#plucking strings??? you mean my heartstrings???

[lapeaudelamemoire]

Dying over some music atm

[ddarker-dreams]

The Good Ol' Days.

Yan Alhaitham x F Reader x Yan Kaveh.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships and implied kidnapping. Word count: 2.1k.

The sweeter the past, the more bitter the present.

“Seriously, this isn’t fair! Let her roll again!”

“I’m not sure what you expected from a game that revolves around chance.”

You've heard this before, you think. Not the exact verbiage, no, but the sentiment strikes a chord. Plucks at your heartstrings in a familiar melody. 

“Well, fine, let me lend her some of my money then.” 

“First, we both know that’s against the rules; and second, even if you sold your single Mondstadt property, you wouldn’t have enough to cover the charge. Your strategy of holding out in case you land on a Waypoint is as brilliant as ever.” 

The hot passion met by cool indifference that leaves you forces you into the mediator role. This position was specially formed for you, shaped in such a way that no one else could ever fit. Consequently, it adheres to your person too well, you can’t go forward or backward. You’re stuck. The more you struggle, the tighter your restraints become. 

“You…! I won once, when I got all four Waypoints. It’s a viable tactic. Right, [First]? Don’t you remember how huffy he was the night he came in last? … [First]?”

When opposing temperatures meet, condensation forms. 

“... You’re crying,” Kaveh sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, but it’s only you. “Is something wrong?” 

The better question would be what isn’t wrong. He won’t ask that, though, so you’ll never get to properly answer. You sit as still as a statue on the couch. From your display stand, you sense you’re being stared at by two sets of eyes, one distraught, the other scrutinizing. The former comes from your left and the latter from across the table. 

Kaveh’s hands cup both sides of your face. He wipes away the few wayward tears with the pad of this thumb, his eyebrows pinching together. Wordlessly, Alhaitham gets up from his cushion on the floor and takes his place by your right side. Their towering forms seal you in place. 

“You made her cry,” Kaveh accuses, his eyes narrowing. “You should’ve just let me go bankrupt for her.” 

“For someone who claims I have the emotional intelligence of a rock, you can be rather dense yourself. I sincerely doubt that has anything to do with this.” 

“Then why is she—” 

“I remember,” you somehow manage to squeeze the words out of your tight throat. Their attention returns to you. Your next words come out quietly. “That game, I mean. When you won. You had another glass of wine to celebrate, and… kept drunkenly throwing your victory in Alhaitham’s face. You slept through your alarm the next morning and missed a meeting with a high-profile client.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Kaveh nods along slowly. He’s using that gentle, soothing tone from when this nightmare began and he didn’t want to upset you further. You can tell he’s trying desperately to follow along despite not having the directions necessary.

“After that, you started a campaign to not speak to Alhaitham until he apologized, but he didn’t even realize you were ignoring him,” the sound you let out is in between a choked sob and laugh. Kaveh’s arms fall limp as if they’ve lost all strength. “He told me… ‘Lately, Kaveh is more tolerable to be around’, or something like that.” 

You hug your knees to your chest. “Since you weren’t willing to talk to Alhaitham, you’d have me relay messages. It was silly. Eventually, I got you guys to make amends. It was like pulling teeth though. Heh. Thinking about it now, I can’t help wondering how many times I dug my own grave.” 

Kaveh softly speaks your name, but Alhaitham finds words before he can.

“So that’s what this is about,” Alhaitham notes. When you first met the brilliant Scribe, you mistakenly interpreted his rationality for apathy. You know better now. If he were truly disinterested, he wouldn’t bother stringing words together, curt as they may be. “Dwelling on the past only leads to unnecessary grief.” 

Kaveh sends a halfhearted glare in Alhaitham’s direction. “What he means to say is that you shouldn’t blame yourself.” 

“Because it wouldn’t have changed anything?” You question, staring deep into Kaveh’s eyes, their color reminiscent of the burning sun setting over the desert. 

He averts his gaze and swallows thickly. “Well…” 

“What he wants to say is that yes, it wouldn’t have mattered,” Alhaitham chimes in where Kaveh is hesitant to. Such is the nature of their dynamic when you’re involved — barbed truths or coddling lies. “The future we were envisioning had already been decided.” 

“The condemned can’t condemn themselves, huh?” You chuckle mirthlessly. 

They both frown. 

“You aren’t condemned, you’re— you’re free from having to worry about those things you used to stress over. Rent, bills, deadlines, you know. The worst parts of life. You can focus on your passions without any restraints now,” Kaveh reasons. Or so he tries. 

You gnaw on your lower lip. It’s been a while since you’ve bothered arguing with either of them on the subjects that truly matter, those topics have been deemed taboo. You can complain about Kaveh’s clinginess when he’s drunk or how tight Alhaitham holds you at night, but should you try to steer the conversation toward your captivity, it’s shut down. Kaveh makes you wish you never brought it up whereas Alhaitham instills regret that you dared to try. 

They’re both bracing themselves, you can feel it in the air. Sitting and awaiting a tempest of emotions that one will try to soothe and the other wave away. 

You think about fighting then remember why you stopped, falling into this limbo of existing without living. 

You could challenge Kaveh’s weak point. Demand to know why he doesn’t do the same then, never leaving the four walls of Alhaitham’s house, committing himself wholly to drawing up blueprints. Alhaitham might make some dry comment that he wouldn’t allow Kaveh to leech off him, or maybe Kaveh would apologize, and say that he didn’t intend to upset you. He would mean it too. You’d cry, beg, scream until your throat was raw and your voice scratchy, but in Alhaitham’s own words, it wouldn’t have mattered. 

Their minds are made up. Their resolve is an unshakable foundation upon which your gaol is built. In the same way they soundproofed the house, so too are their hearts insulated from any argument that’d champion your cause. You tried and failed and tried and failed again. 

At least if you don’t try, you won’t experience failure. 

“... Alright.” 

They exchange brief looks. 

“Alright?” Kaveh parrots the word, but without matching your listless tone. “That’s— oh. Huh. Okay.” 

He mumbles the last few words to himself, as if trying to process them aloud. You can’t fault him for his confusion. 

It’s silent then, the kind that holds weight. You uncurl yourself from your protective shell. You feel like a specimen being subjected to naturalistic observation, neither researcher willing to interfere, lest it negatively influence their data’s results. There’s a lot you can get used to — you had no other choice, really — yet that never fails to make you uncomfortable in your own skin. Unwilling to endure it any longer, you quickly form an escape plan. 

“Well,” you start, earning their rapt attention, “I think I’m going to, uh, call it a night.” 

You stand up as you say this. There’s a light pressure on your wrist, chaining you in place. 

“Stay,” Alhaitham’s voice urges. Your muscles go taut, then you hear a subdued sigh. “If you don't mind.” 

Kaveh must’ve given him quite the nasty look for Alhaitham to get that close to saying please. You sit back down, almost in a trance, as if the Scribe had cast a spell. Glancing down, you realize it’s Alhaitham who grabbed your wrist. He doesn't let go when you situate yourself back into place. 

Kaveh takes his chance to tether you as well. Lithe arms encircle you, gently pulling you into him. The side of your face presses against his chest, his bare skin exuding copious amounts of heat. He smells familiar, for this scene is familiar. Desperation with a hint of citrus and spice. He cradled you a lot in the beginning, shushing your sobs and drying your tears. At first, you’d resist, flailing your limbs wildly like you were a feral cat. Inevitably, his strength and stamina outlasted yours. 

His nose brushes against the crown of your head. “I care about you more than I could ever properly convey. Whatever you’re thinking, I can take it. Er, we can take it. I’d prefer that over you blaming yourself for anything.” 

Dazedly, you nod. He goes quiet, then, preparing himself for an onslaught you can bring yourself to unleash. Seconds bleed into one after another. You hear the furious pounding of Kaveh’s heartbeat. How if you twist your body, his breath hitches in his throat. It’s nice to know that at least his body will always be honest with you where his well-meaning words fall short. 

“You’re trying to regain a semblance of control by thinking ‘had I done this, or had I not done that, it wouldn’t have ended up this way.’” 

Kaveh exhales sharply through his nose. “Alhaitham, that’s enough.” 

“Let me finish,” he continues. His fingers creep onto your chin and take your face captive. He peels you away from your position against Kaveh, who stubbornly refuses to relinquish his grasp on your torso. Alhaitham’s countenance is close to yours so as not to leave any room for you to cower away. Those analytical eyes that can pick apart the world have you in their sights. “Do you know why you’re here, [First]?” 

In the past, when you struggled with an assignment or class, the infamously disinterested Alhaitham would take it upon himself to tutor you. He was a fair yet strict teacher. On those long nights spent hunched over a messy desk, he’d have a different air about him. He stretched you. In the moment, it felt like he was demanding more than what you could provide, but upon further reflection, he just knew what limits you could be pushed to better. 

“I’d like an answer.” 

You take a deep, shaky breath. “Because you both claim to hold some sort of affection for me.” 

Kaveh would look like a kicked puppy if you said this to him. It’s Alhaitham, though, and his composure is infallible. 

“Word it however spitefully you want, you get the gist of things,” he drawls. The intensity behind his gaze is enough to make you shiver. “If nothing you’ve been able to say or do has changed our mind now, why would it have back then? It might feel good to sulk, but your logic is erroneous. You’re making yourself miserable only to see if this wallowing is more palatable than the kind you’re used to.” 

You hate when Alhaitham’s right. It’s a shame he so frequently is. 

“Can you blame me?” 

“... No,” he admits. “But this proto-nihilism is worse for your mental well-being than anything else you’ve tried so far. I’d like to nip it in the bud.” 

