#deadly little man.... so handsome.... <- in the tone one would use to talk about a toddler wearing a little suit and tie

[dandyshucks]

i just keep looking at him (the doll) and his little chunky shoes and then go a little bit insane over it all

[sunnyville36]

Mamihlapinatapai {part 1}

See {overview} for more info!

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female Reader

Themes: royal au, medieval au, court intrigue, arranged marriage, original characters, mutual pining, slow burn

Warnings: mentions of death/war, emotionally abusive parents

Rating: Mature

Word count: 4.2k

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Mamihlapinatapai - (noun, Yagán origin) a silent acknowledgement and understanding between two people, who are both wishing or thinking the same thing (and are both unwilling to initiate)

Bond  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

“Good morning, Your Highness,” you called, entering the prince’s room and walking to open the curtains, revealing the cloudless sky behind them.  Of course a beautiful day like today would have to be ruined by the very event you were here to collect Chan for.

Chan’s head peeked out from around the dressing panel, smiling softly as you pressed the shirt he’d clearly been looking for into his hands. “Good morning Y/n.”

“Your father’s in quite the foul mood this morning,” you said, leaving Chan to finish changing as you tidied up his dresser and prepared the many pins and beads bearing the royal crest that would adorn his formal attire for today.

You could hear the scowl in his voice as he grumbled, “Only he could manage to be upset during an event solely orchestrated by him and his insufferable band of so-called advisors.”

You nodded your head, indulging him in his ranting.  Better he get it all out now with only you here to hear than cause a scene in front of the court.  The prince took his responsibilities seriously and hardly ever openly clashed with his father, no matter how much they disagreed.  But this had been an exceedingly upsetting matter for him, and, by extension, you as well.  You’d spent the majority of the last week attempting to keep the peace between him and his father, as well as show your support for your friend as best you could.

Chan stepped out from behind the screen, and you had to stop yourself from doing a double take at the man in front of you.  A far cry from his normal outfit of loose breeches and dirtied, tattered tunics, his cleanly pressed white shirt was tucked neatly into snug fitting black trousers, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim figure.  You were sure he hated the confines of such an ensemble, but you were equally sure he would turn every head in the kingdom during today’s events, and you smiled at having the privilege to see him here first as he struck a nonchalant pose and asked, “So, how do I look?”

“Very handsome,” you replied, stepping up to pin his bright red cloak around his shoulders and set to work attaching the fineries to the outside.

“You do as well.  Look very nice, I mean,” he corrected sheepishly, pose all but forgotten and head tilting forward as a blush formed on his cheeks.

You glanced upward, smoothing his hair that had gotten tousled from his rushed dressing.  “Thank you, Your Highness,” you replied quietly.  You decided to throw in a humorous quip, hoping to lighten his mood as you finished decorating the course, red fabric.  “We couldn’t have the prince’s personal attendant looking like she’d just had a spar with a knight and lost, now could we?”

“Certainly not,” he laughed, then quieted as he continued, “And you’re still wearing the flower.”

You reached your hand absently up to the flower that was perched behind your ear, and you felt his fingertips ghost over yours as he gently pushed your hair to sit behind it.

“Of course, Your Highness.  Is it not our tradition that I wear it until it is completely bare of petals?”

“Mhmm… our tradition,” he hummed, his hand lingering next to your cheek.

“We really must be h-heading out.”  You cringed at the unsteadiness of your voice.  You needed to get out of here, needed to get him out of here.  You straightened the clasps of his cloak and tapped your hands on his chest.

“There.  Now you look like a real prince charming,” you said, forcing a smile to your lips that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

He shook his head as he half chuckled, half grimaced at your words, lips forming into a straight line.  “Then I suppose we must go meet my future wife.”

You Have My Bow  |  Kingdom of Gu, 19 years ago

“Mama, Mama, look what Papa made for me!” you squealed, bounding into your tightly-packed cottage and nearly crashing into your mother’s legs as she stood boiling soup at the stove.

Your father had taken you to the woods that morning, your favorite place to go with him when he had a rare spare moment away from the castle.  You had thought he was taking you for your usual ritual: fishing by the river’s edge in the hopes of catching something to use for dinner.  Instead, when you reached the riverbank, your father knelt down and pulled a tiny child’s bow from his knapsack, small enough to fit in your four-year-old hands.

“I’m going to teach you how to use this bow Y/n.  Not many girls will know how to, but you need to be able to fend for yourself and your mother if anything should ever happen to me.”

“Why would anything happen to you Papa?”

“Well, Papa helps the king to keep our home safe, and there are some people who might want to make it unsafe.”

“Like the Lajorans?  Or the Mirohans?  The ones with the missing princess?!  Or the Sillans?  I heard old man Jerrald talking outside the tavern, and he said Lajorans like to ...”

“Yes, just like those,” your father interrupted your enthusiastic babbling, “though you shouldn’t believe everything old man Jerrald says, alright?”  You nodded as he continued, “The king does everything he can to keep the peace, but sometimes our peoples get into fights.  Really big ones, where people use swords and bows like this.  And I want to make sure that if that ever happens, if one day a fight should come here, that you can keep yourself and your mother safe.  Do you think you could do that for me, Y/n?”

You’d agreed of course, your little body bouncing with excitement as he pulled you in for a hug then took the bow and began to show you the basic principles.  The two of you had spent the rest of the day practicing, and you couldn’t be more excited to show your mother what you’d learned.

“Y/n be careful,” your mother admonished, kneeling down to your height as she gave you a tight squeeze.  “Now let’s see what that father of yours has cooked up for you this time.”

“It’s called a boo!” you all but shouted, whipping the bow out from behind your skirts and drawing back the string in a mock archer’s pose.

“A bow, Y/n, it’s called a bow sweetheart,” came your father’s voice from the doorstep.  He crossed the small space to pull your mother into a tight embrace as he said, “And be careful with that in the house, or your mother will have my head.”  You nodded back at him and he sent you a mischievous wink over her shoulder.

Your mother turned to face him with a wary smile as you started galloping in circles, pretending to ride an imaginary horse.  “Giving our already rambunctious child a deadly weapon, Minhyuk?  You want to get her into trouble, I see.”

“Julietta, you worry too much,” your father whispered, pressing his lips to her temple in a gentle kiss.  “Besides, I’d be more concerned about the trouble she’d be in if she didn’t know how to take care of herself.”

Little did you know that everything you learned that day would soon come crashing into your life, taking many precious things with it when it left.

All That Glitters Is Not Gold  |  Kingdom of Gu, present day

You struggled to keep up as you walked behind Chan, the two of you heading to the throne room where you were sure a very short tempered King Bang would be waiting to reprimand you for your tardiness.  Sure enough, when the guards opened the doors, you saw the king pacing in the small space in front of the raised thones, his head snapping up as he heard your footsteps approach.

“You’re late.  I told you to have him here 20 minutes ago Y/n, did I not?”

“It’s not her fault,” Chan defended.  “Besides, they’re not here yet, are they?”  He gestured around to the otherwise empty hall, save for the usual servants and guards, then slumped into his seat at the right hand of his father’s.

“You would do well to lose that attitude before they do arrive.  I will not have you embarrassing yourself or this court because of your petty feud with me.”  Chan gave a hollow laugh at that, eyes closing to block out the mere presence of his father.

You took your place behind Chan’s throne, hands coming up to rest on the ornately upholstered back.  You liked keeping your hands there; it made you feel like you were supporting Chan in some way, the closest you would ever come to being able to actually hold his hand the way you wanted to right now.

After a few moments, you heard the telltale sound of trumpets and the growing shuffling of a group of approaching footsteps.  Chan straightened in his seat and his father took his place at the head of the room.

The doors opened, and you were greeted by a small party of what appeared to be political ministers and guards, in the middle of whom stood a woman clad in a yellow gown.  She was beautiful, golden hair spun up into a twist and a delicate silver circlet resting above it.  You would know she was a princess from a mile away.

The Gu herald spoke first, gesturing towards the two men seated at the thrones.  “May I present His Majesty, King Bang Geun of the Gu Kingdom and his son, His Royal Highness Bang Christopher Chan, crown prince of the Gu Kingdom.”

The gaggle of people gave a quick bow, then parted to allow the woman through.  She stepped to the front, then dipped into a low curtsey.  “I am Princess Korenna Dormio of Lajor,” she spoke, her high, clear voice ringing in the chamber.  “It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

The king stood up, walking towards Korenna with you and Chan trailing behind.  He took her hand and kissed the top of it, his voice exclaiming in a fake bright tone, “We are honored you could join us in our kingdom!  May I present my son, Christopher.”

Chan stepped forward at that, hand outstretched to take hers.  “I prefer strangers to call me Chan.”

You could feel the icy gaze King Bang was sending to his son, but he pressed on, ever the politician.

“This is Y/n.  She is Chr- err Chan’s personal attendant, and will be at your service during your stay.  Go to her with whatever you may need.”

Korenna eyed you with a curious look, and you knew why.  It was unusual, though not entirely unheard of, for a prince to have a woman as his personal attendant.  Not only did they complete duties for him in the domestic sphere, but they also served a professional purpose, a sort of squire, scheduler, and strategist all in one, roles typically reserved for men.  The unique circumstances surrounding the time of your’s and Chan’s upbringing had made having you as his attendant a logical choice, but you could understand her concern about the man she was supposed to marry spending most of his time in the company of a woman she knew nothing about.

You knelt into a curtsey, head leaning forward as you heard Korenna’s voice.  “A pleasure to meet you Y/n.”

“You as well, Your Grace,” you responded.  Glancing up, you saw that Chan was not even looking in her direction, gaze apparently trained on a fascinating branch just outside the rightmost window.  Well this was off to a wonderful start.

“Very well,” King Bang said tentatively, “I will let you two become acquainted.  Y/n, I believe you were given their itinerary for the day?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

As the king made his way to mingle with the rest of Korenna’s visiting party, Chan turned to the both of you, eyes almost glaring at the princess.

“I don’t want to be here, and I doubt you do either, so let’s just get all of this shit over with so we can go back to our normal lives.”  With that, he stalked towards the door, leaving you and a highly affronted Korenna to follow in his wake.

***

The next few hours only got worse.

The pair were thrust immediately into making a multitude of decisions about the wedding ceremony: What kind of flatware did they want?  Which cakes were their favorite?  How should the shrubbery around the edge of the garden be trimmed?  And all the while you stood between them, relaying information to the various servants charged with these tasks and corralling the two royals between each of their stops.

Your latest one was with the palace groundskeeper, to determine what flowers would adorn the wedding canopy.

“We can always have tulips brought in from the highlands, Your Grace.”

“Tulips are fine, but I was thinking something more along the lines of white roses or lilies.”

Chan’s annoyed huff at her words was impossible to miss.

“Can you at least try to give some input about this?”

“We’ve barely met and they have us making all these asinine decisions about something weeks away!  What do you even care what I have to say about flowers anyway?!”

“I don’t want to fight with you about this.”

“Isn’t that what your people are good at?!  Picking a fight with someone who never asked to be involved in the first place?”

You hated seeing Chan like this.  His normally kind, generous, and thoughtful demeanor, that you knew to be his real self, not just some facade put on to impress the nobles or win ladies’ affections, was being replaced by this antagonistic attitude, intent on ruining any chance of finding common ground with this woman.  You knew he was doing it to protect himself, both from his father’s antics and from his own fear of being open, of letting someone in and risking actually wanting to keep them there.  But under different circumstances, you knew he would never want to be seen treating anyone like he was right now, let alone a princess from another powerful kingdom.  And she didn’t seem to be so bad; if she felt the same malice as he felt towards her, she at least did a better job of hiding it.  You needed to stop him before he did something you knew he would regret.

“Your Highness, I believe Prince Minho wanted to brief you on the latest border patrol, seeing as he is back in the city for the time being.  Why don’t you meet with him while I escort Her Grace to the ladies afternoon tea?”

“A wonderful idea,” Chan muttered unenthusiastically and began walking towards the closest castle door as you guided the princess in the opposite direction.  You looked back and locked eyes with him, reading the expression of thanks on his face.

When you were out of earshot from Chan, Korenna turned to you almost immediately and asked, “Is he always this standoffish?”

You were unsure how to answer that question, wanting to make it clear he wasn’t always like this without getting her hopes up that he would change his attitude about this particular situation any time soon.

“His Highness is not especially fond of this arrangement.  It has nothing to do with you personally, Your Grace.”

“Well I am also not especially fond of this arrangement, but it’s the arrangement we have at present and at least I’m attempting to be civil towards him.”

“Perhaps you should tell him of your similar feelings, to establish some common ground?”

Korenna became agitated at that suggestion, visibly tensing as she said, “And risk my father finding out I feel that way.  Absolutely not.”

You understood that apprehension, that fear.  Stories of her father, King Eunther, had spread often throughout your kingdom, and from what you heard, you knew he was not someone you wanted to cross.

You walked in silence for the rest of the way, until you rounded the corner into the courtyard where you could hear ladies’ voices and the gentle clinking of fine china.  Korenna turned to you, placing her hand on your arm.

“You and him seem to be… close.  Maybe you could talk to him, ask him to try to appear like he doesn’t despise me and everything I do or say?”

You had a feeling that would only make it worse, his oldest friend asking him to grin and bear it for the “good of the kingdom.”  You also knew his political protest against his father might not be the only reason for his general disdain of everything that had happened the past week.  But Korenna seemed like she was genuinely trying to put in some effort, and you couldn’t bring yourself to outright deny her request.

“I will try, Your Grace.”

As you left Korenna in the garden, you reached up to feel for the flower by your ear, and found that all the remaining petals had fallen off.

Arrangements  |  Kingdom of Gu, 1 week ago

“Have you heard anything?  From the staff, about what this announcement might be?”

Chan was walking briskly ahead of you, voice coming out slightly strained.  You knew why; his father calling an unscheduled meeting with the entire court, alluding to some mysterious “announcement,” had everyone on edge, Chan most of all.  The king still kept his son in the dark about the majority of his political proceedings, much to Chan’s frustration and chagrin, and no one but his closest inner circle had any inkling as to what this might be about.

“No, Your Highness. It’s been quiet in the servants’ quarters; everyone is equally surprised.”

“Well, whatever it is, promise to take my side?”

“Have I ever not?”

The two of you entered the throne room, and despite your knowledge of what a full court gathering was, you were still taken aback by the sheer amount of people present.  Every nobleman, every knight, every person who wasn’t otherwise occupied was here, filling the space along the wall and facing the dias at the head of the room where King Bang sat, the empty seats to his right and left standing out amongst the crowded room.  Even Prince Minho, the king’s nephew and second in command of the royal guard after Chan, was back from his post on the Lajoran border.

Whatever this announcement was, it was serious.

Chan approached his seat next to the king as he usually did on occasions like this, but was stopped by his father’s voice.

“Chan, please remain there.  You are the subject of my announcement today.”

You saw Chan’s face pale as he remained in the center of the room.  You were still standing behind him, debating whether or not you should stay beside him or step back to one of the walls where the servants stood.  As you scanned for your mother in the crowd, that question was answered for you.

“Y/n, you too shall stay where you are.  I will have instructions for you as well.”

You bowed your head slightly in acknowledgement of his order, and took your place slightly behind Chan’s left shoulder to await whatever insane proclamation King Bang was about to make.

Nothing could have prepared you for the words that left his mouth.

“Chris, I have made you a wedding match.  You are to be married to Princess Korenna of Lajor in six week’s time.”

The entire room was silent, every person holding their breath to hear what the prince’s reaction would be.  This was not something anyone was expecting, Chan least of all.  It took every ounce of your willpower to school your face into a neutral expression as you tried to contend with the hundreds of thoughts flooding your mind.

Chan was to be married?  To someone from Lajor?  One of Gu’s oldest enemies suddenly wanted to form an alliance, and through marriage?  What would that even entail?  Who would hold what powers?  Why was the ceremony so soon?  Who would be in charge of the preparations?  How would this change your relationship with Chan?

After what felt like hours, but was more likely only several seconds, you heard Chan’s voice echoing one of your thoughts out loud.

“A Lajoran?!  But father, they are responsible for - “

“You need not remind me what they are responsible for, Christopher.”

“Then I don’t understand, how did this come about?!”

You couldn’t stop the low ringing slowly building in your ears, accompanied by a sudden wave of nausea.  You vaguely registered the king’s voice, explaining how King Eunther had approached him, how he agreed “it was time we put that mess behind us,” and how his daughter would be a suitable match for the Gu prince.  Your mind wandered, remembering how many times Chan had told you he never wanted to be used as a pawn in his father’s political games, how he hated the idea of being forced to marry a stranger.  You couldn’t seem to register any other information, thinking solely about Chan, the man you’d known since childhood, your friend, having to be married off to satisfy his father’s need for power.  Finally, a loud voice cut through the fog in your head.

“Y/n, are you listening?  Look at me when I’m talking to you, girl!”

You looked up in surprise to see the king’s unpleasant expression looking down at you.  Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Chan’s pained face turned slightly towards you, waiting to see why his father had kept you in the center of the room as well.

“I apologize, Your Majesty.”

“You will serve Princess Korenna when she arrives for her introductory stay here a week from today.”

You heard a scoff from next to you and glanced to see Chan’s face growing angrier by the second.  “First you lay this on me, now you’re taking away my servant?!  How do you expect me to cope with all of this?”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words.  You knew he was simply talking in a language his father would understand, explaining how it would be an inconvenience for him to not have someone available at all times of the day, to keep track of his schedule, to clean his clothes, bring him his meals, prepare his horses and armor.  But you couldn’t help the sting of being referred to as a “servant”; surely Chan saw you as more than that, just as you saw him as more than just your future monarch.

“You will manage with half of her normal attention,” the king answered, his tone laced with a hint of irritation at his son’s current attitude.  “Besides, you’ll spend most of your time with Korenna, so she’ll be with the both of you regardless.”

The anger was coming off of Chan in waves, so palpable you felt like you could reach out and touch it.  Finally he set his jaw, facing his father.

“Is that all you had for me?”

“Well that’s all for the matter of the marriage yes but - “

Chan turned on his heel, walking out of the room to the sound of hushed whispers and his father’s increasingly pitiful protests.

You wanted nothing more than to run after him, to pull him into your arms and soothe him, tell him everything would be alright.  But you knew better than to leave, not having been dismissed by the king yet.  So you stood there, heart aching so badly, feeling exposed, like everyone could see the shattered pieces of it that had fallen at your feet.

“I’ll go look for him,” you heard Minho say as he passed by you, the king nodding and waving his hand to dismiss the rest of you.  You heard your mother calling for you but you ignored her, wanting to get out of that stifling room, to go somewhere, anywhere where you could be alone.  You knew where Chan had gone, where he always went when he was upset and needed time to think, but no one bothered to ask you in their search for him.

***

He returned to his room that evening like you knew he would, the door creaking open as you stood across the room ironing his rarely used formal wear with the glass smoother.

His voice came out choked as he whispered, “I’m sorry for what I said.  For referring to you as my servant.”

“It’s alright, Your Highness.  I know you were upset - “

“That’s no excuse.”

Feeling his presence close behind you, you turned to him, reaching for his hand.  “I forgive you.”

He brought his other hand to your cheek, and when you looked up, you saw his eyes staring at you, imploring you to stay, to talk to him.  It was so tempting, the desire to give in, to lean in to him and let him hold you like you knew he wanted.  But you had to be strong, for him and for yourself.  And you knew if you stayed, if you opened up to each other, tried to confront the feelings you knew you still had and could only hope he reciprocated, neither of you would ever recover.  So you took his hand from your face, holding both of his in yours between you as you said, “You should get some rest, Your Highness.”

“Y/n please,” he murmured.

“It is done.  There’s nothing you or I can do.”

He made one last attempt, turning and holding your wrist lightly, but let you go as you pulled away.  Opening the door, you wished him goodnight, desperately trying to hold in your tears as you left.  Your footsteps took you down the hall quickly, but not before you caught the small sound of a sob coming from behind his door.

{part 2}

[voiceless-terror]

More than Enough

For @tma-mspec-week Day Three: Polycule

Characters: Jonathan Sims/Sasha James/Tim Stoker/Martin Blackwood

Rating: Teen

Summary:

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

Or: How One Became Four.

It starts with Sasha and Jon.

She’s fresh off six months in Artefact Storage, shell-shocked and stand-offish. Jon starts a few months later and they learn the ropes together. She warms up, divulges little tidbits of her time in the other department that Jon devours. He’s young, hungry for answers and Sasha’s already jaded by her few years in academia. This is just a transitional job, she assures him. It pays better than most research gigs and allows her to keep up a certain lifestyle. 

“I’m looking at other places, putting out feelers,” she confides in him one day over coffee. It’s become their daily ritual, a mid-morning break where they can commiserate on the staid academics that ask too much of them and the fanciful statements that end up on their desk. “Whatever you do, don’t get stuck here.” She leans back in her chair, gives a cynical little smile. “Or maybe you should. It’ll be different for you, you’re a man.” He starts a protest but she cuts him off. “It’s an old boys club and you know it. Besides, I know all about your extra meetings with Bouchard. He’s never done that with anyone else. Who knows - in a few years you might be my boss!”

He scoffs at that. Jon feels like he’s treading water. He’s a great researcher, sure, but he hasn’t exactly made himself popular among the others. He’s quick to bite, dismissive, blunt. It’s why he and Sasha get along so well, tucked away in their own little world. Of course she would notice the attention from Elias; Jon’s flattered by it, even if he stammers his way through every interaction. Elias seems to find this amusing, but Jon wants to impress him. 

Though not at the cost of his friendship with Sasha. “I always mention your work to him. I’m rubbish with technology, but you-” She rolls her eyes.

“Don’t, he’ll see right through that. Manipulation’s not your strong suit.” Jon stares down at his rapidly cooling drink, an embarrassed flush spreading across his features. But her hand reaches out to grasp his and a fond smile lights her features. “Thank you, though. It’s sweet of you.”

Jon likes Sasha. Their personalities occasionally clash, but never for too long. Jon’s quick to forgive and Sasha’s too fond to hold a grudge, though she’s loath to admit it. So when her roommate suddenly moves out and she’s left in a bind, it’s only natural for Jon to take her place. He’s been rent-poor, living paycheck to paycheck in a shitty studio that’s still an hour’s commute. Sasha’s closer and her flat’s substantially nicer; she offers and he accepts, easy as that. It’s a practical move, and Jon has to admit his lonely little flat is starting to feel suffocating. 

They fit together easily, like pieces of puzzle slotting in place. Sasha’s brutally efficient in her personal matters; bills and maintenance that Jon finds overwhelming and confounding she takes care of with ease. He’s heard her on the phone in that light, practiced tone of hers as she casually threatens the landlord for necessary repairs. Jon finds himself relaxing bit by bit, feeling comfortable in his own skin as she snarks at the dinner table over a dish he’s made. He used to cook for Georgie like this. Now he cooks for Sasha.

“You’re good at this,” she comments one night over chana masala. “Loads better than the frozen meals I’m used to.”

“It’s nice, having someone to cook for. Harder to do it for one.” He feels a bit uncomfortable with the admission, though he knows he shouldn’t - this is what it’s like, when you love someone.

He’s never said that to her, of course. He gets attached too easily but never knows quite how to show it. And it’s not his usual sort of love, he doesn’t want to date her. She’s more than a friend, and Jon’s never had many of those; he has no metric to measure this against. He thinks he could stay in this flat with her forever, so long as he could see her smile every morning and yawn every night. 

On a Saturday morning she stumbles out of bed and makes her way over to the kitchen. “Morning,” she grumbles, as she reaches for the coffee pot and kisses his forehead. Jon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to.

On a Wednesday night Jon drinks too much. 

“Sasha,” he slurs, her arm the only thing keeping him from falling off his stool. “I want you t’ know…”

She smiles indulgently, takes a sip of her drink. “Yes, dear?”

“I-I love you.” She pauses and Jon’s heart drops. “N-Not like that, but like friends. Good friends. Very good friends. But m-maybe not.” She’s still smiling, that’s got to be a good sign, right? “I-I just love you, okay?”

And then she laughs, puts an arm around his shoulder and pulls him close. “I love you too. Stay with me forever, okay?”

He takes her hand between his and promises, with all the solemnity a drunken man can muster, that he’ll stay with her forever and then some. The next morning, while they’re both nursing massive hangovers, Jon broaches the subject again.

“Did you mean it?” he asks tentatively, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. “What you said last night. Do- do you want me to stay forever?” She turns to look at him, bleary eyes suddenly alert.

“Yes.” There’s no tease in her words as she leans into his side, a warm weight on his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more.”

Jon stays.

______

Two years later, Tim joins the Institute.

He’s handsome; charming, but subdued. He’s been assigned a desk near theirs, invading the quiet little corner that had become their world. Tim greets them both with a smile and a perfunctory handshake before settling down at his desk and powering up his laptop. He doesn’t speak to them again.

Jon watches as he goes back and forth between circulation and his desk, building an impressive stack of books- The Pantomime Life of Joseph Grimaldi, The Congress of Clowns and Other Russian Circus Acts. Sasha told him he worked in publishing, Jon knows she got that information through her usual nefarious means. Perhaps he’s writing a book, Jon says. Sasha thinks otherwise.

“He’s one of those,” she says over sandwiches and tea. She invited Tim, but had been turned down with an apologetic smile. 

“Hmm?”

“Like you.” She sets her drink down, eyes him with her steady gaze. “He’s got a reason.”

Mr. Spider doesn’t like it.

Jon shivers at the reminder. Sasha never brought it up after he initially confided in her one vulnerable night last year; she just held him through the shaking and the tears. He’s only told the story twice; once at eight, again at twenty five. It never got easier.

“No one believed me,” he whispered, tucking his face into her shoulder as his body itched from phantom legs skittering across skin. She squeezed him back.

“I do.”

They’re friendly enough to Tim, giving him his distance while still trying to be helpful. Jon points him in the direction of texts and scholars who might be useful, Sasha teaches him a few of her more invasive tricks that Jon refused to learn. Slowly, bit by bit, he opens up. Never shares his story, no- but he smiles, jokes around with them, accompanies them on their lunch breaks and eventually entices them to after work drinks. 

He’s handsome when he smiles, Jon thinks to himself as Tim regales them with stories of dates gone wrong. Sasha catches his eye and winks. He wonders if she’ll tire of Jon now that Tim’s around. He’s everything Jon’s not; good-looking, confident, secure in his intelligence. Sasha laughs so freely around him. He could ground her where Jon cannot- they can be a chaotic force, the two of them. It’s why they keep to themselves.

But at the end of the night it’s Jon’s hand she takes, swinging it gently with hers. “Stay with me forever?”

He smiles. “Forever.”

They invite him over to their flat one night in spring, when the trees are blossoming and Jon’s allergies are acting up. He’s sniffling miserably on the couch, Tim sprawled next to him as Sasha pours some wine. Despite his misery, Jon’s content.

Tim nudges him with his foot. “So what’s your deal?” he asks in a wheedling tone, though his smirk betrays an almost imperceptible anxiety. It’s strange. “You and Sash. Dating, roomies…?”

It’s Sasha who answers, handing Jon a glass of wine and standing before Tim, tall and proud. “Jon’s my partner.” It’s matter of fact, and Jon can’t help the warmth that floods him. “We’re not dating. I’m not interested in that.” She hands him his glass with a smirk. “But if you want to romance Jon, feel free.”

Jon sputters as she laughs- he’s transparent, as usual. They’d talked about it briefly- Sasha’s fine with him dating other people, but Jon’s never felt the need to. Sasha’s enough. She still is, but he can’t deny the way his heart swoops whenever Tim aims that smile in his direction. Sasha likes him too, in her own way.

Tim’s still gaping at them and Jon can’t help but join in on the laughter, as embarrassed as he feels. “Is the great Timothy Stoker nervous?” Sasha says in between giggles. “Guess we know how to shut him up now.”

“L-Look, can you blame me?” Tim says, a smile growing on his face. “You two can be very intimidating, not to mention gorgeous-”

Jon kicks at his leg. “Don’t joke.”

“No, we are.” Sasha interrupts, daring him to disagree. She turns that deadly smile back on Tim, delighting in his falter. “So what’ll it be, Stoker?”

There’s silence, Jon can feel his heart racing. They’ve got this all wrong, Tim doesn’t want him, Tim’s going to leave, Tim doesn’t understand-

“Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?”

Jon blinks. “Uh, yes?”

“He likes Thai!” Sasha calls as she walks over to her bedroom, leaving the two of them on the couch, laughing nervously. 

“So you’re bi, then?” Tim asks, scooting closer to Jon and throwing a blanket over their legs and an arm around his shoulder. It’s warm in all the right ways and Jon leans closer, the awkwardness dissipating at the touch of his hand. 

“I prefer pan,” he replies. It’s the first term that felt right to him. Georgie used to make some stupid joke about a ‘gender buffet’ and him ‘having one of everything.’ It still makes him smile. “And- and you should know I’m also ace. So there’s some things I won’t be able to do for you.” He looks for disappointment in Tim’s eyes and finds none. “I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course.” Tim smiles like he means the words and Jon feels light, almost dizzy. “Are kisses alright?”

He nods shyly, and Tim takes this as his cue to pepper him in obnoxiously loud smooches- one in his hair, another on his nose. Jon manages to bat him away after Tim almost gets him in the eye. 

So Tim and Jon are dating. Tim takes him out to dinner, the movies, one memorable night of karaoke. Sasha joins in when she wants; they go to museums and lectures. One night she laces her fingers through Tim’s, smiling at his wide eyes.

“What?” she says innocently, doing the same with Jon. “I’ve got two hands.”

On Wednesday nights Tim goes to the gym. Jon sits at the table, passes Sasha a bowl of reheated spaghetti before settling down in his chair. He fidgets, not touching his fork.

“What is it?” Sasha asks, setting her own fork down. “You’ve got that look on your face.”

“I-” he stutters, sighing as the words won’t come. Just tell her like you practiced. “I’m not trying to, well- hmm. I don’t want to insinuate anything-”

“You would never.”

“But, I’ve noticed- I’m not- Tim is very handsome.”

Sasha smiles indulgently. “Mhm. Go on.”

“And I’ve noticed. I don’t- if you wanted to-” Goddamnit. Pull yourself together. “I wouldn’t mind it, if you were to - that is, if you’d like to engage in-” He closes his eyes, purses his lips in frustration. “Please stop me.”

“Why Jon,” she replies, her voice coy and teasing. “Are you giving me your blessing?”

Jon sighs, his face warming as he opens one eye- she’s grinning, just as he expected. “...Yes?”

Six months later, Tim moves in.

_______

“Jon wants to bring a boy home!”

Jon smacks him in the arm and scowls. “Tim, don’t-”

“What, it’s true!” He leans back in his chair, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Jon wants to knock the smile off his face and maybe onto the floor, if he can get a good kick in. “I don’t blame you and in fact, I encourage it. Martin’s a catch-”

“Martin?” Sasha perks up. “Finally!”

“Not you too-”

“Jon, he’s a very sweet boy-”

“-good-looking, too!”

“And if you want to bring him over, please do.” She reaches across the table to give his hand an encouraging, if condescending, squeeze. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”

“But what if-” Once again, Jon struggles to find the right words. He knows their situation is unorthodox to most people, and the thought of Martin looking at him differently is too much to bear. “What if he doesn’t understand?”

“Then explain it to him,” Sasha relays patiently, her hand never leaving his. Things are always so clear to her, Jon envies that. “You’re my partners, you’re dating Tim, sometimes me and Tim have-”

“I don’t think I’ll need to go into that much detail just yet,” Jon cuts her off, ignoring Tim’s snicker. “It’s just...what if he thinks it's weird?”

“Weird can be good. And if he doesn’t agree, well - he’s not worth your time.”

If only it were that simple.

It’s been about three months since he first ran into Martin in the break room. He’d seen him around plenty of times, but despite his hulking form, the man can make himself very, very small. It wasn’t until he quite literally ran into him, causing him to drop his newly organized files, that Jon got a good look at his face.

It was a nice face. Soft, kind, with big blue eyes and curly red hair that fell across his forehead. He wanted to touch it, tuck it behind Martin’s ear and he almost did, despite the man’s rambling apologies and meek demeanor. He stood there, frozen, even as Martin handed back the file with a bashful smile.

“Sorry, I’m pretty clumsy. Are you alright?”

Jon was fine. He should probably say that.

“Y-Yes. I’m Jon.” Wow. Smooth.

“I know.” Martin put a hand behind his neck, nervously chuckling. “You’re quite known around these parts.” His eyes widened and his face turned red. A nice red. “N-Not in a bad way, of course! You’re- you’re just very smart and- and direct- and oh Lord, that’s not a compliment, is it-”

“Thank you for my file,” Jon replied robotically, his eyes trained somewhere over Martin’s shoulder and not on his very, very blue eyes. “I have to take my leave now.” Why are you talking like this?

Their next few encounters were similarly stunted and awkward. Martin made tea at ten every morning, coincidentally when Jon got his yogurt from the fridge. He started making Jon a cup as well; he wasn’t sure if Martin was particularly excellent at making tea, or if it just mattered that he was the one making it. Jon tried not to dwell on the sentimentality of it all. 

