t even the one with the shortest training period but still, Jungkook didn’t want to change anything in his life, not even achieve what he had worked for so hard if it meant that he would lose the only person who had ever truly cared for him.

Jimin had his eyes closed while Jungkook was doing his best to touch up his makeup, completely relaxed. When the younger set the final dash of rouge, Jimin leaned over to look in the mirror with a content smile. “Thank you.” In the reflection his gaze wandered up towards the clock involuntarily and a gasp fell from his lips. “Oh, we have to hurry, Jungkookie.” Jimin jumped up from his seat and quickly went over to where his robe was hanging, waiting to be worn. “Quick, help me.” As much as they had to hurry, Jimin still took off the delicate clothing as careful as possible. He had ironed it for hours and didn’t want to ruin it just because he got hectic. Stepping into the robe with Jungkook’s help was much easier and he would never be able to tie it all up without his help. A geisha always needed the help of their maiko, or a dresser. When he was about to give the belt over to Jungkook, his eyes flickered over to the backstage door as it opened. Without a second thought, Jimin bowed his head, pushing Jungkook simultaneously to do the same. 

Hoseok entered the room, a pleased smile on his lips to see his dancers bow immediately and elegantly for him just like they were supposed to. He gave them a sign to relax and then waved Jungkook closer. “Our guests are waiting already in the main room. Tae is with them but as you know he can’t serve them alone so please help him until Jimin is ready, will you?” Jungkook’s eyes flickered over to his friend, a little too wide and nervous because he normally wasn’t even allowed to do a single step without Jimin and now suddenly he was supposed to serve with another geisha though of course this wasn’t a request but an order so he quickly bowed and lifted the long layers of silk that he was wearing to run over to the main tea room. 

Hoseok took the belt from where Jungkook had wordlessly put it down and had Jimin turning around for him. He carefully smoothed down the layers of his robe so that the belt would fit snug and perfectly around his waist. “You danced beautifully today, as always.” He praised him honestly while placing the belt around his waist. Jimin held it in place at the front so Hoseok could pull it tight. He did and a breathless gasp fell from Jimin’s lips. He was used to Jungkook’s gentle way of tightening it and hadn’t expected the sudden pull. But the tighter the belt the more beautiful his attire would look so he bit his lip and didn’t say anything about it.

“Thank you,” Jimin’s voice sounded a bit breathless, while his gaze flickered over to his reflection and staring right back into Hoseok’s eyes. “I apologize though that it took longer for me to get ready than everyone else,” The younger averted his gaze softly, “I’ll try and do it quicker next time.”

“It’s okay. We can just add a little more time for you to get ready next time. You need to dry yourself completely or else you might get sick. You musn't get sick, Jimin. You are the heart of the show. My precious little hummingbird.” He put in the last pin and then gave the younger a soft pat on the shoulder. “Off you go. Be nice to our guests, they are really wealthy businessmen and if you make a good impression on them they might come again for you and bring their money with them. So show your best side please. I know you can be really sweet when you want to.”

Jimin didn’t answer. There was no need to answer. Instead he bowed his head respectfully, before checking himself once more in the mirror and then made his way out of the backstage area, letting the younger maiko’s do the job of cleaning up after them and making sure everything was back where it needed to be.

“Hummingbird,” Jimin whispered to himself, closing his eyes to relax and ignore how tightly the belt was embracing him, making it hard for him to breathe. Instead he rolled his shoulders back to keep his posture and reached out for the sliding door.

…

Yoongi turned to look over his shoulder for the second time now, furrowing his brows at Namjoon still dazed look, as the tall man stumbled behind them. “Are you alright?” He asked with a low voice, as they followed the loud chatting group of men and Mr. Ling upstairs and to the tea rooms. “You are a little pale, Joon. You know I was just joking, right? If you still need me to get you out of here or something.” His eyes flickered to their business partner, flashing him a smile and then back to his friend as he got rid of his shoes at the front of the door and hoped for Namjoon to do the same, “It just seemed like you enjoyed it a lot. Maybe you just don’t want…the private room stuff?”

Namjoon swallowed harshly. It had been him, he was absolutely certain of that. He had known it, even before the spotlight had illuminated the dancer’s face he had felt it in his gut that this was the boy he had been looking for, the geisha with the kind eyes and the charming smile that had bewitched him with one gaze alone. This couldn’t be happening, he had just let go of the thought, had just decided to get back on his moral high horse and never step a foot into an establishment again where young boys had to be deflowered to be seen as an adult and now... now the only thing he could think of was that boys face and how utterly overwhelmingly stunning he had performed. He wanted to see him again! 

And then he realized that if that boy was a full on geisha then he had worked his way up and had participated in the same rituals, the same routines like everyone else of his status. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought that someone like him, someone who had fallen for his eyes or his sweetness or his talent had sponsored his mizuage and therefore earned the right to have him for one single night. He had no idea if the boys were allowed to chose who sponsored them or if the just had to take the highest bidder. 

He must have looked as sick as he felt at that moment because Yoongi addressed him with worry in his tone and Namjoon quickly tried to close off his feelings. There was no time to have a full on breakdown over being interested in a geisha. “Don’t worry about me please. It’s fine. I’m just thinking about the performance.” He wasn't even properly lying as he had been thinking about the performance over and over again - the part that “his” geisha had danced. 

“Good,” Yoongi smiled, patting Namjoon’s shoulder reassuringly, “Tell me if you need some fresh air or anything. I think we were all blown away but remember we can’t fuck this night up, okay? We still need him to sign the papers.” The room they stepped in was far more traditional than the theater itself, but still it held an extravagant style that it had Yoongi speechless as he had never seen it before in any other tea house. The dark wooden table in midst of the large room was filled with snacks and it pulled Yoongi in right away and with him Namjoon as he still held onto his friend’s arm. He barely gave the other decoration a second glance, the food far more interesting than anything else. It didn’t take long for a few of Mr. Ling’s other business partners to come in and join them at the table. Yoongi relaxed visibly, when he could see Namjoon getting back into his natural habitat: talking business. That was until the door slid open and a young boy sat on his knees, bowing deeply to greet the men, making all of them snap their heads around.

“Good Evening,” Taehyung’s low voice send a shiver effectively down everyone’s spine and he slowly looked up, a mischievous smile on his lips, “I hope you enjoyed the show. It would be a great pleasure for me to…” The geisha got caught off by a push on his side, when someone placed himself right next to him rather roughly. Heavy breathing indicating that the other had run all the way up to the tea rooms instead of walking slowly as they were supposed to. Taehyung eyed Jungkook from the side, trying not to roll his eyes in annoyance. At least the younger was bowing deeply. “It would be a pleasure for us to join you tonight and celebrate with you.” Taehyung ended his greeting with a smile, although he wanted to grab Jungkook by his collar to tell him a word or two but the customers were more important to entertain now. Getting up, Taehyung walked inside and sat down right next to Mr. Ling, leaving Jungkook to close the door behind him.  