Your smile is thin and far from kind. “Because it makes you uncomfortable?” 

“I’ll leave that to your overactive imagination to decide.” 

He relinquishes his grip on you, leans back into the couch, and crosses his legs. That posture positively irks you. Sparks from kindling flitter throughout your being like confetti. 

“Seriously, you have no tact,” Kaveh rests his chin atop your head. “They should study you in a lab somewhere.” 

“Says the one who’s taking advantage of [First]'s emotional vulnerability to cling to her like a parasite.” 

“Hey! Don’t listen to him, [First]. He’s just being a grump. You don’t think that’s what I’m doing, right?”

“I’d like to roll again,” you adopt a sickeningly sweet tone while addressing Alhaitham. “Please.” 

“... Right? [First]?” Kaveh tries again.

Alhaitham speaks up before you can even consider entertaining the whining male behind you. “And why should I bend the rules for you?” 

You lean forward with enough momentum that you’re able to break free from Kaveh’s grasp. Newfound vigor burns inside you. Perhaps a day will come when it extinguishes, but as for now, the flame ignites anew. Hot and ready to burn. 

Your lips brush against Alhaitham’s ear. “Are you afraid of losing?” 

He looks at you from the corner of his eyes, bemusement evident. The start of a smirk dances on his lips. 

“Not at all. Roll as many times as you please.” 

And so you cast the die again. 

Come what may — an unlikely win, tense truce, or total loss — you refuse to capitulate without trying.

[catsfor2]

heyyyy so I was wondering if you write college au for Ellie??

pluck my heartstrings (college!ellie)

a/n: of course i can do that anon!! lovely idea!! also this is lowk based off of something that happened to me irl (kicks feet) BUT its so cute so idc. i hope you like it!!!!! warnings: UNEDITED!!, teeny tiny alcohol mention -j

music major Ellie is just something that I think would be so so so so cute

I feel like she'd be making MOVES with that damn guitar

like she's always there at house party's n shit, asking for song requests and kinda being a show-off

not obnoxiously tho

this night, same as any other, she's seated with that guitar, soaking up the attention of like 20 people

You don't go over by her, (you're way too nervous), but it doesn't stop you from nodding your head a bit and singing along quietly when she strums a song you know

Ellie sees you, she's been seeing you at these parties, and always wonders why the pretty girl with the pretty voice never comes over to hear her play up close :(

You were completely oblivious. All dolled up in the corner, singing to yourself and sipping your drink occasionally.

Ellie doesn't hesitate this night, finally gathering up the courage to talk to you, approaching with the guitar still slung across her shoulder.

"You like that one?" She asks you, smiling shyly.

"Yeah, it was...alright."

"'Alright'? I mean you were singin' along so...couldn't of been that bad." She argues, eyes lurking over your sitting figure.

"Fine, it was good. I...I liked it." you admit, almost feeling trapped by her broad shoulders.

It didn't take long before Ellie roped you in fully, bashful smile and confident hands warming you hotter than the alcohol.

She'd begged you to pick a song, and before you knew it, you were being serenaded on a frumpy couch at a house party.

You thought you'd get to sit pretty and listen to her pluck the strings, but no, Ellie had different plans.

She stops playing to grab your hand, and bluntly but gently, places it directly on the cold strings.

"Here sweetheart―put your fingers on this little square―yup, good, now keep em' pressed down," she almost whispers, maneuvering your fingers along the neck of her guitar. "this is a fret. So if you keep pressing, I can do this―"

And with her eyes locked on yours, she strums, thumb lazily catching all five strings. She lets the rich chord ring and die out until it's silent again. Heatedly, her mouth parts and she continues.

"and it sounds...perfect, doesn't it? Me and you?"

Your mouth opens and closes, struggling to find a response.

"Yeah," you breathe. "it's really nice. I―can I try again?"

"Of course." Ellie assures, free hand now resting on top of yours. Her thumb is rubbing small soft circles, almost absentmindedly, as she talks. "get a little closer, c'mon. You can barely reach from there."

Her arm goes behind your back and grips your waist, pulling you flush with her side.

"Oh―okay," you gasp out, thighs now squished against hers and burning from the contact.

Ellie smiles at you, a bit slyly, before retracting her arm to go back to your hand.

"So now, move down one fret," she guides, palm resting atop your wrist. "—yeah, beautiful. You're a natural, y/n. What can I say?"

You let out clipped laugh before responding.

"Yeah—whatever, just strum it again. I wanna hear."

"Ok, ok. Just—just look at me. Look at me when I do it." She says, face so close to yours that you can feel the heat of her breath.

You don't respond out loud, only a small nod. The pit in your stomach is molten and heavy, only growing as Ellie's gaze continuously slips to your mouth instead of her guitar.

"Ellie—"

"It's alright, just keep pressing"

And then, just like before, she strums, lightly playing the song and moving your fingers along the frets when need be.

The music is muted this time, as you're distracted by Ellie's heady eyes and steady hand. You can't contain the way your limbs start to tremble a touch, almost getting needy next to her body.

Ellie notices, and stills, silencing the remnant acoustics with her palm.

"I—I think I really like you." she says, a rosy tint rising to her cheeks.

"Yeah?" you breathe, now unable to keep your eyes from Ellie's mouth.

"Mm—yeah. A lot."

[scriptaed]

bygones of the sun. 10 (m)

genre: angst/fluff/(future)smut || dance captain!hoseok, bad boy!au, uni!au

pairing: reader x hoseok

length: 7.2k

synopsis: Jung Hoseok was once the sweetheart of the school, the dance captain whom every girl, including you, can’t help but fall head over heels for. But like the force of the ever-glowing sun, everything that rises must also set. A year of inactivity later and he’s now the school’s resident bad boy. You’re a firm believer of allowing the past be the past, and yet you can’t help but wonder where the risen sun has gone into hiding—because perhaps its shadows have out-shined its own radiance.

Egocentric to pray for a delay in sunrise, but you would do it for a fracture in time would serve well as a sanctuary for your dormant star; nonetheless, when night ends and day arrives, the sweet tears of midnight will vaporize into inexistence.

Night strings along irrationality in an overexposure of our deepest subconscious. At the deepest of troughs and under the darkest of skies, there, we lie more vulnerable and prone to false hope than ever, for last night is the ultimate testament to mankind’s greatest fear.

Emotions could have been running high, lethargy could have gotten the best of him, anything could have and would have shattered the boy of last night's scattered soul poorly taped into a fragile whole; ironically, however, it is exactly the spill of burdens and truths of the night to the attentive ears of a beholder, you, which had saved him from such atrocities.

So you prayed, prayed for dusk to drown dawn in an endless embrace with itself until the boy could finally relish in the long awaited night's rest, and yet, still, you feared the longer he slept in the comforts of superficial dreams, the stronger his demons would return; and so, with a heavy and anxious heart, you had found yourself trapped in your own double edged sword of a state—basking in his warm presence, shivering in your guilty conscience.

In the end, all is for naught when the peak of sun rays through the slit of the curtains showers upon your cheeks perched on the armrest of a couch.

Squinting, you groan in a groggy voice before regretfully slipping the first word which comes to mind.

“Hoseok?”

Your following silence meets its own reflection.

With stained efforts, your body slumps into the couch as your half awakened state scans through the room that remains perfectly untouched. The remnants of your memories recalls how you had somehow stumbled your way to the couch sitting beside the bed of your motel room, refusing to fall asleep just inches beside the boy in your bed; although, said boy remains nowhere to be seen as of now.

Heavy steps and rowdy mumbles muffled by the floor beneath convince your unwilling self to drag yourself off the couch, slipping the blanket you recall being gently draped over and tucked under you in your sleep last night to the floor. Matters of the previous night forgotten, your feet stumble its way to the bathroom, disregarding the perfectly folded and tucked sheets of where he should have been lying. A few splashes of cold water to your drowsy state are surprisingly enough to fully awaken you after a relatively nice albeit anxious night of rest; with alertness, however, floods the remembrance of him.

“Jimin!” you call out, weaving through the incoming crowd of camp attendees packing their bags. Catching sight of the rather petite boy chatting away with his usual friends, Taehyung and Jungkook, you take one final stride before urgently pulling off to the side.

“Hey, Y/N,” his eyes widen in confusion by the sudden greeting, “what’s up?”

“Do you know what’s going on with Hoseok? Did anything happen to him yesterday evening?” you blurt, pausing for a second until another thought comes to mind. “Oh, and what do you mean he wasn’t on patrol duty last night? Then what—” you stop abruptly when you realize Hoseok’s likely desire to keep things between you and him confidential “—who was on patrol?”

“...I was?” Jimin arches a brow. “Why? Did something happen? Is there something wrong with Hoseok?”

So he doesn’t know.

None of the boys know the real reason behind Hoseok’s reluctance to return—or at least the surface level of the seemingly endless depth to that facade of his.

“No,” you quickly deny, shaking your head and scanning the bustling entrance hall; as if innate, your line of sight naturally draws to the centripetal force of your Earth’s center.

“Then why—”

“—hey, I’ll catch up with you later, alright? I still have to pack my bags…” your voice trails along with your eyes which follow Hoseok as he glides from one side of the room across to the other. Hand drifting from Jimin’s shoulder, you gradually whirl around and follow the beckons of your heart akin to pearls under the sway of the ocean’s waves. “Hoseok!”

Body beneath your sway, Hoseok whirls around to face you with a quizzical look glancing down at the hand which grasps his arm.

“Yeah?” he asks gently, arching a brow at you when a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. “Is there something I can help you with, babe?”