He shouldn’t want another partner. He’s got Sasha, who he loves, and Tim, who he also loves, albeit in a different way. They should be enough for him. They are enough. But Martin makes him tea and asks him how his day is going and smiles at him and people don’t do that. He tells himself he just wants a friend, but he finds his mind wandering- Martin’s hand in his while they walk down the street, Jon nestled into his side on a movie night and Tim’s there too, because Martin is very comfy and handsome and warm. Sasha’s in her armchair reading a book because tonight they’re watching a romantic comedy and she hates those. Jon hates them too but Martin likes them, of course Martin likes them-

No. He’s getting distracted. And he’s standing in front of Martin like an idiot, saying nothing. This is going terribly. Why did he ever think this would not go terribly-

“Jon? Are you alright? You look like you’re about to have a stroke.”

“I’m not having a stroke,” Jon responds on auto-pilot. “I’m trying to think of a clever way to ask you out but you are very distracting.”

Shit. Martin stares at him, mouth open in shock. He’s got nice teeth. Very straight.

“Um- I-I thought you were with Tim?” Martin squeaks out. Oh God, I’ve scared him. Do I keep going? “Or- or Sasha, oh! I’m not accusing you of -”

“No, you’re correct,” Jon grinds out, willing himself to be calm. He doesn’t want Martin to think his frustration is aimed at him. “Sasha’s my partner and I’m dating Tim, and sometimes Sasha and Tim-” No! Abort! “-sorry. We’re together. But, um, I-I also like you, and I think Tim likes you but he hasn’t said- I’m sorry, this is going all wrong.” He looks down at the floor, clenching his jaw. “I understand if you say no.”

“I’m not saying no,” Martin’s voice is lower now and Jon feels a hope rise in his chest. He’s not? “So it’s, it’s like an open thing? You’re accepting applications?” Jon would laugh at the joke if he weren’t so paralyzed with fear.

“Not really? It’s, we aren’t dating around or anything, but I suppose it is open, in a way.” He pauses, takes a deep breath. “Open for you.”

Martin’s smiling like he can’t believe his luck, and it confuses Jon because who wouldn’t want him? Kind, handsome Martin who makes him tea and doesn’t laugh at his stupid jokes but rolls his eyes affectionately and tells his own in turn. Jon doesn’t think he’ll ever understand his humor but it makes him smile and that’s important. And now Martin’s taking his hand and he- oh fuck Martin’s taking his hand Martin’s got his hand and it’s warm, just like he knew it would be-

“I-I think I’d like that.” A squeeze. Jon dies but only a little. “Wow, this is sort of crazy for me, y’know? You’re all so, so intimidating and good-looking-”

“Yes, we are,” Jon agrees, squeezing his hand back. “But we’d like to buy you dinner, if you’re amenable.” Martin laughs and says yes, he’s very, very amenable. It feels right holding Martin’s hand. It feels right to see him with Tim and Sasha, smiling and joking. It feels right to lean into him at the end of the day, to nudge his side in the night and apologize in the morning.

Martin’s lease expires in seven months. They start looking for a new apartment after three.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29032062

[abbacchiosbelt]

Hold On | Prosciutto x Reader

A commissioned fic for the wonderful Shae!

CW: Misogynistic comments [not from Prosciutto], oral sex. NSFW, 18+ only.

Word Count: 3.3k words.

The sunlight filtering through the apartment’s cheap blinds forces you to blearily open your eyes, your gaze immediately falling to the man in the bed next to you – Prosciutto. The night you’d spent with him had been more than you’d ever dreamed of, especially with a man of Prosciutto’s caliber. Handsome, mysterious, and clearly well-off by the price of the dinner he’d taken you out to. Though he’d waved you away when you asked for the price, you managed to catch it out of the corner of your eye. Prosciutto had even spent the night with you, letting you fall asleep on his chest while he stroked your hair. It was tender, intimate – not something you necessarily expected after a single date.

Prosciutto stirs, as if he knew you were thinking about him, his eyebrows knit together and his mouth pulled into a frown. When he catches your eyes, you see a brief hint of a smile before he sits up and immediately stands to start gathering his clothes.

“You’re leaving already?” You sit up, pulling the covers over your chest. Prosciutto nods but doesn’t look over at you. Your stomach falls, but you should have expected it. At the very least, you wouldn’t have been opposed to him staying for a light breakfast. Once he’s fully dressed, he finally turns to look at you. His eyes are steely, portraying no emotion.

“It was…” He waves his hand in the air, searching for the word. “Very good. But, ah,” Prosciutto hesitates, watching your expression. He remembers the text Illuso had sent him in the middle of the night; a line in English to use when he left in the morning. “I’m a busy man, cara.” It’s only a little clunky when he speaks, the pet name afterwards flowing smoothly from his lips.

It was like that, then – his warmth from the night before must have been an act. You don’t bother trying to pretend that you’re okay with his behavior, instead giving him a cool look in return. You tilt your head towards the doorway, affixing him with a look that said everything he needed to know. “Ciao, Prosciutto.” The words are no longer kind like when you saw him on the sidewalk and stopped to talk to him, instead sounding final. He sighs and gives you one last lingering look before he steps out of the room. You don’t move until you hear your front door close.

“Bastard,” you mutter under your breath, flopping back down on your pillow. You cover up the side of the bed where he’d been sleeping with your comforter, ignoring the lingering scent of his cologne. You were tempted to waste the day in bed but instead decide to strip your sheets, throwing them unceremoniously in the washing machine and adding in too much fabric softener. At least the scent of him would be gone. A part of you feels foolish for being so upset, and yet another part of you can’t let go of how genuine Prosciutto seemed. While you didn’t want to deal with it today, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that there was something more to your night with him.

-

Prosciutto stubs his cigarette out on the ground, frowning at how many cigarette butts were littered around the front doorstep of his home and workplace. He could have cleaned it up himself, but he wasn’t the only smoker in the group, so why should he have to? The filth sours his already dour mood, the blonde muttering curses as he unlocks the building’s door. It hadn’t been his first choice to live with his teammates, but since the loss of Sorbet and Gelato, the close quarters provided them with an extra layer of safety.

Prosciutto groans in annoyance when the first faces to pop up into his view are Melone and Formaggio, the pair staring at him expectantly. Melone was lounging on the dingy couch he’d brought with him when he moved in, his laptop perched on his legs. Formaggio was sitting in the large chair that Risotto usually claimed, both of them looking like the cat who got the canary. It irked Prosciutto that they were staring at him like they knew something, and he wondered if Illuso hadn’t blabbed about the whole thing. It wouldn’t be unlike him.

“Welcome back,” Melone says, practically purring. The way he spoke made Prosciutto’s skin crawl – Melone always had a certain tone to his voice when he was going to say something inappropriate. “So, the neighbor girl? What was her name again? Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t remember now.” Melone’s mouth curls up into a smug smile, his tongue poking out. Prosciutto bristles, and Formaggio lets out an obnoxious snort.

“Knew you’d get to her first.” Formaggio whistles, wiggling his eyebrows. “Was her ass as good as it looked?” Prosciutto glares at Formaggio, his eyes darkening. The banter around who his teammates were fucking was something he should be used to, despite the fact Prosciutto didn’t enjoy participating in it. Something about this time, though, was filling him was anger. Formaggio continues, ignoring Prosciutto’s expression. “I bet she was easy for you. You pretty bastards practically make those easy slut’s panties fall off just from looking at them.”

“Ooh, and how was that pretty mouth of hers?” Melone chimes in – unlike Formaggio, he’d noticed Prosciutto’s growing rage, but took pleasure in upsetting the blonde. Prosciutto growls and steps forward, Grateful Dead rising from behind him. Before he can advance on them, a voice cuts through—

“Aniki! Y-you remember what Risotto said about Stands in here.” Pesci’s unsure voice breaks the tension in the room, Melone and Formaggio recoiling back at the sight of Prosciutto’s deadly Stand. Prosciutto takes a ragged breath before recalling his Stand, Pesci’s intervention forcing him to remember where he was. Pesci nervously steps over to Prosciutto; afraid he’d made him even angrier. Prosciutto claps Pesci on the shoulder.

“You’re right,” Prosciutto says. His cool demeanor is back in an instant. He doesn’t bother to look at Melone and Formaggio when he starts to walk back towards his room, saluting Pesci with two fingers before he shuts the door behind him. Prosciutto lets out a deep breath when the door is securely locked, kicking off his expensive shoes. He preferred to spend as much time as possible away from this place, but there were no errands that needed to be run nor any missions that he and Pesci were suited for at the moment. He had a rare few hours to himself before someone would inevitably knock at his door to bother him. Alone time was something sacred to Prosciutto, but with the thoughts boiling over in his head about her, it was something he was dreading. He glances at the English dictionary Ghiaccio had (loudly) snuck into his room, his stomach twisting.

There was no denying that Prosciutto had fallen for her.

Feelings were a dangerous thing for an assassin to have. Prosciutto was trained from a young age on how to push his feelings to the back of his mind – he was primed for Mafia life. Passione and completing the missions given to him came before anything else, especially his own personal life. Prosciutto had lived that way for years. Emotions were drowned in cheap booze and cigarettes, any fleeting feelings he may have stamped out by his own harsh nature. He had never spent a second night with anyone he’d slept with in the past five years, and that was going to be how he lived until he died. Prosciutto was well aware of the dangerous life he lived – he was cold, but he wasn’t cold enough to put someone in harm’s way, even if he wanted them more than anything.

Even if they had made warmth bloom in his chest for the first time in years and made him truly feel something.

Prosciutto closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose as he sits on his bed, fishing another cigarette out of his jacket’s pocket. He preferred to smoke outdoors, but he can’t be bothered to care in his current emotional state. Prosciutto lights his cigarette and takes a deep drag, letting the smoke burn his throat before he exhales. He thinks about the previous night – how lovely his company had been and how much she’d made him laugh. How well they clicked despite the language barrier, and how easy it felt with her; her demure smile before he’d taken her to bed, and how easily she had made him fall apart.

Prosciutto knows he should ignore his feelings. It’s what he was trained to do, after all. It’s what he should do – but he knows he can’t. Not this time. He stands from his bed and opens the small window in his room, tossing his half-finished cigarette out.

He’d give her time – a week for both of them to cool their heads. Even if she didn’t want to see him again, he had to try.

-

The next few days pass by without incident. You go to work and continue life as it was before, frustrated but determined to move on. Your phone stays silent, and you try to ignore the part in you that hopes it will ring.

It’s fine, you tell yourself. It was just one date.

When you hear a knock on the door one week to the day after your date with Prosciutto, you’re cautious. The neighborhood you lived in wasn’t known for its safety, and it was rare that anyone knocked on your door. Clad in loungewear, you peek through the eyehole to see the last person you were expecting.

There stood Prosciutto, shifting from side to side. You unlock your door and crack it open, watching as Prosciutto’s eyebrows shoot up for a moment before his face returns to its grumpy looking state. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to answer.

“Can I come in?” Prosciutto asks, quiet. You hesitate, wondering exactly what he could want. He doesn’t pressure you, waiting in silence while you deliberate. You knew you might regret it, but you open the door and usher him in. He shuts the door behind himself and leans against it, biting his bottom lip. You hadn’t known him long, but you had never seen him look so anxious. “Bella, I…” He starts, trailing off.

You stop him before he gets too far, crossing your arms. “I don’t want some apology you give to every girl.” Prosciutto frowns but doesn’t interject. “You hurt me.”

Prosciutto nods, and you raise an eyebrow at him. He pauses for a second while he thinks about what he wants to say. “Mi dispiace, Shae.” His eyes meet yours, the sound of your name coming from his mouth making your heart pound. It was almost criminal how easily you wanted to forgive him, but you needed more than just an apology. Prosciutto takes a step forward and holds his hand out. You place your hand in his, hesitant. He lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss against the back of it. “Can we… try again?” Prosciutto is earnest when he speaks, your hand still resting in his. He threads his fingers through yours, a soft smile on his face. “Per favore?”

As tempting as it was to accept his apology, you refused to let him back into your life without making sure Prosciutto knew how you felt – about how you wouldn’t just be tossed to the side again. You keep a hold of his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “Prosciutto, I want to, but…” He raises his eyebrows, but his deep blue gaze doesn’t leave yours. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me?” Prosciutto opens his mouth, but you use your free hand to press your index finger against his lips. He looks surprised, but he keeps his mouth shut. “Not just now. But in the future?” You think for a moment that you might need to translate for him, but Prosciutto nods eagerly. He pulls you into him, wrapping one arm around your waist.

“Sì, Shae. I want you,” he leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. “Now. Tomorrow. Costantemente.” He breathes, ghosting a kiss across your lips. “Can I?”

You close the gap between your mouths as an answer, Prosciutto’s responding groan as his warm lips found your own making your lower half ache – you’d been dreaming of feeling his touch again. Prosciutto lets go of your hand and grabs the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He was more vocal than he’d been last week, his moans needy as you slide your tongue across his lower lip.

For the first time, Prosciutto felt like he could let his walls down around someone – he can barely think with your lips finally on his again. Never had he ached so much for someone. To Prosciutto, you felt like a lover he’d been with for years. He wanted to make it up to you for being such a fool, to treat you like the goddess he saw you as. He slides his hands down your body and squeezes your ass before hauling you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. The surprised noise that you let out makes Prosciutto’s already hardening length twitch, but it was the last thing on his mind. The only thing he could think about was hearing you cry out for him as he buried his face in between your legs. He maneuvers you to your bedroom like he’d been in your home a million times, gently laying you down on the bed before hungrily looking over you.

The fact you only had loungewear on while Prosciutto was dressed in his usual outfit makes you feel self-conscious, but the blonde barely seems to care what you have on. You squirm as his eyes rove up and down your body, Prosciutto grinning at your reaction.

“Sei bellissima,” he purrs. The words affect you just as much as they had the first time you heard them from Prosciutto, your heart thumping in your chest. To be called beautiful by someone as handsome as Prosciutto felt unreal, but you knew by the look in his deep blue eyes that he was sincere. Prosciutto crawls over you on the bed and puts his fingers under the hem of your shirt, waiting.

“Take it off.” Prosciutto hums, pleased at your eager response, and wastes no time sliding your shirt up and off. He bites his lip at the sight of your freed breasts and uses his hands to cup them, softly rubbing his thumb over your hardening nipples. The soft touches have you arching into his fingers, greedy for more. “Please,” you beg, and Prosciutto smirks. He leans down and captures your right nipple in his mouth, his warm tongue circling around the bud before he flicks it, repeating the rhythm before moving to your other breast. One hand travels down your body while he works your breasts, his hand trailing over your hip bone and dipping slightly beneath the fabric covering your lower half. He pulls back and admires his handiwork, his cock uncomfortably hard in his pants now. Prosciutto ignores it, focusing on you instead.

Prosciutto trails kisses down your torso until he reaches your lower stomach, his eyes flitting up to look at you under his dark lashes. “May I?” He asks, playing with the hem of your pants.

“P-please,” your voice is wobbly – he hadn’t done this last time, and you were a little nervous. Prosciutto presses a kiss to your stomach and lifts his head, your anxiety obvious to him. You know he’ll ask you if you’re sure, so you beat him to it, your cheeks darkening. “I want it,” Your eyes don’t leave Prosciutto’s. “Please, Prosciutto.” Asking for what you want is enough to make your cheeks blaze even harder from embarrassment, but Prosciutto’s wide smirk is evidence that he enjoys how forward you were being.

Prosciutto slides your pants down and off your legs with ease before he moves back up and gently spreads them apart, exposing your glistening pussy. You feel embarrassed at how wet you are, but it was impossible not to be with Prosciutto’s masterful kissing and touching. He licks his lips as he gazes at your sex, using two fingers to spread your lips apart.

“P, Prosciutto-” you whisper-shout, flustered. If you could see his mouth, you’d see the grin on his face.

“Hm?” He replies, leaning forward. You can feel his warm breath on you, the sensation making your body feel hyper aware. “Perfetta.” You shiver, remembering his words from your previous encounter – despite the embarrassment from being exposed in front of him, you were dying to know how his mouth felt. Your wish is granted when Prosciutto suddenly licks a long stripe from your perineum to your clit using the flat of his tongue, a growl coming from his throat as he tastes your juices.

“Oh!” You shout, the feeling of his tongue almost too good. Prosciutto doesn’t give you a chance to think before his mouth is back on your pussy again, the combination of sloppy kisses and practiced flicks of his tongue on your clit driving you crazy. He uses his arms to drag you forward so that your legs are over his shoulders while he works at you like a man starved – he uses his tongue to fuck your pussy as deep as he can, rutting against the bed for his own relief.

Prosciutto’s jaw is aching, but he refuses to stop – and how could he, when you looked so beautiful writhing above him? The heady scent of you combined with the divine taste had his cock leaking precum in his slacks. All he wanted to do was take his own cock out and fuck you until his name was the only thing you could remember, but he refused to do so without finishing his apology to you with his mouth. He feels your legs shaking around him and switches tactics, using his tongue and mouth on your clit, groaning when he feels your hands tug at his hair. He allows you to push him in just the right spot, his own body buzzing with pleasure as you use him.

You cry out and press yourself hard against Prosciutto as his tongue finally takes you over the peak that’d been building up in your body, your eyes clenching shut as your legs clamp around him, white hot pleasure coursing through your lower half. Your body feels like it’s floating as you come down, your legs and arms going limp with relief. Prosciutto lifts his head from your pussy, face glistening with your juices and a smirk plastered across his face. He gently eases himself out from below you and sits against the pillows resting against your headboard. He moves so that you can rest your head against your lap, Prosciutto gently brushing through your hair with his fingers.

“Prosciutto,” You murmur, your mind still hazy. “Let me take care of you.” He shakes his head from above you, giving your head a pat before he goes back to stroking your hair.

“Later, tesoro.” The pet name makes your stomach flutter, and you give him a lazy smile. He smiles back, the corners of his eyes crinkling. It’s the first genuine smile you’ve seen from him. You close your eyes, eventually falling asleep to Prosciutto’s soothing touches.

When you wake up, you’re covered in the comforter. There’s something warm wrapped around you – when you look over, you see Prosciutto snoozing away, his hair loose and spread around the pillow. You smile and settle back down, warmth flowing through your chest when Prosciutto cuddles closer to you in his sleep.

This time, you knew he would be there in the morning.

[the-faces-and-voices-in-my-head]

A Miracle in September

Alright, let me give you a short explanation for what will happen next.

I am not a writer and I will never see myself as a writer.

However, I might have some ideas hidden deep down and they happen to float when they grow bigger than my brain and my heart to take.

You guys are the best place to share whatever you will read with.

You are more than welcome to love it, hate it, or ignore it.

But of course, If It is up to me, I hope it gives you a happy moment.

@i-am-no-body Since it was your request to write something, I did it now let's share whatever reactions we get together XD

It was a windy day, the leaves and thin branches were moving with the wind proving how strong it was; sitting in his wheelchair, Levi Ackerman watched the scene quietly from the large window in his room.

It started as a beautiful day of the autumn season.

Levi's favorite season.

He was lost in his thoughts until a tiny persistent sound forced him back to reality. He pushed the wheelchair closer to the window where he saw a cat struggling to stay balanced on the edge of another close window to his.

-Tch! what an idiot!

The cat made this long heart-wrenching sound as if she was screaming for help, Levi lived on the fifth floor and if she fell, it would be a deadly fall for sure. Levi watched her for a moment then moved his wheelchair again to get one of his crutches that he often uses when he has to move longer than the usual distance he can walk.

He supported the crutch while pushing its wide end to where the scared cat stood. He thought he might create a bridge for her to reach to his window and he will take her inside; the cat didn't disappoint him, she started moving carefully walking on the crutch until she reached Levi's window and jumped into his lap.

Levi caught her with one hand, pulled the crutch back, and closed the window with the other hand.

-Here...I got you...Don't be scared.

The cat's heart was beating faster than usual even for her, Levi checked if she was injured anywhere then decided to start by feeding her.

-Wait here, I will make you a tasty lunch.

Levi has always been kind to animals, stray cats were his closest friends in his childhood so he didn't try to hide his love and kindness towards them as he has always done among humans.

Levi got up slowly and went towards the kitchen.

-Captain Levi!

Falco ran after Levi trying to help him in whatever he needed to walk for.

-Bring me a clean bowl Falco.

Not knowing what for, Falco brought a bowl to Levi, White milk filled the bowl while Falco watched in confusion: Captain...Are you hungry?

-Tch, do you think I drink milk from a bowl, brat?

Falco raised his hand in defense: No...no...I thought you are preparing cereals...they are usually put in milk.

-Ce...What?

-Falcoooo, I found a cute cat in captain Levi's room!

Levi was one who responded: Why are you in my room in the first place Gabi?

Gabi came with a wide happy smile on her face holding the cat excitedly: We wanted to check on you captain...we missed you and planned to spend the day with you.

Levi knew why...and he was grateful to the two brats whom he considered as a family ever since the nightmare ended.

He was aware what day tomorrow is but they came earlier than he expected them to come.

The doorbell rang and quiet knocks followed.

-MR ONYANKOPON IS HERE CAPTAIN LEVI!

Gabi's voice rang in the house while Levi was walking to the living room where Gabi took the cat.

-Falco, how do you survive this noisy one without going deaf?

Falco smiled shyly: I got used to her, captain.

And Levi knew more than anyone how to live with a loud cheerful one.

-Oh, where did you find this beautiful one, Levi?

-She was stuck like an idiot on the edge of a near window.

Onyankopon smiled and said: then you saved her right?

Levi's slightly blushing face answered for him.

Onyankopon continued: Once a hero, always a hero.

-Shut up smart hat!

Onyankopon laughed knowing how Levi reacts to compliments yet he never stopped expressing his admiration and gratitude to the man who saved the world despite everything he lost...and everyone.

The cat jumped from Gabi's arm to Levi's lap again ignoring the food.

-Oh? the cat already chose her owner Gabi!

-Well, this just gives me more reasons to stay with Captain Levi.

Levi stroked the white fur lovingly and talked to the cat: what? not hungry? or you didn't like it?

The cat returned the kind gesture by touching Levi's fingers with her paw then jumped again to where the bowl is and started drinking the milk in a graceful manner.

-Levi! The cat is well behaved! I thought she is going to make a mess!

Levi watched her silently but the admiration was obvious on his handsome face.

Gabi said: I will prepare the lunch then, come with me, Falco!

Falco's blushing cheeks explained what he wanted so the two men nodded in approval.

Onyankopon smiled and said: Ah that young love.

Levi didn't respond, verbally at least but he raised his hand and touched the stitches on his face nodding in agreement quietly.

Onyankopon knew how Levi felt.

It was the afternoon of the 4th of September.

In reality, it was a reminder of the unforgettable one they lost almost a year ago and in a better world, it would be almost her birthday.

Onyankopon closed his eyes for a moment and whispered: Happy Birthday Commander Hange...

As if she was called, the cat returned to Levi's lap again with a graceful jump but this time she climbed his chest and with her little paw touched the stitches on his face.

Both of the men were surprised and confused.

Levi's eye on this side was no longer able to serve him but he still felt the cat's careful touch, she traced the stitches carefully and gently as if she knew how delicate and important these stitches are.

The awkward silence lasted for almost a minute then the cat looked up as if she was seeing something on the ceiling.

She started to purr in satisfaction.

Levi was surprised by what she did but he enjoyed it nonetheless: you are such a weird ball of fur.

Onyankopon picked the topic: what are you going to call her?

Levi seemed surprised by the question.

He never considered keeping the cat.

-I didn't say I am keeping this furball.

-But she is so smart, clean and polite and she likes you a lot.

-She will make a mess sooner or later...You can keep her if you want.

-I am not the one being licked, touched, and loved by her sadly.

The cat was awake and listening, she flipped on her back in an adorable way touching Levi's sleeves with two paws.

-Hahahaha, Is she flirting now?

-If she is then she is an idiot.

Onyankopon shook his head without commenting on what Levi said, he learned that these words are signs of affection from Levi.

-Come on Levi, Pick a name.

-I don't have one...I will call her cat.

-Oh for god's sake Levi, she is a cat, I said a name.

-Why the hell do I need to call a cat with a name in the first place? I haven't lost my mind yet.

-It does not mean you lost your mind, it means that you care about your pet...Think of something related to her, her appearance, your feelings about her...anything she made you feel.

-Idiot...She is an idiot one so I will call her "Idiot"...Happy?

The cat hit Levi's hand lightly with her paw before biting it softly, almost tickled him.

Onyankopon didn't try to hold his laughter: See? She didn't like it, Levi.

Levi carried her and looked into her blue eyes.

It was exactly like the sea he saw for the first time with her...

That day...

He didn't show it but what he felt was pure joy.

Hange's beautiful face.

Her cheerful laugh.

Her curious comments.

He felt it all even if nobody noticed.

The sea for him was a reminder of the pure joy he once felt.

He hesitated before saying in a low unsure tone: How about...Joy?

Onyankopon answered immediately: I love it.

The cat seemed to like it too.

Gabi and Falco finished cooking and started serving the lunch.

The hours passed quickly.

They talked, joked, and laughed.

At 10 PM, Levi decided to go to sleep.

Falco and Gabi decided to stay in the other room Levi prepared for them.

Onyankopon shyly asked to stay and he was ok with sleeping on the big sofa if Levi accepted.

Levi didn't have the courage to disappoint them...and didn't want to do it.

He was grateful for this kind of love he got from all of them.

He knew how having a family may feel.

He knew how having a trustworthy friend can be.

Far from fears of loss, blood, and destruction, these feelings were different from what he experienced in his life and he wanted to cherish them even if he could not express them clearly.

After he closed the door of his room, he noticed that the cat sneaked in.

-Tch, I will not let you sleep on the bed.

The cat jumped on the near chair and stayed there.

Levi was prepared for a short fight, he was even considering giving in to the cat's desire if she insisted.

-Well, Good.

He started taking off his clothes to wear something more comfortable but he stopped abruptly when he heard a feminine voice: Are you sure you want to do that while I am sitting here?

He raised his head instantly towards the direction of the voice.

What he saw was almost a hallucination...

A woman he knew very well was sitting there where Joy was.

Levi needed a few seconds to speak: Ma!!!

She got up and sat beside him on the bed: I...I am not your mother but I thought you would love to see her face after all these years...was it a bad idea?

Levi didn't find the words.

He was sure that it was a dream.

He was sure that none of this was real.

But if it was a dream why isn't she in it?

-Are you thinking about the smiling woman with glasses?

Her kind smile matched his mother's.

He could finally speak: How do you know both of them? and...Who are you?

She kept the kind smile: You named me Joy.

-Then I am dreaming? or...Am I dying?

She touched his face like his mother did in an old dream of his and shook her head: Neither...It is just that I owe you.

The question didn't leave Levi's head but she answered it: some cats are not only mere cats, we live in this world disguising ourselves in forms, cats are our favorite since humans love it and respect it, they even worshipped them.

-So...You are not a cat?

-I know you are new to this world and the concept of miracles is not a familiar one to you but I am one of god's creatures, powerful enough to repay your kindness.

-Can you bring back the dead?

Levi asked without thinking then he felt a mix of shame and sadness.

-I don't think I need to go that far.

Levi's widened eyes asked before he did: what do you mean?

His mother's face smiled kindly: Cats can see spirits, I tried to make you notice when I played with her.

Levi repeated in a hopeful voice: Her?

She nodded: The cheerful one with glasses? Don't you know she has been by your side all the time?

Levi was surprised beyond words.

He asked her to watch over him.

She never abandoned him once.

Even in death...He was her priority.

-You named me joy and saved me when you could ignore me and now I know how I will pay my debt. She didn't wait for Levi's confused question and said: She tied herself to you with a string of fate, with every stitch, it held a wish and a prayer to the one your new friend spoke of.

She was desperate to keep you alive so she put all her hopes in these wishes and entrusted the mighty creator to keep you safe.

Levi knew she was speaking about Hange.

She continued: Her spirit never abandoned you so all I need to do is to give her a form that your human senses can feel and that...I can do.

Levi knew it was a dream yet he didn't try to wake up.

He was afraid to wake up.

The kind dear face of his mother gave him the same loving look he remembers and said: You are a very good man Levi Ackerman and If we crossed paths again in this life or the next ones, I will make sure to keep this friendship...

Now, remember what I will say, I spared a life of my nine lives to your beloved, she shall live for as long as you will, you are tied with a string of fate and never-ending love. You will be her connection to the world of living this time when your life ends, her connection ends, and if you gave up on loving her...

Levi interrupted her with all the feelings swelling in his heart: Never!

Joy smiled as if she knew already: Wait for her rebirth Levi Ackerman, I hope you will find the joy you once felt with her in your remaining years. I shall take my leave.

Before he could ask about what she meant, a strong wind engulfed both of them while Joy's voice rang for the last time: May your life be blessed both of you.

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

Levi woke up feeling a heavy weight on his chest but he didn't open his eyes yet. He had this dream and he wished he could never wake up. He truely hoped for that rebirth the mysterious being spoke of.

A faint touch played with his hair.

It was so soft....so kind.

A dear voice followed it: Wake up Levi...

His eyes opened slowly.

He thought he was still dreaming though.

She could never be here for real...could she?

-I missed you clean freak.

His heartbeats doubled maybe tripled even.

He could barely say: This is a dream...

She smiled as he has always remembered: tough luck Levi, I think you are stuck with me for another round.

Levi didn't find the words at this moment but he did the one thing he regretted not doing all the past years.

He hugged Hange as if he was trying to keep her inside his chest.

She was surprised by what he did but she hugged him even tighter.

-I have been stalking you all the time.

Levi's hot tears fell on her shoulder, she felt them but she didn't want to leave his arms yet, she continued: I am happy you made it alive out of that hell Levi, I am proud of you, I have always been.

His body shook briefly as he let go of his pain, longing, and sadness while Hange kept stroking his hair and his back softly and lovingly.

They didn't know how long they stayed this way.

They felt pure happiness.

They felt pure bliss that night.

Hange could finally take a good look at Levi's face.

-You are still so damn handsome, Levi.

His eyes were still wet as he stroked her cheek tenderly.

-Say something Levi...

He looked into her hazel brown eyes: Don't Go Hange!

Her heart fluttered as she responded: Didn't you hear that you are my lifeline? I am alive again as long as you live, as long as you want me to be.

-Do you mean that...You can't die before I die?

Hange looked surprised then said: well, I think she meant normal death but not accidents, maybe we should tr...

Levi grabbed Hange's hair longingly forcing her closer to him: Shut up four eyes...Shut up...This time you will never go anywhere without me and whatever the reason that may take your life, I will be by your side...I am not making the same mistake again...Got it?

She touched his forehead with hers and whispered: Got it.

The large clock outside announced the time.

Levi's door was opened by Gabi who was calling his name as she opened: Captain Levi who are you talking t...huh?

Hange got up spreading her arms: Gabiiiii!

Falco and Onyankopon were no different from Gabi.

Onyankopon was the one who noticed that the cat was nowhere to be seen: Levi...Is it somehow related to Joy?

Levi nodded: I might be still dreaming.

Falco who was crying and yet trying to soothe the crying Gabi as well said: I...I can see you Hange San, we can't be dreaming at the same time...you...you really are here...it is like Christmas Miracle.

Onyankopon was the one who answered: God does not need a month to give us a miracle Falco then he held both of Hange's hands and kissed them happily: It is a blessing and we can only be grateful we witnessed it.

It was 12:05 am after midnight, the 5th of September, and a rebirth of a never-dying connection and a never-ending love.

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

The King’s precious gem...

For the sweet @marilynmonroefanfics​

Hope you will enjoy this story!

"Here comes King consort (Y/N) of Mirkwood!"

"This social climber? Don't even talk to me about this little nobody!"

"Quiet! If King Thranduil hears you, he will make you pay! The last one who dared disrespect his husband ended up in jail for almost 20 years. Luckily for him, (Y/N) pardoned him. Besides, the people loved him!"

(Y/N) did not care about those gossips on his trail: he knew he deserved his place next to the king. What a long way since he was only a healer!

The young elf can heal since his younger days. Noticed for his gifts, he succeeded in working at the royal court. However, he did not expect to be the friend and confidant of Prince Legolas.

The two young men fought together against the Orcs or any enemy of their kingdom.

One day, (Y/N) managed to save the life of Legolas when the latter fell ill. Worried about his son's safety, King Thranduil hired the best healers of his kingdom to treat him. Only (Y/N) managed to heal the young prince.

Grateful, the monarch allowed him to stay in the court. Then, he started to get interested in this young healer who can play with a knife and medicine. The elf king always found an excuse to spend more time with (Y/N).

Slowly, a romance blossomed between them, much to the surprise of Legolas. 

When the court heard about this affair, it was a shock for many of the royal counselors. Indeed, they took a very dim view of this young commoner. However, the people immediately loved (Y/N) and accepted him as their new king consort.

Since this day, (Y/N) was allowed to sit next to The King. And today, he felt his presence would be helpful for his husband, as the latter was about to greet a delegation of dwarves. This delegation was led by Thorin Oakenshield, the grandson of Thror, King of Erebor. It sounds like his beloved husband would need his help.