It was almost funny how one person could hold so much attention on himself just by being there. The boy slowly prepared the tea and they watched him, business pushed into the back of their heads while the little maiko who had rushed into the room at last minute helped as best as he could. He was pretty, the make up hiding most of his features but he had a cute mouth and big doe eyes and Yoongi found himself smiling at the younger’s cuteness as he quickly gathered everything necessary for the tea ceremony. After the tea was ready and Mr. Ling had a steaming cup in his hands he sighed contentedly and finally addressed what they had been waiting for: “Well, did you bring the papers? Now would be the perfect time to talk a little about what each of us will make of this little arrangement of ours.” Yoongi was the one keeping the documents in his bag because Namjoon had a habit of losing stuff so he pulled them out and gave them over. While Mr. Ling losely scanned the paragraphs Yoongi’s eyes wandered back to the Maiko who filled cup after cup of tea. 

Everyone else was talking. They had signed the papers for the overall agreement this morning and now it was about how much their partner was willing to invest in Yoongi’s and Namjoon’s business. The most important part.  Namjoon was gesturing around, telling Mr. Ling and his co-workers how much percent they needed to make this work. Everyone was fixated on the interaction - but Yoongi. 

Jungkook tried his hardest not to bite his lip and therefore ruin the lipstick he wore as he concentrated to fill in each cup perfectly. It was different when he was with Jimin, then he wasn’t as nervous as he was without him and Taehyung didn’t help in that case. The geisha was sitting close to Mr. Ling, obviously knowing the familiar face. It was clear to Jungkook that Taehyung wanted to have the highest tip tonight, going for the seemingly richest man of the group. The other had a habit of making a competition out of everything and now that he had the chance to be there right before Jimin would chime in again, he would use it as his advantage. Jungkook eyed Taehyung from the side who was laughing along with a joke, touching the man’s thigh ever so lightly. It was a moment where he lacked concentration, his fingers trembling from holding the heavy teacup that was burning his fingertips simultaneously. It was enough to make him spill a bit of the hot water right into the young man’s lap and Jungkook’s eyes widened immediately, just hoping that Taehyung or anyone else hadn't seen anything. He would be doomed if Hoseok knew that he wasn’t even able to pour in tea correctly. Gulping heavily, Jungkook’s gaze was fixated on the young man, completely frozen in shock.

Yoongi’s eyes seemed to find their way back to the young boy over and over again - while the little Maiko was concentrated on anything else but him. He didn’t even look at him, he either kept his gaze fixated on his tea or held his head bowed in a polite manner - which would have been a little more convincing if he wouldn't sneak glances at the geisha in the room who was entertaining mostly Mr. Ling right now. Yoongi couldn’t care less. He was more intrigued by the boy who had finally arrived at his place and was trying to fill the tea cup that stood in front of him. Again he sneaked a glance and the teapot wavered, hot tea spilling over. Yoongi flinched hard and the boys froze immediately and so fully that it looked like he was under some kind of petrification spell, his eyes so wide that it was almost comical. When Yoongi had gotten over the little shock of the hot liquid on his skin he carefully, slowly reached for a napkin and dabbed the tea away from his clothes. Spilling tea on customers was an affront in every tea house and he couldn’t imagine what the consequences must be for a Maiko in such an exclusive establishment. The younger must be scared out of his mind. So Yoongi gave him a little wink and then placed his finger over his lips to signalize that he would keep it their little secret.

The confusion was written all over the young dancers face and only when he realized what Yoongi had done, did a smile and a blush on his cheeks appear. Jungkook bowed in gratitude, placing the tea can back on the warmer and placed his hands in his lap. The kind man had just turned back to the conversation as they shook hands and agreed on a sum of money that Jungkook didn’t catch because he was still wondering about how that small little wink made him so flustered. He bit his tongue as they all cheered and Taehyung immediately took the moment to attract all the attention to himself, not giving Jungkook a chance to intertwine in a way, so he sat there quietly, watching with a smile on his lips. Although this way, Jungkook could observe closely. 

It was pretty clear that Mr. Ling and his partners were used to Geisha’s around, easily mingling with Taehyung and starting to play games with him while the other two young men seemed pretty new. The taller, slim one looked rather absent again and Jungkook furrowed his brows, wondering where the man’s thoughts were when he noticed Yoongi’s gaze on him again. He startled a little, his mouth opening to say something just to close again in nervousness. Jungkook could feel his heart race, trying to seem collected on the outside and do whatever Geisha would do now: offer their entertainment. He quickly reached into one of his pockets, getting out a stack of cards and held them out for Yoongi to take, while bowing his head. Jungkook didn’t dare to say something, only making a small sound when Yoongi wasn’t taking his offer right away. 

The little maiko was the cutest thing he had ever seen. He knew that he must be blushing even though he couldn't see it through the the makeup because the boy acted so shy and flustered. Apparently he didn't dare to do what the Geisha was doing so Yoongi was surprised when the younger was holding a pack of cards within his reach. He hesitated for a bit too long and the boy made a little sound in reaction that Yoongi had a hard time not to coo over. With a smile he took the cards. "Are you planning on showing me card tricks - or do you have the courage to play against me? If yes, then what's the stake? A kiss?" It was too much fun to flirt with that cutie to not do it.

Jungkook blinked up at the man - again, completely confused and rendered speechless. He shook his head quickly and took the cards away from him again to open up the pack and start sorting them. Jimin would have long scolded Jungkook about not saying anything to their customer as it seemed rude but it felt like he had lost his voice, too nervous to say something. Instead he took Yoongi’s hand to place it on the cards he just sorted and placed his palm on top to push them back to him, to signal that it was his and took another stack to push it over to Namjoon, opening his mouth to ask if he wanted to play, too while it seemed that the other wasn’t very keen on playing but rather observing everyone else. “Do you…,” It was all Jungkook could say, his soft voice breaking off when the sound of the door sliding open again made everyone turn around. 

Looking over his shoulder, Jungkook smiled brightly when he saw Jimin bowing deeply and asking to join them in a sweet tone of voice, leaving everyone to stare at him the moment he blinked up. It was just a small movement, the way his eyes were glistening, the soft smile that played on his lips. Everything just seemed perfectly timed, as if the boy knew exactly how to wrap them all around their fingers in seconds and with one simple glance. “Oh! Jimin!” Mr. Ling called out happily, throwing his hands in the air and then leaned over to Namjoon and Yoongi alike, “He is really rare to book but I did it. Just for this occasion! Isn’t he beautiful?” He laughed, cheering with his drink towards them and spilling some of the liquor in the process.

It was as if someone had dimmed the sound in the room and the moment Jimin stepped in everything snapped into focus. Namjoon stared at him, shamelessly and without even noticing, too lost in his own internal yelling. That was him. The sweet boy on the market, the stunning dancer on stage. And now he was so close that Namjoon could have reached out for him if he had dared. He wore an embroidered silk robe with a long and equally embroidered obi wrapped around his waist. Although it was beautiful Namjoon would have prefered to see more of Jimin like he had on stage because right now he looked like a carefully wrapped gift and it was obvious that the formal wear was more constricting. He was still as elegant as ever when he mingled with them, choosing a place close to the Maiko who visibly relaxed at his presence.