Initially, you had approached him with the intent to confront him about last night. His behavior, his words, his burdens, you know he's hurt and there's nothing you want more than to help him, not to mention the unreasonable guilt stirring inside you for failing to tackle the situation efficiently then and there; but even despite the momentary shock of the return of that egotistical mien of his, it's impossible for you to see him the same way after witnessing his sheer vulnerability.

For once, you must be selfless. Push aside your wants for that of his own, because unbeknownst to you, his own needs became your wants somewhere along the irrevocable path of time.

“About last night…” you start and the crease above his brow only deepens. “I just… I'm sorry I didn't comfort you or ask you this earlier…” you prim and trace your hand along his arm to meet his hands. Peering up to meet his gaze, he flinches yet you refuse to turn a blind eye. “...”...but are you doing alright, Hoseok?”

“What…” he frowns and stiffens in place, “...do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” you clear your throat, shifting your weight, “are you okay? Is there anything you want or need to tell me? Or anyone? Because I just want you to know I'm always here to lend an—”

“—look, I don't know what you're rambling on about,” Hoseok chuckles, retracting his hands from yours to nonchalantly ruffle your hair before crossing his arms, “but all I recall from last night is a certain someone refusing to sleep on the same bed as me. I almost forgot I was dating the most pristine of the untainted.”

“...rambling on about?” you repeat in a mumble, frowning and shaking your head. “No, Hoseok, listen, when you mentioned dance and… and your passion for it, I didn’t know how to respond because you were actually opening up to me.”

Hoseok blinks blankly, deep breaths in and out as his chest rises higher and steadier with each puff before he equivocates, “Y/N, I don’t recall anything of such sorts, and even if they did happen, I don’t want to hear about it.”

“Hoseok—” you pause when your voice fails you “—I’m not forcing you to talk about it, I just want you to know—”

“—Y/N,” he sternly articulates, gaze affixing to yours with impatience. “I have to help the others load their bags onto the charter, and from what I can tell,” his eyes scan you up and down as he chortles, “don’t you have to go pack your things? So if you don’t have anything else important to say, your boy has important matters to attend to.”

The crowd migrates in clutters from the lobby to the coach parked right outside, only adding to the urgency for you to get your point across; but when you recall the events of last night, how he had so defensively proclaimed to abide by the duties of his role as the dance captain, you come to the epiphany that you really are just another roadblock in his tracks at this very moment. So, naturally, you step aside with a short bob of your lowered head.

The boy chuckles softly at your surrender, taking one large stride to enclose the gap between him and you and stroking your cheeks just briefly until the warmth of his touch subsides to his sides. “And about last night… I’m sorry if my stay made you uncomfortable. I think I was just… a bit tipsy.

Clearly, he was sober, but you’re reluctant to further the discussion without the right time and place.

“Don’t look so sad or I can’t bring myself to leave you here,” he laughs bittersweet chords to the pluck of your heartstrings, especially when you notice the lack of effort in his disingenuous grin as he crosses his arms. “Come to think of it, I seem to neglect my duties as the captain whenever I’m around you, huh? Maybe we should be more cautious of our relationship around others, don’t you think?”

In one ear, out the other; more often than not, his incessant teasing would elicit a snide remark from your intolerant state, but after the events of last night, nothing seems to be the same. Rather, his own flirtations are now construed to be poor fruitions to mask the pleas crying yet buried beneath.  

“Sorry for bothering you,” you press your lips into a thin line, “let’s talk more later.”

An immediate downturn of his lips tugs at your heavy chest, but never-minding his equivocal language, you turn away and depart to your room in deep pondrance.

Just what could you do to help the real Hoseok?

But who really is Hoseok? And did you ever come to know him?

Rather, did he?

-

Life truly has its own quirky way of doing things. One second you’re debating between the absurd albeit enticing offer in the kitchen of your house and the next second you’re already packing up your clothes on a journey bound for home.

Piles upon piles upon piles, the abundance of snacks and clothes you had brought but failed to utilize drives you to your wit’s end before you finally toss the last pair of shorts into your luggage, let out a loud, cathartic sigh, and jump into the comforts of your bed.

In reality, this position with your face buried in the depths of your pillow and your arms and legs sprawled across the soft cotton sheets would spell for doom had the occasion of falling asleep and missing the departure of your only ride home, especially since Hoseok doesn’t appear to be in his right mind nor favorable towards you against his prioritized club members enough to catch the one insignificant, missing member; fortunately for you, a good night of rest stirs you awake and incapable of slumber… plus, it turns out someone other than the names of Hoseok seeks for your attention.

Ring, ring, your phone’s vibration tunnels across the pillow to your ears.

Was Jimin asking for your assistance? Or was he wondering about the origins of your odd question earlier this morning? Could it perhaps be a message from the boys you had met and exchanged number with during camp?

Regardless of the myriad predictions, there really is only one thing that’s set in stone: it can’t possibly be Hoseok, because as much as it pains you to admit, you’re the last thing he wants to contact at this moment…

...and to your dismay, you’re right, but what really debunks your seemingly accurate theories is the name glaring from your brightly lit phone screen.

Unknown [2:06 PM] Hey, Y/N. This is Keiko. I was wondering if you have time to chat with me over dinner tonight when you return?

Straight to the point, but still lacking in details.

You can’t quite believe your eyes when they incessantly glide across the word ‘Keiko.’

What could she possibly want from you? After her ambiguous request for you during the last and only time you had interacted with the ex dance captain, you had never expected to hear from her again; in fact, to be quite frank, you had nearly forgotten about her… you had nearly forgotten Hoseok’s relations with her.

A past unrequited love? A past relationship gone wrong?

The endless possibilities tug at your chest in the familiar weighty burden you had so carelessly forgotten in the past month. You’re not exactly sure why the blur of a mystery regarding Hoseok’s relationship with Keiko pains you so, but the panic rising in your beating chest at this very moment is surely elicited by the fear of what this “conversation” could entail.

Slamming your luggage shut, you do a quick scan around your room and grab your last leftovers, but before you could roll your suitcase completely out the doorway, the sway of an unknown force rooted deep in the room keeps you from doing so; and when you glance over your shoulder to assure yourself not to linger any longer, you arrive at the epiphany of reasons residing beneath your reluctance to depart.

Because lying there on the now nicely made up bed is a couple, one asleep and one vigilant, both too vulnerable, too wary to let down their walls against the dangers of the dimming lights and the emerging night.

The longer you stand there watching, the more vividly you recall the subtle glint of his eyes—begging or pleading, you’re unsure—and your sealed lips incapable of appropriate assurance akin to a stuck zipper deserving neither the label of new nor broken; and before you know it, the desire to set things right with Hoseok rises once again within the pits of your wrenching gut.

“Y/N!” you flinch when a voice hollers at you from down the hall, causing the door to slam shut with the absence of your jutting foot. Whirling around, you find Jimin jogging towards you. “I was looking everywhere for you! We’re basically almost all ready to go in ten minutes or so and Hoseok noticed you’ve been missing for a while now, so he told me to find you.”

“Oh—” so he did remember about you “—hey, how did Keiko get my number?”

“Huh?” your peripherals catch his eyes widening into circular orbs when the two of you begin heading down the flight of stairs and he gasps in remembrance. “Oh! She asked me for your number this morning. Why? Did you not want me to? Did she text you?”

“No, that’s...” you quickly answer until your words are interjected by the sight of Hoseok standing alone in the lobby and it’s like the force field of his prevents you from moving your gaze elsewhere, “...totally fine…”

“...do you need to talk to Hoseok?” Jimin asks but proceeds to grab your luggage and head down the stairs before you. He glances over his shoulder at you and nods his head at the figure your eyes struggle to keep off of. “Here, I’ll load your bags onto the bus and you take the next ten minutes to talk it out.”

“What?” you quickly frown and shake your head, attempting to grab the bags from him in vain, “no, it’s fine. There’s nothing to talk about anyways.”

“You won’t have a chance to talk to him again anytime soon after this,” Jimin utters under his breath, gaze firmly affixed to yours. “He looks dead tired. This camp took much more of a toll on him than usual. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling he won’t be hanging around with us much after this.”

Us? Does that include you?

The thought is all too daunting, you simply can’t fathom the thought of Hoseok dropping from your life without a single word or warning; because the scariest thing is… it’s much too real, too similar to something Hoseok would do.

Just. Like. That.

“Okay… I’m sorry,” you regretfully mumble, “I promise I’ll treat you and the boys to dinner someday.”

“Nah,” Jimin chuckles and heads off on his own, “bringing him back here is already enough of a favor for us.”

Gulp. Breathe. In. Out.

His words should be reassuring, yet you find them wrenching at your heart.

Is this really for the better?

Was bringing him here really the right choice, when at the end of the night, you just know Hoseok must be crawling back into the cold embrace of his mattress, shivering from what he can’t even call home, whimpering from the throbbing pain of every inch of his body and the nightmare of a camp’s threshold.

Maybe you had inflicted more pain than cure.

“...Hoseok?”

Your voice stutters amidst the thick silence of the air as you hesitantly take one step and other towards the one boy at the end of the hall, Hoseok.

Turning around, Hoseok spots you and simply arches a brow; the dark purple bags beneath the void in his eyes and the lack of vigor in comparison to his usual smug response to your calls plummet something deep within your stomach.

“Are you… done with everything?” you take one final step to enclose the distance between you two before uncomfortably hooking a hand over your right elbow and peering up at him, who gazes at you from above. “Can I help you in any way?”

Hoseok smiles gently and shakes his head, “no, everything is loaded and the camp ends here. I’m officially free of my duties as a captain and you’re officially free from that bet of ours.”