It is necessary to say that between Thranduil and the Erebor royal family, there was a feud that lasted for years. 

As he arrived in the throne room, a servant announced:

"His Majesty King Consort (Y/N) of Mirkwood!"

Slightly smiling, the young man saw Thranduil sitting on his throne. 

The monarch talked with a guard:

"Let those dwarves coming here. However, be careful with this Thorin Oaekenshield: I fear he might be like his grandfather..."

"All the guards will be vigilant, Your Majesty!" stated the armored man as he saluted his king before leaving the room.

Thranduil turned his hand and gently gestured to his husband:

"Come here, my love."

"This is what I intended to do, my adored." (Y/N) smiled as he sat on his throne.

Thranduil reached (Y/N)'s hand and held it.

"I am glad that you find some time for me."

"Well, I know this meeting is capital for you. Besides, I would like you to avoid a new feud between our people and the dwarves of Erebor."

The elf king sighed.

"What can I say? You cannot trust dwarves. Especially those who come from under the mountains."

"Who knows? Maybe Thorin would be different..."

Thranduil scoffed.

"I wish I was optimistic like you, my sunflower."

"Let see..."

Suddenly, a guard shouted:

"Thorin Oakenshield and his delegation are here, Your Majesties. Gandalf the Grey is here too!"

"What this wizard is doing here?" grumbled Thranduil.

"We'll see in time..."

Shortly after, the company of Thorin Oakenshield arrived in the throne room. Among the dwarves, (Y/N) noticed a hobbit, which surprised him.

But, much to his delight, he noticed the presence of Gandalf.

"Dear Gandalf, what a pleasure to see you!"

The old wizard politely bowed with a smile:

"The pleasure is reciprocated, King (Y/N)."

As for Thranduil and Thorin, they stared stonily at each other. The Durin dynasty and the Elf King always had difficult contacts. All the story with Smaug did not improve it, and even if Thorin finally regain his throne, he never forgave Thranduil for giving up on his people when they needed help.

"Greetings, o delegation of Erebor. I hope the journey was not too arduous," said Thranduil with a cold tone.

"It went well, Your Majesty," politely said Balin with a respectful bow.

"It is a pleasure finally meeting the brave company of Thorin Oakenshield. The same company who dared fight Smaug The Terrible and gained back their kingdom," added (Y/N) with a gentle smile.

All the dwarves giggled with a blush on their faces. They all heard about King (Y/N) of Mirkwood, known as "The Gentle King" by all realms. Even Dwalin, who could not stand elves, was not able to resist.

The two kings started to negotiate new treaties between their respective kingdoms. Unfortunately, as they were both stubborn, they did not agree on anything.

"WHAT? YOU WANT US TO SELL OUR METAL? THAT IS DAYLIGHT ROBBERY!" yelled Thorin.

"It is ABSOLUTELY out of the question that my people would low the price of our wooden crafts," replied Thranduil with anger.

As for the other dwarves, they stayed silent while watching their sovereign sparring verbally with The Elvenking.

Meanwhile, Gandalf talked with (Y/N).

"I expected that they would fight. I hope you're not annoyed, dear (Y/N)."

"Not really, my dear wizard: I am not surprised by their behavior. They never got along, and I am afraid it will not change."

Suddenly, (Y/N)  noticed Bilbo slowly coming towards him. Gandalf exclaimed:

"Ah, I forgot! I should introduce you to our dear Hobbit! Master Baggins, this is King (Y/N) of Mirkwood. King (Y/N), I would like to introduce Bilbo Baggins to you. Without his talents, this quest would have failed."

Intimidated, the Hobbit awkwardly bowed:

"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."

"It is a pleasure to meet you too, Mister Baggins."

Catching his breath, Bilbo replied:

"I have to say, Your Majesty: when I told all the inhabitants of Hobbiton that I would meet you, they all ask me to check if you were as handsome and benevolent as the songs said..."

The King consort asked, amused:

"And do I meet your expectations, Master Baggins?"

Bilbo brightly blushed before replying:

"The truth is, O (Y/N), the songs did not have enough words to praise your handsomeness and kindness."

"That is very kind of you, Mister Baggins."

Fidgeting his fingers, the Hobbit:

"May I ask you something, O generous monarch?"

"What is it, Mister Baggins?"

"Well... The people of Hobbiton want to have proof that I met you. And I would like to know if you could provide me some evidence."

The King consort smiled:

"Did they ask for something in particular?"

"Not really."

"Then, I think I can help you," replied (Y/N) as he cut one of his dark locks. 

Then, he put in a golden pendant, engraved with his portrait, before handing it to Bilbo Baggins.

"When you will come back home, tell your people that it is the present from the King consort of Mirkwood to the bravest Hobbit."

The Hobbit stared with amazement at this gift. 

He stammered:

"Your Majesty... I have no words to tell you how grateful I am!"

"There is no need, Master Baggins: your actions speak louder than your words."

(Y/N) did not notice that Fili was looking at him with adoring eyes.

Indeed, the nephew of Thorin swore he never met such a handsome man in all realms. It such a shame this perfect elf married Thranduil. 

He came towards (Y/N) and politely said:

"I am pleased to meet you, King (Y/N)."

"The pleasure is mine, Prince Fili."

The young Dwarf prince felt his heart skipping a beat: this voice! It was like hearing millions of birds singing in harmony.

Clearing his throat, he asked:

"Your Majesty, may I ask you something?"

"Of course. What is it?"

To the surprise of all the people gathered in the room, Fili asked:

"Are you aware that your handsomeness is the most deadly weapon of all realms?"

All stopped talking - or yelling - and looked at the scene with surprise on their faces.

As for (Y/N), he was astonished by this question.

"Well, I am not aware that I am dangerous to this point. Could you tell why?"

Smirking, Fili declaimed:

"Like a battering ram,

Your smile makes the walls around my heart crumbling down.

Like a sharpened sword,

Your eyes destroyed the shield that protects my mind.

Like an arrow,

Your voice pierced me to the core.

And like a defeated army,

I surrender to the love I feel for you."

"WHAT?" exclaimed (Y/N).

"How dare you, you filthy dwarf!" yelled Thranduil.

"Do not use that tone with my nephew!" scolded Thorin.

Unaware of the upcoming threat, Fili pursued his declaration:

"It is the truth! You're so handsome, kind, wise, and pure. You deserve better than those arrogant elves!"

"Fili, shut up!" gritted Kili.

Feeling the anger boiling in the eyes of the Elvenking, Gandalf tried to calm the situation.

"Your Majesty, please forgive this young dwarf. He lets the ardor of youth speaking louder than his reason," he said while giving a slight slap on Fili's head.

Balin pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed: not only he had to deal with the short-tempered dwarf king, but he had to handle his carefree prince.

As for Dwalin, he inwardly chuckled: he despised Thranduil, and seeing Fili courting the King consort of Mirkwood amused him.

Meanwhile, Fili claimed his love for (Y/N):

"Come to Erebor, o blossoming orchid. I would make you the happiest prince of all realms."

"Listen, Fili: your gentleness towards me is moving. But, in case you are not aware, I am married and happy!"

"And I would let no one, and especially NO DWARF, courting my spouse!" fumed Thranduil.

When he heard that, Fili had a deadpan expression on his face and declared:

"Then, I know what I have to do..."

"What do you mean?" asked Balin, sweating with dread.

"Why I fear he might say something stupid?" muttered Bilbo.

They were not out of the woods!

"I, Fili, son of Dis, grandson of Thrain, solemnly demand the hand of (Y/N) of Mirkwood as my husband!"

"WHAT?" yelled the dwarves.

"Oh no!" groaned Kili as he facepalmed.

As for Gandalf, he feared that Thranduil would be mad. And it was the case!

"Stay away from my husband, you idiot!"

Thorin snickered, which angered the elf king.

"May I know what causes your hilarity, Thorin Oakenshield?"

"At least, it proves that my nephew has good taste. And perhaps (Y/N) will appreciate our beautiful kingdom, far from your bunches of hypocrites!" replied the latter.

"What do you mean?"

"Either you are deaf, or blind... or stupid. But I find it hard not to notice that your royal boot-lickers are not happy to see a consort that is not from royal lineage!"

"Please, can we go back to the negotiations?" pleaded Balin.

"Not until this idiot stops courting my husband!" yelled Thranduil.

"Oh, shut up, you pointed-ears princess: nobody asked for your opinion!" growled Bombur.

"Guys, stop it!" begged Bilbo.

"Besides, Fili: it is not possible to marry (Y/N)!" explained Kili.

"And why?"

"First of all, he is already married! Secondly, he is an elf from the woods. He does not belong to the mines, neither the mountain!"

"Ah, I did not think about this... Ah, I have a plan! I shall create a beautiful garden on one of the mountain plateaus!"

"Oh, so you can plant something else than a vegetable patch?" said Thranduil with irony.

"You want to fight?" screamed Oin.

All this argument created chaos that gets on the nerves of the wizard.

"CALM DOWN, ALL OF YOU!" ordered Gandalf in a booming voice.

All immediately stood silent, terrified by the charisma of Gandalf.

Once the silence fell on the room, the wizard said:

"I did not try to stop a war for enduring your silly bickerings!"

"But..." protested Thorin.

"DO NOT DARE CONTRADICTING ME!"

As for (Y/N), he decided to put an end to this mess.

He turned to Fili and declared in a soft voice:

"Fili, I would like you to listen to me carefully!"

The latter nodded, afraid of the answer.

"I am all ears, (Y/N)."

"Fili of Erebor, I appreciate your compliments towards me because I feel they were sincere and pure. But for once and all, I am already married to the man I love more than my own life. 

I am aware that I am just a gold digger, a social climber for many royal counselors. A little nobody that does not deserves to wear the crown of Mirkwood. But do I care? No. 

Because all the elven people love me, Legolas helped me, and my husband would never let me go. It is more than enough for me..."

Fili sighed.

"And to say I was thrilled to introduce you to Mum. I am sure she would love you!"

"I have no doubt. But I belong to Mirkwood and his king, against all odds."

"Besides, I am sure that Mother would surely want you alive and not beheaded by a MAD ELF KING because you try to steal him his husband, you jackass!" replied Kili, fed up with his brother's shenanigans.

"Anyway, we sorted this story, and there is nothing to worry about!" wisely said Gandalf.

"I hope so..." coldly stated Thranduil.

A few hours later, the dwarves and the Elvenking managed to find some common ground. Then, Thorin and his company went back to their kingdom, followed by Gandalf and Bilbo.

As he nearly walked out of the door, Fili shouted to (Y/N):

"Dear (Y/N), if one day you come to Erebor, I promise I will show you the garden I create for you. I keep my words!"

"I can't wait to see it, dear Fili!" smirked the king consort of Mirkwood.

Once the delegation left, Thranduil sighed and said:

"Finally, they're gone! I swear to the moon that those dwarves would kill me!"

"Well, you managed to survive. Speaking of surviving, I am surprised that you did not kill Fili on the spot!"

"My dear daffodil, you have no idea how much I wanted to cut off his head!"

Amused by this fit of jealousy, (Y/N) asked:

"But you know I would never leave you, right?"

The Elvenking gently smiled and held the hand of his husband.

"No doubt about you shall ever cross my mind, dear.I know you will never leave me."

He gently kissed (Y/N)'s hand before the pair exited the room. 

On their way, the king asked:

"Now, my waterlily, could you tell me the names of my royal counselors who disrespected you? I think I might need to have a little conversation with them..."

"I assure you, Thranduil, there is no need..."

Thranduil gently shushed his consort by putting his finger on (Y/N)'s lips.

"I have to do it, my love. After all, no one dares to be rude towards the King's precious gem without suffering consequences!"

Slightly blushing, (Y/N) smiled at this compliment. 

And as they went to the dining room, (Y/N) felt like something new arrived in Mirkwood. He believed that one day, the court would not look at him as (Y/N) the little nobody with a crown, but as (Y/N) of Mirkwood, the king consort of this kingdom and the King's precious gem. 

Long live the kings...

Thanks for the reading!

I hope you enjoy the story and I can’t wait to see future requests!

See you soon and take care! 😘🥰😍

[purple-vixen]

Love is a Locked Door - Dick Grayson/Reader

Summary: Damian asks you and Dick to check if there are any monsters in his closet. Somehow the two of you end up locked in there.

_

You have been friends with Dick for quite some time now. He was definitely one of your favorite people in the world. Dick was funny, kind, smart and selfless, and also strong and very, very handsome. Though the latter ones you never dared to say out loud.

You were in love with Dick Grayson, and you kept this secret under lock and key. Making a move never really crossed your mind. You and he were friends for so long that you were convinced he would never see you in the same light you saw him, besides, you were afraid of ruining your friendship. No one understood you like him, there was no way you were going to risk it.

Being his friend meant you were a regular Wayne Manor visitor, consequently being able to witness Dick's crazy siblings. They all adored you, though Damian was the one who became most fond of you. In the beginning he tried to hide it, but eventually stopped doing so. It was very surprising for the batfamily to see Damian getting attached to someone so quickly.

Damian would show you his action figure collection, play violin for you, ask your opinion on his paintings and he introduced you to every single one of his pets. Not to mention the times Damian would show up in your apartment's balcony seeking advice or just someone to talk to and you two would chat and drink tea all night. You always scolded him for not using the door like any other normal person, but after seeing it was not going to work you decided to let it slide.

You saw Damian like the little brother you never had. He was a cute little cinnamon roll. A deadly cinnamon roll that knew how to kill a person with just two fingers, but a cinnamon roll nonetheless. Which is why you were not able to say "No" to Damian when he asked for you and Dick to check if there were monsters inside his bedroom’s closet.

You and your best friend were now inside there, each one holding a flashlight in your hand, pointing the beams to every shelf, hanger, pile of clothes and corners possible. You had to admit, you had the impression something was a bit off, considering that Damian and Jason were also in the room and they still haven't tried to kill each other yet.

Although the closet was spacious, you and Dick accidentally bumped into each other. He grabbed your shoulders to stop you from falling and you could feel your heart beating so fast it felt like it would jump off your chest at any second.

— Be careful. — He whispered softly. You were glad it was too dark for him to see you blushing as he wrapped his strong arms around you.

— Uhm… Found any monsters yet? — Damian anxiously paced back and forth as he watched his oldest brother and you turning his wardrobe upside down.

— Not yet. —

— And if we do, we're gonna kick its ass. — Dick added.

— Hey, (Y/n). —

— Yes, Damian? —

— Thank you for helping me. —

— Anytime, Dami. I'll always be there. — You walked up to Damian just to ruffle his hair, the youngest Wayne shyly grinned in response.

Dick let out a soft chuckle. Little did you know, to Dick Grayson, you weren't just his friend anymore, you became the one he fell in love with. Seeing you and Damian interacting always made his heart melt like crazy. He thought it was so adorable, you were so adorable. It made him want to kiss you even more than he already longed for.

— What is it? — You raised your eyebrows in confusion at your friend.

— Nothing, nothing. I just... remembered a joke. — Dick scratched the back of his neck, cheeks tinting a light tone of pink as the image of being close to your lips secretly ran through his imagination. — D-Don't stand too far from the door, Damian, you have to watch it for us.  — He changed the topic.

— I already am watching. Just keep looking, Grayson. — Damian answered.

— Aren't you too old for the "There are monsters in my closet phase? — Jason was plopped head over heels on the bed, playing Subway Surfers on Dick's phone since his had run out of battery a long time ago. His green eyes glued to the screen, tongue sticking out as he tried to beat his brother's record.

— Jason, take it easy, he's just a kid. — Dick sighed. Being the older one, it always fell to him to cease his siblings' bickering.

— Aren't you too old to be alive? — Damian snapped back to Jason.

— Damian! — Dick rebuked.

— Oh, I spy with my little eye a very ugly monster, he's 4 foot 8 and wearing a turtleneck. — Jason teased.

— And I can see a deadweight spreading germs on my bed.  —

 — Enough, you two! — Dick ordered with authority. — Jason, give me my phone. Since you and Damian will keep on arguing I want it back. —

On his way to his older brother, Jason winked at Damian, who nodded back. As soon as he handed the phone to Dick, Jason smirked at him and then quietly sat back on the bed like nothing happened, hands on his lap with a rather comical angelic face.

— Sorry about that, (Y/n). — Dick changed to a soft tone as he stared at you with puppy eyes.

— It was taking too long, I guess that's a Guinness record. — You joked, trying to lighten up the mood. — Don't worry, I signed up for this when I became your friend. —

— Yeah… Friend. — He mumbled to himself.

You two went back to searching Damian's closet. A couple minutes had passed when the young boy cleared his throat, trying to get yours and his eldest brother's attention.

— Father is requesting me for an emergency. I must go. — He announced.

— Well, I better get going too. Old man's request is an order. And who am I to say no to beating up criminals? — Jason instantly jumped out of the bed and put on his leather jacket.

Words weren't exchanged, yet with just one look you knew what Dick had to say when he turned to you: "I have to leave."

The moment Dick got up and started to walk away, Damian rushed out of his bedroom, leaving the closet door unattended.

— Damian, wait! The...— Before you were able to finish your sentence, a loud slamming sound reverberated. —...door. —

You pointed your flashlight to the doorknob and tried to open it.

— It's broken. Last time Alfred went here to put away Damian's clothes he ended up locked till someone opened on the outside. — Dick commented.

— I know, but it was worth a try. — You shrugged your shoulders. — Talking about Alfred, We could try calling him. I bet he's the only person in the Manor right now. You know, beside us. —

— Great idea! — He took his phone out of his pocket. Dick unlocked his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he found Alfred's name, he barely had time to hit the "dial" button before his phone ran out of battery and turned off. — Jason. — Dick growled, recalling the fact Jason borrowed his phone to play games.

— No prob. I can get my phone, it's in my purse… My god, I'm so stupid. I left my purse! — Dick burst laughing and you elbowed him, only causing him to erupt an even louder chuckle. 

— Well, that's better. — He shrugged his shoulders.

— How can it be better? We're locked in a closet! —

— There was that one time I got stuck inside a garbage truck with the Riddler. —

This time you were the one laughing. That's one of the many reasons you loved him, he always knew how to make you smile no matter what the situation was.

— I bet you loved hearing his riddles all night. —

— Believe it or not, that wasn't even the worse part. I had to soak my suit for an entire week. —

— But seriously, how are we gonna get out? — You asked as soon as the laughter died down.

— To be honest, I have no idea. —

You both tried yelling at the door to see if anybody would show up. Then Dick tried doing the credit card trick he often used to open doors, it didn't work. 

You started avidly searching for something you could pry the door open with. Eventually you encountered Damian's arsenal. The fact Damian kept a stash of deadly weapons inside his closet didn't surprise any of you.

Dick tried picking the lock with a sai and you tried slashing the doorknob with a sword. Dick would have found quite hot the way you wielded the katana and made a perfect dash attack, would have, that was if you didn't almost slice him with the sword on accident. As the last shot, Dick tried to force the doors open by throwing himself at them, the doors were blocked by something neither of you could tell and Dick lightly hurt his shoulder.

— Don't worry. I've been through worse. — Dick reassured.

— Dick, that does NOT leave me less worried about you. You could have a paper cut or a gunshot wound and I'd worry the same. —

— So you're worried about me, huh? — You could see his remarkable smirk dimly lit by the flashlight.

�� I'm always worried about you, you idiot! — Dick's smirk grew wider at your reply. — Gosh, sometimes I wish I could wipe that smirk off your face. — You grumbled as you crossed your arms.

— Then why don't you try it? — Dick snapped in a flirty tone.

You inclined yourself towards him and your lips touched his. It was just a peck, it lasted for a couple seconds but for the two of you it felt like the time froze.

— Did that work? — You lifted an eyebrow. But then rolled your eyes when you realized that his wide smirk had become a full grin.

— I think you should try it again. — Dick pulled you closer to him.

Once again your lips met. This time the kiss was hungrier, needier. If only you knew that kissing him would feel that great, you wouldn't have held back for so long. Now that you were there, so close to him, you were free. And so was he.

Dick always pictured how it would feel like to slide his tongue in your mouth as you tugged his hair. And it was so, damn, good. Better than he ever wondered it could be. Dick felt in cloud nine, sensing goosebumps as your fingertips roamed around his abs. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, your chest was pulled flush against his, yet it still wasn't close enough.

You both pulled away breathless. The room was dimly lit, but as Dick tried to regain his breath, you could see his sapphire blue eyes with the pupils blown out.

— I guess that worked. — You joked.

— I should try being cocky more often. — He replied with that same flirty tone. — So… How long did you…? —

— For a while. —

— Yeah, me too. What took you so long? —

— Well... I was afraid things would get awkward between us. I wasn't sure if you liked me back. —

— Are you kidding me? I've been dropping hints for months! — He chuckled. — After all of this is over do you want to go on a date with me? —

— I'd love to. — You grinned.

You two were about to continue your makeout session when suddenly the creek of the door was heard, the bright light from the bedroom almost blinding your eyes since you got used to the dark from being locked in there. Both you and Dick jumped out of each other, in an attempt to not get caught.

— Okay kids, seven minutes in heaven is over! — Jason mocked after opening the door to your way out. Damian right behind him.

— Seven minutes? We've been locked here for two hours! — Dick protested.

— You say it like you weren't enjoying it. C'mon, just thank us. — He smirked.

— What do you mean by "thank" the two of you? Wait… You planned this? — You questioned.

— It was actually Damian's evil master plan, but I helped him execute it. Ya know, making Dick's phone run out of battery, hiding your purse, pushing the desk in front of the door so that you couldn't bust the door down. That kind of stuff. — Jason shrugged his shoulders.

— And apparently it all went well. — Damian nodded. — TT. Maybe too well. —

— Dami! — You rebuked. — Why did you do that? —

— I figured that if you started dating Grayson, you would have an excuse to visit us more often. — He crossed his arms as his cheeks blushed.

— You're aware that if that happens she will come here to visit just Dick, right? — Jason asked.

— Lay a finger on her and you're a dead man, Grayson! — Damian snarled and grabbed your hand, dragging you along with him as he started running. You couldn't help but chuckle at the fact the 11-year-old was so protective of you.

— Hey! I want my date back! — Dick whined and started running after you.

You rolled your eyes at the two boys as you ran, you knew tonight would be a long night since you first arrived at the Manor.

[ketchupqueenboiiii]

Timari Jan. day 8: childhood friends

@timari-month-event

The Culpa family were Waynes of Europe. They own Culpa Consolidated, a company rivaling Wayne Enterprises in not only their income, but reputation. C.C. owns many establishments across Europe and is spreading to Asia and the Americas. It's is known for their funding of causes, well payed employees, and its 'puts-up-with-no-bullshit' CEO, Felix Culpa.  

Every business person knows the rules of making business with C.C.

1. No Touching

2. No Getting Off-Topic at Meetings

And most of all,

3. No Talking About The Culpa Family

Everybody knows that Felix is a widow, raising his daughter by himself, with only the help of his in-laws and mother. The first time a potential client brought up his family, they ended up getting fired from their company for ruining a business deal. There are no pictures or information on his daughter on the internet, everyone in the building has signed an NDA.

Anyone who thinks that Felix's cold exterior would make him a bad parent is wrong. Felix would sooner stab himself in the eye with a fork than ever treat his little flower as anything less than a princess.

He used to catastrophize to Bridgette, late at night when she was pregnant with Marinette. He was terrified that he'd be a horrible father.

'Just like his.' The bastard who left his mother when he was just a child and then returned later when he was a teen to harass her.

But Bridgette always made sure he understood that he'd never be that man.  That wasn't Felix's problem right now. It was taking Marinette to her first publicized gala.

~

"Little Flower, you remember the rules, correct?" Marinette nodded yes for the third time that night. She understood her papa wanted to keep her safe, she wanted her papa to be safe too, but she's 9! She's a big girl, she can take care of herself.

All of her martial arts teachers made sure of that.

"If someone tries drag me away I yell, if everything gets to much I come find you, don't cause trouble, don't let anyone see Tikki or Kaalki or Trixx. I got it, Papa." Marinette was wearing her favorite fancy dress. She saved it just for today, her first gala. She'd been asking her Papa to go to one since she was 6.

"Okay then, Little Flower, we're here." They step into the Wayne Ballroom.

~

Tim was no stranger to gala's. He had been going since he was a baby. His parents basked in the attention they got from other attendees who coddled him in 'oh look how big you  are.' and 'look at you. Such a handsome young man.' And when the pampering stopped he just spent the rest of the night in the kids room, taking pictures with the camera he smuggled inside.

Tim knew almost all of the kids who regularly attended galas, they understood that he didn't want to play, so they didn't try to wrap him into their mischief or games. It's not that he didn't like having fun, ever kid did. It's was because his parents made it explicitly clear that if he caused a scene, there would be consequences.

So it confused him when he saw a girl his age he didn't recognize. His parent's made sure he could recognize and name anyone important he might ever meet, including their kids.

She wasn't trying to recruit him into a scheme, so he ignored her and it seemed like she was too.

Until she walked up to him.

~

Mari really didn't like how all of the people at the gala kept touching her. When her checks weren't being pinched, her hair was being petted. Thank the kwami her Papa excused her to the kids room.

She started drawing him her picture diary. She didn't finish the page, she had a feeling her night had yet to reach it's climax.

She noticed a boy her age on the other side of the room and decided to introduce her self. Her Papa's protectiveness had left her in need of friends. Her cousin Adrien was not her friend, he let Chloe bully her and told her that she had to be nicer to Chloe, if you're extra nice to her she'll be nice to you, that's what the friendship advise videos Natalie shows me say. At least her Papa let her go to school. It was maximum security and he made sure all of the faculty signed NDAs, but it was something.

"Hi, I'm Marinette!" She had a mix of English and French accent, English from living in London with her Papa and Nan, and French from her conversations with Grand-mère and Grand-père.

The boy hesitated to answer, "I'm Tim." His disinterested tone would have discouraged most other kids but Marinette was determined.

"Hi Tim! What are you doing?" She sat next to him on the couch.

"Taking pictures." He really wanted to tell her he didn't want to play but his parents would have his head if she ran off in tears because of him.

He really didn't like how she was staring at his camera, if she was the 'steal from other kids' type he was ready to throw hands, despite how small they were.

"That's a Nikon D760 DSLR, right?"

Well, that was unexpected.

"Yeah... How'd you know that?" Tim didn't mean to be stereotypical but she didn't look like a camera expert. She looked more like someone likely to be caught on the other end to be honest.

"My Uncle Claude uses the same model, he's a photographer for my Papa."

"Cool," He noticed the book under her arm and couldn't contain his curiosity, "What's that?"

She looked down at her book. Mari didn't usually let other people look in it, it was one of the only things she had from her Maman. It was a magically endless and her Maman had written a letter for her in on the first page. She rarely even let her Papa see it, but Tim was, for what reason she did not know, special. She could trust him, she didn't know why but she could.

"It's my picture diary. I on each page I make a drawing that sums up my day. Here's yesterday's." She opened the book to the page she drew on the day before.

~

They had spent the rest of the night talking about whatever they could. They were so deep into their conversation they didn't even notice their parents walk into the room.

"Tim." Janet's voice surprised him, he froze.

Mari didn't seem to notice his parents, she was distracted by trying to catch glimpse of her Papa in the crowd of parents. "I'll be back in a second, Tim." Great, now his parents could rip into him without worrying about someone hearing.

"What do you think your doing, talking to some random nobody girl? You should be making friends with children of important icons, it's important to make friends with people like that. It will make business better when you're running a company and you have friends in high places." Jack scolds.

"I better see you on better behavior next gala or so help me-" Janet was interrupted by Mari's introduction.

"Tim! This is my Papa!" Well Tim really didn't expect this, and from the looks of it, neither did his parents.

From first look Mari and Felix look nothing alike. But if you stare long enough you see that even though Mari inherited her eyes and hair from her mother, her posture and bone structure matched Felix's. It was clear that Felix had taught his little flower to be a lady, while keeping her personality intact.

"Mr. Culpa! What a surprise! I didn't know this little angel is your daughter?" Janet's personality change would have given an unprepared fool whiplash.  Luckily Tim was neither.

"Mr. and Mrs. Drake, a pleasure as always. It seem my Marinette has made friends with Tim." He smiles a little.

"I hear you'll be staying in Gotham for some time. We should plan play dates for them! Timmy here doesn't have to many friends, it would good for him to spend time with someone his age." Jack proposes.

With a little convincing from Mari's deadly puppy-dog eyes, Felix, Jack, and Janet plan met up times for the kids.

"You're off the hook this time. Don't mess this up." She whispers to him that night at home.

Tim was genuinely happy, for the first time in to long. He actually looked forward to the days ahead. Nothing could mess that up, Mari and Tim had something special, they just don't know it yet.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Harper Alexander x Fem!Reader || Oneshot, [Part 2]

Title: The Fake Love Of My Life [PART 2]

Notes:

I'm just realising Harper and Y/N's relationship is very like Dimitri and Anastasia haha XD

Plot: Fake fiancés, impending murder victims who are actually quite lovely, dancing, jealousy, and engagement rings- oh my!

Warnings: Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhh? Jealousy?

"Wait... you two? Are together???"

The words coming out of an 'honoured guest's mouth, aimed at Harper and I as he comes on into the bar, pressing a kiss to my temple on his way past. The guests, especially the one that rode in with that blonde Harper made off with earlier, do not miss it despite its subtlety - given more for the towns folk around us then anything else, obviously, - . And suddenly the fact that Harper just went off flirting with another woman, hits us both in the face.

Well... fuck- and the rest of the town catches it, too; Freaking out also, on the inside. I glance up unsurely at Harper who is still standing close to my seat, but force a tinkering smile that just makes me look perplexed, and that doesn't meet my eyes.

Which, you know, works. Because if we were a real couple, and I didn't, in fact, know perfectly well that he had to seduce these girls then I would look like this; Oblivious. And that's exactly what the guests think is happening.

Trying not to show my nervousness at the situation, a shield that I've mastered at this point, I decide to play the clueless-type. Thoughtlessly blinking and smiling, I tilt my head at the guy. "Yeah," I hold up the back my left hand, and show off the engagement ring (Which so happens to be Harper's actual mothers ring, so I take very good care of it even if it doesn't totally feel like mine, nor will it ever- seeing at the engagement in the first place is a total hoax) and beam. "We're engaged, actually!"

"Uhhh... " The guy's eyes flicker nervously from me, to Harper where his glance becomes hard. You can tell that he's struggling not to tell me out right what my 'fiancé' has been up to, and is gouging what kind of reaction Harper might give if he does do that right now. Still looking blissfully oblivious, I look between the two with wide, confused eyes. "Dude."

Knitting my brows together, I play my part well. A hand on Harpers arm and a teetering tone to my voice completes the act. "Harper?"

"Ah. Y/N!... " He picks up my hand off his arm, and holds it in his own, playing his own part with a side of guilt sitting beside a big serving of regretful douchebag. He doesn't meet my eyes completely, just flickers over them, leaning his shoulder slightly between me and the guy. "Its nothin', don't worry about it. Okay?"

"Hey, its not nothing!" The guy actually shoves Harper out of his way, and my own blow open wide at it as Harper flashes a dark glare his way, silently. "Girl- " I blink up at this man, who's pointing directly at me after that show of violence and I hand him all my attention. Because oh- wow- direct! Okay, yes? I mean I know he's going to be dead in a couple of hours and he's the enemy but wow. He points behind him with a thumb, at Harper. "This guy's been cheating on you. I saw him go off with my girl friend, Jess- and I know her. The way she was lookin' at him... oof," He shakes his head. "They fucked, or something, man. I'm sorry."

Miss Peaches and Boone flash eachother a smirky, secret glance at that while most people are looking at me for a response or glaring at Harper like some of the guests are, Buckman's watching this whole scene like a show at the theatre and he's on the edge of his seat, Hucklebilly is silently urging me with his eyes to do something already. Like hurry. Hurry up. Hurry! Hurry!!

Dragging my gaze away from Huck's, I make myself slowly look from the guy that 'told me'... to Harper. Before a new expression can take hold on my face, I ask, in a deadly tone; "... what?"

Harper immediately comes forward again, looking desperate and pissed off- though its not me, he's angry at. "I don't know what he's talking about, Y/N, I swear- "

I get up from my seat and he steps - stumbles? - back at the terrible glare on my face. As terrible as I can muster, when I want to laugh at his reactions. You know? Sometimes this pretending thing can be a lot of fun. Taking a deep breath, I take off the ring he gave me, and under the gaze of the man that told me Harper was 'cheating'- I hand it back to him. Then I clear my throat, as he looks from it... to me. And does 'heartbroken' so well. "... Um- whether you did, or not. I- I cant wear this... u-until, I know. You know? Um... sorry."

Then I manage to slip past him and out the bar door, into the empty square before a smile fights onto my face and giggles topple out of me. I collapse against the side of the building, letting the laughter come out as I cover my face. Oh god... the looks on Harper's face! Oh, he was good.

He must have run out after me a moment later - after the appropriate amount of staring heartbrokenly at my empty seat, I'm sure, - because then he's poking around the corner, finding me, and enfolding his hands into his pockets as he saddles lazily up to me.