Jimin had ignored Mr. Lings talk completely, who was already busy with Taehyung again who gave it his all to bring back the attention to himself. He had almost chuckled at it, a smile appearing on his lips and it only faltered when Jimin’s gaze fell onto Namjoon’s. For a second, his expression turned surprised, his heart picking up its beat because he recognized him right away. How couldn’t he? The handsome stranger’s face had been stuck in his mind from the day he had seen him. Quickly, Jimin put back on his professional demeanor and bowed his head just slightly, “Are you enjoying your tea, sir?” Reaching out for the tea can, Jimin filled his cup back up without tearing off his gaze from Namjoon.

“Even more now that you’re here.” The words were out before Namjoon could think about if it would be impolite or intrusive to voice his thoughts like that and he quickly broke the eye contact in case Jimin would feel uncomfortable. He could feel his ears burn when he thought about how many men must have made unwanted flirtatious comments while talking with Jimin and how the younger must be used to it by now. He coughed a little awkwardly before continuing more put together: “Your performance was amazing by the way. It must be difficult to dance like that in the water and with all the wet clothes clinging to your body.”

Jimin smiled softly, pouring himself some tea as well. “Thank you,” He bit his lip to not talk too much about how much he had been training for it too look like it and how many times he had slipped and fell onto his bottom. Tearoom conversations were never about them but about the visitors. Jungkook’s soft giggle interrupted Jimin and he turned to look at the young maiko, who was playfully slapping Yoongi’s hand away from his stack who was either not understanding the rules of the game or doing it on purpose to make the younger laugh when he made mistakes. “What brings you here to our lovely teahouse,” Jimin turned back around to Namjoon, looking over to Taehyung who was pouring in one drink after another for their visitor whose ears seemed pretty red already. “You haven’t been following me, have you?”

“Business,” He answered, a little embarrassed that Jimin had seen through him right away. Even though he probably meant it as a joke there was some truth behind it considering Namjoon had actually tried to find him before. He decided to find out how Jimin would react if he knew the truth so he gathered all his courage for a confident smile and added, “What if I had? Maybe you bewitched me the very moment I saw you.”

Jimin cocked his head to the side, his hands wrapped around the warm cup and smirked, “Isn’t that what a Geisha is supposed to do?” Jimin couldn’t explain what it was, but it didn’t feel like they were in a tea room filled with people who were playing and loudly chatting. Their own voices were soft, quiet and their gazes were glued on one another. “What kind of business are you working in?” Jimin asked, shifting a little closer to Namjoon.

“We manufacture home decoration and furniture with korean inlay work.” Normally he didn’t like to brag but somehow he wanted to impress the dancer with what he had so he pulled out his special pen and held it out for him to see. “Like this. My partner Yoongi designs them and I make sure that they look as good in the finished product as they do on paper.”

Jimin took the pen from Namjoon, turning it in his hand to look at it more thoroughly. It was beautiful. More beautiful than anything he’d ever seen. An it was just a pen after all. “You should think about expanding in the fashion business,” Jimin smiled brightly at him, reaching for Namjoon’s hand to place the pen back into his palm softly and making sure to touch the other ever so lightly. It seemed natural, but every movement was trained, ever feather light touch or stroke against the customer a way to lure them in further and to Jimin it was second nature. He didn’t need to think about anymore. But still he couldn’t help but notice how soft Namjoon’s hands felt. “It is really beautiful. Just imagine one of the designs on our costumes…,” He looked down at his own robe, “I bet it would look absolutely stunning. I’d buy all of your designs….” Jimin blinked up at the handsome man innocently, “I didn’t catch your name earlier, sir.”

“I’m not sure if the designs would look as nice as embroideries... but maybe I can ask Yoongi to design an obidome for your costume.” His heart beat quick and hard against his ribs. If he really planned on doing this then he would need to come back to give it to Jimin - and see him again. The touch of the younger’s hand was soft but electrifying and Namjoon wished that he could take his hand for real. He swallowed down his answer which would have been ‘you already look stunning enough’ to not be creepy. “My name is Kim Namjoon. And you are?”

“Jimin,” He breathed out, his cheeks dusting in a rose color although there was nothing to be embarrassed about. It still felt way too intimate in a way. “Please don’t go out of your way for me.” He bowed his head softly, “Just being able to see your designs like this was already enough. I hope I can come by and buy something beautiful from you. I’m not out in the city very often but I would love to see your bigger designs one day.” His eyes lit up, sparkling in the dimmed light. Jimin would never earn enough money to do so, but just the single thought about owning something so beautifully made him dream. “So, you’re not just handsome but also smart and talented when it comes to business.” Jimin reached for the snacks, leaning over Namjoon a little before offering him some. “Your wife must be very proud.”

They both knew that buying something from him was out of the question for Jimin or else he wouldn’t be a geisha in a tea house but a tea house owner himself if it was the love for the old arts and traditions that kept him there and not his fate that had brought him into this at a young age. You didn’t decide to become a geisha. You either did it for family duty or money and survival. But right now they both pretended so Namjoon just nodded and smiled, the idea of asking Yoongi to design a little gift anchored in his mind. He laughed when Jimin started to flirt with him, playing along. “Oh, yes, if I had a wife I am sure she would be so proud of her amazing husband,” He gentle shook his head, chuckling before confessing a bit more seriously, “...that’s the problem with a booming business. If it goes really well you don’t have the time for a family and if it doesn’t - then you don’t have the money for one.”

Jimin placed his hand on Namjoon’s thigh softly in a sweet gesture, “That’s just an excuse. If it’s love then believe me, you’ll make the time and effort. And if your partner isn’t appreciating the work you put in, the passion you have for your business then maybe they aren’t the right one.” He nodded determinately when in reality Jimin knew nothing about love, but just the stories from books and what others told him. 

Jungkook’s eyes widened when he saw Jimin and the customer so close together. Other than him Jimin could be a bit more bold and touch them but still he hadn’t seen Jimin act so intimately with a stranger before. But there was no way that he knew that man, Jungkook was sure that Jimin would have told him if they were serving friends tonight. He almost missed Yoongi’s turn and only reacted when the other asked him if he was giving up already. “No, I’m not but.. I have to make sure that Jimin is on time for his next appointment which means that sadly I’ll have to leave soon.” He bowed politely and to his own surprise there was real regret this time. 

“I see.” Yoongi nodded and collected the cards. “I hope you’ll give me the opportunity to play with you again to find out who the winner is. If I win I’m allowed to kiss you and if you win it’ll be the other way round, right?” He winked again as he gave the cards back to where they belonged.

“I…I…” Jungkook gulped heavily, the nervousness right back the moment his customer was talking about kissing him – again. “You’re not allowed to touch me, Sir.” Jungkook added quietly, taking the cards from him and putting them back in his pocket. Averting his gaze, Jungkook was playing with the hem of his belt. “It would be a pleasure nonetheless to play again and welcome you back into our establishment,” It felt a little off to say his usual goodbyes when he really wanted to tell Yoongi to come back and maybe even ask for him, even though he wasn’t technically allowed to be booked, yet. 

In contrast to Namjoon, Yoongi knew the rules though therefore he asked right away and without missing a beat, “Do you normally accompany Taehyung or Jimin or do you switch?” Because next time he visited he wanted to make sure that he was able to find Jungkook again without embarrassing the younger and ask for him directly when he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Jimin,” Jungkook nodded over to the Geisha as an answer, “He trains me and supervises me and therefore I help him. You can find me wherever he is.” The words came out of his mouth faster than he could take them back, biting his lip and smudging the red lipstick in the process just a little. He bowed his head again, hiding his cheeks with it that were blushing red right now. 