“What bet?” you let out without a thought, mind too preoccupied with the real question which loiters in your mind: why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye to me?

“The bet we made in your kitchen,” he cocks his head and flashes a crooked smile, “a euphoric kiss for your attendance at camp.”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot I wasn’t an actual member of this club…”

He grins, “and I almost forgot I wasn’t the captain of this club anymore.”

Please don’t say that.

“Hoseok…” your voice nearly cracks, eyes averting to the side in fear of impending waterworks, “I know you don’t want to talk about last night—”

“—then why are you bringing it up,” he deadpans, jaw tightening with the grinding of his teeth.

“I just…” you shake when you take a breath, “I just want to lend an ear. I think it would be helpful for you to let it all out.”

“Or do you just want to fulfill your own curiosities at the expense of my own requests?”

“What?” you immediately peer up at the sharp edges of his eyes with your own wide ones. “No, I didn’t mean it that way. I’m sorry… I just wanted to help…”

Silence floods the stagnating air and you’re nearly drowned with it—but not nearly as close as the effect his next words has on you.

“...can you stop prying?” he finally utters. “Can you stop mentioning it? I’m a player, don’t you remember? I only started all of… all of this because I was curious. I was intrigued by you only for a second because for once a girl wasn’t fawning over me like the rest.”

His confession plucks at your heartstrings, but your most pressing concerns lies elsewhere beyond your own state; when will he finally confide in you?

Hoseok grabs your shoulders and lightly shakes you, whether as a plea or an attempt to garner your divided attention, you’re unsure of. “I started all of this because of a dare, remember, Y/N?” his voice sounds all too desperate for you to bear. “So don’t fall too hard. Stop burying yourself into my mess and just play along without worrying, okay?”

“I don’t,” you mutter before clearing your voice and swatting his hands off you, “I don’t care, Hoseok! I don’t care how invested I am, because it’s already too late for me to back out and I don’t want to back out! I care about you, can’t you just accept that?”

Can’t you just accept me?

“Don’t you get it?” he groans, pacing in frustration. “I don’t want any help! I don’t need help. Don’t pry into my own business and stop asking Jimin and Taehyung or any of the boys about me. Get it over your head and stop investing so much time in me before you realize just how you right you were that night on our first date when you called me out on being an ass!”

The words echo along with your stunned silence. You had never seen Hoseok so infuriated before, and for the first time in a long while, you’re scared.

You’re scared he’ll drown in his own demons without your help.

You’re scared your own help will turn out to be a manifestation of your own wants over his own needs.

You’re scared the boy you love and care for isn’t the passionate captain you knew nor the renowned heartthrob around school but a enmity completely unknown.

Mostly, you’re scared because fear is the last thing you thought you would ever experience in the wake of Hoseok.

And maybe you’re too transparent or perhaps his words truly did hurt you to the point where even he could decipher, but your entire body language reclines—your eye glued to the floor, your head ducked in shame, and your body facing slightly askew—and Hoseok quickly reaches his hand out in aid.

From the top of your head down to the nape of your neck and to the stroke of your cheek, the cup of his hand brings you a step closer to him until he places a chaste kiss to your temple and retracts himself from you once again.

“Just stop worrying about me, okay? That’s the only way we can keep this…” he struggles to find the right words as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your right ear. The boy takes a deep breath and neither a sigh nor a chuckle descends from his barely parted lips, for all you hear is a weighty pant crafted of obligations. “...this thing we have going on between us. We’ll both be better of that way, alright? Even if it’s ignorant to do so. I just don’t want us to end.”

Physically, his voice drifts into the foreign wind which sweeps your grasp of time shortly afterwards; but you hear him loud and clear within the resonance of your heart, for his actions speak louder than words.

You don’t expect him to greet you, not to mention even sitting within your vicinity on the ride back… but he does. In moments when you avoid all eye contact the second his foot sets weight onto the bus, shifting towards the windows by your seat and wishing with every ounce of your will for your rather isolated choice of seating and lack of friends to go unnoticed; but he reads you like an open book. With footsteps skimming across the floor, soft yet firm enough to mark his ambitions, the boy beelines to the seat by your side. The lethargic timbre of his murmured “hey” elicits a prim response from you as he plops into the empty seat and fills the painfully heavy air of his absence.

The forecast predicts a dayful of sun, but you don’t quite realize until now, just how reliant you’ve become; for at some point in time, the sun has somehow become your everything.

You don’t expect him to spark any conversations—no, not after that discussion gone astray—and he doesn’t; but the watchful gaze of his, wandering from his chattering friends straight up ahead to eye occasional roll of your sore ankles, inquires more than you could ask for. In fact, it doesn’t take very long for his desires to bloom into fruition when, the next thing you know, he gently lifts your right leg to prop into the lap of his own and begins kneading the knots from your muscles.

“It’s fine,” you mutter through barely parted lips, attempting in vain to retract your leg when his hands firmly hold them in place.

“It’s your first bootcamp, isn’t it?” he continues to knead. “I remember how exhausted I was for my first camp. Just let me help you.”

His words sweep your own right off of your lips.

Glancing him up and down, the courage to speak doesn’t come to you until the charter enters a tunnel, blackening your sights from his soft brown hair, beautifully tan skin, and mustard tee.

“Can you stop playing around with me? Things like this mean so much more to me than what you’re asking for from us.”

The boy doesn’t answer, instead, he pauses; and after a few seconds of silence, he persists to knead for a minute longer before letting down your leg once the tunnel ends and you’re blinded by the incoming flood of sun rays.

Incapable of sight in the bright sun after a long nap, the thought of Keiko’s text remains imprinted throughout your conscious. Weighing heavily in your hands, you grab your phone and swiftly jog off the bus on a mission to inquire advice from the rest of the boys.

While Hoseok lends a hand in unloading the endless stream of camp attendees hastily lining up to grab their bags and head on home, you find the rest of the boys standing in a semicircle, conversing away and responsibly keeping watch on the slowly dwindling crowd as members of the official performance unit.

“What’s crackin’, Y/N?” Jin questions, the group following suit as they peer at you with curious eyes.

“I just,” you glance around, particularly assuring yourself of Hoseok’s distant position before whirling around and proceeding in a hush, “I just wanted to ask you guys for some advice.”

Taehyung wiggles his brows, “you need some dating advice?”

“Ooh, for Hoseok?” Jungkook adds in.

“No, it has nothing to do with him, okay? Well, sort of,” you reach out your phone to show the text to a intrigued group of boys leaning in. “Keiko wants to meet up with me.”

“...okay?” Yoongi frowns at your lack of context.

“No, I mean, she wants to meet up with me and I’m pretty sure it has something to do with Hoseok. It’s literally the only reason she would know me or even talk to me.”

“But what’s so wrong with that?”

Jimin purses his lips at Yoongi’s remark, “you think Hobi would be okay with that? With us talking behind his back, especially to his former teacher? He doesn’t even tell us anything anymore, and we used to be his closest friends.”

“Yeah, so I don’t know what to do,” you shake your head. “I want to know what Keiko needs to tell me. I feel like it’s something important that might help Hoseok…”

“...but…”

“...but I’m scared I’m just taking advantage of Hoseok’s situation for the sake of my own curiosity. I don’t want to accidentally hurt him.”

The boys exchange glances at each other, because they, too, are as abandoned in the shadows as Hoseok had kept you, yourself.

Finally, Namjoon shifts his weight, a stance demanding attention and respect, before asking, “well, do you think Hoseok is going to get any better at this point?”

To be painfully honest, the truthful answer to his question would simply and brutally be a “no.” Just as Jimin had pointed out, Hoseok carries an even more lethargic, poignant mien in him than he had prior to camp. Maybe bringing him here really is a mistake, after all, because now he seems worse than ever before.

Without dance, it’s like he’s a completely different person.

“No, I doubt he’ll be hanging around us anytime soon,” Jimin quickly answers when he notices your downcast eyes. “I don’t think it’s just me when I say: right now, Hoseok despises dance.”

Hoseok. Despises. Dance.

You never thought those three words could ever coexist.

“Then I don’t think there’s any harm in meeting with Keiko,” Namjoon elaborates. “Yes, you might be butting into someone else’s business, but from what I can tell, Hoseok isn’t just ‘someone’ to you and you aren’t just ‘someone’ to him. If you’re doing it out of good intentions, I doubt he would hold it against you for—”

—his words are cut short when everyone in the group removes their eyes off of you and darts to someone from behind you. Suddenly, a heavy arm slings over your shoulders and the rough edge of his masked voice echoes in your right ear.

“Hey, what’s with all the long face?” Hoseok feigns a laugh after glancing at you. “What’re we going on about this time?”

Rather than his untimely presence, it’s his nonchalant performance of swinging his arms over your shoulders which catches your infuriated attention. Not only is he lying to himself, yourself, and his closest friends, but now he’s acting as if he owns you, as if you two were an actual couple, as if he didn’t just tell you to your face that your relationship meant nothing more than leisure to him.

“Why do you care so much about my mood? Actually, why do you pretend to care so much?” you rebuke in spite, pushing off his hands and relishing in the sudden downturn of his lips and furrowed brows. “I thought we weren’t a thing. You told me not to be attached, so why don’t you follow your own advice?”

Your curtly remarks evoke worried albeit curious glances from the boys, but all you care about is the fury boiling under Hoseok’s poor attempt at suppressing with a smirk.

“That’s more like it,” he smugly grins, cocking his head and raising his hands defensively, “the more you push me away, the more I’ll fall. Isn’t that what you want?”

As if.

Scoffing and rolling your eyes, you shake your head and return your attention to boys before bidding them goodbye and walking off without another word to Hoseok.