But he does not fool me- he's pretty damn amused too, I see, as when I glance around my fingers; Theirs a grin on his handsome face.

Sighing, I calm down and press my head back into the wood. "That was good! You did well!- Coulda cried, though. I mean, you were being left by me, after all."

Rolling his eyes, making me giggle again, Harper sets his jaw. "You sure think a lotta yourself, don't ya?" His slow drawl is back to normal, no longer desperate like he was acting before. Perfectly, annoyingly shirty. He leans in towards me, giving me a raised eyebrow-look. "I didn't see you cryin', neither, Y/N. Not even one, stray, tear."

"Hm. Not even I am that good an actress, Harper."

He smirks back at me, and for a moment , before returning to his straight standing position, and sighing. He looks back at the building, his mouth twisted into a displeased, put-out frown. "Well, I guess we're fightin', now... Should we be yellin'?"

Scrunching up my nose, suddenly tasting something gross in my mouth, I scowl at him. "Do we want to be the kinda couple that screams and yells?"

"Well, it is just an act."

"Yeah, but still."

"Hmmm... " Harper, looking dissatisfied with my objections, looks away again and thinks. "Okay. How about we just say we fought, then? You can jog in place for a minute and look like you just ran a marathon or something when we get back in."

Gaze flickering up to him, my eyes narrow. "Oh I am only running, if you let me squeeze your cheeks to make it look like you got red-faced."

He does not look like he likes that idea, at all. "... Okay. What if I didn't find you, then? 'N instead I walked around looking for you for a while. You can go back in now and I'll wait out here for a while before comin' back in."

"Yeah, lets do that." I push off the wall and ready myself to go back in their, looking all down, when Harper pulls something out of his pocket and tries to give it back to me. As soon as I realise that its the ring though, I shake my head good naturedly and push his hand back. "You hold onto it, until this is all over. I don't want it falling out of my pocket." It was his mothers, so its important, and if anything in this relationship is real its our shared devotion to keeping that ring safe. I would die if I lost it.

Harper stalls for a moment, displeased by my response if I didn't know better, before shoving it and his fist back into the pocket of his trousers. "Alright then... Until this is all over."

"Right." I assure him, awkwardly. Before patting his shoulder and passing him by. "See you back in there!"

"Yep."

~

Its nearly 45 minutes before Harper comes back into the bar, a sullen look on his face still, like normal. I look away almost immediately, pointedly- returning to the conversation I'm having with Miss Peaches. "... As I was saying, yeah we are having nice weather toda- "

The guy from earlier - the one that had informed me of Harper's 'infidelity'. I think his name was Matt? - suddenly pushes out of his seat a few tables over, seeing Harper come in also and saddles right beside my chair. I cut off again, and look up to him. Hello? Mister?

Not looking at me, rather glowering Harper's way, Matt offers his hand to me. Shoving it right in front of my face. I blink, surprised at its presence and the gesture. "Miss? Would you like to dance?"

"Uh- " What? I look from him, with wide, surprised eyes to Miss Peaches who just looks pretty darn amused at it - in other words, entirely unhelpful, - , as I feel quite put on the spot and unsure. What is he doing?? The whole room seems to still once again, noticing the scene that Matt is creating, and I glance Harper's way.

His sullen look has just begun to look hazardous to anyone standing near to him and I fight not wince under its power, myself.

Matt breaks his gaze from its locked position with Harper's, and looks down to me; His gaze softens, a bit, and I understand that he's only trying to make me feel better. And if this whole thing wasn't fraudulent in the first place I would probably be grateful. So letting out a careful breath, letting go of my nerves and surprise at being put in a position like this, I place my hand in his and let him guide me up to my feet.

Oh god- now I just really want everyone to stop looking, at us. At me. Stop, stop, stop-

A booming clap sounds throughout the room, and just like that everyone's attention is stolen clean away by our enigmatic mayor, who's stood up and grinning. "What a good idea! Go on everyone, lets have ourselves a good old-fashioned hoedown. Grab a partner and get to the dance floor!"

As everyone immediately starts liking that idea and getting up from their seats, and music starts play from the little wooden stage in the corner, I let myself relax. Thank god. Bless that man. Long live the mayor.

"Hey, so, are you okay?" I'm broken from my relieved thoughts, as Matt walks me to the middle of the dance floor and guides me in front of him- setting one hand on my waist while the other holds my hand. His words are sweet and low, so no one else really hears, and damn- I'm going to sure be mournful when he dies. Even if he is a yank.

Offering him a small, strong smile as we begin to dance to the reasonably paced guitar music, I set the hand of mine that isn't holding his securely up onto his shoulder. He's just wearing a sleeveless under shirt, so I feel a bit of the skin of his shoulder which is odd but I've long since given up holding new-comers to any of the same expectations we have. "I'm holding up, thank you. I just never thought he would do something like that... its so not Harper... "

Speaking of Harper, I glance around the room slowly to see where he is now, and catch his glare from the side of the room with Miss Peaches. Evidently she's asking him if he wants to dance with her while I'm busy, but he seems unresponsive. Too busy playing jealous.

I quickly look away. Matt shrugs. "Yeah well, you can never really tell with douchebags. Sometimes they're real nice guys, until they aren't."

"Yeah... I guess so... "

"Anyway," Matt suddenly lets go of my waist, carries my hand up to above our heads, and spins me. A cant help the delighted giggle that tumbles out of me at the move, my skirts flying around me before he pulls me back to his body. He flashes me a grin back, and as the music's tempo speeds up, so do we- the dance becoming faster, and more fun. "Lets see if I can distract you from that bullshit for a little while."

Smirking back to him, I feel like forgetting about who I'm supposed to be, now - engaged and heartbroken, - in order to just have some fun. Because damn, it has been a long time. Yes at parties I dance with men - Lester, Hucklebilly, Buckman. Even Granny, though she isn't a man, - but that's not really the same. That's like dancing with my brothers, or my father - or mother, - . Theirs nothing quite like dancing with a man you don't know, not because you want him to court you or because he wants to court you, but just for fun.

"Lets see if you can."

~

A couple of hours later I finally sit back down again, a beam on my face and my cheeks warm - aching for a glass of water or twelve, - as Matt excuses himself to go to the bathroom- but promises that he'll be back. "Take your time, I'll be here!"

He smiles, patting my shoulder comfortingly, before turning and heading off out of the building.

Its a few moments later, after I've acquired a drink of water and am sipping at it at the bar, that Harper slips into the seat next to me. I turn and- immediately, catch myself. I was about to smile, and ask him how his night is going.

But I remembered just in time that I am supposed to be mad at him, and take a deep breath; Looking away again.

Without saying a thing to me, he orders himself a shot of whiskey- a heavily grumpy look on his face. I glance at him, wondering what's going on in his head and if he's had any fun at all tonight or if he's been preoccupied acting like a jealous bastard the whole time. I worry that its turned his actual mood sour.

I hope not.

"So... " He finally speaks, still not looking at me. "You been havin' a good time, with that yank?"

"Um... " Glancing around us, I see a group of the yankee girls nearby within hearing distance, and look nervously at Harper. Because for whatever reason, I get the inkling that he isn't acting anymore, and I don't want him thinking that anything that comes out of my mouth, is true. "That's... not, really, any of your business- is it?"

Finally he looks at me, and theirs a pissed off gleam in his brown eyes as he looks down on me. "Oh yes it is. You're my fiancé, ain't ya?"

My jaw nearly damn well drops. Has he been drinking before now?? I didn't see him dancing at all throughout the night. What's wrong with him? Theirs definitely something odd about what he's saying; How he's looking.

Not even Harper is this good of an actor.

"Harper... " Lowering my voice and leaning closer, I tug gently at the side of his clean white shirt. "Are you alright? Do you want to leave and talk?- "

"What's happenin' here, huh?" Oh for fucks sake- I turn to see Matt suddenly back, on my other side and standing over both Harper and I- but turning his stony, protective, angry look on my 'fiancé', obviously. I mean, I appreciate the efforts but you really have the worst timing, Mathew-

Harper doesn't back down even an inch from the more imposing figure that is my dancing partner for the evening. In fact he just pulls up his whiskey to his lips, letting his hand dangle lazily before him as he raises his brows at Matt. "I'm talkin' to my lady, a'course. What are you doin'?"

"Oh, your lady?" Matt scoffs, and I feel like red lights should be flashing and alarms should be blaring. Their tones are dangerous. "First of all, this is the twenty first century man so she has a name. Second of all- did you mean Y/N or the girl two seats down from you?"

Oh, hell. My eyes widen as that particular dig leaves Matts lips and, knowing Harper's already prickly personality, turn slowly to him. A flickering of a tiny - dangerous, - smile flashes across his lips as he nods and looks away, before taking the whole contents of his glass in one go. Then he turns to me - to me! - , an only marginally softer look in his eyes. "Y/N, lets go."

"Uh- " I cut myself off, unsure of how to respond. He continues to look at me, waiting impatiently for my response, and Matt looks swiftly down at me before picking up for, me.

"Y/N's not going anywhere with you if she doesn't want to, man. So back off."

"My apologies, was I talking to you?" Harper turns his gaze up to Matt again, and my eyes tear around the room for some help, but for the first time today no one, is stopping to witness the drama.

Hell, violence could be ensuing, and no one here cares?? Seriously?! How drunk is everyone?!

"No, but someone has to be good to Y/N."

Harper doesn't flinch but you can tell that he wanted to, as one of his eyes slowly squints, and the frown lines in his face deepen. "... do you wanna take this outside?"

Immediately I whip around to face him fully. A hand slamming down on the table between us and I am deeply concerned. "Harper do you even see the size of this man!?"

"Love to, but I don't feel the need to remedy all my problems with violence, mate." Matt smirks, crossing his arms. And first of all, thank god, but also- the look on Harper's face at hearing that is horrifying. How could this man have made things worse, by not punching Harper in the face?! Now I kind of wish they had gone outside.

"Okay!" Before Harper can respond, or take out the sharp throwing object I know he has in his pocket, I get up out of my seat and back off from them both. "You both need to stop this, before it becomes a dick measuring contest. First of all, Matt, I had a really lovely night so thank you, but I'm leaving now, so goodbye. Harper- " The moment I turn to him, I stall, and calm down. And I mean it, when I say; "I'll talk to you, later."

Then I turn around and head for the door so that I can walk out into the night and go home- when I suddenly hear a horrible hitting noise and a crash, followed by gasps and Buckman yelling 'HELL'- and whip right back around. My eyes blow open wide the moment that I see Matt, fallen into a chair behind him holding his jaw, and Harper shaking out his fist, still managing to look tough even as his fist must be killing him, looking down on Matt. I gape, about to say something - or yell something, - but Harper suddenly turns to me, and grabs my hand on his way storming through the horrified crowd and out of the building. I just try to keep up so he doesn't tear my arm off.

Once we're down the road a bit, I manage to rip my arm back away from him, and get glare in response. I tough it out, though, and scowl back at him. "Harper what the hell?? I mean I know we're kind of invested in our scheme but you're acting weird, now. And- you- you hit him! Why would you do that??? What is wrong with you??"

"'It's what my 'character', woulda done," He almost growls, through grit teeth.

"You really don't have to go that far, Harp!" He really, really, doesn't!

Rolling his eyes up into his skull, I watch as he finally takes in a deep breath- hands on his hips, bracing himself. After a moment of silence, and I'm thinking he's calming down now thankfully, his gaze flashes to me and I see clearly that he's still burning.

Reaching over to me, he once again takes my hand in his and drags me off. Not quite so angrily this time, so I don't fear that my arm will be removed from my shoulder at all at least, but I'm still totally lost. Where are we going, now??

We don't go far, as it turns out, and he quickly presses me against a wall between two houses close by to where we were, and in the darkness I can just make out a clearer look entering his eyes, finally. Like his sight is finally, - finally, finally! - not so clouded by fury anymore, as he breathes in fresh night time air. Silently, I watch, waiting for him to speak first.

Is he okay??

Taking his hands off of me, he runs a hand back through his hair, and finally lets his shoulders relax. "... Okay. Okay. I'm fine, now. Sorry for makin' you uncomfortable."

"Are... are you sure you're alright? Do you want to talk about what just happened??" Because I definitely think we should-

"My character just got away from me, that's all. I got too into it... I apologise." Yeah, he says that, but he still isn't looking me in the eye. Everywhere but my eye, actually. And an idea occurs to me that makes my heart start to beat louder, in my ears. Carefully, I reach up, and lay one hand on his shoulder while the other curls up into his hair.

I literally feel his body relax more, under my touch. A sigh escapes him, that I'm sure he would've preferred me not hear. So he looks stony, again.

Letting go of my bottom lip, as I had nervously been chewing it, my gaze flickers up to his face. "Um, would it help, if... my character, were to, 'forgive', you?" Still against his better judgement I'm sure, Harper perks up, at my suggestion. I set him with a focused, serious look. "Because she does. She knows that you have to touch other girls and its not because you want to, and in fact it has nothing to do with her. Me."

"... yeah?"

I nod. "Yes." Giving him a smile, I start to take my hand away from him and step away. "So don't fret! We're okay. Still engaged, and in 'love'- "

Suddenly, before I can get away completely, Harper grabs my hand again and tugs me back- and further, to his lips, where he presses a passionate kiss. A moan is torn out of me immediately and my eyes quickly fall shut, reciprocating before I can think better of it.

This happens a lot, now; The kissing. It helps us get into character, I suppose. Makes us feel like two people who are actually in love, rather then Y/N and Harper who just pretend to be. And it feels really, really good.

He pulls back not even an inches worth of space for a moment, solely for air, and my eyes crack open a tiny bit; Enough to see him gulping down air so he can come back. "Harper... "

He presses right back quickly, guiding me forward back into the wall behind me. Wood digs into my spine but I cant bring myself to care, too wrapped up in the body of the man kissing the hell out of me and my endeavour to taste him back, and maybe gouge a moan or two from him. Because I want to hear it. I don't know why, but I need to. I feel like all I ever see from him is spite and crankiness and I need to know he has more, for me. Especially, for me.

Tugging gently on some of his hair seems to win me what I wanted, as I swallow the vibrations of his groans. Then I slowly pull back, my heels finding the ground again and opening my eyes delicately, and look up at him as he sighs; Understanding that its over as he still leans over me.

Tilting my head, breathing slowly in order to return to former breathing patterns, I catch his gaze. "... Feeling better?" My voice is low, talking carefully as I look up at him from beneath my eyelids.

"... almost."

"Hm?" What else can I do? I'm just wondering what else it could possibly be that he, or his character, wants from me when to my surprise Harper slips down to one knee before me. My eyes widen slightly, looking down at him and wondering what he is doing. "Harp? Your knee hurt?"

He takes my hand in his and, not looking me in the eye as my heart starts to beat unbelievably louder- the sound reverberating hot in my ears. "I just figured, that, our engagement is missin' something."

Oh... Harper takes his mothers ring back out of his pocket, and slips it back onto my fourth finger; Where it now lives. "Y/N L/N, we've known eachother a long time now, basically our whole lives... unfortunately, I think I've only just cracked the surface of what their is to know when it comes to you... and I'd sure like to spend the rest of my life trying to learn the rest."

"Aw... Now, I kinda regret that we didn't do this in front of people. You did that really, well. And telling me my last name! Nice touch." I tell him, because its true, but adding a little joke because I have to as I slip my hand out of his grasp and examine the ring back in its place. My ring.

It really is pretty.

"I ain't done." My eyes snap back to Harper's and my cheeks heat up even more then they had been already, and close my mouth quick.

"Oh."

Flashing a little smile that looks so good on him, he tilts his head. I nearly forget that this is fake. "Will you marry me?"

Breath hitching, because that is the softest, least disapproving-of-me thing he has ever said and it makes my stomach drop- In a good way. But I hope that he does not see how mushy he's made me- because that might complicate things.

He might think I'm falling for him... And I'm not...

I try to keep it out of my voice as I respond, even as a gentle smile warms onto my face. "Yes, Harper Alexander... I will marry you. Now get back up here."

He smirks and gets up, and I lean up to press a quality kiss to his lips, in thank you. When I pull back, he picks up my left hand in his and I catch a serious and forlorn look cross his face as he looks at the ring. His voice is quiet but firm when he speaks. "... I don't want you ever taking this ring off, again. I didn't care for that, at all."

"Well it was just for show... "

His jaw clenches. "I know."

"Hey- " I grab his arm, pulling him gently but abruptly from whatever angry place he was disappearing back into, and flash him a comforting grin. "How about we don't go back to the bar. We can just go back to my house, and avoid the headache. Alright?"

"I'd like that." He grins, a lovely grin that we very rarely see on on him anymore unless he's faking it, a hand hovering over the small of my back as we turn and start heading off to my house.

[certifiedskywalker]

Under the Stars - Legolas

While traversing Middle Earth, on a quest to deliver the One Ring to Mount Doom, you and the Fellowship try to move stealthily. Some are better at sneaking around than others. For instance, you seem to struggle in masking your feelings for a certain Elf. The rest of the Fellowship can so easily see the affection you hold for Legolas while you believe you’re being quite slick. Turns out, you’re the only one that was fooled.

AN: This is purely a selfish writing endeavor. I’ve been stressed and watching the LOTR and Hobbit movies to relax...I forgot how much I love Elves….Human!Reader X Legolas...

“I’m sick of smelling of grass and grime!” Merry announced. As he spoke, he dropped his cloak on a patch of nearby dirt beside the fire Boromir had begun to build. Silently, you hoped for Aragorn and Legolas to return with supper soon. Once the Hobbits’ stomachs were full, they would quiet.

Legolas had described them as ‘children’ to you one evening: once fed, quick to bed. It had been one of those first nights, back when you were too nervous, too giddy, to sleep. You would stay up with Legolas as he took watch. Despite what Gimli had told you about Elves, you found Legolas to be good company during those restless nights, a great comfort even. He would tell you stories from the centuries he had lived through and you would listen, hang off every word. When you finally did fall asleep, rare as it was those first days, it was because you felt safe with Legolas by your side.

If you dwelled too long on the memory, your face would warm with longing. How simple it had been before your heart began to complicate matters. Luckily, the Hobbits, hungry and noisy as ever, pulled you from your thoughts.  

“We’re all sick,” Sam sighed as he took a seat next to haggard Frodo. “But we’ll be back at the Shire soon. Drinking and eating Rosie’s lovely supper roast.”

Boromir scoffed and shook his head at the Hobbit’s squabbling. “We have many more weeks of travel yet. Do not kid yourselves.”

Pippin frowned and plopped down beside a freshly disappointed Merry. This was the first time any of them had been away from the Shire, from their home; especially for so long. Due to that new homesickness, Boromir’s true words hit hard for the Hobbits. You gave them a sad smile before looking to Boromir. You bumped your shoulder against his to get his attention. 

“Take it easy on them,” you said softly. “They’re not like us, not ready to leave home to save it at a moments notice.” 

“They’re not fighters, you mean,” he countered as he struck the flint and steel. Sparks shot out from the metal and stone. After another strike, small flames began to burn. With a sigh, Boromir set his tools aside and sat back.

“You could change that, you know.” Boromir stole a glance at you, an eyebrow raised at your words. “You could teach them to fight, to defend. It would make things easier.”

“Easier?” 

There was an edge to the man’s voice that caught you off guard. It was the same tone his father had used with you and Faramir when the pair of you tried to get Boromir to ditch his ‘steward prince’ duties as children. You cringed that familiar cruelty. Boromir was annoyed and you, already tired from the days travels, were not equipped to handle his irritability. You started to stand, brushing the dirt off of your trousers. 

“Easier?!”

“It was just a suggestion, Boromir,” you explained, already starting to turn your back to the man. As you started to take steps into the forest, to find Aragorn and Legolas, Boromir let out a hearty laugh. 

“It would be easier if you did not fawn over our dear Elf companion as well, but you seem to be falling just the same.”

You stopped dead in your tracks and felt your skin, every inch of it, warm with embarrassment. Slowly, you turned to meet Boromir’s bright eyes and knowing smirk. His expression resembled his younger self, the boy that affectionately tease you as you trained with Faramir. Growing up in Gondor with Boromir had toughened your hide to his ribbing; but this struck a chord. This was not the good-natured jokes you were used to. 

Despite the truth in his teasing, Boromir’s tone was changed, twisted into something kissed by darkness.

“I know nothing of which you speak,” you replied through slightly gritted teeth. You had gone so long without anyone seemingly noting your admiration of Legolas that you were clambering for a defense.

“Oh deary me,” Gimli, groaned. You looked over at the Dwarf and saw his saddened eyes. Behind him, the Hobbits watched, wide-eyed, as you seemed to seethe. 

“Everyone here sees it,” Boromir continued, “except for possibly the Elf and yourself. Blind to your own feelings and you talk of making things easier.”

Your heart leapt in your chest. For a moment, your thoughts are clouded by Legolas. 

His blonde hair, flicking with the wind as you walked towards destiny, towards Mount Doom. Those first nights spent chatting about adventure. His eyes, soft as he explained to you the significance of his braids and recounted the sternness of his kingly father. For the past few days, when he wasn’t scouting ahead, he was walking by your side, letting his hand brush ever-so slightly. In those moments, you tried your hardest to keep calm, stay steady while Legolas seemed wholly unfazed by the incidental touches. 

If anything it was the Elven prince who was blind, oblivious to how his mere presence was driving you mad with want. No, Boromir was wrong. You were not blind to your feelings, you were just ignoring them. Or, at least, trying to ignore them. After all, how could an Elf like Legolas, beautiful and immortal, want you?

“You are mistaken, Boromir,” you snap coldly. “I have no...inclination towards the Elf. Perhaps it is you, who is blind.”

Boromir shook his head and sighed. “You are grasping at thin air, Y/N. Even from the low spots at which they stand, the Hobbits can see your fonding eyes towards the archer.”

“Hey!” Merry stood in a flash, “we see lots of things.”

“So you agree with him?” You asked, turning to the four halflings perched beside the fire. Frodo was stunned in silence, as was Sam who had even stopped nibbling at his lembas. You imagined such human drama rarely reared its head in the Shire. Merry and Pippin, however, used to causing chaos, nodded. 

“I mean, it’s the truth. Is it not?” Pippin asked, a hopeful half-smile on his lips. Despite his kind expression, you felt a bolt of hot anger in your heart. 

“Not!”

“Aye, the man is right,” Gimli stood before you. Stout and strong, he looked up at you with true Dwarven candor. “Everybody sees how you look at ‘im. I don’t begin to understand it, the pointy ears and all, but-”

“Neither do I.”

The words left your lips edged with a saddening truth you were not expecting. You didn’t understand how you could fall for someone so hard, so swiftly. Let alone someone who was an Elf, an entire world away from yours. The thought brought stinging tears to your eyes. To hide them, you turned your back to the camp and started to walk into the surrounding forest. 

As you left, you heard Frodo finally speak up. 

“It feels that we have just begun and we are already crumbling.”

For a moment, you’re tempted to stay. Whatever feelings you had for Legolas, they were not worth tarnishing the Fellowship. But the thought of facing Boromir, the others, after they so plainly set your heart’s affection on display made you feel ill. So, you kept walking.

You walked until you found a clearing lined with grand, old trees. They towered but their branches did not dare to obscure the stars that shone down. Moonlight gleamed along the green blades of grass in the center of the clearing. The glow was soft, inviting, and you felt drawn to it.

When you moved to stand in the light, you found yourself looking up. Away from the fire light and pyres of Minas Tirith, the stars shone with abandon. Never before had you seen anything as breathtaking. Though, that wasn’t quite true.  

You had seen Legolas in the heat of battle: graceful and deadly, slinging arrows with startling accuracy. From the first moment you saw him at the Council of Elrond, you knew there was a fire beneath his skin and you felt honored to see it burn in battle. You had seen his gentleness too as he studied particular flowers along the trail. As you walked with the Fellowship, you would steal sneaky glances at the Elf when he wasn’t at your side.

Apparently, your awe and stolen looks had not gone unnoticed. You winced as you thought back to the camp, to Boromir’s borderline cruelty. He had seemed different ever since you left Rivendell, ever since he learned of the Ring. Could a little band of gold, a promise of power, change a man so quickly?

You pushed the thought from your mind and tried to focus solely on the stars. In the silence, there was a brief peace. Worries slipped away, melted under the light of the Moon. The next day would come and bring fear with it. For this moment, you closed your eyes to better savor the quiet and its strange joy.

“Stars never seem to shine as brightly outside Mirkwood.”

Your eyes opened wide at the sound of Legolas’ voice. When you craned your neck and saw the Elf standing at the edge of the tree line, your breath caught. In the starlight, he looked all the more fair and handsome. His eyes, darker in the limited light, met yours and he dipped his head.

“I did not mean to frighten you,” he raised his open palms and approached you. 

“No, you didn’t, I...I wasn’t expecting you.” You tore your attention away from him and looked back to the sky. It took all you had to keep your breathing steady as Legolas moved to stand at your side. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his strong shoulders, his chest, so close. Why must he stand so near?

“You were expecting someone else then?”

“I-I,” you looked back to him and saw that he was looking at the stars. Though your floundering reaction to his question did not go unnoticed. The slightest of smiles played on his pale lips. “No. No one.”

You moved your eyes back to the stars in the hopes of recovering some of your dignity. A sudden fear flooded your senses. Had he returned to camp with Aragorn? What had the others told him? You thought back to Boromir’s attitude and tensed. Before you could ask after anything, Legolas spoke up.

“Tonight, they remind me of home.”

You swallow hard before you dared to look his way. “What do you mean?”

“The stars,” he whispered, turning his gaze to yours. There was a gentleness in his features that made your chest warm. “And the company.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. “I fear I don’t understand.”

“You remind me home,” Legolas replied smoothly. You let out a forced laughed and frowned at him. Elves, by nature, were poetic but did Legolas did not see how his words could have a double meaning? He must see the pain on your face, the desperate hope his words gave you. Everyone else did, apparently.

“How could a human remind an Elf of his woodland home?”

“You are beautiful.” Legolas didn’t miss a beat with his reply.

“Legolas.” When his name fell from your lips, it was heavy and full of warning. Yet, the Elf seemed to care less as he turned his eyes back towards the sky. Silently, you cursed yourself for thinking he meant anything by the compliment. 

“When I was younger, my father would bring me to the canopy to study the constellations. He would tell me the stories that accompanied them.”

Frown still firmly planted in your expression, you commented, “that doesn’t sound like the grim man you described to me.”

“He could be bitter, but beneath the asperity there was always love.”

His words stirred up for you an image of Boromir. While you heart still stung from his teasing, you could not forget the childhood you shared with him. The boy you once played with, trained with, alongside his younger brother, was still there. Buried beneath the hardened, stubborn man, but he was there all the same. There was hope for him yet.

“Love endures,” you added softly. The chilled night air gave your breath the form of a small cloud. Instinctively, you pulled at your cloak and fastened it a bit tighter around your shoulders.

“It endures all of Time and wild weather,” Legolas agreed. His eyes found yours once more and, with a look of concern, he leaned close to you. “Are you cold?”

“No, I’m not, I…”

You trailed off, unable to think clearly with Legolas so near and looking at you like that. His eyes were kind, framed by the long, fine strands of his blond hair. With his dark brows furrowed together with worry, he looked older despite the Elven gift of eternal youth. How tempted you were to reach out and pull his lips to yours. Your fingers twitched and itched to do so, but you forced your hands to stay still. Bitterly, you imagined that those in the Fellowship would smirk at you if they could see how you were acting.

“Y/N, you sh-”

“Did they tell you?”

Legolas cocked his head to the side like a confused hound. “Tell me what?”

“The Fellowship did they...I am tired of being played for a fool,” you pressed. “I have been parading about as if I have masked my every feeling yet I could be read as plainly as any tome. I refuse to believe you, with your Elven sight, could not see what mere men and Hobbits have.”

At you plea, Legolas’ straightened his posture. While he leaned towards you no longer, his eyes remained soft and as watchful as they ever were. You took in his furrowed brows and slight frown before pressing a hand to your forehead with shame. In an attempt to calm yourself, you hung your heavy head and took a deep breath.

“I, I am sorry, Legolas. I think it’s time I had some rest.”

With your hand hiding a portion of your downturned face, you did not see him move closer to you until you saw the toes of his boots before your own. Still embarrassed because of your outburst, you did not dare to move. Only when you felt slender, warm fingers wrap around your wrist did you allow your hand to fall away. When you lifted your head, you were met with Legolas’ eyes focused solely on you.

“Do not apologize, you are right. They did not tell me; they do not need to. I have seen the feelings of which you speak and I am sorry that I have been so quiet.”

A breath was hard for you to find, but when you did you used it to ask the question balanced on the tip of your tongue. “What do you mean?”

“I mean to say there are many differences between your world and mine. I should have made my feelings more clear.”

Legolas’ grip on your wrist loosened slightly and you thought he was going to let go. Your stomach dropped with the dread of an affection gone unrequited. Then, just as you felt true doom, Legolas joined his hand with yours. Your gaze fell to watch how his fingers entangled with yours. Nervous, you looked back to Legolas and found there was a tender smile playing on his lips. 

“At night I do not sleep but with these long evenings, with you slumbering so near, I have wished to. I have lived through many centuries and never once wanted to sleep. Never once did I see a beauty and longed to hold it dear until I met you.”

“Legolas,” you whispered, breathlessly, “I now truly feel like a fool.”

He lifted his free hand, the one not holding yours, to your face. Light as feathers, Legolas’ fingertips traced along your cheek. The touch sent a shiver down your spine that you did not even try to hide. There was no point now. Everything was clear for everyone to see. You did not want to hide from Legolas any longer.

“Perhaps we are both fools,” he said softly. This close to Legolas, even in the dim light of the stars, you could see the depth of blue in his eyes. The itch in your fingers returned as the smell of him flooded your senses: beech bark and pine. Before you could even think of holding back, your hand reached up and pulled his lips to yours.

Legolas was quick to respond. Both his hands moved to cup the sides of your face and he moved his lips eagerly along yours. Your hands gripped his armor, holding him close. Every feeling you had held in poured out into the kiss. Each stolen glance and longing stare finally coming to a head. Still clinging to him desperately, you pulled away from Legolas to catch your breath.

Slightly winded, you rested your forehead against his, sharing the air between you. Relieved of your worries, you felt a surge of bravery overtake you. Laughing lightly, you pulled away to meet Legolas’ gaze. 

“I wonder if the Fellowship saw that coming.”

Legolas smiled at your joking, the widest smile you had seen from the Elf since meeting him. With his hands still holding your face, he brought you in for another kiss; less needy than the last but all the more passionate. Warmth surrounded you both but you hungered for more. Just as you were about to pull on Legolas’ armor, you heard someone clear their throat.

Immediately, you and Legolas pulled away from each other. You both looked over to see Aragorn, smiling smugly at the two of you as he walked out from the shadows created by the looming trees. A new sort of embarrassment rushed through you as the Ranger took in the sight of you and the Elf. You could only imagine what you both looked like with lips kiss swollen, chests heaving, and all wild eyed. 

“I can not speak for the rest, but I saw this coming.” 

You snuck a glance at Legolas and saw his pale cheeks had pinkened. Never before had you seem him flustered and you felt overwhelmed with pride that you had played a part in it. The starlight made the Elf’s features all the more pleasing. You wanted to kiss him again but, before you could reach for Legolas, Aragorn spoke up again.

“Come now, you’ve worried the party with your extended absence. And the Hobbit’s have supper ready.” As he turned to walk back, he added, “there will be time for that when our journey comes to an end.”

You and Legolas start after the promised king. Not before sharing a look that told the other that neither of you would be willing to wait that long. For so long you had both waited, danced in silence around the other. Now, there was no holding back.

[angel-tries-to-write]

New life from the darkness: Light reveals the end

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan Rating: Teen and up Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Hanji Zoë, Eren Jäger x Mikasa Ackerman Word count: 3271 Genre: fluff, humor

A very free form in a very alternate universe, where Eren actually did nothing wrong, titans were defeated somehow else and all my main ships are real, alive and happy.

The day was exceptionally hot, to the point when even the slightest movement was making people sweat incredibly. Yet the work had to be done, but everyone was seeking even the slightest possibility of getting cooler, so when Connie got rid of his shirt, his friends followed his idea. It seemed great at the beginning, lack of clothes really helped to bear the temperature, but it quickly turned out that basically every person in this squad was incredibly good looking, so everyone who had any crushes, kept staring at them, while they should be working. Levi, being a master in hiding his feelings and pushing them aside, had to constantly remind them of working and it was the only thing that could actually make them do what they were supposed to do. Otherwise they all would just stare: Eren and Jean at Mikasa, Mikasa at Eren, Connie at Sasha, Sasha at food and occasionally at Connie, Armin at Annie and Annie at Armin. Only Levi and Hanji weren't that obvious, though it was possible to catch them stealing some glances.

At some point it turned out that this staring did some good, when Eren dared to stop what he was doing and approached Mikasa, who refused to take off her red scarf. It was still warm, despite being worn almost every day through all these years, so it was making her even more hot and not in terms of looks. Unfortunately she could be really stubborn sometimes. Eren was the first one to notice she didn't look good, therefore he decided to confront her.