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to ask for him then.” The boy’s eagerness was utterly cute and Yoongi was happy that the Maiko had told him just like that because it meant that he really was okay with seeing him again or else he would have just needed to lie and tell him that it changed from time to time or that he didn’t have a regular supervisor at all and he would have had to leave it at that as you could randomly book geishas if you wanted and had the money but you could never request who was accompanying them.

Jungkook hurriedly gathered the seam of his long costume and went over to Jimin, watching every step as to not fall over his feet or one of the tea pots. When he reached the two men he quickly kneeled back down and bowed his head. “Jimin? Sir? I’m so very sorry that I have to interrupt you so unpleasantly it’s … the time.” He still couldn’t talk as smoothly and perfectly like Jimin and he often laid awake at night wondering why he couldn’t just relax instead of making mistakes.

Jimin startled a little when Jungkook plopped down beside him, a hand on the youngers thigh making him lose his stiff posture. “I apologize for my short visit,” He addressed Namjoon with a sad smile, that was far more genuine that he’d like to admit in that very moment. “I am unfortunately awaited somewhere else right now so I need to leave but Taehyung will stay here with you, so don’t worry. You’ll be in good hands.” Jimin bowed his head as well and with being so close to Namjoon before he could take in his cologne, the sweet musky smell that was the handsome stranger - just like he remembered it from the market when he stood so close by him. Jimin nodded towards Jungkook to get up, taking his own costume to lift it up just enough to get up comfortably, when a hand wrapped around his wrist kept him in his place. He froze completely, his eyes widened for a moment while Jimin stared back right into Namjoon’s eyes. His heart was threatening to jump right out of his chest. There was a hint of fear mixing with the excitement that rushed through his veins. Just as much as a maiko, Jimin wasn’t allowed to get touched without asking first, especially not pulling or holding him in place in any kind of way. He licked his lips nervously, his breath coming in short, soft pants and Jimin wasn’t so sure if it was because of how tight his belt was wrapped around his waist or just because of the fact that Namjoon was holding him like this right now. 

Namjoon had acted out of instinct and so quickly that he was surprised by his own courage. Jimin looked at him, wide eyed and real, all pretense fallen away because of the shock. He looked younger like this, vulnerability shining through were there had been nothing but confidence before. Namjoon immediately loosened his grip because the last thing he wanted to do was to startle Jimin or get an official reprimand of the tea house for breaking their rules (also the little Maiko looked like he was ready to fight him if he didn’t let go of Jimin, all shyness gone in his fierce sense of loyalty). 

“My apologies.” He let his hand slide off of Jimin’s arm, caressing the inside of the younger’s wrist with a feather light touch of his fingertips. “I didn’t mean to be harsh. I just really want to see you again and... I was afraid you’d be out of the room before I could ask for your for permission to do so. Would you please forgive me my inconsiderate and intrusive act and allow me a chance to proof that I can be a pleasant conversational partner instead? I promise that you won’t regret it.”

A shiver ran down Jimin’s spine when Namjoon’s fingertips soothed along his skin touching him so delicately, so softly as if he was breakable and only needed to be handled with care. Jimin’s eyes were still wide, but he listened attentively. His heart skipped a beat when Namjoon just simply asked for permission - which he really didn't have to. Anyone who was allowed to come back, was allowed to ask for any Geisha. It was a simple act of kindness from Namjoon to ask if Jimin wanted to see him again, too. Jimin never had any visitor to be so considerate and ask what he wanted and it rendered him speechless for a moment. Letting his hand brush along Namjoon’s fingertips, Jimin nodded softly. “I accept your apologies,” He whispered and let go off Namjoon, “I hope to see you again, too.” With a smile and a racing heartbeat, Jimin got up and placed a hand on Jungkook’s back to push the younger out of the room with him. He stole one last glance at Namjoon, before he slid the door close. 

“Have you ever seen such a beautiful boy?” Yoongi hummed, leaning against Namjoon. He was sure he could still hear Jungkook’s giggle in the back of his mind. “No, never.” Namjoon sighed, completely mesmerized - and failing to notice that they were talking about two different boys. 

He straightened a little before addressing Yoongi again, “I want you to do me a favour.” Startled, Yoongi nodded without his usual teasing about how he needed to think about it and wanted something in return “I’d like you to tell me all those tea house rules you know and... and maybe you could include an obidome design next time you’re drawing.” 

Yoongi was silent for a moment - and then broke into laughter, “Damn, those boys really got you this time, hm? If I had known all it would take to convince you that tea house visits can be pleasurably would be a reservation at a high class one I would have done that years ago.” He was still chuckling, completely surprised by that sudden development. “So.. will you do it?” Namjoon acted almost shy in his request now. 

“Sure. Whatever makes you happy, Nams!” Namjoon carefully overlooked Yoongi's wink at him.

…

“Stop pouting, Jungkookie,” Jimin chuckled as they hurried down the hallway and back to the powder rooms and where they usual got ready for visitors. “I’ve never seen you pout before. I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer I will ask Taehyung to share the tip he gets, okay? I’ll give you my share of it, too.” The geisha patted his shoulder softly, thinking that Jungkook was mad that he didn’t get his usual tip which were always important to them, to pay of their debts and buy themselves little things. Especially for a maiko, who always just got less than a geisha’s tip it was necessary. “Kook, would you mind loosening my belt a little?” Jimin was panting when they finally could close the door behind them to freshen up, “I can’t dance like this.”

Jungkook kept it to himself why he hadn't been ready to leave yet but he was still a little embarrassed that he had liked a random man so much. While he loosened Jimin’s belt his tongue also came a little lose and he couldn’t help wondering and asking, “Do you know who they were? I’ve never seen them before but Tae acted like he knew them. Also... you weren’t there in the beginning so.. I spilled some tea? On one of them? And they didn’t yell at me.” He was mumbling the last sentences so shyly that Jimin could barely understand him and when he wanted to turn around in surprised Kook kept a hold of his belt and kept hiding behind his back. “Do you think that means he likes me? Or does he just not care about spilled tea?” 

Jimin held onto the table while Jungkook was keeping his belt so tightly in his hold that he couldn’t turn around, but he still tried to look over his shoulder. “You spilled tea?” His voice sounded surprised, “You never spill something, Kookie. You can be lucky they didn’t say anything...maybe he did, yeah. Anyone would be a fool not to like you.” When Jungkook was finally done, Jimin took a deep breath and sighed. “Mr. Ling is a regular visitor whenever he is in our city. He’s a businessman from Japan. Very wealthy. And he likes to bring new guests to the house. But I didn’t know the others. Not really.” The geisha began to explain before he touched up his make-up a little, mumbling under his breath, “I just saw him at the market once. That’s all.”