There isn’t any reason nor thing for you to stay around Hoseok for, and neither does he for you; he doesn’t run after you and he doesn’t even attempt to explain himself nor demand an explanation, because to him, you simply aren’t worth the effort.

To him, you’re just a simple text away.

Hoseok, my beloved [6:56 P.M.] Well played. Let’s keep things that way.

-

Clink, clink, the glasses of wine tipping against its own fills the rather lavish room you hadn’t expected nor asked to be seated in; and while others hold their own in formal gowns and suits, you sit uncomfortably across Keiko decked out in sweatpants and a messy bun from lack of time between departure and arrival.

Dressed in a sleek black blouse and dangling earrings, Keiko remains the classy woman you had met the first time around; to others, you must seem like a child next to her.

The only perk you could scavenge from your ostracized self is having your expensive dinner, sure to empty your wallet along with college tuitions, paid by a responsible, full-time employed adult.

“So,” she takes a sip from her glass of wine, “how’re you doing?”

“He’s doing…” you quickly respond before stuttering, “a-alright.”

To your surprise, Keiko chuckles a sultry laugh as ripened as red wine. “I was asking about you, not Hoseok; but I guess you have some sort of a guess as to why I called you here, and to be completely honest with you, you’re right.”

“Oh… sorry...” you mumble, eyes wide and enraptured by her poise. “I, um, hope it’s not inappropriate of me to ask this, but why are you asking me and not the boys?”

Keiko cocks her head as if the answer was obvious enough, “because you're the closest one to him right now, are you not?”

“Emotionally? No… physically? Not really,” you frown, especially when she just chortles at you.

“Well, that's what I've deduced from what the boys have told me.”

“They told you about me?” your eyes immediately widen in panic, because for some odd reason, you want to at least appear somewhat decent from someone as respectable as Keiko; and it isn't a competition between you and her in vie for Hoseok’s attention, it's the elegant way she holds herself which has earned your utmost respect. “What… did they say?”

“Oh, nothing too much,” she chuckles with a shrug. “Don't worry, I have other reasons for my deduction.”

The vague answer intimidates you from inquiring further as your gaze becomes affixed to the empty plate splattered with leftover sauce from the now ingested steak. Instead of probing at you to answer her question, she allows you to recollect yourself and your state of mind in silence; and eventually, you do, for your train of thoughts stumble over the real reason you had agreed to this meeting tonight.

“About Hoseok…” you start, eyes lifting to meet Keiko’s, her brows raising to encourage you further. “He's still… reluctant to dance. I don't think he had the best time at camp.”

“Really? Spring boot camp was always his favorite time of the year,” she prims, but all you can do is sigh in a mix of awe and regret, wondering just how much more she knows about Hoseok than you do him. “Well, do you plan on helping him still?”

Helping him? Does she not know about his injury? Hoseok’s voice reverberates in your mind—stop prying—for a remark both raw and real is all too painful to hear and to forget.

It isn't your business neither is it your secret to reveal, especially not to someone he must hold so dearly—in both respect… and love.

“I don't get it…” you stealthily tiptoe around the subject. “Why aren't you helping him? You're much closer to him than I am. I can't do much… we're just acquaintances. It's not like we're dating.”

Your question elicits a loud intake of breath followed by a sigh as she reclines into her seat and crosses her legs, “because I can't.”

'What do you mean…?”

Her fingers begin to play with the glass of wine, swirling the drink round and round and creating whirlpools in the tips of her sleek red nails.

“Are you aware of Hoseok’s main reason for his hiatus?”

Sneakers squeaking and machine buzzing, collapse.

“Well, I can't because…”

Your line of sight subconsciously travels to your leg where you can practically see Hoseok's own, swelling and throbbing as you clutch it in plain just like he had on the blackest of nights.

Keiko looks you straight in the eye.

“...because I'm the one who caused his injury.”

Injury. His injury. Keiko. She caused it.

How did any of this make sense?

“Wait, what? Are you sure?” your brows cinch in confusion. “Maybe he… he…”

Your voice trails to nothing. What else could have evoked someone to blame themselves over something so horrid other than the truth itself?

“I pushed him too far,” she says after a long sigh, staring at the swirl of wine in her delicate fingers. “I was training him into a captain capable of handling anything that would come at him, be it pressure or stress, he has the potential to be the best we've ever had… I don't know if it was me or him and his own expectations which pushed him too far, too fast, but he crumbled.”

If you knew the old and new Hoseok correctly, the latter would be the valid reason. Hoseok pushed himself too far in the face of pressure.

And as much as you know the blame can't be held entirely by Keiko but Hoseok, himself, a part of you errs in the sudden impatience arising within you.

Crumble, she said.

The sun doesn't crumble, it sets.

“...weren't you watching over him…?” you frown at her.

“I did,” she simply nods. “He practiced day and night. There never was a single day when I entered or left the studio and Hoseok wasn't there. Sometimes I think the poor boy even slept in that sweaty old musty room.”

You let out a scoff under your breath, appalled. “And you didn't tell him to stop—”

“—you’re not a dancer, are you, Y/N? You think I can tell someone to stop doing what they love, what they’re so passionate in? You think we have it easy? That talent and a few hours a week are enough to make up for what we lack? You think he would listen to me if I told him to stop? I thought you knew him well,” Keiko rebukes, calm but reprimanding enough for you to wince. “Being a captain requires you to put in time and stress and pressure just comes with it. And even despite that, yeah, sometimes I do wonder if I was asking for too much. If he or I had said something, if he had quit a bit earlier, maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation right now.”

“Quit?” you articulate, narrowing your eyes at her. “I don’t have to be a dancer to know that trying to prevent an injury isn’t quitting.”

“You sound like every other person who begged me to stop when I was training to become the captain myself,” Keiko chuckles, lips pressing into a thin, curved line. “I handled the pressure. I bore all the stress. I conquered it all and I thrived, Y/N, and you and I both know how talented Hoseok is. If I could do it, he most definitely could, too. I don’t know what got to him, but something did.”

“Not everyone’s body works the same…” your words become muffled by your own lips.

“Oh?” she laughs. “You almost sound like you know him better than I have in the past four years.”

Past four years? It’s almost certain they share a history together. Your gut instincts painfully tell you so.

“Anyways, I’m not here to argue with you, Y/N. I apologize if I stepped over the line just now,” her hand reaches for yours over the table and she smiles. “I get it. To you guys, us dancers seem reckless, and I admit it, we go overboard sometimes. That’s why we, especially Hoseok, need people, like you, by our sides to tell us when enough is enough.”

Her gaze sees right through you and there’s nothing you could do other than avert your eyes to the side to prevent her from reading through your transparency. It feels like she’s telling you something, hinting at an implication, but you just can’t quite get it.

You can’t read her like she or even Hoseok does to you.

“If his injury really is the reason behind his hiatus, then why hasn’t he tried to recover? Or,” you nearly choke on your own gasp, “has… he?”

“As much as I seem to know him, Y/N, I actually can’t answer that question. I really don’t know,” she sighs. “Even I’m surprised. I thought he would bounce back. He truly loved dance. He loved it to death… but maybe he never did. I don’t know if I overestimated him. I was hoping you would know. He won’t let me anywhere near him now.”

Of course not, you bite your tongue. As much as you admire Keiko for her sheer willpower, her constant disregard for Hoseok’s well-being and even questioning his passion irks you the wrong way.

“So,” she softly utters, holding your hand to avert your gaze back to hers, “can you help me, Y/N?”

Stop prying, his voice echoes; even your deepest conscience knows Hoseok doesn’t want you to help.

“Why would I do that? We’re not close or anything. I’ll be sticking my nose into someone else’s business.”

Your remark elicits a slight scoff of disbelief from Keiko as she grins at you with furrowed brows.

“Don’t you like him? Don’t you like Hoseok, I mean?”

“W-What?” you immediately shake your head. “No, I don’t know what makes you think that or whatever the boys told you, but even if I wanted to help, I can’t.”

“Oh, but I think you can,” she leans back into her seat and crosses her arms before turning to glance out the window displaying the black silhouette of the cityscape. “In fact, you’re the only one who can. At the rate Hoseok is going, I don’t think he’ll ever return to the dance scene… but you can change that.”

Everyone seems to have expectations from you, but it doesn’t matter when the person in need of help himself refuses your aid.

But you want to help him, even if that means he won’t ever dance again.

You’ve come to realize, through trial and error, all you could wish for him is bliss.

“...what makes you think that?”

“I promise I’m not doing this to gain your favor or try to persuade you, but,” she turns away from the window and leans into the table with a smile, “I’ve seen the look in his eyes when he mentions you.”

“But… but I thought…”

...I thought you never met up with him before after his injury, is what you meant to say, but the rapid beats of your heart elicited by her confession prevents you from budging a single inch.

Maybe they really are dating and you’re just being toyed around by the both of them.

“I… I just have one question,” you blurt before your more rational self could talk you out of it; for once, you’re acting on impulse and ego, but perhaps you deserve it after everything you’ve been through for the sake of him. It’s time you do something for yourself. “...did you and Hoseok ever have a relationship?”

Keiko arches both brows at you in surprise, “a relationship?”

“As in… have you two dated before?”

Silence ensues as she ponders for a few seconds and smiles, a soft chuckle drifting from her lips, “and what would you say if I said yes? Would you dislike me? Would you not do me this favor?”

Immediately, your heart sinks and something in your stomach drops.

Ah, so it’s a yes; crestfallen for reasons unknown, you begin collecting your things.

“I’ll think about it because I want to make sure this does Hoseok more good than it does me or any of us waiting for him to take the stage again,” standing up, you continue, looking her straight in the eye, “and I’m not doing this for you because I don’t appreciate the way you demean Hoseok and his own health and efforts.”