“Mikasa” the young man spoke with his calm yet firm voice.

“What happened, Eren? Is something wrong?” she asked, looking at him. She was clearly exhausted, her face was all red and sweaty, it was obvious she was extremely uncomfortable.

“Yes. Give me that” he unwrapped the red scarf from her neck and while her black eyes were expressing shock and betrayal, she immediately looked better. “I understand and appreciate that you want to wear this, but it's way too hot for that and I'm not going to let you hurt yourself.”

“Eren, I—” she tried to protest, but her voice died down her throat. First of all, she knew he was right. Second of all, she realized that a very shirtless, very sweaty, very muscular and deadly handsome Eren was standing really close to her. Loose strands of his hair that escaped his bun were sticked to his forehead and neck, his turquoise eyes stared deep into her soul, his face was serious and worried, and beads of sweat were running down his broad chest and toned abs.

“You know I'm right” he stated gently, trying to show her he wasn't angry, just concerned about her well-being.

“Y-yes, I know” she admitted quietly.

“Oi, brats, get back to work!” Levi scolded them.

“I'm keeping it for now” Eren squeezed his hand around the scarf more firmly. “But once it's cooler, I'll wrap it up for you again, I promise” he smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear, and left to continue his work, before the captain got angry at him. Mikasa stared at him with loving gaze for a while, then picked up her task again. It was suddenly much easier to work, now that she didn't have her scarf. Maybe Eren was right, after all.

When the sun set, the air cooled down, so it was time to rest. Obviously after a mandatory bath, because Levi was ready to beat the crap out of everyone who dared to stay sweaty and smell. For the first couple of days they tried to keep the old rules, so they had to bathe separately, but after Mikasa and Annie called Levi out for breaking the rules himself by bathing Hanji, they decided to give up. Besides, through all these years everyone grew so close to each other, that nudity stopped being any taboo. After all there were more terrifying things in the world than seeing your friends naked. So when the evening came, everyone but Levi, who hated to bathe with others, and Hanji, who was too busy to bathe when everyone else did, were sitting in the cold lake, chilling after a tiring day. Jean, Connie and Sasha were talking about some weird stuff that only the three of them could understand, no one else was actually paying attention to them, Mikasa was washing Eren's long hair, Armin was lost in thoughts and Annie just sat next to him unamused, just like Levi she didn't like to bathe with others, but she was doing it for Armin.

“Why do you always do that?” she asked finally, looking at Mikasa. The black haired girl looked at her former rival, her expression was quite ambiguous.

“I simply like it” she replied casually.

“Washing my hair or testing captain's patience?” Eren chuckled, actually knowing the answer.

“Both.”

“He's always mad when he sees us like that. He knows we're breaking the rules and not breaking them at the same time.”

“That doesn't make any sense, you can't do those things simultaneously” Armin spoke, getting out of his own world.

“But we do. We are closer than it's allowed, yet we don't do anything inappropriate” Eren explained, but his best friend still wasn't convinced.

“I don't know, man. That still doesn't make sense.”

“Armin is right, that sounds stupid” Annie agreed. Suddenly Sasha stood up and left the lake, with no reason.

“Leaving already, Sash?” Mikasa asked, looking at her friend.

“I'm hungry” she answered, drying herself with a towel. Now that explained everything.

“You're always hungry” Jean rolled his eyes.

“Not always!” Sasha protested. “Just most of the time...”

“Right, because that's so different.”

“It is!”

“Stop it, Jean, leave her alone” Connie poked his best friend in the ribs with his elbow.

“Ow! What the hell, man? That hurt!”

“It didn't, stop being a crybaby, you've had worse.”

Eren opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly shut it, biting his lower lip when Mikasa pulled his hair. It worked every time. But apparently this time Jean was in the mood for picking up fights.

“I saw it, Jäger.”

“I didn't say anything!”

“But you wanted to!”

“What is your problem? Are you jealous again?” Eren looked at him intensively.

“He totally is” Connie laughed, shamelessly exposing his friend.

“Well, it's not my fault Mikasa loves me. You know you can't change her feelings, I've tried for years and nothing worked. And thank goodness, I was such an idiot” he smiled fondly, looking at his girl. “But I'm sure you'll find someone one day too.”

“Yeah, man, don't worry” Connie agreed with Eren. “Love is always unexpected, you never know who and when.”

“Fuck you. Both of you” Jean stood up and joined Sasha, who was almost fully dressed and ready to go.

“Ew. I don't judge, but I personally prefer girls” Connie joked, trying to not be obvious which particular girl he had in mind.

“Yeah, if I ever allow anyone do that, it'll be only Mikasa” Eren said more bluntly and shamelessly, making said girl blush. She pulled his hair hard enough to look him in the eye. “Ow, that hurts!”

“Good, it's supposed to hurt. Shut your mouth before you say something you will regret” she warned him, finished washing his hair and let him go.

“Alright, alright, I'll be good” he promised, sitting up. Armin chuckled, watching them. “What?”

“Nothing. I just remember how you always rebelled against anything she said, yelling she's not your mom, and now you obey her without batting an eye.”

“I've just realized it's better to listen to her instead of fighting and then admitting she was right, like I used to do.”

“You've clearly grown up since then” the blonde said, looking at his friends affectionately.

“We've all grown up. I can't believe how fast time flies. I feel like yesterday we were little kids, and now? Just look at us” Eren looked at his friends with nostalgia all over his face.

“I don't know. I prefer you now” Mikasa smiled lovingly.

“Alright, I'll leave you, lovebirds” Connie raised his hands in a gesture of surrender and left.

“I think I should be leaving too. I'm cold” Annie complained, but made no move, clearly waiting for Armin, who didn't take a hint.

“I can warm you up” he blurted out instead, then he realized everyone was staring at him with wide eyes. It was unlike him to say something suggestive, he was usually too innocent for that. “No, I mean... I don't... not like that... ugh” he tried to explain, but ended up stumbling over his words, so he quickly left the lake.

“Armin, wait” Annie followed him, she actually liked when he wasn't so innocent.

“Maybe not everyone grew up” Eren chuckled, watching his best friend's embarrassment.

“Or not everyone is as shameless as you” Mikasa pointed out.

“I'm not... Alright, you have a point.”

“Are you guys coming or not?” Connie asked, looking at the couple.

“Nah, we'll chill out for a little more, but you can go” Eren answered, closing his eyes.

“Captain will be furious when he finds out you're here all alone.”

“I'll gladly fight him if it's necessary” Mikasa shrugged.

“As you wish.”

They waited for a few minutes until the rest of their friends walked away, before Eren approached his girl and kissed her passionately.

“Quick, we don't have much time” he whispered, pulling her on his lap.

“Oh, I'm sure you can use all your time properly” she smirked and kissed him again.

When they came back, captain was indeed furious.

“Where have you been?” he asked angrily, his hands were crossed and his eyes narrowed. The scars on his face were making him look even more terrifying.

“Oh, we decided to take a walk and watch the stars, sorry for being late” Eren lied smoothly. Mikasa hid her face in a red scarf her companion wrapped up for her, just like he promised.

“Get off my sight before I chop you to pieces” Levi growled, not buying it in a tiniest bit, but he didn't want to fight about it. Mostly because he had heard Hanji's footsteps behind him. The young couple quickly did as they were told.

“A walk, huh? Maybe we should take a walk too?” Hanji smiled widely.

“Not even a word, four-eyes. Don't you dare.”

The remaining time they all spent resting and preparing mentally themselves for the next day full of hard work, so in the morning they could wake up and continue their job. The only difference was that this time Eren wasn't working with them. He was taken somewhere by Hanji, who claimed they needed his help. And that was only partially not true, they actually needed it, but they also chose Eren for a reason: they wanted to spend some time with him. After all, those kids, Hanji and Levi grew somehow close, to the point they were almost like a family. And Eren, being a titan shifter for the longest time, sharing Hanji's impulsive personality and being bound to the Ackerman, no wonder he was their "favorite child", even now. Recently they didn't have much time to spend together, so Hanji decided to change that.

“You know, we've never even had a chance to talk, just the two of us, since all of this happened” Hanji said, breaking the silence they worked in.

“Yeah. And we used to spend quite a lot of time” Eren smiled with nostalgia. “I kind of miss us hanging out.”

“How are you doing?”

“I'm fine.”

“I mean it, Eren. Look at me and tell me in the eye that you are actually fine” Hanji looked at him seriously, their good eye expressed concern. They ditched their eye patch to help Levi feel better about his injuries, so their own bad eye was in full display, but none of 104th seemed to care.

“Honestly... I've been better” he admitted with a sigh. “If it wasn't for Armin and Mikasa, I don't know how would I take all of it” he was so embarrassed he couldn't even look at Hanji.

“I understand. You know, on the one hand, I'm glad that titans are gone and we're finally safe, but on the other hand... I miss them” they smiled sheepishly when Eren looked at them surprised. “Don't look at me like that. I've spent so many years researching them and doing experiments, they felt like a part of me. I can imagine it must be hard for you too, since you've been a titan yourself.”

“And I hated it.”

“So did I.”

“But you do have a point. I guess I sort of miss it too, mostly being powerful. It's been so long that I find it hard to get used to being normal again. Last week Mikasa saved my leg from being chopped off, because I forgot I can't regenerate it anymore, so I wasn't careful enough. If she wasn't there... I guess she was right saying that without her I would die a very tragic and a very young death” he smiled fondly, thinking about the girl.

“You love her” Hanji grinned. “Don't even try to deny it. You have the exact same face as Armin when I ask him about Annie” they added, reading his expression.

“Armin and Annie...?” he asked dumbfounded, he was so occupied by his own relationship, that he didn't even notice his best friend's one.

“Come on, don't tell me you don't see it. They're obviously into each other, but they're both too shy to act. I've been their matchmaker basically since we came here and nothing works. Either they are too difficult and stubborn, or I am too bad at this. Then I'm so glad you and Mikasa did it on your own. Sometimes I wonder how I, with one eye and glasses, can see more than them, both with pretty good sight.”

“But we're not—”

“Eren, please, do you think me and Levi believed in your last night's "sudden walk" lie? We're not stupid, we know you had a date, or something” Hanji deadpanned, looking at the young man with a very done expression. “You two are as obvious as Armin and Annie. But don't worry, we're not going to punish you, in fact, we are happy that you are happy, as long as you are responsible. Just better be careful, and here's a little tip for the future: Ackermans are screamers, have that in mind” they smirked.

“Yeah, I know” he answered. It was the moment when both of their brains started actually processing what they said.

“WAIT NO!” they screamed unison, then stared at each other shocked.

“How do you know that?!”

“What do you mean you know?!”

Another silent minute has passed before Eren spoke again.

“So you and captain...”

“Not a word, kid. If you tell anyone, I'll murder you. And if you think you should fear Levi, you just don't know me well enough” Hanji was deadly serious, saying these words and they were actually scary.

“I won't tell a word if you won't. Me and Mikasa don't want any trouble either.”

“So we have a deal.”

“Deal.”

They worked in silence before Eren spoke again, this time about something else.

“Hanji-san... Do you think the others... I mean, other than Mikasa and Armin... Do you think they hate me?” he asked, still unable to look them in the eye.

“Why would you even think that?” Hanji asked with shock.

“When Armin told me Mikasa loves me, I couldn't believe it at first. Even when she confirmed it herself, I still didn't think it was real. How could she loved me, when even I couldn't love myself? I wanted to do terrible things, I wanted to commit a genocide! I actually believed it was the right thing to do and I really wanted this. If it wasn't for you all... I don't know what would happen. How anyone can not hate me? How can anyone ever love me?” he asked, with every question his voice was breaking more and more. It was clear he needed support.

“Come here” Hanji pulled him close and hugged firmly. “We all love you, Eren. Levi would never want me to say it out loud, but you are like our children to us. All nine of you — I'm counting Ymir and Historia — are a part of our weird family and we really love you. We were killing for you, we would die for you, we would do anything to protect you.”

“Yeah... Sometimes... Sometimes I think that captain was a better dad than my actual father. Even though he seems to hate me, at least he taught me useful things and actually helped instead of causing problems and disappearing” Eren admitted, wiping his eyes and smiling sheepishly. “And while I could never forget my mom or stop loving her, I think you are quite a good parent too. I couldn't ask for better parent figures.”

“I can promise that Levi would burst with pride if he heard that. You know him, he can be harsh and rough, but that's because he actually cares, he just never learned to properly express his actual feelings. I'm so proud of you too and I'm very honored to hear that you consider me a good parent, because I don't see myself as one” Hanji confessed, holding back their own tears. “It's probably good, I'm supposed to be your commander, not your parent, but I can't help but feel bad about it.”

“You shouldn't. You're not a bad parent” Eren assured.

“You're not a bad kid yourself. Or a bad person. Just because you wanted to do something, it doesn't make you better or worse, because you didn't actually do that. You have no idea how many times I just wanted to get Levi and run away to spend the rest of our lives in peace, just the two of us. But I never did it, even when I learned that he shared my dream. He wanted to peacefully settle down as much as I did, even more after I barely saved him, yet both of us knew that our duties were more important. So we stayed and it was so worth it. Now we know for sure that in a few years, once we are done fixing it all, our dream will become our reality. And that's all that matters, you know? That we didn't run away, no matter how much we wanted to.”

“I want this too, you know? To settle down with Mikasa and just live a normal, boring life. Maybe even start a family one day...”

“Good luck. I personally feel like we're a bit too old and too scarred to start a family, other than just the two of us and you nine, our adopted children. Besides, with small children even two pair of eyes aren't enough sometimes, while me and Levi together have one pair” they chuckled. “But it will be nice to finally rest. It was worth to wait and always go back to fight for this possibility.”

“Thank you, Hanji-san. For helping me to get it all off my chest.”

“Any time, kid. Now let's get back to work before Levi wanders here and decides to judge or punish us” they laughed, but both of them were fully aware that if he only wanted, Levi actually would do that. Unless Mikasa got involved, then maybe they could stand a chance. A little one.

[starlightinhumanform]

24/7: Chapter One

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Platonic Demus, Platonic Logicality 

Summary: James (aka Janus) works the graveyard shift at a open-all-night convenience store. Logan is a college student who stays up way too late, way too often. While pulling all-nighters, he often visits the store James works at. As time goes on, James begins to care about Logan as more than just a customer. 

Warnings: Moderate Language, Some suggestive jokes, Mentions of ignorant/negative sentiments regarding vitiligo, Mentions of intoxication— some implied to be underage (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: College AU, Coffeeshop AU but weird (that’s literally the best way i can think of describing it), Mutual Feelings, Fluff 

A/N: — Janus’ name in this AU is James (mostly because when I began planning this, his name hadn’t been revealed). I may still include his name by writing in a name-change but we’ll see lmao — I do not have vitiligo and do not personally know anyone with vitiligo; Janus’ experience with the condition is based entirely on my research. That being said, I did my best to give an accurate representation but I do not claim that it is flawless in anyway. If there are any improvements you think I can make in this area, please please let me know 🖤🖤🖤 Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3   Fic Masterpost    Fic Request Info

James’ first shift started normally. That is, as normally as he could assume 24 hour convenience store shifts could be. It’s not like he had much experience with it.

Being his first day, he had assumed that the manager would’ve at least stuck around for a while. Instead, the woman had pointed out the bathroom plunger— advising him to not let anyone steal it— told him how to use the slushie machine, and said that if someone tried to rob the store, let them take the money; she even showed him the quickest way to open the cash register. Then she left within the first hour of James’ shift.

James didn’t mind being alone but he couldn’t fight down the frustration at his manager for abandoning him without actually telling him anything useful. He kept worrying that someone would ask a question that he couldn’t answer. What if the customer got angry and then he got reported and lost his job on the first night? Not to mention every time someone walked in, he was ready to bargain for his life with the $225.67 and a random condom in the cash register.

The adrenaline was getting to his head, stirring up usually dormant worries. He couldn’t stop glancing down at his hands. They were warm tan, patterned at random with lighter splotches. He had a condition known as vitiligo which made areas of his skin lose their pigmentation. For the majority of the time, it wasn’t a big deal; the worst part was the weird looks people gave him and even then, he could usually brush them off. Still, there was always the occasional idiot who felt the need to say something rude or inform him that he showed signs of demon possession. He hoped beyond everything that one of those incidents didn’t occur while he was alone in the store.

Thankfully, the only customers for the next few hours were a couple groups of teenagers at varying levels of intoxication and a traveling family made up of two parents suffering from highway-hypnosis and a small child who tried to climb into one of the drink refrigerators.

By one in the morning, the flow of incoming patrons had completely stopped. By that point James had already thrown back an entire 5-hour Energy drink and reorganized the chip rack— twice .

When the entry bell finally rang again at around two, James’ head was buzzing so badly he wasn’t sure if he had imagined the sound or not. A young man walked in— college aged with messy hair and glasses. He disappeared into the rows of brightly coloured plastic bags without a word and so quickly it made James once again question whether or not he was hallucinating.

It wasn’t until the man had made his way back to the counter, setting down a bag of chips and a couple energy drinks, that James was sure he existed. The man’s hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in two days and his dark circles were so deep they could be seen from beneath his squared glasses. Yup, definitely a college student.  

Despite the obvious signs of exhaustion, the man was undeniably pretty. Counter to his tired scowl, his eyes were bright and alert, framing a sharp nose. The way he kept his strong chin tilted slightly upwards and walked with purpose gave him the appearance of someone who actually knew what he was doing with his life— so basically, the opposite of James.

James was hardly ever self conscious about his appearance but this man— this stupidly pretty, oddly perfect man— made James squirm just a little bit, made him wonder if he was living on one side of some scale while the customer lounged on the other side. James tried to shrugged it off, focusing on the items in front of him instead.

The man spent the entire interaction at the counter muttering to himself and never once making eye contact. It was a little strange, but he was cute and James was bored so he decided to just appreciate the entertainment while it lasted.

It wasn’t until James went to hand the man his receipt that he seemed to even become aware of James’ existence. James held out the thin slip of paper, apparently causing the man to flinch backwards. His reaction was strong enough to make James wonder if he was one of those people— the type that thought vitiligo was some sort of deadly, contagious disease.

His eyes darted up quickly, his gaze sharp as it scanned over James’ face, “You’re not the normal cashier.”

He was taken aback by the accusing tone in the man’s voice, “No, I guess I’m not? I just got hired; the other guy got let off… something about trying to steal the plunger.”

“Oh,” His face transformed into a noncommittal scowl that James simply could not read, “Expect me regularly.”

The man turned on his heels and walked briskly to the door as James stood frozen and mystified behind the counter, “Oh, uh… see you soon then.”

——————

James woke up to the smell of something burning. He didn’t even remember dragging himself home and collapsing in his bed but based on the smell bothering him he evidently had made it back. No one could burn food quite like his roommate.

“Remus what the fuck are you doing?” James shuffled out to the kitchen where his roommate was poking at something on the stove.

“Making lunch.”

Based on his bed head and near-complete lack of clothes (Remus always slept in booty shorts and nothing else) James could guess that he had woken up only a few minutes earlier himself, “Dude that does not smell like anything humans should eat.”

Remus gave him a wicked grin and James decided not to push the subject. He walked out of the room with a sigh and hoped that the smell would clear up soon.

He made his way into the living room, sitting down and flipping open his laptop. James groaned at the lack of new email notifications. No new emails meant no new job acceptions.

“Guess I’m working the night shift again.”

James was grateful he got the job at the convenience store— no question. Getting a job as a college dropout was both necessary and nearly impossible at the same time. He was lucky to get a job at all and being a graveyard shift, he got paid nearly double the normal wage for his position. For now, his sleep schedule would just have to suffer.

——————

The weeks drifted by and James fell into a dull, but easy rhythm. He would go to work every night, spend the hours rearranging chip bags, guarding the plunger, and— if he was lucky— the pretty college boy would come in for a few minutes to grab salty food and a caffeinated drink.

James wasn’t sure when it became “lucky” for the man to come into the store. Maybe it was lucky because he was entertaining, always preoccupied and wandering around the store like his mind was a hundred miles away. He had this odd sort of duality— somehow both spaced out and intensely focused at the same time. It was like he was concentrating on the dimension beyond the one James was living in. He floated through this world, always preoccupied with world in his head. It was endearing and intriguing and James found himself looking forward to seeing the man. James wanted to see the world inside his head, to know what was so captivating that he had no use or interest for what was outside of it.  

The student was quickly becoming his favourite customer— something James never thought he would have— and he genuinely enjoyed having a chance to talk to the other guy. He was handsome, obviously intelligent, and, if given the chance, James definitely would’ve asked him out for a drink.

As it was though, James looked awful in his uniform so he would never have the confidence to make a move the only times he ever saw him.

James started to watch for him. The man came at least once a week, always between midnight and four in the morning. He must have lived nearby because he always walked over instead of taking a car like most of the other patrons. Either that, or he lived further away and walked all the way just for a bag of chips and an energy drink.

It was a Thursday like any other when he walked into the store and James’ curiosity got the better of him.

“So,” James leaned across the counter as the man sat his items down, “you come around here often?”

He tilted his head quizzically, “Yes? I do come here often? You’ve seen me.”

“No I— it was a joke,” James resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. This was… not going the way James would have hoped, “What’s your name? We might as well get on first name basis since we see each other all the time.”

“I’m Logan,” Logan seemed surprised by the question.

“I’m James.”

Logan gave a curt nod, “I know.”

“But— how? I—“

“It’s on your name tag,” And with that, Logan turned and marched out of the store.

——————

Logan laid on his back, arms and legs spread over the entirety of his bed. The only leftover space of the bed was occupied by Patton, one of his housemates.

“So how did the all-nighter go?”

Logan groaned, “Well… it sure as hell did go all night. I’m so fucking tired.”

“This is what you get for viewing the entire American university system as a challenge.”

He squinted up at Patton. With his blond hair and round, smiling face he looked like the direct inversion of whatever pale little zombie Logan currently felt like, “I gotta stop staying up so late.”

“I don’t know, you kind of seem to like it,” His housemate patted his leg and stood up to walk out of Logan’s room, “By the way, where do you keep going? I hear you leaving the house, like, super early all the time.”

Sunlight was streaming through his partially open blinds. It was probably quite pretty but to Logan it just looked like a headache-inducing glare. He threw a pillow over his face, muffling his voice as he answered, “Booty call.”

Patton laughed as he stopped walking, “Yeah right. The day you answer a booty call is the day I will shave my head.”

Logan shifted the pillow slightly to look at Patton again. The man’s hair was his prize possession, like a curly fluffy cloud that he kept as a pet on top of his head. Logan didn’t know how Patton could afford the time and money he put into his hair. What he did know, however, was that Patton would never risk its safety. Logan frowned in (mostly) fake insult, “You really think there’s not a single person who would send me a horny text at three in the morning?”

“Nah I think there are quite a few people who would do that. I just doubt there’s anyone you’d actually find worth answering.”

Was there anyone he would actually answer? Logan stared up at the dark fabric above him. The pillowcase was a deep navy blue and if he really squinted, he could see the weave of the thread, a thousand random threads coming together to make a greater whole. The way the individual pieces created something far larger than themselves was fascinating to Logan. He had never given it much before, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever find a random individual worth making something together.

In the darkness covering his eyes, a vision of the convenience store cashier flashed across his mind. The face he saw was light brown and across that warm canvas, lighter portions sprawled. For the first time, Logan began really thinking about that face. He had sharp features, tired eyes, and when he smiled with lips sloped upwards at a lopsided angle. His skin reminded Logan of the glossy photos of nebulae in his astronomy textbooks— bright splashes breaking up the sameness of the night sky. How had he never noticed that before? What was his name? James.

He heard the creak of their old floors beneath Patton as he walked out of Logan’s room. He probably thought Logan had fallen asleep as he lay there in silence. He was far from asleep, though. His mind was racing, trying to find the missed connections and continually finding new ones in the process. His eyes flickered as previously unrecognized thoughts began surfacing. And they didn’t stop. How had he never noticed?

“I’ve been going to that convenience store down the street,” Logan called as Patton walked away.

James.

Maybe there was someone for him.

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24/7 Taglist: @imma-potatoo

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Do I see you? (Fan Fiction on Kit & Ty’s reunion)

All Chapters of my Fan Fiction on Kit and Ty’s reunion below.

You can scroll down or read it here (I have added a bonus chapter 10 on AO3 - link below): 

AO3 Link - Do I see you?

By kibi_writes

Kit Herondale, descendant of the First Heir and as such, legitimate heir to the throne of both Seelie and Unseelie Courts, is hunted down by both the Cohort and Faeries. He has now taken refuge at the New York Institute, close to the Consul and to the only other Herondale he knows. The Scholomance has answered the Clave’s call and decided to assign three of their First Company Centurions to Kit’s security. One of them is Tiberius Blackthorn, whom Kit hasn’t been in contact with since he last saw him, three years ago.

The events take place three years after the Dark Artifices. Characters based on Cassandra Clare’s, save for those I have created for the plot.

Chapter 1 - An unexpected guest

The New York Institute’s dining room was crowded with strangers. Well, mostly strangers.

Alexander Lightwood-Bane, Consul, was at the head of the table and Jace was behind him, leaning against the wall, playing with a knife clutched in his left hand, the only sign of stress betraying his casual stance.

There were other familiar faces: Clary Fairchild, co-head of the NY Institute, Mark Blackthorn and Cristina Rosales, as representatives of the Downworlder-Shadowhunter Alliance, Jem and Tessa who had brought Kit here. Max and Rafael were playing with little Mina in another room.

Kit looked at the grim faces around the table. It was like being at a Shadowhunter funeral. There was even a Silent Brother present. The image of a dark-haired boy dressed in white flashed in his mind then, and Kit immediately shoved it away and directed his focus on the ongoing conversation.

“…So, we all agree,” said a tall pinch-faced man with a faint accent. It seemed to be French. “Now that both the Cohort and Faeries know of his existence, and where he has been hiding the past few years, the First Heir’s descendant is in danger. Until we find out how to deal with these threats, his security is the matter of the Clave.”

Kit loved it when people were talking about him in the third person as if he weren’t there.

As explained earlier, we can keep him in the Silent City, but only temporarily, said the Silent Brother in the attendees’ minds.

Kit made a silent prayer. No, please no. Anywhere but the Silent City.

“The Scholomance will answer the Clave’s call,” said the French man. Probably the new person in charge of the Scholomance, Kit guessed. He had heard he was French. He seemed young though - in his late twenties or early thirties - for such a responsibility. “We will assign three of our First Company’s Centurions to Christopher Herondale’s security”.

“Thank you, Maximilien. We are most grateful-” started Alec.

“We will need to perform background checks first,” Jace interrupted. “I hope you understand.”

Maximilien Verlac’s eyes – Kit had just remembered his last name – showed a flash of anger, quickly smoothed over. “Certainly, although I am pretty sure you can be spared a background check on at least one of them.” He looked directly at Mark then. “You see, I was planning on assigning your brother to the task.”

Kit froze.

“Tiberius Blackthorn?” it was Jem who spoke. He glanced at Kit then, so quickly most people must not have seen it. “We are quite close to the Blackthorns. Would it not be preferable to entrust only people who are… unknown to us, with such mission?” Kit knew what Jem was trying to do. Protect his feelings. He felt both ashamed and grateful.

“I thought you would want our A-Team to be assigned to your boy’s security,” said Maximilien Verlac, raising one of his thick eyebrows. “Tiberius Blackthorn is one of our best Centurions, and it would be a shame to be deprived of his razor-sharp mind. I am afraid without him, we cannot assure you that you have the very best the Scholomance has to offer.”

The rest of the conversation melted into a blur. Voices raised, people stood, fingers pointed. But Kit wasn’t hearing any of it. The only sound in his ear was that of his heart, beating hard in his chest.

Kit only realized the meeting was over when people started exiting the room. He was vaguely aware of Jem telling him with a strained voice that the three Centurions assigned to his security would arrive at the NY Institute that very evening. One of them was Tiberius Blackthorn. Kit stormed out of the room without a word, ran to the bedroom that had been assigned to him, and locked himself in. As if a lock could protect him from the ache that had started growing in his chest.

*****

The three Centurions came in through a Portal a little before twilight. They were led to the training room where Jace, co-head of the New York Institute, had been spending his afternoon.

Jace gracefully jumped from one of the rafters as soon as the door opened to reveal the newcomers. They seemed to be moving in a V formation, Tiberius Blackthorn standing in front, flanked by the two other Centurions.

Jace strode across the training room to meet them, his hand outstretched.

He had come across Tiberius Blackthorn several times in the past few years, not frequently, but enough to see him grow from a lean boy into a man. However, now that he was seeing him up close, Jace could not help but feel a jolt of surprise as he took in his delicate features, silver gray eyes under impossibly long eyelashes, cupid’s bow lips so red the shade could have been used for expensive make-up, his pale white skin a sharp contrast with his frame of black hair. Jace was not into boys, but he had to admit that Tiberius Blackthorn was strikingly handsome. In fact, one could say his beauty was… otherworldly.

He must have his pick of girls, Jace thought.

As he was shaking hands with Tiberius and glancing at the two other Centurions watching him expectantly, he said “Welcome to the New York Institute, Centurions. Kit is training right now, maybe we could make the introductions later; not that you, Ty, need to be introduced. I can show you to your rooms, so you can start unpacking-”

Jace started to move forward, only to realize that Tiberius had not been listening to him at all. He stood motionless, staring at something across the room, his gray eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. His face, which had been pale white a minute ago, had turned a deep shade of crimson.

Jace followed his stare to a corner of the training room where Kit was doing crunches, his abdominal muscles showing where his shirt lifted. Admittedly, Kit had changed a lot since the first time Jace had met him. To say he had grown into his looks was an understatement.

Kit’s body was tanned, all broad shoulders, narrow hips, and sharply defined muscles. His blond hair and white shirt were drenched in sweat. Kit seemed to be absorbed in his own world, eyes closed, headphones on, loud music blasting in his ears.

Jace revisited his earlier statement. Boys, then. Tiberius Blackthorn must have his pick of boys.

“Tiberius?” Jace insisted. When he failed to receive an answer, he tried in a more commanding voice, “Centurion?”

Tiberius snapped out of his daze, then, and straightened his back, as if in a military drill. He turned and led the way out of the training room, his two guard dogs following in his footsteps.

Jace sighed. He had the feeling the situation was about to get even more complicated.

 Chapter 2 - A sense of déjà-vu

Kit had disappeared into his bedroom after training, to shower and dress for dinner. He tried five different shirts, before settling for the first one. He kept pacing, cursing, until he gathered up the courage to walk out of his hiding place.

When he finally came in the Institute’s dining room, Kit realized that he had no reason to be nervous after all. Ty was nowhere to be seen. There were two Centurions though, sitting at the table, with their backs very straight, as if a cord were pulling them upward. Was that part of the training at the Scholomance? Kit wondered.

One of them introduced himself as Anush Joshi. He was tall and dark haired, and had a friendly face, Kit thought.

The other was a girl, with white-blond hair. Kerstin Lindquist. She had apparently grown up at the Stockholm Institute. She was very pretty and looked more like a Barbie doll than a Shadowhunter. But Kit had learnt that, where Shadowhunters were concerned, looks could be deceiving. Deadly so.

They were both wearing casual clothes, rather than their Centurions’ uniforms, and that helped Kit warm up to them. So far, his encounters with Centurions had not been the friendliest. That was an understatement. He could only count one of them he actually liked. Well, “liked” was a big word. Diego Rosales, who was now the Inquisitor.

They made polite conversation with Simon and Isabelle, who had joined them. Clary and Jace were apparently caught up in Institute business.

“So, any juicy news from the Scholomance?” asked Isabelle, as they were having dessert.

Kit saw Anush and Kerstin exchange an uneasy glance.

“Not much fun, actually,” said Anush, closing the subject.

“Is Tiberius getting along well with everyone? I know Maximilien Verlac holds him in high esteem.”

“He is the best of us,” Anush said simply. “He actually makes us all look like sword-wielding idiots.” Kit could not help but notice the fondness in Anush’s tone as he was speaking of Ty.

“Yes, but what about friends?” enquired Simon.

“He has friends. We are his friends,” said Kerstin defensively. “But he does keep to himself most of the time. Himself and Irene of course.”

Irene? Kit felt his heart squeezing into his chest. Blood pounded in his ears, a mixture of dread and rage.

“Oh, I heard about Irene,” said Isabelle, her eyes glittering. “She’s a Carpathian Lynx right? Catarina Loss told me all about her. Where is she now?”

Kit felt relief wash over him. He hoped no one had noticed his emotional rollercoaster. Wait- Tiberius had a Lynx?

“Yes, well, Catarina Loss is the one taking care of her, while Tiberius is away,” said Anush.

“So, I guess he doesn’t have a girlfriend” Isabelle pursued. Kit murmured a silent thanks to Isabelle and tried very much to look uninterested.

“Well, he is definitely popular with the female crowd,” said Kerstin. “Although he is gentle and kind, he is as difficult to approach as a wild animal. And girls do love a challenge. Better yet, a mystery. Of course, being drop-dead gorgeous is certainly a bonus. But he is not interested.”

“What do you mean, he is not interested?”