Jungkook had ears like a lynx though. “Him? Who’s him? The guy you were talking about? The lanky one? The one who held you?” He got excited at the prospect of Jimin being interested in one of their customers. Jimin hadn’t even shown interest in the ones who had proposed to him until now. As Jimin was a geisha he was allowed to receive marriage requests and he had already gotten some but Hoseok had been refusing them all. Jungkook wasn’t allowed to ask but as much as he knew Jimin hadn’t asked why either and he found it a strange thing to not even weigh his options. Though of course he was really relieved that Jimin didn’t leave him alone here. He felt like he wouldn’t survive for even a week without Jimin. Especially with his mizuage within reach…

Jimin hummed in response, blushing slightly, “Yeah. Him. He followed me on the market, and I thought of him as handsome - that’s all. I didn’t think I would see him again.” He turned to look at Jungkook with a smile and reached for the younger’s hand to pull him closer. “You know that’s how we suppose to be like, right? One single glance and make a man fall for you?” Cupping Jungkook’s cheeks softly, Jimin looked at him thoroughly. “We are the perfect illusion, the forbidden fruit. I told you I’m good at that.” He chuckled, sounding a little off, even to himself. Quickly, Jimin cleared his throat and gave himself a quick glance in the mirror. “Will you sing while I dance?” He changed the topic easily, even though knowing his maiko, Jungkook wouldn’t let go and lightly pushed the younger out of the room with him to get to the next tea room, “It’s more fun when you play while I dance.”

“Of course I will.” Something stirred inside of him and the sadness in Jimin’s smile had hit him straight into the middle of his heart. Jimin only very rarely let it shine through that he could feel sad or lonely or lost and Jungkook knew that this man must reach way more in Jimin than just his interest if it evoked such a response. He didn’t push further though afraid of hurting Jimin further. The older was always so strong for him, the shoulder he could lean on, the person he could come to at night. He wanted to give Jimin back what he so gratefully received but he couldn’t. He knew that Jimin would never let his guard down in front of him in fear of pulling the ground from under both their feets. They relied on each other and their stable little bubble they had created. 

Who knew what was needed to make it burst.

A/N: Another story is about to begin... who is ready? Yay! I’m so happy to share this story today and so excited to see what you guys think of it!!! What do you think will happen? ♡♡♡ Oh and this story will be updated every sunday!

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[myheroaizawashota]

Ah, I got so excited to see you reopen requests! I really like your writing! I was wondering if an Aizawa x Reader with Eri (possibly also Shinsou) would be okay? Like it’s Eri’s first time in a large mall, and she just wants to see everything with her tiny new family. I have a hard time looking for stuff involving this precious bean, and she needs more love! Thank you again, and keep up the great work!

[oh my god I live for a good dadzawa moment!!! I haven’t done anything like this before so I’m super excited to work on this one! I’m swooning just thinking about writing it ahh!!! Hopefully it turns out well and you like it! Sorry it’s taken awhile to get this out! I really did love writing this one!]

Never in your life did you imagine that Shouta Aizawa would be wandering around a congested mall filled to the brim with teenagers and misbehaving children, yet here he was. While his lips held the same level of disinterest they always did, his eyes seemed a little kinder as the newest addition to your little family sat perched up on his hip, her little arms locked securely around his neck. It was a sight to see. The typically stone cold and chillingly distanced teacher, known for his harsh and unconventionally cruel educational philosophies, looked like the softest of men carrying around the bright eyed six year old. At first she seemed a bit timid, curling herself closer to her father’s shoulder, though with the more children she saw laughing and smiling, the more she herself began to loosen up. You watched her in amazement, lips began to pull into a grin, as the small girl gently grabbed at Aizawa’s face, pressing her palms to either sides of his face, squishing his cheeks together. “Can we go in there?! Look is’ so cool...please can we go please?”

You couldn’t help but snicker at you’re husbands current predicament, he patiently trying to wriggle his way free from the small child’s grip. For someone so tiny, god was she a power house of strength. Hiking the brightly dressed girl up higher on his hip, he raises a brow in protest. “In there? No. Mommy can take you.” He huffed out eyeing down the overly loud store filled with girls similar to Eri’s age running in and out, screaming like little gremlins as they begged and greedily pleaded for their parents to buy the them more and more items.

In all honesty you were fully expecting to hear a no pass your lovers lip. While the small white haired devil had a way with your husbands heart strings, she often getting him to fold into all of her requests, you knew there was no way Shouta Aizawa was going to step foot in a store like that. Aside from the fact it was two of his least favorite things, loud and overpopulated, his deep hatred for shopping was probably the main reason he denied the kid her request. You were shocked enough that by some grace of god Shouta even agreed to come to the mall today, asking for a second miracles in one day would be a stretch.

Pulling her bottom lip firmly over the top, the small child gave a whimper, her eyes filling with fake tears as she gazed miserably up at you’re husband. “I don’t want to go with her. I want to go with you!” She cried. Releasing her arms from Aizawa’s neck, Eri let her arms hug pathetically around her chest as she pouted in rebellion to the others denial.

You knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the edges of your lips. This child, she was good. Watching in anticipation, both yours and the girls eyes sat waiting for Shouta’s response. Though you, more so than the child, received a warning glare. You couldn’t deny it, you deserved that look, after all you were doing nothing but feeding into the disrespectful behavior the other was portraying. With a soft sigh you held your arms out, fingers clenching and unclenching as you motioned for the other to pass the girl your way. “I don’t think you’re winning this one sweet pea, I think if you wanna go in there it’s gonna have to be with me”

Relieved you were finally working with, not against him, Shouta transfered the fussing ball of disappointment and crocodile tears your way. “I’ll compromise, if you stop acting so immaturely.” Playing along, Eri let her small ear press against your shoulder, hands gripping at your shirt as she buried half her face into your shoulder with a sniffle, waiting for the other to continue. “I refuse to go in...but I will stand outside the store while you two shop. Will that work?” When has this become his life? Aizawa couldn’t believe it. Here he was negotiating with a six year old over something as ridiculous as an accessory store in the mall. This is what girls were like? While Shinsou was no cake walk, some days he’d much rather deal with the temperament of the teenage boy over the grade schoolers sass and attitude. Arms folding sternly over his chest, he rose a brow, eyes locking onto the small child’s. “Well?”

Lulling over her options, the youngen twisted to get out of your arms. Afraid she’d hurt herself, you set her down, watching as her tiny hand slid into his, she giving it a gently shake before nodding her head. Your heart melted in that moment as you watched the corners of Shouta’s lips twitch ever so gently up before flattening out, almost as if nothing even happened. Following behind the two, you watched as your non bilogical daughter dragged the love of your life along, he maintaining his half of the deal and stopping right outside the doors of the pastel purple store. “You have fifteen minutes”

You couldn’t tell if the time limit was for you or for Eri, but regardless you gave a laugh as your palm cupped the others cheek. Lightly you let your finger tips pat the scruffed area, you placing a kiss to the outer corners of his lips. “You won’t even know we’re gone.”

Scrunching her nose Eri looked away she wiggling her body in excitement. “Stop kissing and lets gooooooooo!!”

Not even the stone wall of emotions that was your husband could keep a straight face through that, you grabbing the kids hand dragging her along into the store. “Alright alright! My attentions all yours little sister, let’s go exploring!”