“Then who are you doing this for?”

You frown; isn’t the answer obvious enough?

“Hoseok.”

A wide grin spreads across her lips from ear to ear as she suppresses a giddy smile, quickly grabbing your hand and squeezing it firmly, “thank you, Y/N. Really, thank you. I mean it when I say you’re the only one who can bring him out of his darkest times. I’m counting on you.”

Gradually and hesitantly, you nod, slowly turning your back on the exit to make your way out the way you made it in.

Step by step, they gain momentum until you find yourself marching out of the restaurant on a mission to brew a storm in search of the world’s ends, for the hidden sun is long due for its rise.

[lady-vixen-17]

Heart Strings [Dolores x Fem!Reader]

Description: These feelings I have are foreign, and unexplored. These feelings are ones I shouldn’t have for her sake and for mine. But she plays with my heartstrings so painfully, without even knowing. These feelings I have…. They shouldn’t be, I’ve tried so hard to push them aside, so that I can help her confess to the man that I know has her heart. But when she looks at me, and my heartbeat picks up I’m reminded of all the things I can’t have. Because I am me, and I am a girl, and she is in love with another that is a man. But her eyes are like honey and her voice is like silk, and when she smiles at me I forget all the bad, and I just want to forever live in this moment for the time that I can. For these emotions that I feel need to go, but my heart yearns for her… but in this life time and perhaps the next I must watch from the side as she falls into love with another that isn’t me…And I can’t help but feel that life would have been easier had I been born a man.

Master List

Part 2. Part 3

AO3 link to Heart Strings as updates here will be slow and sometimes forgotten <3

Chapter 1 - Numb Little Bug

When the sound of a softy played guitar wafted through the air and hit the ears of Dolores Madrigal she found herself intrigued, and drawn to the source of the sound; the gentleness in which the strings were plucked was one she wasn’t familiar with in the Encanto.

She glanced around, her eyes landing on Camilo for a moment before she turned away. “Camilo” when his name was called the teen turned his attention from the kids he was entertaining to his sister, brows furrowing in concern at the concentrated look his sister wore. “What’s wrong Dolores?” Dolores stayed silent a moment before she spoke, hardly above a whisper. “I… hold on…” she held up a hand, silently shushing Camilo before he could speak up once more, and he along with the children silenced themselves as Dolores tilted her head and brought a hand to her ear.

“I’ll be right back…”

Camilo stood up right away, worry pooling in his eyes as he weaved through the kids surrounding him to grab his sisters wrist. “I can come with you” Dolores shook her head and smiled, gently pulling her wrist from her younger brothers grasp. “It’s nothing bad, no one’s hurt I’m just curious on something I’m hearing” at the reassurance Camilo’s tense shoulders sagged in relief.

“What should I tell mamí if she starts to worry? Camilo questioned, his eyes looking towards the Casita for only a moment before he looked back to his older sister. “You can just tell her I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a reply Dolores started her trek, hand by her ear as she focused on the hesitant strum of strings.

The sound dragged her into the woods, and with hesitant steps she pushed through thing brush, pushing branches out of the way as she carved a new path through the foliage. When a clearing made its presents know Dolores stopped her trek, ears straining as she listened to the guitar that had mostly stopped.

“Ay… idiota no es tan dificil” the voice caught her off guard and Dolores squeaked before turning to the sound her eyes locking with a girl she knew to be a few years younger than her. She sat on a smooth boulder, guitar clasped in her hands as she used on hand to rub her neck in annoyance.

“Y/n?” Jumping in surprise Y/n shifted forward before she pushed herself forward, jumping down after her guitar as it tumbled off her lap and down towards the ground.

“No no no!” Y/n’s hand quickly shot forward and grasped the worn wood tightly, her feet hit the ground with a heavy thump, a quiet sigh leaving her lips as she relaxed her tense shoulders. “Lo siento… I didn’t mean to startle you” the (hair colour) females shoulders tensed once more and she turned to the voice that had caused her to nearly wreck her guitar.

There stood a young woman Y/n was very familiar with, her red skirt was tightly gripped between nimble fingers and her shoulders were raised with what the younger girl could only assume was shock and surprise at the reaction she had caused. Her other hand raised and tucked closely to her chest.

“Dolores!” At the flinch and hands that naturally moved to cover her ears Y/n grimaced at her unintentional loud voice. “Lo siento…. I-uhh” readjusting her grip on the guitar neck Y/n pulled the instrument closer to her body, her free hand distractedly playing with the strap.

“People don’t normally… come out here…” Y/n’s hands quickly pulled the strap over her head and she flipped the guitar to rest upon her back, head of the guitar unusually facing towards the ground, instead of facing the sky. Y/n’s left hand naturally griped at the head of the guitar securely, holding it safely for travel if she had to make a hasty trek back to the village.

Dolores nodded and lowered her hands slowly, wide honey brown eyes taking in the younger girls features a moment before she smiled. “Can you play again?” Taken aback by the question Y/n took a small step back, heels hitting the rock she previously sat on. Her hand unsurely tightening on the head of her guitar. “I… I don’t play…”

Dolores tilted her head at Y/n’s words and simply watched the younger girl for a moment before Y/n sighed and her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I’m not that good” Dolores smiled and took a small step forward. “It sounded great” a beat of silence passed as she came to a stop by Y/n’s side. “you’re Señor Vasquez daughter correct?” Y/n nodded, her eyes shifting over the second oldest grandchild of Alma Madrigal a moment longer before nodding.

“I’m sorry for being so loud earlier…” Y/n smiled, albeit sheepish. “I’m not used to people coming out here…” Dolores smiled and waved a hand, brushing off the apology. “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you” Dolores eyed the guitar once more and Y/n shifted a little. Her gaze dropping to the ground as she held her breath in anticipation for the question she knew would be asked again. “Do… do you still want to hear me play?” Y/n asked quietly. Dolores’ eyes quickly shifted to look up at the younger girl and she nodded with a smile.

“Alright…. Anything for a Madrigal”

~

Dolores glanced around a moment, her hands clasping a wine glass between her hands tightly as she silently urged Y/n forward with a hand to the younger females back. “Dolores” a shush followed and Y/n huffed quietly but smiled none the less. Her own eyes glancing around as Dolores came to a stop. “Here” Y/n stood confused for a moment, eyes on Dolores as she held the glass out to her.

“Have a drink” standing tense Y/n glanced around once more, unsure eyes soon coming to rest on the Madrigal in front of her. “I’m seventeen…” Dolores shrugged her shoulders at Y/n’s words before she let out a little squeak as she pulled the glass back towards her body, eyes looking to the courtyard a moment as Julieta passed by.

“solo un sorbo, o el vaso” Dolores shrugged as she held the glass out once more with a encouraging smile. “Please? For me?”

‘For her?’ Without much more thought Y/n reached forward and took the glass with hesitant hands. “Maybe it’ll loosen you up too you’re so tense” Dolores tensed “Diego is here finally” she squealed quietly before looking over her shoulder. “You should talk to him” lifting the glass to her lips Y/n sighed quietly. And with a roll of her eyes she tilted the glass and her head back.

Wine tainted her tongue in an unfamiliar taste, and warmed her stomach as she swallowed down half of Dolores’ glass. As she forced herself to finish off the last few drinks she was startled into a coughing fit she attempted to suppress, as Dolores squeaked unexpectedly and rushed to push Y/n’s hand and glass down. “Mamí” a small crack of thunder caused Y/n to hold her breath despite the painful itch to cough that clawed at the back of her throat.

“What are you two doing?” Pepa crossed her arms as she shifted her weight to one leg and tried to peak around Dolores’ frame to look at the girl hiding skillfully behind her daughter.

Pepa tapped the floor with annoyance as her cloud darkened. “Dolores.” Dolores stared wide eyed at her mother as she crossed her arms behind her back, silently wiggling her fingers asking for the glass back. Y/n slowly placed the empty cup back in Dolores hands and smiled nervously at Pepa. “I drank a little too much wine!” Dolores squeaked out her raised voice causing herself to cringe at the volume. She pulled her hands out in front of her to show her mother the empty glass. Straining her smile Y/n kept her lips as still as she could, muttering under her breath as she glanced in fear between the angry and annoyed mother and her daughter. “I’m dead… so very dead”

A hiccup bubbled in Y/n chest and the tainting taste of wine followed and she choked on the air trying to suppress the sound. “Lo siento!” Dolores raised her shoulders in surprise and turned to Y/n who with a apologetic smiled took a few slow steps away. “I’m not feeling too great right now. I’m going into go get something to eat from Julieta” she wheezed out and pointed over her shoulder as she took a step to turn around before she ran into a pillar in her hasty attempt to escape.

“Blurry vision…” Y/n shook her head, forcing herself to ignore the pressure that ran to her head and made her feel woozy, and smiled sheepishly in the direction of Pepa. “I’ll go help her” Dolores said quickly, rushing to Y/n’s side with a nervous squeaked hmm.

Dolores looped her arm with Y/n’s as she pulled her in the direction she knew Julieta was in. And she knew from past experiences, it was best to just get a bite from Julieta, even if the excuse was a white lie. “You almost gave us away” Dolores whisper yelled close to Y/n’s ear before she leaned back to stand up straight once more. Missing the subtile shiver that clawed it’s was through Y/n’s body at the warm breath that tickled her pleasantly.

“I’m not the one who can’t lie to save her life…. Plus your mom is scary when she’s storming” Y/n muttered back, as she waved to Camilo who nodded in greeting before continuing his conversation with Mirabel.