“Girls – even boys – gathered the courage to ask him out, but he never said yes to any of them. Well, from what I’ve heard. Tiberius is a gentleman and doesn’t talk about those things. Anyway, it seems that after a while, people stopped trying. Some even started calling him “the marble statue”. Beautiful as a Greek god, but cold, emotionless” Kerstin sounded angry. “Rejection and jealousy make people spiteful”. Kit decided he was growing to like that Kerstin girl.

“Of course, people who actually know him, know that this could not be farther from the truth” said Anush. Kerstin nodded vigorously. Kit felt a twinge. How well did they know Ty? Well enough, it seemed. Was any of them secretly dating him? Was that the reason they were uneasy earlier?

“Talking about Ty, will he not be joining us?” asked Simon.

“Sometimes he gets engrossed in work. Skips dinner. I will bring him food later”. It was Anush who had spoken.

“I’ll do it” said Kit, speaking for the first time in a while, before he could stop himself.

Everyone at the table turned to look at him. So much for being inconspicuous.

They all started heading to their rooms a few minutes later and Kit exchanged briefly with Simon to know which bedroom had been assigned to Ty.

 *****

Kit tried to ignore his growing excitement and the hard beating in his chest as he hurried down the scarcely lit corridors of the Institute. He was just turning around a corner when he collided with a tall figure. They both stumbled on the floor, Kit landing on top of the stranger. Kit lifted himself on his elbows to look at his victim. His heart skipped a beat when he recognized who it was, even in the darkness. Not a stranger at all.

“Kit,” said the not-stranger.

“Ty.”

Kit moved then but did not stand. Instead, he kneeled so that he was sitting directly on Ty’s chest.

“Does this feel like déjà-vu to you?” Kit was relieved and surprised he had managed to sound calm and casual. That’s it. Get it together. Stay cool. He flashed his best smile. “Although, it seems, the tables have turned.”

Despite the dimness, Kit could not miss the two perfect V shaped eyebrows raising as Ty answered. “If so, I make a poor criminal. I didn’t even have time to fill a backpack with stolen goods before I got caught.”

Kit’s smile grew even wider. When had Ty learnt to respond to jokes? To make jokes?

“Didn’t you? Is that a stolen knife you are carrying or are you just really happy to see me?”

A look of confusion crossed Ty’s face. Well, maybe not all jokes.

Kit stood up, lending a hand to Ty, who gratefully accepted it. As their hands touched, Kit felt a little fire igniting in his body. Well not that little. And it was spreading. Stop. Stop it now. Stay calm. Stay cool. You’ve got this.

“So, I was actually looking for you. As you did not join us for dinner, I wanted to bring dinner to you. Your friend Anush told me sometimes you skipped meals. But not on my watch. The Angel forbid my bodyguards pass out on me, when I am in such grave danger” said Kit, in what he hoped was a conversational tone.

They were both standing now, facing each other. Although Kit had grown several inches in the past years, Ty was still taller than him. Kit cursed silently. Would he ever stop growing? If Julian was any indicator though, Ty’s height was not a surprise. He was leaner than Julian, though not as lean as he used to be, his muscles had developed, and his shoulders were broader and… Kit was grateful for the cover of darkness while he was making this assessment.

Speaking of which, Ty’s gaze seemed to be moving over Kit, mainly focusing on his hands, searching for something? That’s when it struck Kit. Food. He had just announced to Ty that he had brought him dinner. Kit wanted to smack himself. What kind of idiot finds a lame excuse to go see the guy he has a crush on and actually shows up without the excuse.

“You can see I have no food on me,” said Kit before he could take it back. Kit wanted to smack himself. Again.

Ty just smiled. “I can see that you brought the dinner I was going to eat before you came to see me.”

“Says the criminal without the booty”.

“Order out?”

“I have a better idea,” said Kit. No need to tell Ty he already had dinner. He could eat twice. He needed the fuel. Right?

Chapter 3 - Herondales love but once

They settled for an Italian restaurant, a short ten minutes’ walk from the Institute, since Ty didn’t want to wander too far in case something happened. However, he seemed to think they were safe going out that evening, as if he knew something Kit didn’t. Kit decided not to investigate the matter. He trusted Ty knew what he was doing.

Kit mostly talked about his time in Devon, with Jem, Tessa and little Mina.

Ty told Kit about the Scholomance, his experiments with Livvy and Irene’s funny habits. He also gave Kit news on the Blackthorns.

“So… As I was told, you are considered quite the catch at the Scholomance,” said Kit eventually, when he could no longer hide his curiosity. “So much so that you keep turning girls... and boys, down.”

Ty stiffened.

“Apparently,” Kit carried on, “you are a mystery that begs to be solved.”

“I am not a mystery,” Ty shrugged. “I am just different. Nothing mysterious about that.”

“Does this mean you are not interested in having… relationships?” Kit tried very hard to sound casual.

“Christopher Herondale,” said Ty, with a small smile. “Are you asking me if I am interested in sex?”

Kit chocked on his drink. Ty waited until he had finished coughing.

“I am different,” he said. Then, turning his face away, “But not in that way.” Wait- was Ty blushing?

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just wondering why you rejected all the offers you received. You know, when you could…”

“Satisfy my appetites?” Ty offered, raising one of his perfect eyebrows. “Is that what you are doing?”

“What do you mean?” Kit started.

“I have heard of your reputation, Kit Herondale, the heartbreaker. Collecting flirts, never looking for a serious relationship.”

“That’s not entirely true. Well, that last part is true, but I am not a heartbreaker. I never lead anyone on, never offer something I cannot give.”

“I am sure you don’t,” said Ty. And Kit knew he believed him.

“I simply cannot have a serious relationship,” explained Kit. “For two reasons. The first is that being who I am, it’s dangerous to be associated with me. If any of my enemies sensed that I was seriously involved with someone, they would use that person to get to me. And I can’t allow that.”

“So, you are sacrificing love for the safety of others?”

“Well… That leads us to the second reason. You know what they say about Herondales?”

“A lot is said about Herondales. What are you referring to?”

“Herondales love but once.”

“So, you are having fun, until you find the one,” said Ty. It sounded like a statement, not a question. His expression was unreadable.

I already have, thought Kit. Instead, he said “Let’s go, we don’t want the Clave to discover we are out here having a conversation about relationships, when I am being hunted down by half the Shadowhunters and Downworlders in New York”.

Ty could not argue with that. So, they paid and left. Outside, the sky was darkening with clouds.

Chapter 4 - The First Kiss

As Kit looked up at the sky, rain started pouring down his face. “I should have anticipated this. The sky was full of clouds”.

“Cloud,” said Ty. “One of the words you like.”

Kit turned to look at Ty, who was staring at his right shoulder. “You remember them?”

“Whisper, cloud, secret, highway, hurricane, mirror, castle, thorns”. Ty spoke them so fast Kit barely had time to register them.

In answer, he smiled and whispered, more slowly, “Glass, twin, apple, whisper, stars, crystal, shadow, lilt”.

Ty’s eyes lit up and crinkled at the corners the way they did when he was very surprised.

“I have new words I like, you know,” said Ty, after a moment.

“You do?” Kit was staring at Ty’s eyelashes. Drops of rain were captured there, like diamonds glittering on a dark curtain. His wet hair was plastered to his head, dark wet curls partly obscuring his forehead and cheeks. He was so beautiful it hurt.

“Love, two, kiss, kite, lips,” whispered Ty.

Kit’s eyes widened and immediately searched Ty’s, and that is when he realized that Ty's gaze was no longer directed at his shoulder, but at his lips…

*****

Kit made a move toward Ty, but Ty had already raised his hand, as if to stop him. In the same movement, Ty gently pressed his long, calloused fingers on Kit’s lips, tracing their shape, uncovering their smoothness. He was whispering softly, so low that Kit could not make out the words.

Ty’s other hand came up as well and he was staring at Kit in wonder as his fingers moved slowly across Kit’s face, caressing the line of his jaw, stroking his cheeks, smoothing his eyebrows, leaving a trail of heat everywhere their skin touched. Kit closed his eyes, as if it could slow the fire burning through his body.

Ty exhaled, as if relieved by Kit’s reaction to his touch. He brought both his hands on either side of Kit’s face then, gently cupping as he pressed his mouth to Kit’s jaw, not exactly kissing, but rather enjoying the experience of his lips against Kit’s skin.

“Ty,” murmured Kit, in a daze. He felt his knees buckling under him and gripped Ty’s shoulders to steady himself. Ty gasped in surprise and stepped back. Kit moved forward to tighten his grip and ended up pushing Ty against the wall.

They both froze, staring at each other.

Ty swallowed and whispered, “Did I- did I do something wrong?”

Kit laughed at that, shaking his head. “Ty- you know, you are the cleverest person I know, but sometimes I swear...”

He crossed the very small space left between them. Ty’s lips were still parted in surprise as Kit crushed his own lips against them, using the opening to taste Ty’s mouth with his tongue. Another gasp from Ty.  Kit barely had the time to silently curse himself for being so forward – this was their first kiss, he ought to do things more slowly – long, urgent fingers were already moving up his back, his shoulders, and down again, resting for a few seconds against his hips before going up again. It was as if Ty was drawing a pattern, butterfly’s wings, on Kit’s back.  Gentle at first, his strokes became more and more demanding, until Ty’s hands slipped under Kit’s shirt and nails were digging into flesh. Ty seemed to be lost in the need to touch Kit, every part of Kit, as if his life depended on it. Well, if Ty was not being careful, why should he restrain himself?

Kit met Ty’s eagerness with his own, and it quickly became a chaos of tongues, bites, desperate touches. Kit could taste rain, metal, and musk, as his mouth continued to explore Ty’s – or devour would be more accurate. It was as if they were naked, skin against skin, through their water-soaked clothes. In that moment, Kit’s experience and Ty’s lack thereof did not matter. Neither of them could identify who was doing what, as they entangled their limbs and melted their bodies under the pouring rain.

Chapter 5 - When all hell breaks loose

Kit and Ty hurried back to the Institute, soaked to the bone. They slipped into Kit’s bedroom, as it was the closest to the entrance.

Kit kicked his shoes off and started to undress, lifting his shirt, then paused, looking over at Ty as he realized he was not alone in his room.

Ty caught Kit’s gaze then and locked it. Slowly, deliberately, he started to undress, taking his time with each piece of wet clothing, until he was standing naked in front of Kit, save from his boxer shorts. Two chains were tied around his neck. One with Livvy’s locket and the other one with a silver, heron-shaped pendant. A gift from Kit.

Kit felt his whole body catch fire as his gaze roamed over Ty’s body. He literally took his breath away.

Marble statue, you say? In that moment, Ty looked anything but. He was disheveled, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide and questioning and his breath quickening.

But he was standing still, making no move toward Kit, leaving Kit to decide what happened next.

Kit swallowed hard. He removed his shirt then and threw it on the floor. Once he had decided on his course of action, he could not get fast enough to Ty. They collided, stumbled, and fell on the bed, Kit landing on top of Ty.

Kit cursed as he tried to undo the zipper on his jeans. “It’s stuck”, he said.

“Wait let me help- Oosh” Ty was cut short as Kit, still struggling with his zipper, inadvertently elbowed him.

“By the Angel, Kit, no need to knock me out. I am willing!”

“Didn’t you know? it’s payback time.”

They burst out laughing then, but it was not long before the sound of Ty’s laughter did things to Kit’s insides, that made him instantly turn serious.

As Kit started kissing his way down Ty’s body, all his senses attuned to him and only him. The scent of Ty, the sound of Ty’s raspy moans, the feel of Ty’s soft skin over taut muscles as he traced circles with his tongue around Ty’s navel.

Kit felt exhilarated. He could not believe this was happening, that he was finally touching Ty the way he had always wanted to and that Ty was not only fine with it, he was begging for it.

As Kit started stroking Ty’s hardness through the material of his shorts, Ty started shaking, his breath coming in short gasps.

“Kit” he chocked. “By the Angel, Kit- What are you doing to me?”

His voice was rich and deep, with a rasp that reminded Kit of the first time he had heard Ty’s voice. It fueled Kit’s own arousal.

“Beautiful” said Kit, as he remembered, the sound muffled as his lips moved against Ty’s skin. I love you Ty, I love you so much.

Kit froze. He had not said it out loud. But it was as if he had been brought back to Lake Lyn, to that moment when his heart had been ripped apart. The evening spent with Ty had brought pieces of Kit’s heart back together, each of Ty’s smiles acting like so many stitches.

But if his heart were healed, if it became whole again, did that not mean it could break again? And if It broke again, could Kit survive it?

Kit scrambled out of the bed and nearly tripped on his own feet. Such a graceful escape for a Shadowhunter, he thought.

He looked at Ty then, who was sitting up, clearly confused, his hair tangled, and his cheeks flushed. The white blanket was barely covering his body. Kit blushed as he looked away and swallowed hard. “I think we should stop here. For now.”

Ty got out of bed. His hands were shaking as he gathered his wet clothes, which were scattered over the floor. His head was bent, so Kit could not see the expression on his face. “I am sorry. I must have misunderstood.”

“No, you have not!” Kit almost yelled.  “I wanted this. I wanted you. I want you.” I want you more than I have ever wanted anything in my whole life, was what Kit thought but did not say.

“So, help me understand.” Ty had already put his wet jeans on. Kit exhaled, his sigh a mix of relief and regret. “You say you want me, but I was lying naked in your bed and you were touching me, making me feel things that I never…” Ty swallowed. “And then you stopped. You just stopped and jumped off the bed as if you couldn’t get away from me fast enough. Is this- is this a game to you?”

“No, of course not!” Kit took a deep breath. “I want to press pause for a moment. And rewind. I want us to spend time together, to go on dates, to get to know each other, before- “

“Get to know each other? As if we are strangers? Is that what you think?” Ty’s eyes were huge. Shock. Disappointment. Well, Kit couldn’t help but be disappointed as well. Ty was fully dressed now.

“I think – it’s been three years since we’ve last seen each other, and we may have changed, I know I have changed, and it would be best if we got to-“

“I. Know. You.” Ty enunciated each word. “I know you, Kit. And I thought you knew me too”, he whispered. His voice sounded tired. Defeated. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists. Kit almost wanted to give him something to grab hold of.

“I do know you…” Kit pleaded, realizing with horror how wrong his explanation had come out. How it might have been construed. As if what they had had three years ago could be wiped away, could be forgotten. It could not. Kit had tried to forget and then stopped trying as he had realized how precious it was. Sacred. Neither time, nor distance, nor life, nor death could touch it. What they had shared, what they used to have, was perfect. Up until Kit ruined everything by confessing his feelings.

Of course, he knew Ty. He knew all of him and loved all of him. He just wanted Ty to know him. The new him. Maybe if Ty took the time to learn to know the new Kit, he could fall in love with him. As Kit was in love with Ty.

“I just want you to know me, too. The new me.” He tried to explain but felt like he was failing.

“You were right” said Ty, after a moment. His hands had stopped moving and were clutched into fists. “You don’t know me. You don’t know me if you thought I was about to give myself to someone I considered a stranger.”

He went to the door and paused. “You are doing it again, you know? You can’t just make your way into my life, become part of who I am, and just leave without a look back. Without a single word. Leaving a mess that I am expected to figure out on my own.”

And with that, Ty stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Kit crumpled to the floor. For hours, he sat there, his bare back against the wall, wondering how the best day of his life and the worst turned out to be the exact same day.

Chapter 6 - Thank God for Livvy Blackthorn

Kit didn’t remember how, but he had somehow managed to crawl into his bed, sometime during the night, and had fallen asleep tossing restlessly.

When he woke up, the sun was high up in the sky, and its light shone on a familiar figure sitting on his bed, legs crossed. Kit blinked.

“Livvy.”

She wore the same white dress she had at her funeral and her Blackthorn blue-green eyes were staring at him with a pained expression. She looked exactly the same as she had the last time he had seen her.

“So. How bad did you screw things up this time?” she said.

“I didn’t just screw things up,” said Kit, sitting up. “I obliterated them. I am a wrecking ball.”

Livvy rolled her eyes. “So dramatic. You know, I never cared for soap opera when I was alive, and this has not changed with my untimely death. Thank the Angel.”

“So what should I do?” asked Kit.

“Listen to me, Kit. And I am telling you this as a fifteen-year-old ghost to an eighteen-year-old man. GROW. A. PAIR. Tell him about your feelings.”

“I already did!” Kit yelled desperately. “And… and he didn’t care. He didn’t care.”

“That doesn’t sound like Ty-Ty,” said Livvy dubiously. “When was that?”

“Three years ago. Near Lake Lyn. When we were… when we were raising you as a ghost.”

Livvy snorted. “So, my brother asked you to assist him in a resurrection ritual and you took that as a romantic date? Beats flowers and a fancy restaurant. Oh wait – where Dru is concerned – it probably does,” she added as an afterthought.

“It wasn’t like that!” cried Kit. “I knew what we were doing was wrong, and I tried to stop him and it just… came out.”

“Well, you certainly did” said Livvy.

“What?”

“Never mind. I have other things to do so please, Kit, can you do something for me and spare me hours of explaining how your confession of love – as grand and romantic as it must have been – probably sailed right over Ty’s head as he was, you know, BUSY RAISING HIS TWIN SISTER FROM THE DEAD.”

“Fine! I’ll figure this out on my own. Since you are so busy with… ghost stuff.”

“Don’t be rude. I have things to do. Ty and I are leaving in a short hour. A mission for the Scholomance.”

“WHAT? But I thought-“

“As important as you are, Kit, Centurions cannot simply abandon all their missions to play bodyguards for you. This is why three Centurions were assigned to your protection. Two of them will remain at the Institute, so you’ll be fine.”

Kit already felt Ty’s absence as a hole in his chest.

“How long?” he asked.

“Two or three days. Don’t worry, we’ll do as fast as we can. In the meantime, work this out. And Kit?”

“Yeah?”

“This was me being nice. Since it’s clear that you are not doing it on purpose. I know how much you love Ty.”

Kit flinched.

“But Kit- Don’t. You. Dare. Hurt. My Brother. Again.”

She looked like an avenging angel then, and her blue-green fiery gaze was the last thing Kit saw before she disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Chapter 7 - Let’s kick some Cohort ass

The two following days passed in a blur. Kit was returning to his bedroom after training one evening when he saw a package left on his bed. He opened it and emptied the content on his desk. There was a folded note and a necklace. Kit felt a jolt of uneasiness as he recognized instantly the whitish-green pendant with the Chinese characters carved into it. Even though he had only learnt a few Chinese words from Jem, and didn’t know how to read them, he knew exactly what the characters meant. When two people are at one in their inmost hearts, they shatter even the strength of iron or bronze.

It was the pendant Jem had offered Tessa over a hundred years ago, when he had proposed.

With a growing sense of dread, Kit opened the folded note and read. We hold someone you love. If you want to see her again, meet us at the following address. Alone. If you warn the Clave or anyone at the Institute, we will know. And what you’ll find there will be her dead body. The address printed at the bottom of the note seemed to be in a residential area, a 30 minutes’ walk from the Institute.

A flash of memories went through Kit’s head. Tessa smiling indulgently at him as he made yet another one of his bad jokes. Their banter about books and movies. Tessa carrying a giggling Mina and staring at Jem adoringly, as he was making faces to make them laugh. Tessa singing to Mina - loud enough for Kit to hear – the song his mother used to sing to him. Well, the mother who had given birth to him. Tessa was also his mother now.

When he snapped out of his daze, he was fully dressed in Shadowhunter gear. Thankfully, he always kept weapons in his room and was now heavily armed. He didn’t pause to think as he walked to the window and started escalading straight up to the Institute’s roof. He would not go through the corridors and risk being followed by someone at the Institute. He had noticed the way the Centurions sometimes seemed to suddenly appear out of thin air when he thought he was alone.

Perched on the Institute’s roof, he felt grateful for all the training Jace had put him through. He now knew that, as much as Jace could jump from unexpected, impossible heights, so could he. He had even trained to jump out of a Malachi configuration. Theoretically. Jace had smiled conspiratorially at the time, telling him it was a talent that could always prove useful.

He drew two runes, Heightened Speed and Surefooted, sparing a glance, as he always did, at the Voyance rune at the back of his right hand. He only paused to take one deep breath before jumping from the roof and landing gracefully on the ground. He murmured a silent thanks to Jace and almost wished his mentor were there for a high five.

He made it to the location in short time, although it seemed like hours to him.

He tried to circle around the meeting point, but it appeared empty. Just when he thought about doing another round, he heard laughter coming from an alley surrounded by two brick buildings. He peered his head. No one. He started as he heard a creaking noise behind him. Spinning toward the sound with his sword raised, he saw a familiar figure standing a few feet away.

It was one of the Centurions who had been assigned to his security. The Swedish blond girl, Kiersten Lindquist. She held a finger to her lips, hushing him, and slid silently next to him.

“It’s a trap,” she said low in his ear. “I have sent Anush back to the Institute for reinforcements. I’ll distract them and you run. Don’t – and I repeat – whatever you do, don’t let yourself get caught. It’s you they want. They will not hurt me if they are still looking for you. They would want to use me as bait.”

“But– Tessa…”

“She’s fine,” snapped Kiersten. Then, more gently, “please don’t mess up our plan.”

Wait– Kit thought, there was a plan?

Before he could ask, a dozen Shadowhunters – and it was plain they belonged to the Cohort - were circling them. They were calling themselves the Imperishable Order, now. Same shit, different name, thought Kit.

“Hey Barbie girl,” drawled one of the Cohort members. He looked very familiar. “We have no quarrel with you. We just want the Herondale Faerie-slut. Leave us be and we will not harm you.”

“Manuel. I see you haven’t changed,” said Kiersten calmly. “You’re still a disgrace to the Scholomance.” She drew her longsword and shouted, “NOW”.

Kit sprinted, knocking down two Cohort members on his way, disappeared around the corner of the nearest building and scrambled up its wall with a dexterity that would make both Jace and Jem proud. Up on the roof, he could see six Centurions had been dispatched to look for him. He glanced at the battle taking place beneath him and heard shouts as a newcomer joined the melee and incapacitated a Cohort member in a record time, before turning to fight two others. Kiersten was fighting two on her own.

Kit decided to check on the hunt party. Only two of them had decided to climb the stairs up to the top of the building, while the others were searching the area. Suddenly, he heard in a loud, clear voice, “STOP. STOP now, put your weapons down or I SWEAR TO GOD I will cut Barbie’s throat.”

He hurried back to stand at the edge of the roof, to assess the situation below.

Kit watched as the newcomer – a tall figure wearing a Centurion uniform – took a step forward and kneeled, laying his two blades on the floor. He raised both his hands as he stood. The moon lit his face. Kit gasped. Ty. No, no, no, Ty. I am so sorry.

Manuel strode to stand behind Ty, encircling him with his arms and lifting a knife to his throat. He was almost standing on tiptoe as Ty was taller than him, and it would have been comical if not for the dreadfulness of the whole situation.

A few feet away, facing them, another Cohort member had Kiersten in a headlock.

Kit had to force himself still. His hands were clutched into fists, his entire body trembling with the urge to fight. He kept repeating Kiersten’s words in his head. They will not hurt me if they are still looking for you. They would want to use me as bait.

“Well, well, look who we have here” said a woman’s voice and Kit recognized it at once. Zara Dearborn.

“Is this… Julian Blackthorn’s younger brother? The weird one? Well, whatever they say, he is hot as hell.”

Manuel laughed. “I figured you would say this, Zara. We all know you have wet dreams about Julian Blackthorn. No shame in that. You know what they say, keep your enemies closer and all that.”

Zara spluttered. “Seriously? You really want to talk about this? How about your crush on Emma Carstairs?” And in a mimicking voice, “Oooh Emma, you have such pretty blond hair and you’re such a badass, and you have this long, beautiful sword making up for my tiny, little…”

“Let’s make a truce,” said Manuel. “When we get back to Alicante, the Blackthorn Ken here will be all yours.”

“That’s actually a great idea. The look on Emma’s face when she finds out that her little brother-in-law and I…“

“I’m sorry, Zara, but this is not happening” said Ty, in a loud, clear voice, that didn’t betray a flicker of fear although he had a knife pointed at his throat. Kit felt a surge of pride. “No offense, but psycho bitches are not my type.”

Kit could see in the distance silhouettes running in their direction. He sighed in relief. Reinforcement was coming. He jumped from the roof and landed directly behind Zara, pointing his sword in her back in almost the same motion.

Several gasps of surprise.

“You think that jump was high? I can do it in my sleep,” said Kit, showing off.

He winked at Ty then, who was glancing his way, pride glittering in his eyes.

Kit knew he needed to stall until reinforcement arrived. Admittedly, the Cohort members were already doing most of the job.

“So… Manuel, I have to admit I am a bit jealous. You see, I have been fantasizing about holding Tiberius in the exact same position for years now.”

Ty, who had not betrayed a flicker of emotion until then, flushed a deep shade of red.

Manual smiled viciously. “Oh, I see. I guess all Faeries are queers.” And then, he spoke in Ty’s ear but loudly, so everyone could hear, “So, who’s the bitch?”

Ty didn’t answer but looked pointedly at Zara.

“Let me translate for you, freak. Do you hump him? Or does he hump you?”

“Come now, Manuel. This is the 21st Century. Keep up” said Kit, flashing his best smile. “We believe in equal opportunities.”

“OK guys, did I miss something? did we really run into Cohort members or some hormone-crazed teenagers posing as such?” it was Barbie – sorry, Kiersten – who had just spoken.  

No one answered as this was the moment when Jace appeared out of nowhere and knocked down the person who had her in a headlock with the flat of his sword.

Kit pushed Zara away, with such force that she ended up sprawling on the floor.

He instantly turned to where Ty was standing… looking down, his foot resting on top of Manuel’s body, which was writhing on the ground. Manuel was staring at his hands, his forearms, which were covered with red rashes and blisters, his face a mask of shock. A powder substance was eating away his knife, which had somehow landed a few feet away. 

Kit saw Ty put away a small vial filled with red-purple powder, with a satisfied look on his face.

All hell broke loose.

A fleeing Cohort member was swept off his feet as a whip circled around his foot and Isabelle, looking like a warrior goddess, pulled vigorously.

An arrow lodged itself in Zara’s thigh as she tried to stand up. Alec, standing a few feet away, had already pulled a new arrow. He looked… bored.

Kit knocked down another Cohort member using only his right hook. Because, well, he could.

In a few minutes, they had rounded up the wounded and tied their hands behind their backs.

The party that had been sent to search for Kit came back to an incongruous sight.

Zara, Manuel and the other Cohort members who had remained with the Centurions were now huddled together in the middle of a circle made by Anush, Kiersten, Ty and Isabelle, who was slashing at the air with her whip as to make a point to whoever thought they could chance an escape. Kit thought she looked like a hot school teacher scolding her very, very naughty pupils.

The search party turned around, making a run for it… only to be met by Jace. He was leaning casually against the side of the wall, his arms crossed.

“Hey, guys” he drawled. “Looking for something? Your dignity, maybe?”

One of the fleers launched himself at him, weapon raised, and Jace simply ducked out of the way as he drew his own sword.

Kit sensed a movement behind him, just as he was facing another one. Glancing backward, he saw that Ty had joined him to cover his back. He felt heat – the heat of the battle, the heat of Ty's body so close to his – as they fought back-to-back, four opponents at the same time.

Alec and Jace eventually joined them, and it was almost over before it had started.

The remaining Cohort members joined their friends in the circle where Kiersten, Anush and Isabelle had remained. Isabelle had put away her whip and was staring at her nails.

Clary finally swept in, gracefully, not a single hair out of place, and started drawing a portal.

“Sorry we are late” she said, standing next to Simon who was carrying large paper bags. “We had to stop to buy us dinner.”

Chapter 8 - What’s the point?

With the Cohort threat being mostly quashed, the following weeks passed uneventfully.

The Centurions remained at the New York Institute, as there were still other Cohort members and Faeries looking for Kit.

Kit and Ty never mentioned the fight they had had on the first day Ty had arrived at the Institute. Their friendship resumed; major events left unspoken.

It was as it had been before they had performed necromancy spells together. As if they had not raised Livvy’s ghost (except for the fact that they were seeing her every day). As if they had not lost all contact for three years. As if they had not kissed under the rain.

Kit still remembered though. How Ty’s lips had felt against his, the taste of his mouth. Rain, metal and musk. Kit could not forget the feel of Ty’s skin under his fingers, under his lips, the scent of him, the noises Ty made when he was aroused. He blushed, sometimes, thinking back to those intimate moments he had shared with Ty. And of course, there were the glances they cast at each other, the shiver of excitement when their hands accidently brushed, when they walked side by side and their shoulders touched.

Kit had started helping Ty with his missions for the Scholomance, and it was as if Sherlock had found Watson again.

“How many times do I have to repeat myself? I am not your Watson,” had said Kit one evening, when they were doing research on demons’ poisons in the Institute’s library.

Ty had smiled one of his rare smiles. “Well, Kit, that’s exactly what my Watson would say.” And Kit had blushed at the way Ty had naturally said “my Watson”.

Days went by, and everyone at the Institute carried on with their own routines.

This is probably why no one expected the events that occurred that evening.

Kit was returning to his bedroom after a late-night training session. He heard noise coming from the library. He stopped to peer inside, his brows furrowed, only to see Jace standing with his back to him. He thought he saw a flash of red hair.

“Jace?” called Kit.

Jace froze. When he slowly turned, Kit could see that he was carrying Clary in his arms. She looked fast asleep.

Kit felt an increasing uneasiness. Something was wrong. But this was Jace right? If there was anyone Jace would never, ever hurt, it was Clary.

“Jace? Rough night? I know Clary is probably light as feather but do you… need a hand?” asked Kit, unsure how to act.

As Jace said nothing, he took a step toward him.

Jace took a step back. Something was very wrong indeed.

“Stop! It’s not Jace!” yelled a voice that Kit instantly recognized.

Kit turned to where Ty stood, in the doorway, holding two daggers. His face was covered in scratches, his lips bruised, a deep red cut on his upper lip. He clearly had been into a fight.

“Not Jace from this world,” Ty continued. “It’s probably Jace from another world. That’s one of the few possible explanations at least.”

“How do you know?” asked Kit.

“Details” was all Ty said. And Kit believed him. If anyone – save for Clary, where Jace was concerned – could notice small inconsistencies, like in a game of Spot the Difference, it was Ty. Ty could see objectively, without the blurring curtain of expectations or preconceptions.

Jace – well, his evil doppelganger – stiffened. “Will you make me regret I didn’t kill you?”

“You didn’t give my friends that chance. They trusted you and you took them by surprise. Why spare me?” said Ty.

“I didn’t fool you” said the fake Jace. “I figured you probably knew Jace, the one from this world, very well. And I saw the heron-shaped pendant you carry around your neck. I thought this meant you had earnt the love – or at least the trust – of a Herondale. Sentimental me.”

“Leave Clary. And we will not hurt you,” said Kit, although he carried no weapon.

Jace laughed. He had moved to stand close to an open window and seemed ready to pounce. He would not try to jump with Clary in his arms, would he?

“You will not hurt me? The Jace from this world must be too soft, if you think you can bargain with me.”

In a swift movement, he had shifted Clary’s body in one of his arms and drawn out a sword.

It all happened in a blur. The sword flew. Ty launched himself in front of Kit and the blow hit him with such force that he was thrown back against Kit, who caught him in his arms. Kit crumpled to the floor, holding Ty.

Kit was filled with a dreadful sense of déjà-vu, as he looked at the knife protruding from Ty’s chest. He had not been there at the time, but he imagined that was what Livvy must have looked like in the Council Hall. He had imagined it, although he had tried not too, often enough. And he was probably in the exact same position Julian had been at the time.

Kit was barely aware of the sound of footsteps and shouts. People around him assessing the situation. It seemed the “other Jace” had somehow escaped. Without his prey. Clary was safe.

“No, Ty. No. Please don’t leave me.”

Kit was kneeling on the floor, carrying Ty’s limp body in his arms. He started rocking.

“What’s the point, Ty? What’s the point of Watson’s whole existence if there is no Sherlock? What’s the point of me if there is no you?” Tears were rolling down his cheeks. But he could not feel them. He could not feel anything.

Kit did not even bother to grab for his stele, he knew it was too late for that. Through his numbness, Kit gently lay Ty’s body on the floor and ripped his shirt. With desperate hope, he placed both his hands on Ty’s chest and willed him to heal. He remembered the time he had made the horses of the Riders of Mannan disappear. He thought about drawing that strength, all his strength, all his will, into healing Ty. He heard voices softly murmuring to let go of Ty, that it was over – but he did not listen to any of them. He shoved away anyone’s attempt to grab him.

He did not know how much time had passed but eventually, he felt a flicker of movement. It was barely there but Kit knew he had sensed something.

Ty gasped and his silver-gray eyes flew open. They widened in amazement. “Kit…“ he said. “I knew you would find them.”

What? What did I find? Kit wanted to ask. But he could not find his voice. Relief had washed over him, and although he was drained, he felt giddy with it.  

He did not hear anything further, as Ty slipped into unconsciousness a second later. It was not long before Kit himself collapsed on top of Ty’s body.