The two of you wandered the seemingly small store, for well over your aloted fifteen minutes. It was growing apparent to Aizawa the two of you were doing more than just “looking” around the store. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to keep his patience, he only imagining what the two of you would be walking out of the store with. To his amazement, you two returned only twenty minutes over his original time limit, just one average sized bag in each of your hands. With a tested glare, his eyes met yours, you shrugging your shoulders as you mouthed an apology his way. You couldn’t help yourself, it wasn’t so often you saw the typically timid and relcused child so happy. Aizawa couldn’t remain mad though, the instant the small typically quiet child raced her way over to him beaming from ear to ear, he could understand how you’d let yourself splurge just a little on the child. Kneeling down to her level, he watched as she slapped the bag into his knee, lips exposing the cutest full smile as she shoved her hands in the bag recklessly. “Look what I got!” She squealed retrieving a black studded set of cat ears from the bag, she sloppily setting them on her father’s head, he cringing as she jabbed the edges of them into the tender parts of his head located behind his ears. He knew it was unintentional but still, it hurt.

Deciding to help her along, he let his hands take hold of the wire head piece, humming as he let his eyes roll up in an attempt to glance at them. “Are they for me?”

Almost offended by the question the girl, god bless her, fired back with the same attitude you often displayed “well duh! Mommy got her own, and so did I! We even got a pair for Shinsou!”

Bowing his head in attempt to hide a stifled chuckle, he took the bag from Eris hands, shaking his head softly. If you’d ever asked the aloof and typically stoic pro hero if he imagined his life to be anything like this, he wouldn’t have even acknowledged the idea. While the thought that his life would go something like this never occurred to him, he was more than happy things did turn out this way. After being blessed with you, he didn’t think he’d be so lucky as to be blessed not once, but twice more in his life. With his lips pressing tightly together as he pushed himself back to his feet, he let a hand drop for the girl to grab onto, she tightly taking a hold of it. “That was thoughtful of you. Though why am I the only one wearing my ears? I feel out of place.”

Smiling, Eris free hand tugged at your side, those ruby eyes of hers sparkling in a way you’d never seen before. It melted your heart. Humming you looked down her way. “Whats up baby girl?”

“I want my ears so daddy doesn’t feel so alone! And you have to wear yours too!!!” She exclaimed all but jumping and tugging on both your shirt and Shouta’s hand as she did so.

Laughing, you placed a palm on the top of her head steadying her body as you shuffled through the bag of toys and accessories, detagging and setting the holographic blue cat ears on her head. “See would you look at that! I Told you these ones would match your outfit perfectly.”

The smile you received in return was everything you needed in this world. You never thought you could love a child that wasn’t your own this much, but here you were head over heels for this little girl. You knew both you and your husband would do anything to make this little girl happy. While she wasn’t born from the fruits of your marriage, you both knew she was right were she belong in this family. Your family. Leaning over you kissed the top of her head, hand stealing hers up into your own. Had anyone told you that you’d be the mother to two outcasted children, you’d never believe them, but you were happy with the little make shift family you and Shouta has built together. Maybe one day you two would consider growing it more, but for now things were perfect as they were and you wouldn’t change a thing.

BONUS:

[I feel Shinsou wouldn’t have wanted to go to the mall with the family. However!!!! I do think Eri giving him the cat ears when she gets home is absolutely precious so hers a little dribble]

Shinsou’s eye gave a slight twitch as his adopted sibling struggled to stretch her arms high enough over the others head, she desperate to get the set of cat ears she’d bought on his body. Fussing, she jumped repeatedly in an attempt to slip them onto the others head, “Shinsoooou put them on!! I bought them especially for you! You have to wear them” she pouted.

Annoyed by the smaller girls antics, he gently held her at an arms length, sighing in frustration as his eyes flickered between yours and Aizawa’s, the look on his face practically screaming ‘seriously? I have to do this?’. Humming Shouta made his way lazily over to the youngest of the two kids. Lifting her up under his arm almost effortlessly, the father of two, teacher of twenty sighed as he hauled the small girl away “we’ve talked about respecting other people’s boundaries, if Shinsou doesn’t want to wear them, he doesn’t have to.”

Tears welding in the small girls eyes, she looked back at Shinsou, the head band falling from her finger tips in defeat. She knew it was stupid, but she wanted the family to feel connected, even if it was with just cat ears. Tears falling as she cried, she rubbed her wrist roughly against her eyes “I was only trying to help!”

Aizawa sighed and repositioned the now crying girl onto his hip kissing her forehead as he carried her off into the other room. “stop crying, it’s okay. No body’s upset with you. Just take a deep breath and relax.” He didn’t want her tears to escalate to a point he’d have to deploy his quirk on the girl. His eyes were already tired as he was exhausted from the days activities, the last thing he wanted was to have to use his quirk.

Sighing and feeling dirty for making his sister cry, Shinsou scooped up the stupid cat ears. The things he did for this kid, it was unreal. Slipping them onto his head, he slowly made his way after the others. “Eri....thank you for the gift...i appreciate it” he sighed hand rubbing through the purple strands of hair resting at the base of his neck. “I’m sorry i was being a jerk....it’s just been a long day and i didn’t want to be climbed all over alright? I should have said something.”

Clutching her arms tightly around Shouta’s neck, she pressed her cheek into her father’s shoulder sighing. “Okay...I’m sorry i climbed on you Shinsou...i hope your night gets better...I’ll see you tomorrow morning...I wish you were at the mall with us today. I missed you. Maybe then you’re day would have been much much better.”

A smile tickled the corners of the teenagers lips, he nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah maybe....” She could be annoying, but he loved the kid. He knew she meant well after all.

[bubmyg]

dinner and a photo booth - ksj

pairing: seokjin x reader

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol!au

word count: 3,227

summary: you’re volunteering at a children’s carnival and no one is using the photo booth despite the man overseeing it’s best efforts so now you’re crammed in this tiny area with said man or why do all these little kids think I’m dating “Mr. Jinnie”?

a/n: part 6 of to lovers! the rest of the series is linked on my masterlist :-) only one part to go ladies jlajsdlfj

The photo booth was, well, a photo booth, a tiny grey box with a black curtain to enter and a tiny slot that printed the pictures afterwards. Someone had plastered heart stickers to every inch, ones that looked straight from a children’s coloring book and would likely have to be peeled individually by an unlucky staff member before the device was sent back to it’s company. A woven basket sat outside the entrance, loaded with feather boas, over sized sunglasses, glittering heart and mustache decals hot glued to dowel rods. There was a makeshift sign, much like the one in front of your card table, that advertised the price of two tickets for a roll of four pictures of their liking.

You’d been busy prying pipe cleaner hearts off the red and pink painted soda bottles of your ring toss game, dishing out handfuls of candy in between, to really notice the patronship of the photo booth adjacent to your stand. Yet, every time you got a breath in the line of starry eyed children to survey the gymnasium, the volunteer assigned to that particular activity seemed to be begging for someone to hand him two flimsy pieces of paper.

“It’s so much fun, I promise,” He was telling a tiny girl with two, dark pigtails. To prove his point, he smacked one of the mustache decals over his upper lip, letting the glittering red shift with his tilting head, “See?”

She giggled but she didn’t take the bait, letting her friend drag her off by means of clasped chubby fingers.