“She’s not that scary” Dolores forced herself to keep looking forward despite wanting to look back at Y/n as she felt her very being be judged by the younger girl. “Stop looking at me like that” Y/n shook her head and hummed quietly in amusement. “I’m just admiring my amigas pretty face… sorry that’s the wines fault.”

Dolores shook her head and leaned closer to Y/n. “Oh please, do keep feeding me compliments. It won’t hurt anyone” Y/n hummed as they neared Julieta. “Alright, only because you’re you bonita” Dolores hummed in satisfaction as she continued to drag Y/n along, keeping her stead as they walked.

“In case I forget late because I know your going to keep drowning me in wine. Happy twenty-first birthday Dolores”

She didn’t talk to Diego that night, instead her time was spent dancing a dangerous dance of how much wine can Dolores sneak into Y/n’s system before someone noticed. By the end of the night her lips were stained red from both the wine and the lingering flecks of red lipstick Dolores wore. The glass was Dolores’ after all, and to avoid suspicion Dolores quietly urged the younger girl to drink from the place she had.

Burning their trail of mischief below red lipstick.

~

A few months later when thunder struck, and light tainted the skies an electric white Y/n knew her first thought shouldn’t have been worry for Dolores, and the loud sounds that storms like these dragged along.

Even she knew she should be worried for the Madrigals as a whole, she ran with skirt in hand, praying she wouldn’t fall as she pushed herself, legs aching and her lungs burning. Tucked under her free arm a jacket and a few thin blankets. Even though she was prepared to help everyone her first priority was checking on Dolores, making sure Dolores was okay, and to find a way to muffle the wailing sounds of destruction.

When she reached the remains of Casita her eyes quickly scanned the Madrigals, eyes quickly landing on Antonio being cradled in Pepa’s arms, his hand on his head as he shivered, clothes clinging to his small frame. “Pepa!” When she called out she immediately had three sets of eyes on her. “Ayy Toñito, you’re being so brave and so strong!” Y/n threw on a smile she was familiar with, one she used to comfort hurting children and she quickly forced her legs to move, burning as they were.

She smiled at Pepa and pulled on of the thicker blankets out. “Y/n… Gracias” The gratitude was clear as day in Pepa’s voice and Y/n simply shook her head as she reached forward. Wrapping the blanket around the five year old Y/n gave him an encouraging look. “There. All snug like a bug in a rug.” Y/n gently poked the young boys nose teasingly, and let out a quiet laugh as Antonio giggled at her antics. “Señora, would you like a blanket too?”

When Pepa shook her head she looked to her middle child with worry as she scanned gist drenched frame. “Camilo?” He slowly stepped forward a small smile pulling at his lips as he tried to force a smile. “Gracias…” he took the blanket in his hands, his free hand shooting forward to grasp her hand before Y/n could pull away completely. “Dolores won’t talk to us right now… but our gifts… the candle” reaching forward Y/n shushed the fifteenth year old and wiped at the light tears that sparsely fell.

“Maybe she’ll talk to you…” Camilo pushed, his hand tightening a fraction. “Please, at least try, I’m worried about her. It was loud when everything broke apart, and I don’t know how loud it got for her before we lost our gifts.”

Y/n nodded as she pulled herself away from Camilo, her eyes turning to scan the debris, her attention momentarily caught my Julieta as she frantically ran out of the wreckage. Worry evident in her eyes, the cries for Mirabel shooting sparks of worry through Y/n herself. Turning away she promised to herself. ‘I’ll help… I’ll help find Mirabel… I’ll help’

When Y/n reached Dolores she was standing in the middle of a bunch of broken bricks and cement, eyes on the ground as she rubbed at her right ear with a single hand. And when Y/n accidentally stumbled over bricks, she didn’t, she hardly even moved. But her attention was caught, and the only signal that she knew about Y/n nearing was the subtile look before she was back to looking at the ground.

“Blanket or jacket?” When the question went unanswered Y/n let her shoulders drop in mild defeat, her feet carrying her through the rubble as she closed the distance between herself and Dolores. “Lolita?” A slight shift from the female and Y/n reached a hand forward to rest on Dolores’ shoulder. “It’s too quiet…” the words were muttered, and Y/n strained her ears to pick up enough of what Dolores said to understand her quiet voice.

“I can’t hear her.” Dolores turned and looked at Y/n with scared eyes. “I can always hear her…. Hear everyone.” Y/n stayed silent as she let Dolores speak. Her breathing picked up and Y/n stepped a closer, feet carefully stepping between broken brick. “Y/n I-!“ Dolores cut herself off by wrapping her arms around herself. The loudness of Dolores’ voice was startling, and although it had caused Y/n to jump in mild fright she stayed grounded. Pushing herself closer to Dolores as her breathing staggered unevenly.

“She’s gone and I can’t hear her!” Lifting her hands Dolores took in a staggered breath, feet stumbling over themselves as she stepped back before she lowered herself to the ground. Hands clasped tightly over her ears, as her shut her eyes. “I can’t hear her… but it’s still so loud right now…” her words were quiet once more as she gripped at her hair loosely.

Stepping forward Y/n silently unraveled her jacket, and gently laid it over Dolores’ shoulders. “Breath Dolores, everything will be okay, we will find her, and everything will work itself out.” Y/n reassured as she kneeled in front of Dolores, not worried about the dirt and mud as she reached forward.

Her hands wiped away Dolores’ tears and Y/n gently urged the Madrigal to look up at her. “Look at me Lolita…” when clouded honey eyes finally met with hers. As her heart rate picked up Y/n put on her smile. Her skin warming as she allowed her thumbs to continue to rub the tears that fell on Dolores’ amber cheeks. “I’ll help look with everyone, and everything will eventually work itself out”

‘My heart shouldn’t be beating so fast… why does my skin burn where she touches. I want it to stop….’ Y/n shook the thought from her mind as tight arms wrapped around her body, and she allowed her hands to move, one rubbing Dolores’ back in soothing circular motions, the other resting around Dolores waist.

‘Having you here feels so right… like I was made to hold you, and protect you’

~

“I didn’t think the silence could ring so loud” the words caught Y/n of guard, and she found herself turning her attention from Camilo to Dolores, their previous conversation dying out as Dolores stayed focused on the guitar pick in her hands.

“It’s like a constant ringing…” Y/n moved back on her bed, her back resting on the wall as she watched Dolores closely. “It sometimes feels hard to…. Focus in one sound, I’m so used to being drown in sound I forgot there was such a thing as silence… and it’s deafeningly loud”

Reaching her hand forward Y/n grasped Dolores, forcing her hand closed. “I’m great full… I really am but sometimes it feels like I’m missing a part of me now….” Y/n nodded listening carefully to the Madrigals words, “like your body’s in the room but you’re not really there?” The room sat in silence for a moment before Dolores let out a quiet pity full laugh at Y/n words, nodding before she added to the sentence. “Like a numb little bug” Camilo choked back a laugh at his sisters add on to the comment and leaned back in his chair.

“Really Camilo? We’re having a moment” Dolores rolled her eyes as she nudged her brothers knee with her foot, amusement flooding her eyes as she leaned back and to the side, resting her head on Y/n’s shoulder and closing her eyes. “If the silence gets to be to much, you know where to find me Lolita… I can play my guitar to drown out the silence.”

Camilo cleared his throat as he smiled at his sister and Y/n. His eyes drifting to the window as he rubbed his arm. “Spit it out ‘Milo… we won’t judge you” when Y/n spoke up Camilo was quick to look over at her once more. “My safe place is now yours since you two like to invade my privacy so much” Dolores hummed quietly before she sat up straight, worried honey eyes turning to to look at her brother.

“Well… since we are in the mood already… I didn’t know I could hate me own reflection so much” Y/n shook her head and pulled the boy to her side, arms wrapping around his shoulders as she leaned into Dolores’ side. “I don’t feel like I know who I am anymore” his words were quiet as he spoke, basking in the warmth of the arms around him. “Sometimes I look in the mirror and I don’t know who I see…”

Dolores chimed in as she reached across Y/n’s lap, grasping her brothers hand tightly within her own. “Well, I see a nice boy, who makes people smile” Camilo held back a small smile as he looked over to Dolores. “A nice boy who takes care of his mamá” Y/n added, her arms tightening around Camilo as he shook his head. “A nice boy who can’t accept compliments” Camilo gave Y/n a look as she ruffled his hair, speaking quietly. “You still have your dumb jokes…. At least you still have that” Camilo sat up and frowned with faux annoyance as he crossed his arms.

“Don’t forget about his appetite” Dolores chimed, amusement oozing from her as she laughed openly about joking the two were doing to her brother. “Right how could I ever forget. He eats like he’s never eaten in his life” the three let out their own amused sounds of laughter before it quieted once more.

“I’m just saying it’s different, the family wanted you for you… it felt like the family only really needed me when I was Jośe or someone else… how can I be me?” Sighing Camilo flopped to the side, his head resting on Y/n’s lap as he looked up at his sister. “We just need some time to get back on our feet ‘Milo” Y/n nodded at Dolores words and pat Camilo’s cheek affectionately.

“Both of you are welcome here when ever you need. I’ll always welcome you too.. for who you are” Y/n pinched Camilo’s cheek and tugged annoyingly, earning a glare from the teen. “Y/n! Dolores! Camilo! Come eat!” Camilo’s eyes lit up, but as he moved to stand up with Dolores he was pushed back down my his older sister.