*****

Jace, carrying Clary in his arms, Isabelle, Simon, Alec and Magnus stood in a circle in the Institute’s library. In the middle of the circle, two bodies were lying on the ground, one resting partly on top of the other, as if in a lovers’ embrace.

Their skin appeared to glow from within and one of the boys’ exposed chest seemed to be pierced through with bronze-colored light.

*****

It was late in the night when the dean of the Scholomance, Maximilien Verlac, slipped through the door of the Institute’s infirmary. The room was mostly dark save for the moonlight filtering through the windows. He did not notice Kit, sitting on the floor, next to Ty’s bed.

He was entirely focused on Ty, his expression one of deep sorrow and… something else. Kit recognized that look. It was the look he probably had himself when he was glancing at Ty and thought no one was seeing him.

Kit knew then, that Maximilien did not only admire Ty as one of his best Centurions. He loved him.

Suddenly, Maximilien fell on his knees. “Oh, Tiberius. What did I do? I am sorry. I am so sorry,” he whispered.

Kit shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

Maximilien snapped out of his daze and stood. Even in the darkness, Kit could see his cheeks were flushed. “Christopher Herondale.”

“Kit, please” answered Kit.

“Kit?” Maximilien’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I see…”

Kit didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt uneasy.

“What is it? What is it that you see?”

Maximilien hesitated. He looked at Kit for a moment, considering.

Then, he explained, in a resigned voice. “One day, Tiberius returned from a mission to the Scholomance with very deep wounds that couldn’t heal. The demon poison had spread. We had to keep him in the infirmary for three days. He was delirious. He kept calling a name. Your name. Asking why you had left him. Why you never said goodbye. He also talked about the characters of the book he holds so dearly…saying that Sherlock was not Sherlock without Watson. It seemed like nonsense to me.”

Maximilien exhaled deeply. “I thought Kit was a girl’s name. Short for Katherine, in French Catherine. It could also be short for Quitterie, another French girl name. When Tiberius woke up, and I asked him about it, he simply shrugged and did not explain. We never talked about it again.”

Kit didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He just nodded, closed his eyes, and waited for Maximilien to leave.

Once he was alone with Ty, Kit lay down on the bed next to him, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat of his body. Ty’s face was turned to his. Kit fell asleep to Ty’s soft breathing, each exhalation caressing his skin like feather across his cheek.

Chapter 9 - Do I see you?

Kit and Ty were sitting at the edge of the New York Institute’s roof. They were staring in silence at the lights of the city under the twilight sky.

Ty had fully recovered, but Kit knew a scar could still be seen across his chest, a reminder of his sacrifice for Kit’s life. The scratches on his face, the cut in his lips were still there, but fading. Despite them, and maybe also because of them, all Kit could see was the most beautiful face he had ever set his eyes upon. Ty was wearing a hoodie and it made him look younger, more vulnerable.

“Why did you do it?” said Kit suddenly, breaking the stillness. “Is it because you are a Centurion and have sworn to protect me? Or…” He took a deep shuddering breath. “Or is there another reason?”

At first, Ty said nothing.

After a few minutes, he finally spoke. His voice seemed softer, younger somehow, as if Kit was not sitting next to the Centurion, but next to the boy who had held a knife at his throat, a few years before. “I don’t know. Why do you think I did?”

“Do you… love me?” Kit’s voice was shaking. He was staring straight ahead, not wanting to meet Ty’s eyes.

“You know, Julian once told me that to love someone was to see them. I didn’t understand at the time but…”

“But what?” said Kit, and he forced himself to turn, slowly, to meet Ty’s gaze. 

Kit did not think he had ever seen Ty look at him, at anyone, this way. His silver-gray eyes were piercing, as if he could see through Kit’s. Ty always had an intense gaze, but this was different somehow. His eyes seemed to glow with a secret, like he knew something about Kit that Kit did not.

“When you enter a room, without even having to look at you, my entire body seems to sense you and to relax, as if I had been waiting for you all along.

But when I do look… I see that your eyes are different shades of blue, the way the sky changes colors, all through day and night. I can see the way, sometimes when you are sad, you smile to hide it, but your smile does not quite reach your eyes. I can see the way, when you are truly happy, you do not smile but your whole face seems to light in a fiery glow. I can see that you think sometimes you are a coward when in fact you are the bravest person I know. I can see in the way you hold yourself, in the way you hesitate, that you think you are unworthy. That you don’t deserve anything, any protection or any attention, and when you are shown any affection, you cringe, as if to shield yourself from it, but cannot help the flicker of hope in your eyes. And it makes me want to give you everything I own. So… what do you think? Do I see you?”

Kit had never heard Ty speak so many words in a row before. He didn’t think anyone ever had. He knew, somehow, that this was not a rehearsed speech, that Ty had simply compiled a list of things he noticed about Kit, and kept them in his brilliant mind, the way he would remember the number of windows on a building, the various benefits of bees or the different stages of most animals’ migration cycles.

Kit smiled at Ty then, and it touched his eyes. Tears were rolling down his burning cheeks, alight with a fiery glow, as he answered. “You see me”.

He put his arms around Ty, then, and held him tightly. More tightly than he’d ever held anyone, except for that one time on the London Institute’s roof.

[solastia]

Love And Lies | 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!Reader

Summary: You are a simple maid. When your lady and dearest friend need help escaping an arranged marriage with King Seokjin so they might be together, you do the only thing you can - take her place. 

A/N: It was my intention to not post this story until it was totally completed, but I got too excited. There are about three chapters already in my drafts and I just really like how it’s turning out. Don’t worry, I’m still totally working on everything else too. I’m just going through a list of popular tropes that I’ve never gotten around to writing for, and this one covers both historical and arranged marriage. I’ll be posting the last chapter of Tuqburni as soon as I get it back from my beta and finish any corrections. Make sure to leave lots of comments on this one! 

“I will not do this. He cannot force me to marry some strange man for his own selfish grab for power.”

“He can. You know he does this with your best interests in mind, my lady. And everything is already arranged. You leave in the morning.”

You listen to the now familiar argument as you fold your mistress’s garments into the opulently decorated trunks. A door slams, followed by a crash like something delicate hit the wall and a high-pitched scream resonated throughout the massive bedroom.

You sigh tiredly, knowing that the woman’s ire was going to be filling your own ears next.

“What are you doing, ___? I just said I wasn’t going.”

Lady Eleanor Rose D’Aily flounced back into her bed chambers, her rosy lips turned down in a petulant pout and her wilting golden curls bouncing around as she flung herself across her bed.

“I’m afraid Master Steward already spoke with me while you were on your afternoon ride. He ordered me to pack your belongings and warned that guards would be here to escort us at first light. And,” you add, flashing a warning glance at your impulsive charge, “He informed me that guards are being placed outside of your doors and windows should you attempt to escape your fate.”

“Ugg, this is torturous. Why is Papa doing this? I always thought he’d want to keep me close. Why send me to some old man that I’ve never met and will never love?”

“I dare say he believes he secured his beloved child a bridegroom most could only dream of. After all, you’ve been selected by the King of Verinthia himself - who is not yet thirty, mind you. You’re to be Queen Eleanor of Verinthia. Think of all the wondrous things you can do for your people.”

At that her lady sighed, pondering that point. For though your mistress was unarguably spoiled, she still had a good heart. You had no doubt that if she were to be Queen, a great deal of good would be done under her reign.

“But...Jungkook. I don’t want to marry anyone but Jungkook.”

And that was the core of this rebellion. As cliché as it was, Lady Eleanor - the only child of the Duke Of Nevers - was in love with a mere Knight.  

Sir Jungkook Jeon had basically been raised right alongside Eleanor after being sent by his Baron father to foster under the Duke. The lad was the youngest of eight and there was nothing left for him to inherit, so he was sent out to make his own way in the world.

He had started as a pageboy at the age of nearly eight, became the Duke’s squire at fourteen, and had been knighted and declared Captain of Lady Eleanor’s guard at eighteen. All of his formative years had been spent here at Nevers and all of them included his tiny blonde shadow begging for some scrap of his attention. The fact that somewhere along the line that childhood friendship morphed into love did not surprise you overly much.

Especially since you had been their third wheel for just as many years, and they were your dearest friends - as much as one can be friends between nobles and servants.

You had been assigned to the six-year-old Eleanor when you had been eleven, and she had always treated you more as a big sister than simply her personal maid. Therefore, you had been dragged through every mischievous plot the two had come up with, listened to them wax poetic about each other until you wished your ears would fall off, and helped transport letters between the two like their own personal pigeon.

However, no one cheered for their love more than you, either. Your lady was pampered and naïve but possessed a kind heart and a fun-loving personality that made her hard to dislike. Add to that Sir Jungkook’s honor and legendary ambition - tempered by his mischievous tendencies - and you had a match blessed by the heavens.

As far as you were aware, he’d been the very picture of Knightly chivalry and had not given in to your lady’s more impulsive urges for…taking liberties. Though you could often catch him staring longingly at Eleanor, she often bemoaned his refusal to so much as kiss his lord’s daughter beyond a chivalrous one on the back of her hand.

And now - now the poor Sir Jungkook was going to have to watch the love of his life being sent to the King. Your heart aches for the pair.

You watch as a single glistening tear rolls down your lady’s flawless cheeks.

“Do you think Papa and His Majesty will at least let me keep Jungkook as my Captain?”

You sigh and sit next to her, reaching over to run your fingers through her hair soothingly.

“He’s going to be part of our escort, but that’s it. Once we reach the palace, the Duke has stated that he’ll be granting Jungkook leave from the remaining year of service he owed - along with a keep of his own for his many years faithfully served. I heard him say it was about time Sir Jungkook started a family of his own.”

“And that’s not going to happen with anyone but my Ellie.”

The two of you whirled when the words reached you from her balcony, where a disheveled Sir Jungkook heaved himself from the massive oak he had climbed to get there.

“Jungkook!” Eleanor exclaimed happily, throwing herself at the beaming Knight.

How beautiful they looked together, even with Eleanor’s eyes reddened from tears and the leaves and twigs adorning Jungkook’s long ebony hair which had long been released from it’s usual leather tie.

“Greetings, Sis,” Jungkook grins cheekily over Eleanor’s shoulder at you.

“Evening greetings to you, Sir J…” Jungkook clears his throat at you in warning. You sigh wearily, “Fine. Greetings, Jungkook. What brings you to a chamber where you’re likely to get all our heads lopped off?”

His grin transforms into a smile of triumph as he holds Eleanor to his side tightly. “I had an idea!”

“Ooh, yes. That is news,” you nod, letting humor color your tone in the privacy of this room.

Eleanor giggles while Jungkook merely rolls his eyes. “I’m deadly serious. I have a solution that will be wonderful for us all.”

“Ohhh, My handsome Knight is so wise,” Eleanor sighs and leans her head into the preening man’s shoulder.

“You haven’t even heard the plan yet. It could be absurd,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“It’s...a little absurd,” Jungkook muses aloud, and you grunt at Eleanor as if to say ‘Told you so.’

“Out with it, my love. I’m willing to consider anything to get us out of this madness,” She implores him with an impatient tug on his sapphire tunic - the one that Eleanor had hand-embroidered herself for nearly two years, you noticed.

“I will indeed escort you to the palace. However, once there…” Jungkook begins nervously, while you glare at him in suspicion. He refuses to meet your eyes straight on. This was never a good sign.

“Yes? Once there…” you prompt with a quirked eyebrow.

“Once there...you’ll switch with Ellie,” he says with an audible gulp. “She’ll pretend to be your maid in public and you’ll be the King’s betrothed. I’ll tell the Duke that I will stay on as Captain of the guard until I receive several copies of the deed to the keep he promised me. Once I have that in hand, Ellie and I will wed and it will be too late for him to stop us. You can simply tell the King that you don’t think you’ll suit and then I’ll spirit you both away to my keep!”

You were appalled. “So many sins in that one little plan. So many lies and…” you angrily huffed, folding your arms. “Jungkook, no one is going to believe that I’m a Duke’s daughter, nor a candidate to be Queen. My mother is a seamstress and my father is a tanner. I don’t have a single drop of noble blood in my veins. I’ll be found out and beheaded in a day.”

“Oh, but you’ve essentially been raised in a Duke’s household,” Eleanor added helpfully, obviously on board with Jungkook’s foolish plan for the simple reason that it came out of his mouth. “You were right at my side through every lesson and know everything as well as I,” she cocked her head as she stared at you thoughtfully. “And not that it will come to that, but I think you would make a wonderful Queen.”

Jungkook smiles fondly at his love, bringing her hand up to his lips to place a chaste kiss on the back of it before he strides purposely towards you. The Knight falls to one knee before you and grasps both of your hands into his, looking up at you with warm brown eyes.

“You have always been our dearest friend and the sister of our hearts, no matter our stations. I know what I’m asking of you is more than a simple favor - it’s a risk to our lives, though mainly yours. Know that I do not ask lightly, for your life is as precious to me as my Ellie’s. This is the only way I can think of to save myself and her from a life of misery. I have tried everything, Sis. I...I even dropped to my knees and begged the Duke for permission to court her.”

“You did what? When was this?” Eleanor exclaimed, and even you leaned forward in shocked wonder.

“A fortnight ago. That’s when he offered me the keep. He simply laughed at my request and said that I have been too isolated here and must have forgotten that other women exist beyond these walls. That I only offered for Ellie out of familiarity. He said perhaps if he hadn’t had better offers for her he would have considered it since I am a fine man, but he’d already talked up the King and no one could ask for better than that,” he finishes with a mocking scoff.

You sigh heavily and glance out the balcony window at the darkening sky. It was true that all seemed rather hopeless for the two of them. No doubt if you ignored this plan and simply went forward with the way it was supposed to, Eleanor would despise you. You would be instrumental in denying her from being with her love and shuffled off to an affectionless arranged marriage. Jungkook would either go off to his keep and live alone forever or demand a position in the palace to keep watch over her from afar, breaking his own heart day after day.

But...there was also your own self to consider. Say you did this thing...you would have to pretend for however long it took for Jungkook to get his affairs in order that you were the daughter of one of the most powerful nobles in the land. That there was something about you worth placing on the throne next to the young King and ruling over the lives of thousands. And if you were to slip up even once, you could spend the rest of your life in the dungeon or beheaded in the royal courtyard.

If you were wiser, perhaps less sentimental, you would say them nay. You would continue packing and close your ears to their pleas. However, when Eleanor drops to her knees next to Jungkook and stares at you imploringly with tears in her pretty blue eyes, twining her hand into her love’s like it might be the last time, you knew you were going to relent. No two people deserved to be with each other more than they. And besides, if this plot were successful, you would tag along to the new keep with them and happily stand at their side as they built a new life together, full of love and hope, and possibly children. You certainly had doubts about the two of them as parents without you around anyway. Jungkook would give their child a real sword at two years and wonder why people were missing ears. Eleanor would cry when it came time to change a nappie.

“Get up, you two,” you grunt wearily. What had you done to deserve being stuck with these two for life? “I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Eleanor squealed, throwing herself onto you with a whirl of costly silk and rose oil.

You nod. “I will do my best. Just know that if I die, I will haunt both of you.”

Jungkook grins, “We’d deserve it.”

He grabs your hand and places a brisk kiss on the back of it, then does the same for Eleanor before striding back towards the balcony.

“Get some rest, ladies. We leave at first light and it will take us several days to reach the palace by carriage.”

He vaults over the balcony onto the oak tree and disappears from sight. Eleanor sighs and sits next to you on the bed, lacing an arm in yours and placing her head on your shoulder.

“Think you this scheme will work?” She asks softly.

“It has to,” you whisper.

And it does. The consequences if it did not were far too dire.

[smoochi-dazai]

can i request a fluffy dazai x reader,, where dazai & reader celebrate after a successful mission or something,, and they go to a bar to drink,, and reader is actually the type of person who gets drunk really fast so dazai needs to take care of them and reader ends up confessing to dazai. reader is like,, flirty + giggly drunk. bonus if dazai teases them about it next morning hehe,, ty in advance!!

✿ “ Love & Champaign ” ✿

—> Bungo Stray Dogs, Dazai Osamu | Reader

—> Sweet | Oneshot

—> Description | after one too many drinks for the celebration, you find yourself in a daze while staring at Dazai. Slurred flirts lead to a confession, will you handle the embarrassment? 

—> Little note | not gonna lie, this is like my... my favourite so far.i got carried away tonight haha. 3.8k words! HhhH I got too distracted by cuteness, it’s almost 2am. I started this at 10pm I think. Please enjoy! Sorry if it’s a mess 💕 came from the heart and I never plan ahead for this stuff haha. I just write it as it flows from my soul. 

Shifting her weight, the women of familiarity sat comfortably next to Dazai on a tall wooden stool. Her beautiful eyes seemed to grasp onto his heart as she held an angelic appearance. That far off look in her dilated pupils due to the dim lighting, a thoughtless expression purely in her eyes alone- he found it unimaginably attractive. Observing each small detail from the flush on her cheeks to the strands of hair framing her face perfectly.

That woman is you.

The same very person who was invited by none other then Dazai himself to have a drink together, a celebration for a hard task full day at work.

“ So, How come you ordered an extra glass of champagne? ” You inquired, “ Did you invite someone to come drink with us? ”

Glancing to your right, the bartender was the first to gently set the glass half-full of rather expensive wine on the counter you sat at. He was friendly, much older than you or Dazai by appearance. Without a word, he set yours and Dazais glass’s down before leaving you two on your own.

“ It’s for a friend, he won’t be showing up tonight. ” Dazai muttered softly.

“ If he won’t be here, then how come you bought the drink? ” You pushed on for some kind of answer to satisfy the curiosity, looking away from the mysterious drink. Your eyes now focused on Dazai, he held a faint smile while staring at his glass of alcohol. Eyes downcast, appearing to be lost in his thoughts.

As his lips part, Dazai lets out a gentle sigh. Opening his mouth more to find words to reach you, nothing came out. Shutting it again, Dazai raised his hand to the glass, however— instead of picking it up to taste the alcoholic drink, a slight chime echoed through the bar from Dazai flicking the glass once. The spherical ice began to bob up and down in the glass, vibrations from the clash gave him a familiar sense of nostalgia.

Finally, he spoke up.

“ Odasaku. He, Ango and I would often meet here to talk. Those days are long gone now, however. ”

Something in Dazais tone seemed off, you were all too aware of his masks to hide the scars of his past. It was tough, you knew it was— not only for him but you as well. Whenever you’d try to convince him to vent his pain, he’d laugh it off and ask what you were talking about.

Something about those situations always made you hurt, the feeling of uselessness would grasp your heart. Making it almost hard to breathe, the feeling of being unable to help Dazai when his eyes held so much pain he’d try to hideaway. It wasn’t healthy— you wanted to help him but never found yourself capable of doing.

Staying silent, the two of you seemed more distant than ever. In an attempt to clear the atmosphere, you thought of a silly idea that may help. Sliding your drink closer to Odasakus, you found yourself tap the two glasses against each other. As a form of cheers to Odasaku even though he wasn’t quite there to see. The sound of two glasses made Dazai lift his head, staring at you in slight confusion and bewilderment.

“ Cheers,” You exclaim in a hushed tone, “ I never got to meet you. But from all the stories I hear from Dazai, you were a brilliant man. ”

Speechless, Dazai’s gaze leaves your back as soon as you begin to turn around. His own flush of blush began to sink into his skin, thinking over your odd interaction with his past friend. Lifting his drink, a warm smile met his lips.

“ Hey, how about a toast? ” Dazais voice caught your attention, lifting your glass to his.

“ Sure, what’ll it be for this time? ” Assuming it’ll be for your hard day of work at the detective's agency, it somehow didn’t surprise you with what he had said next.

“ To the Stray Dogs. ”

Dazais features held an enchanting smile, cheeks rose while a faint flush could be spotted. Not enough to notice unless you’re close, along with the lighting it was hard to point out. He seemed to genuinely be enjoying himself, just you— him and don’t forget Odasaku.

“ Before we do that, give me a second. ”

You seemed to confuse Dazai more by the minute, yet it seemed to amuse him the more you did so. It wasn’t common for something to surprise that man. It gave him a refreshing chill.

Still holding up your glass, you carefully reach over for Odasakus as well. Lifting it, both hands were now full. Your smile looked ridiculous at this point from the amount of sheer joy. It started to hurt honestly, but you didn’t mind at all. Preparing to have a toast, both glasses were held high for Dazai to join you on the toast in celebration. After a moment of silence, Dazai pushed his glass forward in the air. Hearing the clatter between three glasses, more nostalgia hit him.

“ To the stray dogs! ” / “ To the stray dogs. ” You both say in unison.

Mismatching smiles were viable as you set Odasakus drink back down before downing yours a little too quickly. Meanwhile, Dazai takes a small sip of his, feeling the burning sensation of beer rush down his system.

Both Dazai and you were always pretty close friends within the agency, maybe it was because you somehow tolerated his nonsense without having to smack him. He didn’t find you that interesting from afar, yet now he can never get that side glanced look out of his head from before. You were something he adored, something he found as a sort of coping mechanism from the pain he truly felt within his hollow heart. He never saw you as something similar to him, you were full of life, a flame that never seemed to falter or be brushed away by the gusts of wind.

A deadly nightshade in his system that refused to leave—no matter his aggression, you were always at his side. He’d push you away, he’d raise his voice and tell you how wrong you are when you make absurd accusations of who he really is. Little did you know, they were all true. Or were you aware? Was that why you never seemed dazed by his harsh words? Either way, he knew you both wouldn’t have the chance to get any closer. Always being caught up in work was a struggle, you were just like the rest of the agency. Just a stranger to him deep down— why did the idea make his heart clench? Was his body telling himself another story then he had thought? Truth be told, he couldn’t tell what his feelings for you had been.

“ Hey... Osamu? ”

The thought of falling in love with you was odd. But at the same time, just the idea made butterflies swell up within his stomach. You were incredibly strange, but so was he.

“ Osamu~ ” You whined while leaning closer to him, scooting your stool closer and closer without him noticing. Was he that out of it?

Finally snapping out of it, the feeling of warmth brushing against his skin caught him at a somewhat vulnerable point. Gazing to the source of heat, he came to the realization you were calling his name. But not just any name, not your usual ‘Dazai’ it was his first name that escaped your plump lips. A giant pout was adorned in your features as you lean closer to his face. He lifted a hand to the part where your breath hit his neck, feeling the hairs stand.

“ Hey, stop ignoring me- Osamu! ”

As his eyes met with hers, she started giggling. Leaning away from the bandaged man known as Dazai, she smiles childishly. Both legs swing back and forth.

“ Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? They’re like yummy chocolate...” You chant to yourself and him. “ You’re so handsome~ I’m almost jealous! ”

This was not common for you to be so straight forward, and going by the sudden change in attitude Dazai could only assume you’d already gotten yourself drunk. Sighing deeply, he could only pray you wouldn’t be as much of a handful as Chūya had on his off days.

Speaking of which, either you got drunk abnormally quick— or he was a little too trapped in his thoughts.

Observing your every motion, Dazai put his drink to side calmly. Never once losing his composure, an amused smirk makes his way to his lips. Oh, how he’s going to enjoy teasing you in the morning— he can only wonder how many embarrassing things he could make you say tonight.

“ Thank you, I think you’re rather beautiful yourself. ” Dazai said, the smile remaining in place which only seemed to encourage your flirts unexpectedly.

“ You say that to every girl, ” You mutter, leaning closer to him again while squinting your eyes. Feeling a little light-headed, or did you feel heavier? You couldn’t tell. “ Your smirking is ever hotter... nngh, you’re so perfect~ how do women complain about you so much. If you value that double suicide thingy, doesn’t that just mean your that much more committed? To end everything with them? ”

Dazai decided to reply with a small hum, lifting his glass and taking a sip of his leftover drink. Yours meanwhile had been empty to awhile, how did you manage to get drunk over a single glass? Or did you get another without his eyes catching you? Frankly, he didn’t care, amused with the scenario at play. Something caught his attention though, you’d always disagree with his requests for a lover's suicide while sober. But now you’re complaining about other women not wanting to do it. Does this mean you actually wouldn’t mind going to such extreme lengths with him? God, he was in for a lot tonight. He could tell.

“ You always have a cute smile, you’re talented as hell— ” your speech was replaced with a small fit of giggles, tears escaping your eyes which mildly concerned him for a moment, “ You never fail to make laugh... when I cry, you’re there for me through it all. Maybe your ability is right, you aren’t human! ”

A small laugh escapes Dazais throat at your slurred nonsense, Dazai then enlightens you on his thoughts.

“ If I’m not human,” Dazai began, shifting his body to look at your questioningly, an eyebrow lifted while the other furrowed. “ ...then what would I be, Belladonna?”

“ An angel! ”

Did he hear you right? Was he, the ex-port mafia member— titled as an angel in disguise?

You almost seemed in awe at your own words, making it twice as amusing for him. Before he could even speak, you interrupted his thoughts again.

“ Osamu? Am I allowed to be in love with an angel? Can a human fall for an angel without consequence... will you leave me behind to go to heaven by yourself? ” You questioned him in an unsure whisper, fatigue showing more than the bright red flush coating your cheeks. Those half-lidded eyes gave you away, but you seemed to still manage to keep your consciousness.

Dazai takes a moment to grasp what your spiral of words meant, was this a form of confession? Did you feel that way about him, or were they meaningless drunk words? Surely they had to be, but something about your saddened eyes ... Dazai thought of it plenty of times and found himself really picking his words carefully.

“ I’m not any kind of angel, but I’m sure you’ll find an angel to love you someday. My true nature is nothing but evil, Belladonna. I’m sorry, I can’t be your angel— even if I want too...” Dazai apologized with a more sadden tone, smiling slightly as he brushed his hand through your messy hair.

Both your stools were sat so close, you practically could lean against him safely without falling. And that’s exactly what you found yourself doing.

“ But even Lucifer was once an angel... why can’t you be mine—Osamu, if you can’t be my angel... then... ” Lifting your head off his shoulder, your lazy hands lift to cup his face.

“ Be my handsome- my.. partner in crime, my own Lucifer. ” You mutter close to his ear, something about your tone was somewhat alluring and even seductive. Shutting your eyes tightly while leaning in, your noses brushed against each other, then as you tilted your head you brush your lips against his as if asking for some kind of permission- there was hesitation for a split second. Only for your lips to connect with his forcefully, that’s what sealed the deal. Would he pull away? You desperately held onto him, though your grasp was rather weak due to alcohol in your system.

An abnormal feeling in his heart appeared again, it began to pound in his ears faster by the second— even skipping a couple of beats. What was this? Why did he feel this way, he didn’t deserve it- so why did God bless him with you. Was there a god? If he agreed, would you be willing to go to depths of hell with him, just for some silly love? No, it was more than that for you. You had genuine feelings for him, you cared for the suicidal maniac. His eyes remain open during the kiss, feeling a presence behind you. That’s when he saw a distant light at the door of Lupins bar. There stood Odasaku, smiling at him.

Was this right? Odasaku once said Dazai would never find something to fill that void in his heart. Yet his heart felt like it could burst at any second, tears began to brim his eyes while Odasakus blurry image faded. As the first tear slides down Dazais cheek, he wrapped both arms around your waist, shutting his eyes during the kiss to enjoy you. Pressing your body closer with his than ever before, the kiss deepened. It was so incredibly sloppy, but it was perfect for all its imperfections.

Even if his demons were to ever return, Dazai would protect you just as Odasaku did for him. Odasaku saved Dazai from imaginable darkness in the Mafia, even if it put him through pain- he’s met so many kinder people in the light. Meeting a new world, a world more beautiful and full of colour,

Odasaku standing there almost felt as it’s own congratulations, not to only his hard work- but he was proud of Dazai. The tears pour uncontrollably while the kiss lasted for almost a whole minute. Both pulling away, they panted together- taking each other’s breath away completely. Pulling you into his chest, Dazai combed back your hair, allowing you to rest against him for a while in blissful silence.

He couldn’t let you see him tear up like this. All he cared about now, was his pure happiness. The idea of his lonely days being brushed away now swept away with the wind. He knew this won’t cure his pain, and it hurt to remember. So all he tried to do was forget that pain for a minute, allowing you to take over his mind.

He loves you.

And now that he understood the feelings were mutual? Dazai could maybe learn to be himself more often with you around.

After a while of his deep thoughts, Dazais bandaged arm around your waist relaxed. While your body fell limp against him, you were knocked out cold. Smiling to himself, Dazai looked at the bartender's familiar smile- it was the same person who worked there from ages ago.

Taking you out for a drink wasn’t a mistake after all, though the idea of Kunikida getting pissed with you two because you’ll probably have a pretty bad hangover in the morning at work is gonna be troublesome. Guess it’s an excuse to stay home with you.

“ I’ll be your Lucifer, as long as you continue being my beautiful Belladonna. ” Smiling gently to himself, Dazai began to lift you off of him. Slipping off the stool, he changed your position. One arm was beneath your knees while the other hoisted up to your back. Holding you close to his chest, he thanked the bartender and left the bar. Three glasses were left behind on the table.

In the morning, you woke up feeling sick to your stomach. A pounding heartbeat was left ringing in your head as you sat up in your bed, when did you ever return home? Struggling to remember what happened in the bar with Dazai, you throw your legs off your bed. Lifting yourself, you began to stumble. Suddenly a buzz came from your phone, tripping over your own feet you fall into your bed again. Groaning tiredly, you felt so weak right now. What in the world? How much did you drink last night to get like this... oh yeah- the phone. Lazily throwing your hand up onto your bedside table, you search for your phone. Only for someone else to take it from you. Lifting your head from the mattress, your eyes widen at the sight of a shirtless Dazai. Feeling self-conscious you then realize you were wearing next to nothing either. Suddenly your face bursts into flames, becoming a stuttering mess.

“ Dazai- w-we didn’t do anything bad last night did we? ” You blurted out, he took notice of your embarrassment and smiles innocently.

“ Of course not, we just came to your house and I helped you strip to sleep easier~ your body is incredibly hot if I do say so myself, Belladonna. Shame you hide it all the time. ”

“ You’re one to talk Dazai, always covered in b- wait... you stripped me?! ” more flush coated your cheeks, picking up a pillow— you threaten to throw it at Dazai. Almost I’m que, your head suddenly began to pound again, throwing the pillow at his feet instead.

Concerned, Dazai rushed out of the room to get you some water. Returning to the room to find you holding your mouth and stomach while hunching over, he could only worry more while crouching down. Lifting your head gently, he held the glass of water to your lips.

“ Drink it slowly,” he instructed almost like a parent or some boyfriend, worried about your health. He guessed the teasing must be saved for later, your health is a priority to him. Unless...

Following the orders, you grasp the cup in his hand while he still assisted with a simple task. It was rather endearing, who knew Dazai could be so gentle. The water went down smoothly, feeling a little clearer in the head at least. But then suddenly you felt it begin to come back up- dashing out of your room you find your bathroom.

Dazai chases after you, finding you hunched over the Toilet gagging. It wasn’t an attractive scene, in the slightest. But he found himself smile- remembering last night.

Kneeling to your height, his hand gently caressed your back. Soothing you slightly as you confuse to gag- he remained at your side through it all. As your system felt clearer it finally ended, lifting your head from the toilet bowl, you flush the toilet. Staring nervously back at Dazai, “ I’m sorry you have to see me like this, I hope I wasn’t a handful last night. I hardly remember anything, what I do know is it gave me a massive headache though. ” You curse out loud, head refusing to give you any mercy.

“ It’s alright, I know it’s rough the first couple drinks. ” Dazai smiles, it was so sincere you couldn’t help but question what lightened his mood so much. You weren't complaining though, it made your heart flutter. “ Not only that, but you said some pretty bold things while you were drunk~ ”

Oh god. You knew it was coming- the bastard was prepared to tease you for how long now?... oh sweet god.

Dramatically throwing his arms around him, he began to wiggle.

“ You’re so handsome~ oh you’re perfect Osamu~!” He teased, enjoying how embarrassed you got. “ Be my Lucifer! You muttered in my ear, ah~ Belladonna your way with words made my heart soar. ”

“ Shut up, there is no way I said all of that to you. ”

“ Playing denial now are we, my sweet Belladonna?~ want me to continue? ” Dazai challenged, it was all playful but it still had you fuming with frustration and embarrassment.

“ Do I even have a choice? ” You frown, feeling defeated. And while you complain, the small awkward smile and blush gave away your true emotions.

“ This time, you do. ”

To your surprise, his words took you a moment to understand. Looking at him disbelief, you saw a playful smirk- that smirk was way too damn attractive yet the dangerous intent was terrifying.

“ Just kidding~ how could I let a chance like this pass up? ”

Knew it.

“ Though, I do have a question. ” Dazais tone suddenly becomes more serious, no longer as playfully and happy-go-lucky as before. Leaving you confused, until he lifted you off the ground. Pulling you into a hug, you could feel his breath against your ear.

“ If all you said is true, would you commit a lover's suicide with me someday? ” The question seemed a little too silly but a part of you couldn’t turn it down at this very moment, maybe because of how serious he seemed while saying it.