You couldn’t help but do the same as the student, covering your mouth with the back of your wrist as you watched pure, unadulterated outrage meet the disappearance of his eyebrows into black fringe, the comical widen of his irises, the perfect circle his plump lips made.

You watched his outrage morph into delight before your stuttering gaze and you only realized he was staring directly at you when he called loudly, “Do you want to take a picture?—” His laughter wheezed when you startled, shoulders shrugging, palms open, “—Only two tickets. Might make an exception for a staff member though.”

“Not right now,” You recovered, soft laughter shaking your shoulders, “Maybe later though!”

He continued to grin at you, dropping his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, “Just tell them you need to see Seokjin at the photo booth when you’re ready.”

You offered a thumbs up, “Y/N from the ring toss booth might take you up on that offer.”

“Uhm, miss…” You jumped at the innocent pat of a hand on your wrist, finding the innocent eyes of two young boys looking at you. “...could we have our prize? Please?”

Your frantic dish of heart shaped, chocolate candies was only heightened by what you quickly realized to be Seokjin’s hearty laughter in the distance, entirely endeared by you.

The second hour of your shift picked up in traffic and your lapses in time between groups of doe eyed children dwindled to none until you were left helping a constant line of students. There’d been minimal panic moments, just a gentle apology at the awaiting girl and her mother when you needed to refill your treat jar and a dash away to a supply closet in the far corner of the gym to retrieve new pipe cleaners to replace a broken heart ring.

You stole glances at the photo booth keeper, Seokjin, while groups of children took turns at your game. He’d added accessories to his paste on mustache, a velvet top hat with a purple and red feather sticking out from it jammed over black pleats of hair, a pink boa dramatically draped into the crook of his elbows, a giant heart taped to the center of his chest.

He seemed to have a singular taker through the entire an hour, a couple, parents, the man taking the hat off of Seokjin’s head with a wink as his wife buried her face into a red boa. Disappointment etched his features as he took their tickets, ones to get their children out of the gym quicker rather than later, nose wrinkled at the bridge as he explained the process to deaf ears of two middle aged adults already clambering inside the photo booth.

Seokjin caught you staring at him when he turned to deposit the tickets into a clear plastic tub, mouth joining the bridge of his nose in annoyance. You just shook your head, pouting your bottom lip in faux sympathy.  

If you weren’t pressing candy into an awaiting palm, you would have offered the melody of the world’s smallest violin.

The third hour brought another broken heart ring but it didn’t matter much as the bulk of the children had wandered over to the inflatable obstacle courses that now occupied an entire half of the gymnasium. You sent a little girl, the same one who Seokjin had tried to coax into wearing a sequins covered mustache, away with extra candy, only to observe the empty walkway in front of you with a sigh.

You absently twirled at the wires of purple pipe cleaners, braiding three wires together to make one, superior ring that surely wouldn’t break for the remaining hour of your four hour shift. Your hip shifted until you were half perched on top of the plastic wrap that coated the tables, pastel pink and coated in hearts, three dollars a roll from the grocery store down the street.

The purple fur curled together but was harder to bend into shape, thus the ricochet of the material off the crook of your index finger to scrape the pointed ends of metal directly underneath your fingernail. You cursed at the feeling, thigh sliding off the table as you instead used your palms to crunch at the thin material.

A deep tut startled you, the pipe cleaners in your grasp bending directly in half as you turned for the source. Seokjin only clicked his tongue again, palms gripping the far end of the table as he leaned closer.

“Swearing and slacking off on the job?” His lips smacked together in a soft C shape, shaking his head dramatically, “Can’t believe you, miss.”

“You didn’t hear anything,” You countered, pointing the bouncing end of the pipe cleaners in hand at Seokjin, “Did I miss a child or something?”

“No—” His palm came down a top the table, two pink pieces of paper fanning out from the tips of his fingers, “—you’re ignoring me, a waiting customer.”

You regarded him under raised eyebrows as you wordlessly tossed the tickets aside into a basket, handing over the singular, not mangled heart. “Well then I’m very sorry sir. Please proceed.”

Seokjin rolled the heart in his grasp, running a pinched index finger and thumb up and down the soft surface, “How do I win and what do I win?”

“One piece of candy—” You gestured vaguely to the front of the pyramid of bottles, “—two—” the middle, ones painted a different color, “—and three. Or…” You trailed off, waving a flat palm around the rest of your work station, “...one piece of candy. If I’m feeling generous. Five tries at it.”

He hummed, crossing tight arms across his chest, the heart in his fingers spinning circles as he fiddled with it, “Can I propose an alternate prize?”

“Go for it.”

He stretched a long index finger until it prodded at the neck of the far bottle in the right corner. “If I can get it on that one on the first try, you have to come join me in the photo booth for a round of pictures.”

“I’ll take those odds.”

A smug wiggle met Seokjin’s eyebrows as he shoved himself off of the table. He coughed once into a curled fist, shaking out his wide wingspan, crouching as if on the blocks before a track meet in front of you. Shuffle steps were taken, adjusting his position, wrist taking a few practice flicks at the table just beyond the point of his oddly shaped ring.

The toss landed just as you assumed it would, sadly and short, barely catching the edge of the table before the weight of the two humps of the height sent it toppling to the wooden floor below.

His voice dropped as he crouched to retrieve the ring, “Best two out of three?”

“You can if you like or—” You wiggled your fingers for Seokjin to place the ring into, “—I’ll just give you the prize.”

His disappointment went through three stages of grief before it morphed into shining happiness again, teeth appearing as the tiniest of endearing wheezes left his throat, “Oh. Okay. Yeah?”

“I told you I was going to come over there, anyway,” You teased.

“I know but…” Seokjin shrugged, “You hadn’t came over yet.”

“Yes because some of us have been busy.”

As if on cue, a tiny boy wielding a heart shaped lollipop bounded up to the edge of the table, eyes smiling at you before his lips did and positively melting your actual heart. You reached across the table, a gentle hand on Seokjin’s waist as you pushed him to the side to greet the child, handing him his materials and explaining the point system with a tender tone.

Seokjin watched on in silence through the fourth toss the little boy took, leaning close enough only to question, “Would you like to take some pictures in the photo booth? We have some really wacky props. I might even let you keep one of the hats…”

You opened your mouth to scold the man but the little boy beat you to it, turning with two hands on his hips, sticky lollipop brushing bright red across the side of his white t-shirt but the tiny individual took no mind to it.

“Mr. Jinnie, no one wants to come to your photo booth because it’s not cool.”

The little boy turned, tossing the ring faithfully and retrieving his prize with little thought as he scampered off into the depths of the gymnasium. Your smiling eyes met Seokjin’s sulking ones.

“Mr. Jinnie isn’t as cool as he thinks, huh?”

“I volunteer at this elementary school during the week,” He mumbled it so lowly, you had to crane your neck to even catch the last set of syllables he uttered for sure, “I told everyone I’d have the best, coolest booth but instead I got assigned to the photo booth.”

“What’s not cool about the photo booth?”

Seokjin was, essentially, whining, “Me, apparently.”

You rolled your eyes, ushering him away with a flick of your wrist. “If it’s any consolation, I think it’s pretty cool. Go over there and try to collect some last minute tickets and I’ll be over once my relief gets here.”

He ignored the flapping of your palm, complaining, “You mean you won’t be here all night? You signed up for a shift?”

“Yes? That’s all my class said we needed—”

“I didn’t even get a choice!”

“Seokjin,” You rounded the side of your table to press on the small of his back, laughing, “Mr. Jinnie. Go back to work. I’ll be over in like a half hour. Promise.”

“Jin,” He took lumbering, waddling steps back across the aisle toward his, still desolate, post even as you cocked a questioning eyebrow at the back of his head. He turned with a half crooked smile, “Call me Jin!”

It was instead another fifteen minutes when you abandoned your post, your relief showing up in the form of Min Yoongi and his pastel pink sweater, a senior in your university class that had offered the volunteer opportunity to you in the first place. He’d dismissed you with a gentle, “I know how ring toss works”, an adorable smile pressing into fluffy cheeks as he unwrapped and plopped one of the chocolate hearts onto his tongue.

He didn’t appear as giddy as you assumed when you approached him, instead stopping you with a flat palm directly in front of your nose before that same thing cupped underneath your chin.

“Tickets, please, miss.”

“I’m your prize,” You stated bluntly, swatting at his wrist, “I am the tickets.”

“Oh,” Seokjin laughed again, high pitched and cute, “Right.”

You placed your hands on your hips, “Are you going to offer me any props? Come on now, I know your numbers have been pretty low but—”

The basket smacked against your chest with a soft thump, feathers and glitter spilling out onto the floor below and effectively staining your shoes for months to come as Seokjin’s dimpled cheeks continued to beam from above you.

“Take your pick miss—” A loud noise of disapproval clucked in his throat when your fingers secured around the top hat with feathers, “—except for the hat. The hat is mine.”

You settled on a heart sticker that you pasted to your cheek, one you kept in place with gentle pressure as you peeled back the curtain to the photo booth and clambered inside the tiny space.

Seokjin was big, all high pitched noises and uncoordinated limbs as he trailed after you, effectively squishing you to the far corner of the tiny bench while his hat dislodged on the roof and tumbled sideways into your lap. You caught it, pivoting to squash it back over his hair with a soft laugh.

“I think I know why no one has wanted to do this,” Seokjin grumbled, “It’s made for an ant.”

“Or we’re just bigger than the target audience which in comparison to us are ants.”

“Okay miss practical—” He nudged you with his elbow, adjusting the brim of the hat over his head, “—are you ready or not?”

You glanced at yourself in the monitor in front of you, the comical aspect not the feathers poking out of the hat much too small for Seokjin’s head or the giant heart half dangling off your skin but the sheer sight of you crunched in the corner while his shoulders seemed to swallow all the available volume left.  

“Born ready, Mr. Jinnie.”

He huffed dramatically, reaching forward to press a button on the screen, eliciting a short countdown across the screen, “It’s Jin.”

The series of four photos were terrible, to put it lightly. Seokjin was still scowling in the first frame from your improper teasing of his name from the students, the second frame his hat had fallen again and thus your mouth was open as you tried to catch it, the third frame captured the aftermath of his shock and your triumphant catch. The fourth and last was the only one you deemed acceptable, catching both of your delighted laughter in each other.

“Another round?” He nudged your shoulder with his, casting the strip of photos aside in his ticket bin, “You’re not quite...in frame.”

You didn’t have the heart to tease the massive width of his stature for being the cause of your shrinking, instead suggesting, “You go in first this time.”

Your plan to squeeze his legs together by sprawling your stature out in the remaining space failed when you ducked inside the curtain to find his arm outstretched, ready to accept the press of your torso against his side. His hand was warm as it skirted across the small of your back, steadying your stumble onto the tiny bench by wrapping around your far hip and squeezing.

Seokjin’s lips were unintentionally at your temple when he turned to address you but it only fueled the warmth that curled into the hammer of your heart.

“Is this okay?”

You quirked an eyebrow, “Depends. Is this okay with you?”

Dimples pressed into his cheeks again, “Absolutely it is.”

“Well—” You settled into his embrace, relaxing into his side and the crook of his arm around the small of your back, “—then yes. This is perfect.”

The four frames caught your embarrassed surprise from Seokjin’s petaled lips at your cheek, first frame the rise of your eyebrows, second from the curl of your palm across your lips while his seemed to spread into a soft smile, third the crinkle of your eyes in a shy grin, and fourth the press of his nose into your cheekbone while your gaze dropped to your fiddling fingers in your lap.

You’d gathered a small crowd when you clambered from the photo booth this time, Seokjin’s fingers swiping the glossy prints after your stature before a pair of tiny, prying eyes could catch on to the contents of the photos. It didn’t matter that he tried to hide it because the shy roll of your shoulders and his flushed cheeks caused one of the little girls to inquire innocently.

“Mr. Jinnie, is that your girlfriend?” She drew out the term in looping syllables of only a childlike playfulness.

“Guys, no, I don’t—”

“But Mr. Jinnie, you’re blushing,” One of the little boys pointed out with a delighted clap of his hands.

“I’m not,” He turned to you with a cocked eyebrow, affirming, “I’m not?”

You shrugged, offering a quiet you are to the tune of the soft giggles of the children that heard you.

“Mr. Jinnie! Mr. Jinnie!” Pigtails was jumping up and down from the behind someone taller than her, a wicked smile on her lips as she cooed, “Did you kiss her?”

“Okay, guys, that’s enough. C’mon, disperse,” His hand was gentle on the small of your back, “Miss Y/N is off her shift and I have uh, to walk her to her car and nevercomebackso—”

“But…” One of the children in the front full on pouted, tears welling in his bright eyes, “We want to take pictures too!”

“Yeah!” Another declared, pointing at the strip still clutched protectively in Seokjin’s hand, “Like you and Miss Y/N did!”

“You guys have to form a nice neat line before we can do that,” Seokjin watched after you with wide eyes as you went about corralling the handful of children into something that vaguely represented a line, “Take turns with each other! You don’t have to go in with someone else if you don’t want to…”

“You’ll stay?” He affirmed when you scampered back to him, glancing over your shoulder as more curious children began to fill into the rapidly growing line, “They seem to think you’re cooler than me.”

You snorted, patting his shoulder, “They should think it because they’re right—” You laughed when his mouth rounded in outrage and he nearly dropped the curtain on pigtails as she dove into the photo booth after her friend, “—yes, I’ll stay, but…”

Seokjin cocked an eyebrow, “But?”

“You owe me dinner after.”

His expression went through another three stages, something like shock mixed with relief and delight, “Absolutely I’ll buy you dinner. Was going to ask you to anyway—”

“Ask Miss Y/N what Mr. Jinnie?” The next child in line beamed up at the two of you, the end of a purple mustache clutched in his palm, “Ask her to be your Valentine?”

The endeared lines of Seokjin’s expression dulled smug in seconds as he cocked his chin at you, “Actually, yes. Will you do me the honor of being my Valentine?”

A few of the children giggled as you rolled your eyes at him, playfully shoving at his stomach.

“Yes, Mr. Jinnie. I’ll be your Valentine.”