“ Maybe?... ” You whisper back weakly, unsure of yourself.

“ Let me rephrase,” Dazais grasp on you became stronger until he pushed you away a little, just enough for you to be face to face. Holding your shoulders, his arms snake around your waist instead in a split second- eyes staring deeply into yours.

“ Will you be mine? ”

In reality, he was just repeating what you had told him many times during that drunken state, but the fact he was the one to ask you out here in your home? You could faint again. Nodding with a small smile, you tried to hold back a stupid goofy grin. With that response, Dazai holds you close to him, his arms felt so secure- you couldn’t help but relax under his touch.

You two finally were official, and you were both finally happy. He found his reason to live and even received Odasakus approval. But it wouldn’t end at that, oh no.

“ You know this isn’t saving you from my teasing, yes? ” Dazai chuckles, sending shivers down your spine while expecting only the best of the worst for your fate. You were defeated, but the happiness distracted you from the cruelty of his future teasing.

“ I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dork. ”

Tags : @i-am-a-bastard @writing-for-me-at-this-point @soukokuwu 

[johnkrrasinski]

So It Goes... 

full masterlist

Pairings: Rock star/Bassist!Bucky Barnes x female!reader (AU)

Word count: 7,149 

Warning: fluff, SMUT! but mostly just me falling in love with bucky, really.

Summary: natasha romanoff aka your annoying roommate coerced you into the howling commando’s live performance at a divebar near your dorm. little did you know, it was going to lead you to the man of your dreams aka the charming rock star boy/bassist, james buchanan barnes.

a/n: this one’s written for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​‘s “Little Darlin’s Mysteru AU” challenge. i chose band/rockstar au. here’s another love letter to bucky barnes because i love that man with my entire heart and every fic that i write about him is basically just me expressing my deep affection for this man. hope you guys enjoy this one cause i certainly do! also, rock star/boy band bucky is such a concept omg i’m in love

You laid in your twin-sized bed as you heard the chirping sounds of the birds outside of your window. They were singing cheerily as if they knew what you were feeling and they were celebrating with you. It felt like you were in a Disney movie that you used to obsess over as a kid, where you are the lovestruck princess because you just met a handsome prince who swept you off your feet at first sight.

The birds outside of your window are your animal pals who swoon over you swooning and they spontaneously harmonize and dance to this newfound joy. You couldn’t resist the smile taking over your face. It was too early for you to be awake on a Saturday morning. You were always up by 10 AM. No more, no less. But it was currently 8.45 AM and you still had at least one more hour to get up and be productive.

But not today. Today, you were going to welcome this exhilarating sensation in your bones, and you were going to savour every second of it. Because you couldn’t shake away those baby blue eyes and that suave, boyish charm. The way, they electrified you by first glance and made you tremble when those pupils dilated. You could still feel the way his soft, plump lips hypnotized you last night. And the raunchy way he held you at the bar.

Even when all was said and done, he found a way to haunt you in your dreams.

And you didn’t mind one bit.

-

You were currently in the middle of a crisis due to your upcoming final week. If there’s any word to describe you as a college student, it would be ambitious. The idea of failing or getting less than B+ makes you go ballistic. You were an active student. You joined multiple organizations that expanded your social life. You got along with mostly everyone in your classes and you had your professors’ respect too for your excellent grades and polite manners.

But your lack of dating life irked no one else more than your roommate, Natasha. You loved Natasha with your entire heart, really. She was like a sister to you. You were an only child so you cherished her older sister role in your life. She was, in fact, several months older than you and she always protected you like her own. Starting from the asshole that broke your heart in high school, despite only knowing him through your story, to incessantly pushing you to stop being such a nerd and have more fun.

Natasha was the kind of woman you don’t wanna mess with. She was loyal, brave and quick-witted. She knows how to keep her GPA high, whilst also maintaining a fun social life. She managed to do it all so effortlessly. 

“C’mon, y/n! Just one night! You need to let loose and release all tension on your shoulders, baby. It’s good for your brain before finals start!”

“Noooo, Nat. Rock bands are not my thing and I’d have a higher chance of acing the tests if I study now, okay? Just go. Have fun without me and tell me how it goes.”

“But my boyfriend’s performing, y/n. And I want you to meet him! I promise they are really good. Even if you're not into the music, you can still go for the drinks, right? Also, they’ve got other cute members available so, you might find your own rock band boyfriend too if you go.” She winked. Her smirk was menacing.

“Ugh, I’m not interested in finding a boyfriend, Nat.”

“I know, but wouldn’t hurt if you do, right? Then we can go on double dates and have them write songs about us. Oh God, it’s going to be awesome.”

“Whoa, slow down. I haven’t even learned their names, yet and we are already discussing double dates?”

“Alright, let’s just start with putting on your sexy clothes and meet them yourself. Then we can move onto picking one gorgeous beast for you.”

“What makes you even think that they’d be interested in me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. Have you never owned a mirror? You are a total babe. You just need to get yourself more action.”

“Ugh, I don’t know, Nat…”

“You are going. And I’m not leaving until you get up and put on something cool. I have patience, baby and I’m going to annoy you all night if you stay. What do you prefer? Going out and have fun and meet some cute boys or me annoying you all night so you can’t study productively.” She glared at you. Her tone indicated that there was no compromise.

“Alright, I’m going. But that’s only because I wanna meet your boyfriend, alright? Not because I wanna find a boyfriend or whatever stupid shit you’re thinking.”

“Yay!” She jumped in excitement. Her face was content with joy and satisfaction from succeeding in persuading you. “Alright, let’s dig through your clothes.” She started rummaging your shared closet and observed meticulously each one of your outfits. “Hmm… Let’s try this one!” She picked up a strapless black sequin dress that you hadn’t worn in forever. You didn’t even remember packing it up in your baggage and brought it with you to your dorm.

You began stripping yourself out of your oversized hoodie and high-waisted shorts. You didn’t feel embarrassed changing in front of Natasha, you had seen each other naked many times. You were roommates after all and sometimes, you just had to be comfortable with the fact that you had private body parts underneath and within the course of four years, eventually, you had to get used to flashing one another at some point.  

You put it on as you started to feel a little uncomfortable. You weren’t used to wearing skimpy dresses. Already wearing it for less than three minutes, you were constantly lifting the hem of the dress to prevent it from exposing your boobs and revealing your inner thighs. And the material felt itchy on your skin too. “Nat, I’m not sure about this. Let’s just wear a leather jacket and jeans.”

“Nonsense! You look bomb! Give your leather jacket and jeans a break, alright? Okay, turn around so I can see your behind.”

You twirled as she said, restlessly.

Tonight was going to be a longspun night…

-  

The air felt crisp against your skin, as the breeze swept through your freshly curled hair, causing a few strands shading your sight. You struggled to walk steadily in your 7-inch heels that belonged to Natasha because you didn’t have a pair of your own. You were cool with wearing ankle boots pairing them with a sparkly dress. But Natasha didn’t think it was a cute look.

“What? Boots and dresses don’t go along, honey. Oh my, you need a serious makeover!” She was derailed.

You eventually settled with a silk red dress with a seductively low cleavage on the front, exposing the globes of your breasts. You were already as uncomfortable as it is, this dress didn’t make it any easier to act normal.

So you had to endure walking in these deadly shoes of torture, whilst clad in nothing but a scanty material with makeup painting your entire face. Great. What had you gotten yourself into? Damn you, Natasha.

You and Nat were walking arm in arm to the bar where “The Howling Commandos” were performing. That’s the name of the band that Natasha’s boyfriend was in. They have been a group for 5 years now, they had been doing this since they were in high school. Clint and the rest of the members were several years older than you and Nat. As soon as they graduated, they decided that they wanted to keep making music rather than working mundane, dead-end jobs.

Yep, Natasha told you that much.

Clint and Nat had been dating for two years now. They rarely saw each other due to the band’s packed schedule. Although, they would FaceTime each other every night, talking about each other’s days. You heard it all, from their most disgustingly adorable flirtations, to the most inappropriate, not so PG-13 confession.

They would literally pretend to smooch one another through the screen when you were doing your homework or when you had your nose deep in a book. You’d try to cover your ears by putting on your earbuds and turning up the volume so you could give them privacy but also, you didn’t wanna hear them talking about what they wanted to do to each other if both of them were here.

You knew Clint well enough to not feel like you were meeting a complete stranger. Natasha would often tell you to say hi to him and she had told you a lot of wonderful things to Clint. Clint would often talk about the band too on the phone, how someone called “Bucky” would piss him off by stealing his leftover sandwich. Or someone called “Sam” would often interrupt their chat by reminding him that it was soundcheck time.  

“I gotta go, babe. Sammy’s not gonna stop yelling.”

“Aw, okay, tell the boys I say hi! Love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

It’s like a daily podcast for you every night.

The dive bar where The Howling Commandos were performing thankfully wasn’t that far from your dorm. Natasha was super thrilled when Clint told them that they were going to perform here. They were finally able to see each other after a while, and because this was going to be their last gig until they come back with a new album, he said he was going to stay and spend some time with Nat.

You were happy for both of them. You’d never say it out loud but, a part of you was secretly jealous of their love. They managed to maintain such a fun, loving, and healthy relationship despite the distance and differences. Natasha once told you that she was never one to settle with a man for too long but, Clint changed the game for her. You smiled at the thought. They were genuinely in love. If you were to find yourself a boyfriend, you wanted the type of love that they had.

But not tonight. You were okay with being single. Just because a part of you wanted what Clint & Nat had, doesn’t mean that you actually need it or you’d die. You were too much of a goal-oriented person to be chasing over something that should come naturally. You had grown so comfortable in being alone, that you stopped desiring love so much. It wasn’t getting you anywhere. So you lived your life, being grateful for your friends and family. You invested your time in your education and passion. You were content.

When you arrived at the bar, the room was full with a crowd. You walked in with Natasha trying to make a space for yourself so you could walk through them. You could barely anything else due to the number of bodies blocking your view. Natasha held your hand as she took the lead and fought through the crowd to get to the front, where she could get the best view.

There was a blonde-haired woman standing on the front, so close to where the band were going to play. When Natasha slightly grazed her whilst trying to stand next to her, she didn’t look the slightest bit happy. She glared at Natasha as Natasha noticed. She glared back at her.

“Excuse me, there’s more space in the back, maybe you can stand there instead of cutting through the line.”

“Excuse you, miss. I’m dating the band’s drummer, so I can stand wherever I want, thank you very much. If you don’t like that, then the exit is right there.” She pointed to the door of where we walked in from.

The blonde woman rolled her eyes as she folded her arms against her chest. After you stared at her reaction, you realized that you actually know her. She was in the same social science class with you. You had never really talked to her because she often sat in the back and immediately left after the class was done, but you remembered her name. Her name was Dottie Underwood. Your classmates called her Dot. The ones that she liked anyway.

You decided to stay quiet and let it pass. It’s not like she even recognized you even if you start a chat with her. You don’t think it was a good idea either since she and Nat literally just snarked at each other. You directed your sight to the stage and waited for the famous Howling Commandos to appear.

One of the spotlights turned and highlighted a man walking on stage before he talked into the microphone at the centre. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, a group of brilliant lads, that make all the ladies go feral wherever they go, and their showstopping music are going to make us sing and jump tonight. Please welcome, The Howling Commandos!”

The crowd roared with cheers, the sounds of their enthusiasm filled the atmosphere. Their claps were jovially in sync as four, drop-dead gorgeous young men stepped into the stage as their presence shifted the energy in the room.

The first one was a blonde-haired with breathtaking bone structure, forming a ridiculously handsome face. His hair shone under the spotlight like the sun amidst the clear sky. He had an amiable demeanour about him. His smile was gentle and welcoming. He waved to the crowd and stood directly behind the microphone.

The second one to walk in was a dark-skinned man with an undeniable charisma oozing out of him. He had a neatly trimmed beard that only added to his spicy appeal. His smile was radiant as he also waved the crowd. He stood on the left side of the stage, a couple of steps behind Steve who was apparently the lead singer.

The third one to walk in was Clint. He was everything Nat described him to be. Placid and nonchalant. His smile was amenable as he greeted the crowd. He walked directly to the background, where the drumset was placed. He sat down on the drummer’s chair as he picked up the sticks he was going to play with.

The last one to enter was a literal Disney prince coming to life. His prominent boyish charm completely bedazzled you. His blue eyes gleamed under the spotlight as they lingered on you for a second. He immediately shifted his gaze as he kept walking towards the right side of the stage, but you swore that when he caught you staring dumbfoundedly at him, you could see the flash of a quick smirk on his face.

He only nodded to the crowd as he confidently picked up the bass guitar that was previously placed on the floor and put on the leather straps around his neck. His eyes turned back to you as you found yourself still bluntly staring at him. Something about him just enchanted you. He had that boy-next-door charm about him but also, a bad boy persona that was irresistibly enticing.    

That flash of smirk that you saw earlier resurfaced and it was getting harder for you to pay attention to anyone or anything else in the room other than him. His gaze grew more intense as the noises of the crowd faded into the background. You were lost in this lethal game of eye contact until Natasha accidentally elbowed you by screaming her lungs out to respond to the lead singer’s introduction.

“Good evening, SHIELD’s Nest! How are we feeling tonight?” The lead singer vivified the crowd. They responded with a reassuring reaction. “I’m Steve Rogers and these are my buddies,” he turned his head to the left, as he started introducing the other band members.  “The handsome guy right there is Sam, and in the back, there’s Clint, our brilliant drummer boy and this ladies’ charmer right here is Bucky.” As he pointed to the magnetic man who had held your attention hostage since he first walked in.

“And we are The Howling Commandos.” He paused for a second before carrying on with his prelude. “Alright, so the first song that we’re going to play tonight is called ‘Rusted Love’. Enjoy.” Steve removed his mouth from behind the microphone and started cueing the band to play. “1,2…”

Sam and Bucky started strumming the first few notes as a few people cheered. Then Clint jumped in, flaunting his talent in mastering the drum with his sticks. The energy in the room felt more energized as people started moving a part of their bodies. Then Steve amazed the room with his sultry voice, singing the words that echoed through the Sound system of the bar.

“I’m a flying kite in a hurricane, you paralyzed me with your touch and your lips got me addicted…” Steve shut his eyes, relishing the rune. You had a feeling that those lyrics wouldn’t just stay lyrics tonight…

-

They played another four songs that night. The crowd danced, jumped and screamed the words to their song passionately. You, on the other hand, was probably the most tranquil person in the crowd. You didn’t really know much about the band, let alone their music. So when everyone was constantly pushing you because they were too lost in the moment, you eventually tried to get out of the crowd and sat on the bar instead. Natasha was also too lost in supporting her boyfriend, that she almost didn’t notice you leaving.

Through the vibration of the crowd and the music, you had to really lean in to get Natasha’s attention and to get her to hear you. “Nat! I’m gonna sit in the back and wait there. I’m a little thirsty.” She had a giant smile on her face due to the zest the band inflicted. “Okay!” She yelled back, then carried on with her foxy moves.

You struggled to walk through the crowd, trying to not step on anyone’s feet as you made your way to the barstool. What you didn’t notice was, Bucky’s disappointed on his face when he saw you walking out on him. He noticed that you weren’t exactly as thrilled as anyone else. Although, he noticed your stolen glances as you shied away from him when he stared back. He even tried to wink at you once but you immediately looked to the floor, hiding away your blush. He swore he saw the way your cheeks reddened. Not that he wasn’t used to getting that reaction anyway…

You exhaled a breath of relief as you finally broke out of the congested mass of people. You sat on the barstool as you ordered a glass of rum and you waited as the music still reverberated robustly in your ears. You sat there as you started looking through your Instagram. Nat’s icon was the first one to appear in the row and you clicked it to see what you were expecting. She recorded a video of the band, then zoomed in to Clint, as he was ardently drumming the beat.

She put on a heart eyes and fire emoji with the text; “that’s my man!”. The next one was her and you singing along to the second song they played that night. You were able to actually mouth the words after they played the last chorus and you were a quick learner, so you memorized the repeated words easily after the third time. You scrolled through your feed a few more minutes until your order finally arrived.

“Enjoy, miss.” The waiter winked at you. He was probably in his mid-20s, he had warm brown eyes and a sweet smile. His dark hair was slicked back as you stared a little longer than you should. He was obviously attractive, but, you didn’t say anything back to him. You just smiled back in a friendly manner and uttered silenced thanks.

After sitting by yourself for about a half and an hour, like all good things, the show must come to an end. Steve Rogers concluded the show with a final thank you and goodnight as the spotlight shut down, like the drapes closing over a theatrical show. The crowd clapped and some of them started leaving, while others immediately went to the bar to quench the thirst from screaming along to volatile rock music and jumping up and down, getting lost in the tune.

Natasha patted your back as she jumped on the empty chair next to you. Thank God, she was quick on her feet, otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to get a seat. “Hey! God, I need a full shot of whiskey right now.”

“Yeah, go crazy.”

She scoffed. “Huh. As if that wasn’t crazy enough, back there.” She signalled the bartender to make an order. “So, what do you think? That was fun, right?” The cute bartender from earlier walked to her as he asked her what would she like to drink and she quickly replied.

“Yeah, they’re pretty good.”

“Pretty good? They’re damn talented. Especially the drummer back there. He totally killed it.”

“Yeah, okay, they are amazing. But you know their music isn’t my kind of music, so can’t say  I really enjoyed it that much.”

“Okay, but you must’ve at least enjoyed the view, right? Don’t think I didn’t catch you and bass boy making several eye contacts back there.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You took another sip of your glass to cover your embarrassment.

“Oh my God, you totally do! Look at you blushing!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Admit it! You like Bucky, don’t you?” She playfully pushed you to tease you.

“Oh my God, shut up Nat! You’re causing a scene!” You tried to lower yourself, now that you’re able to speak in a normal volume.

“Nope, I won’t stop until you admit it. Don’t worry, y/n, Bucky’s always been a charmer, so I totally get your attraction.”

That caused a peculiar sickness in your chest. It’s not like you were falling in love with Bucky, no. You didn’t even know him enough to like him. He may be an eye-candy but if he’s really as “charming” as everyone is saying, then that means, he’s one of those dangerous fuckboys that you should avoid at all cost. Because that means, he’s probably only going to manipulate you into thinking that he really cares for you, when in reality, he only wanted to get in your pants. Nope, not gonna happen to you. You weren’t going to be a new notch in his belt.

“Well, then that means he is bad news and that gives me even more reason to feel anything but attraction toward him.”

“Oh, no, y/n, I don’t mean it like that. He’s really sweet, and he’s always been the most chill one in the group. Trust me, you’re gonna love him. Just, give him a chance first, alright? I’ve known him long enough to know that he’s into you.”

“Into me? Nat, he doesn’t even know my name.”

“He will.” She winked again, as she took a sip of her whiskey.

Not long after that, Clint appeared from behind, without Nat realizing. He surprised her by wrapping her waist from behind as he whispered into her ears; “how’s my best girl?” Nat was slightly stunned but as soon as she realized it was her boyfriend, her expression instantly turned into a joyful one. “Hi, baby!” They immediately smooched as she wrapped her arms around his neck while standing face to face now.

“Did you like the show?”

“I loved the show, you guys killed it as always. Oh, and by the way, this is y/n, my number one bestie and the best roommate anyone could ever ask for. Now you finally meet her in person!” Her excitement was genuine.

“Hi, y/n! Heard so many great things about you, but you probably can’t say the same, huh?”

“No, actually I can. Nat wouldn’t stop talking about you every night even when I’m blatantly ignoring her.” You joked.

“Well, is that right?” He looked at Nat to assess the truth on her face.

“Yep,” you carried on. “She would say you’re hot, funny and kind, and all these wonderful things. Including the ones that I’m not supposed to hear.”

They laughed. They kissed once more, as Clint stood next to her seat, ordering a drink for himself. Next to you, you could hear Nat saying, “oh, where are the boys? Are they not thirsty?”

“They’re just packing up, babe, they’re gonna join us in a few.”

“Good, ‘cause I think there’s someone y/n would like to meet.” She teasingly wiggled her eyebrows at you, as you sent her a murderous glare. Your lips silently mouthed, “what the fuck?” but Clint picked up her tone and he quickly got the message.

“Oooh, who is it? Is it Steve, Bucky, Sam? Just let me know which one you like and I’ll deliver them at your door tonight, y/n. They’re all single and ready to mingle anytime now.”

You laughed nervously. “No, no, no, no. Nat’s just saying shit.”

She turned her head to her boyfriend and shook it.  “No, I’m not. She and Bucky practically eye fucked on stage.”

You instantly slapped her arm, staring deadly into her eyes. “Ouch!” She put her hand on the spot that you struck, even though it wasn’t even that hard. Classic Nat. Dramatic as always.  “Nat, you can’t just–”

Before you even managed to finish your sentence, she darted her eyes to somewhere behind you as she pointed at whatever got her distracted. “Oh, here they are!” She smirked. She raised her eyebrows at you before she stood on her feet and hugged the anticipated men.

“Hey, guys! Killer show back there!” Nat started hugging Sam and he kissed her cheek, and then she moved onto Steve and the last one to join was Bucky. You muttered ‘shit’ to yourself as you pondered on how you should act. Should you act like nothing ever happened during the show between you two? Or were you going to address the elephant in the room, and just straight up flirt with him, now that he wasn’t being so closely watched anymore?

You didn’t know which would be the best option so you just took a big gulp and drank down the entire glass of Rum you had left. Maybe if you were less sober, you wouldn't excessively overthink. You weren’t even sure whether he was really staring at you or not. For all you knew, he could be staring at another beautiful girl in the crowd that was standing beside or behind you. And if you act impulsively now, this would be like that cheesy moment on Rom-Coms, where a girl waved back to the guy who she thought was waving at her but it turns out, he was actually waving at another girl who was coming from the same direction as her.

Nope, you weren’t going to be that girl.

So you just smiled and nodded along as Natasha introduced you to the rest of the boys. You didn’t want to be rude so you sat on your chair, facing them with an interested look, even though all you wanted to do was just shrink and leave this goddamn place.

“Hey guys, here’s my bomb-ass bestie slash roomie. Her name’s y/n! Isn’t she stunning?”

When Steve was about to offer his hand to you, Sam immediately inserted himself in front of you and Steve. “Well, hello, good-lookin’. Can I buy you a drink?” Sam, being the cool dude he was, he leaned back against the bar counter on his elbows as he shamelessly flirted with you.

“Nope, thank you. I just had one.”

“Oh, you look like you could use another one. Here, let me get that for you.” He cued the bartender to make an order and you instantly tried to stop him, telling him that it wasn't necessary, but it looks like the bartender was already taking his order for you.

And then, out of nowhere, Bucky suddenly stooped in like a hero. “Hey, Sam, why don’t you back off? This one’s mine, alright?” That elicited a questioning look out of you. “Mine?” He didn’t even know you.

“Oh wait, so this is the one you told us about in the dressing room?” What the hell? You thought. They were talking about you as if you weren’t there at all.

“Yep, so why don’t you fuck off and get out of here before I get myself drunk enough to shit on your bed?” His tone was menacing but you could tell that this was a normal, daily conversation between the two.

“Jeez, alright. I’mma leave. You don’t need to wave your dick all over my face.” Before Sam moved to another spot, he patted you on the back and said, “good luck.”

What? What the hell was that for? The bartender came in with your order and served another glass of Rum right in front of you.

“You don’t need to drink that if you don’t want to.” He carefully spoke to you, as if he was trying to not scare you away.

“No, I think I need to. Tonight’s been a pretty crazy night.” You took a sip, the cold drink felt nice on your tongue.

He chuckled. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Oh, how crazy can it be for you? Isn’t this like, what you do, every night?”

“Yeah, but, you never really get used to it, you know? Sometimes you just wanna sit in the bar and have a nice talk with a pretty gal and hide in the booth or something.”

That… Warmed up your heart. Damn, if this is his way of flirting, it was truly working. You could see now why everyone was calling him ‘a charmer.’ He really had a way with words. And stares. His baby blues really know how to captivate you and froze you on spot.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” He offered his hand to shake yours.

“I’m y/n.” You shook it with a smile.

“Did you like the show?” He asked.

“Gotta be honest with you, buddy, your music isn’t exactly my kind of music. But you guys were awesome.”

He paused for a moment as if he was contemplating what he was going to say next. “Think I got a little distracted up there.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Cause there was this pretty lady in a red dress that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.” His gaze even grew more intense now. He was looking at you like you were the only thing in the room. Then his eyes darted to your lips, as he licked his. And before you knew it, he started inching his face closer to yours as he held his gaze on your plump, painted lips, while you could feel his breath more and more as the seconds went by.

And then… His lips were on yours. It’s like the clock just stopped ticking and every noise faded into the background and you were the only two people in the room. His lips felt soft against yours, and the way he licked your bottom lip made your head spin. You ajarred your mouth to let his tongue enter as it got tangled with yours.

You were aware that Nat, Clint and Steve who were having a conversation are now watching you like hawks, but you couldn’t care less. Not when Bucky’s hands grabbed your face, so he could have more control over your mouth. You were practically out of breath by the time he looked into your eyes, that are now slightly darker than a few seconds ago. He loved the sight of you, with your lips slightly swollen.

“Let’s go somewhere more secluded.” You could only nod and then took his hand after he offered you his as you got off the stool. He led the way and you couldn’t help but notice the glances that were thrown by several women along the way. They were staring at him with incontrovertible full of hunger eyes, one even shamelessly put her hand on his shoulder, as she coquettishly smiled at him. Bucky only smiled back and nodded at her but he kept walking with you in his hand.

Even if you were practically a pair, you felt invisible. Everyone’s eyes were on you, but not precisely on you. This must’ve been something normal to him, you thought. You weren’t used to big crowds and inundated with attention, and you weren’t used with unquestionably holding a stranger’s hand and letting him take you wherever he had in mind. But you did anyway, and you weren’t having second thoughts.

Bucky led you to the cramped lavatory and locked the door. The lack of space made it even harder for you to breathe when Bucky was this close to you. He pressed his body to yours, as he kissed you once more. Slowly, but you felt the spell in your bones. “All I could think about on stage was tasting those luscious lips.”

You were spellbound by his magic. You could barely speak another word when his baby blue eyes were looking at you so intensely like that. But you gathered every cell in your body to utter the words anyway, “do it again, then.” You boldly challenged him.

He grinned a Cheshire cat smile. He grabbed your face again and eagerly consume you with his mouth. He then moved his hands to the back of your thighs to elevate you onto the sink. He put his hand on your thigh and the other hand went to the back of your head as he grabbed a fistful of your hair, while still kissing you even deeper.

He pulled away to stare at your distraught state and asked the question, “can I touch you?”

You licked your lips, as you nodded. “Please.” His mouth was on yours again, as the hand that was on your thigh moved to the bottom your dress, delicately inserted his fingers to feel you against your red lace panties. You could feel yourself growing wetter and wetter as he motions his fingers in circle harder.

Your breath quickened. Your mind was getting hazy as the second passes by. The right strep of your dress had fallen off of your shoulder, and Bucky utilized that opportunity to pull down the other strap and he began groping your breast, tenderly pinching your nipple. That elicited a petite yelp out of you. He groped your breast once more as he was still toying with your nipple.

He began kissing your neck, shortly finding your sensitive spot as you threw your head back. You shuddered. Your hands grabbed his hair, wanting to feel him closer. “Bu- Bucky… Please. I need to feel you.”

You didn’t wait for his response and immediately lifted up his shirt. You were stunned by the sight under the dimmed light of the bathroom. Clothes really didn’t do this man any justice. He should never be allowed to wear any coverups, ever again now that you had seen him. He was sculpted by the Gods themselves. His biceps felt robust in your dainty hands and the V-shaped line on his hips led to somewhere you really wanted to wrap your lips around.

Your hands quickly zipped down his jeans and his boxer along with it, and you didn’t hesitate in feeling his throbbing member right there, right then. It felt tremendous in your trembling hands, and you felt it getting harder with every stoke of your palm.

“Oh, fuck, doll, don’t stop.” His voice was raspy in your ears. It was the sexiest goddamn sound you had ever heard.

“Yeah, just like that. Go faster, doll.” He sucked your earlobe and his hand fisted your hair, making a mess out of it. You didn’t mind one bit. You wanted to be a mess for him and only for him. You somehow still managed to pamper him with all the senses you had left, even if your mind was clouded with every part of him.

“Bucky, put it in me. Please.” You begged with a quavering voice.

“Your wish is my command, doll.” In a second, he pushed into you and it sent an electrifying jolt all over your nerves. You threw your head back in mingled pain and pleasure. He felt even more full now that he was fully seated inside you. He lifted you from the sink and pushed you to the wall on the opposite.

You circled your arms around his neck as your back was slammed against the concrete. Then Bucky began thrusting vigorously. You shut your eyes and moaned his name. Bucky, on the other hand, didn’t. He kept his eyes wide open to watch you with full attention. He loved seeing the way you were drunk in him. The way you forgot your name more and more every time he slammed back into you.

He loved the squelching noises ringing in his ears, better than the melody he was used to creating in the studio. The sound of your heartbeat was far more gratifying than the way Clint played his drum. Oh, how he could write an entire album solely about you in this state alone.

“You feel so good around me, doll. So. Fucking. Tight.” Your moans became louder with his filthy words in your ears.

“I’m gonna make you mine.” This time, his voice was sultry. It was rather beguiling than mortifying.

His hips kept moving and out of you with a vehement tempo, and then just like that, you crumbled. You screamed your pleasure, not caring if anyone could hear you. Bucky was still moving, trying to reach his own climax. Shortly, he was with you. He unleashed his cum deep inside you, adding the mess that was dripping all over your thighs.

You were a beautiful mess. And Bucky loved it.

After a few minutes, coming down from your high, you breathed into Bucky’s neck, not wanting for it to be over yet. You were a little scared that Bucky was going to walk out and pretend nothing ever happened between you. You didn’t know how many bathroom stalls Bucky had brought different women to and fucked them silly right there. You had a lot do unravel about him, yet, you weren’t certain whether he wanted to let you in or not.

“You okay?” Bucky whispered into your ear. You only nodded, still a little hazy from ecstasy.

“I’m gonna put you down now, yeah?”

“Okay.” He slowly set you on your feet, as he was still staring at your face. You leaned against the wall, trying not to collapse. Bucky picked up his shirt and put it back on along with his jeans and boxer.

“Let’s get out of here.” Bucky offered you his hand, like the gentleman that he was as if he hadn't just fucked you into oblivion in a public restroom.

You took his hand with a smile. You didn’t know what was going to happen after you walk out of the door, but you were going to savour every second of being in his arm if this was going to be last time you’ll ever see him.

-

You went home with a contented smile on your face. You were like a teenage girl who had just been asked to prom by her crush. How could you not, when Bucky offered to walk you home and left a kiss on your cheek before he called it a night?

Natasha was going to stay at Clint’s hotel, so you were supposed to walk home alone. You knew eventually this was going to happen but Natasha and Clint used it as a reason so Bucky and you would spend the night together too. You didn’t mind one bit, though. You wanted to elongate your time with Bucky and your wish was granted.

You offered him to come inside and stay for a little while, you were secretly hoping that you could go for the second round, but Bucky only chuckled and shook his head.

“Not tonight, doll. I ain’t that kinda man. And you need rest. But I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?” Then you and Bucky exchanged your numbers and he waited until you were really gone from his sight.

You walked up to your dorm with butterflies in your stomach and sparks fly all trailing over your footsteps. Thank God, Natasha wasn’t here. If she were, she would’ve relentlessly teased you all night and made you admit that she was right to coerce you to come.

And you would’ve had to admit that she was right. And you didn’t like admitting that you were wrong.

But tonight, you were going to admit it to yourself though. Sometimes, doing something that frightens you the most would endue you in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine.

And you were going to thank your lucky stars tonight for embedding Natasha Romanoff in your life because, without her, you would’ve stayed in your shell and Bucky could’ve fucked someone else in that restroom instead of you.

That might’ve happened in another universe, but not tonight. Tonight it was you and you were really hoping that you were going to see him again in your dreams tonight. You had one taste of him and it wasn’t enough.

Bucky texted you not long after you took a shower.

“Dreaming of me, yet?” Wink emoji.

“Well, if I were, I wouldn’t be texting you right now, would I?”

“That’s true, but at least you’d be drenching your sheets because of me and I don’t think I have a problem with that.”

“I don’t need you to do that, maybe I can use some toys in my drawers tonight. They seem pretty bored.” Thinking emoji.

“Oh, doll, you are killing me here…” Drool emoji.

“You like it.”

“I do.”

“Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, doll. Thinking of you here.”

You turned off your phone and the screen went black. You changed into your pyjamas and washed off the remnants of your makeup and let the slumber take over you.

Bucky’s face loomed over you, somewhere in a fancy balcony, the view of the city stretching over, added to the beauty of the scenery. He was wearing a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. The first couple of buttons were unbuttoned, giving you a majestic picture that he was. His hands that were in his pockets, took yours as you exerted yours to him.

He leaned in with a bright smile under his stubbly face, his blue eyes sparkled like Sirius star.

“Fly with me, doll.”

“What if I fall?”

“Then I’ll catch you.”