“I’ll grab everything for us” Y/n followed Dolores as she moved across the room and hummed quietly in acknowledgment as she allowed her hand to absentmindedly moved to play with Camilo’s hair. “You know…” her attention moved to the male laying in her lap as Dolores turned to head downstairs. “I’m glad Dolores has you” Y/n tilted her head as she shifted slightly. Camilo’s head moved with the movement and he closed his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You stuck around, didn’t ask her what someone was saying about you, and she seemed the most herself around you” Y/n stopped running her hands through Camilo’s hair and stared down at the teen. “What do you mean?” Camilo opened an eye and peaked up at the girl a moment after the question left her lips.

“What I mean is, Dolores doesn’t just go around sneaking just anyone drinks. And yes I knew; The loudest I had ever seen her get without covering her own ears was when she was with you.” Y/n’s breath was caught in her throat as she processed Camilo’s words. “It was like her gift was forgotten about and she could be who she was meant to be.” Camilo closed his eyes once more, humming quietly in content relaxation as Y/n slowly continued to comb her fingers through his curly locks.

“I think the only really Mamí didn’t get mad was because of how happy Dolores looked sneaking you glass after glass of wine. She didn’t look stressed over the loudening sounds of her party.” Y/n felt her heart beat pick up, hammering against her chest and echoing loudly in her ears. “Don’t change Y/n, I’ll have your back through thick and thin. Just like you have my hermanas. Nothing will change that” Y/n smiled as she looked back to the door a moment as the distant sound of footsteps reached her ears.

“Do you promise?” Y/n asked quietly, eyes glancing down as she sighed quietly, eyes locked with hazel eyes and Camilo smiled. “I know you might not think much of it because I’m ‘Camilo Madrigal, the jokester’ but I’ll have your back no matter what.” They sat in silence a moment as footsteps came to a stop at the door and Y/n looked up with a bright smile, not noticing the hazel eyes that were observing her closely as he sat up.

“Y/n I think your Papa is trying to steal my hermano.” Camilo perked up as he shifted his attention from Y/n to his sister. “He’s not going to want to come home if you guys keep feeding him like this” jumping up Camilo moved to help his sister right away, taking the plate she held balanced on her arm, coincidentally the one piled with extra helpings of food.

Dolores quickly moved to Y/n’s side and sat next to her as she held out a plate. And observant eyes didn’t fail to catch the look that crossed Y/n features. He hummed quietly as he moved to the chair he had originally been sitting in. He lifted an arepa and hit into it as he silent observed the two chat.

~

Months passed by and Dolores found herself continuing to go to the secluded forest clearing, with Y/n. Dress clenched between her hands as she weaved through branches, following the younger girl as she carved the trail for Dolores to follow. “What did you want to come out here for today?”

‘With a soft soothing voice of silk and honeydew eyes I wonder how I’ll survive.’ Y/n thought as she unnecessarily fiddled with the strap of her guitar. “I know we don’t really have to come here anymore, because of your… gift and all but… this is like our place now…” Y/n hummed quietly to herself and pulled her guitar around to rest in front of her instead of on her back.

“Okay…. Okay” Y/n took in a deep breath, as she sent a nervous smile to Dolores and readjusted her grip on her guitar, hands nervously readjusting the capo on the fourth feet unnecessarily to distract herself. “Just… it’s not quite done…. But! Umm after our talk I…. Kind of… umm wrote this….” Y/n looked to the side, staring at the softly blowing grass for a moment to ground herself, before she straightened her stance and moved her left hand to sit comfortably at the first position her fingers needed to be.

Her fingers tingled in anticipation for the pressure of the metal strings and the vibrations to follow. She swallowed thickly, eyes closing as she strummed down, fingers shaking and numbly moving to rest upon the next cord before she strummed down twice quietly.

“Haven't caught up with my friends in weeks” her voice was quiet, barely above the sound of the guitar before Y/n swallowed and raised her voice, the fact that she didn’t have to be quiet anymore around Dolores clawing at her throat to sing louder, the reminder numbed her fingers, urging her to strum stronger.

“And now we're outta touch” her fingers moved quickly, pressing down on the strings in a trained manner, strumming down stronger in reassurance that she didn’t have to hold back in fear of hurting her dear friends ears any longer.

“And the world it feels too big, Like a floating ball, that's bound to break, Snap my psyche like a twig” Y/n’s voice flowed out with more confidence and her fingers moved more surely, strumming on the beats she had written and timed out. “And I just wanna see if you feel the same as me” her right palm rested on the strings a beat, stopping the strings vibrations before she lifted it her hand and strummed once again.

“Do you ever get a little bit tired of life, Like you're not really happy but you don't wanna die, Like you're hanging by a thread but you gotta survive, ‘Cause you gotta survive” Y/n’s voice rang out loud and clear and she smiled as she focused purely on the sound of the guitar, mind on the next line of lyrics she had to sing.

“Like your body's in the room but you're not really there, Like you have empathy inside but you don't really care, Like you're fresh outta love but it's been in the air, Am I past repair?” Dolores sat up straighter in her chair, leaning forward, elbows rested on her knees and chin rested on a raised hand. Honey brown eyes on the younger female before her as she sang.

Y/n looked up, eyes locking with honey brown for a moment before she quickly looked away, eyes closing as she strummed twice, hand stoping the sound a moment before she strummed again. “A little bit tired of tryin' to care when I don't, A little bit tired of quick repairs to cope, A little bit tired of sinkin'” Y/n took in a breath, her hands shaking a moment as nervousness shot through her body like lightning.

“There's water in my boat, I'm barely breathin'” Y/n took in a shaky break and she grimaced as she misplayed a note and nervous eyes shifted to Dolores. The older female simple nodded encouragingly and gave Y/n a smile that urged the younger girl to keep playing.

“Tryna stay afloat, So I got these quick repairs to cope, Guess I'm just broken and broke” Y/n strummed once before stopping the strings. Eyes drifting to the neck of her guitar as she got to a fast portion of mostly tab, fingers expertly picking at the overly practiced portion of the song.

“Boy, I wish that I could count, ‘Cause I just wanna see if this could make me happy” Y/n let out a quiet sigh as she continued to play tab, finger aching with the pressure she pressed on the stings with and continued to play without singing. The cords soon vibrated into silence and Dolores let out a quiet laugh. “Y/n, Cuervoita! That’s so beautiful!”

‘Almost as beautiful as you’ Y/n smiled as she was pulled into a hug, and her skin burned painfully with the touch she craved, and it was at this moment that Y/n realized how utterly screwed she was. When honey eyes met (eye colour) eyes her fate was sealed. Because those eyes… Y/n could get lost in them for the rest of her days if she was given the chance. “Oh right before I forget!” When the warmth was was ripped away Y/n sighed quietly to herself. Missing the touch that burned her skin in want.

“What is it Lolita” Dolores smiled a little wider at the new found nickname and and let out a squeak and she stood on her tiptoes. “I have a chance!” At the odd sentence Y/n tilted her head confusion pooling behind her eyes as Dolores quietly fidgeted in excitement. “A chance?” Dolores hummed and nodded quietly as she stepped away from Y/n. Grabbing her wrist as she started pulling the younger girl back towards the village.

“Their betrothal has been called off, Isabela confessed to everyone she didn’t want to marry Mariano” those words shouldn’t have hurt as they did, Y/n knew that, she should be happy for Dolores. ‘So you finally get your happy ending….’

“Oh…. That’s great!” Y/n forced herself to smile as she was pulled along a route she has long since memorized. And soon her house came into view. As they neared Y/n dreaded the thoughts of how their conversation would inevitably drift to boy talk, and to one man in particular that has had Dolores’ attention for as long as she could remember.

~

Their paths are fated. Much like the Sol y Luna. When she pulls, her beloved pushes, and when th pushes she pulls, for their paths are fated. Not destined to cross until fate sees fit. Forced to lead the lives destined for them until the ends of time, their dance is one that is written in the books. For when the sol shines bright the Luna’s beauty truly shines through. But when their paths finally cross the sight is one to behold. So beautifully dangerous.

For their dance had finally come to a stand still for only a moment, when her sols hands are in her hands the Luna can finally rest at ease. Because her warmth is one the Luna will crave, until their next meet. So painfully warm, but so lovingly careful.

[k1ngtok1]

Jamie + O!

O. The stars or space

(Send me a character and a letter and I’ll write a short fic!)

That’s the thing about stars. There’s so much distance between them.

Jamie looked it up once. The sun and the nearest star were 4.2465 light-years apart, about 5.88 trillion miles. Space was, as he had heard it put once, mostly void, partially stars.

Distance was his thing, as the Elemental Master of Space, despite it being the thing he despised the most. He hated feeling the gaps between himself and the things he loved grow ever wider with the constant expansion of the universe. The only thing holding together his fabric of time and space was his heartstrings, which only grew more and more taught as time passed. Space, the element, was created in direct opposition of Time, as a system of checks and balances. Together they made up the fabric of the universe and the loom that held it all together.

But Space didn’t thrive off of distance or the space between objects. If anything, it grew stronger when loved ones were held close. The shorter, higher pitched heartstrings between himself and the ones he cared about, and those who loved him in turn, gave him strength from its powerful tune.

“How did you do it?” The field was filled with yellow butterflies who’s wings contrasted lightly against the star-covered sky. The grass was damp, soaking through his outer blazer, but he did not feel the cold against the summer air.

There was a light giggle to his right, “You’re gonna have to be more specific then that, space cadet.”

The nickname would have plucked the string between them, had it still been there, “How did you deal with it?” He said, “When you ran away. How did you do it?”

Lynda’s smile didn’t fade. She simply mirrored his position with her arms behind her head, “The distance, you mean? That pull?”

He hummed in affirmation, and Lynda turned back to the sky, “It was hard. Abandonment and loss is common for Space Elementals from what the old geezer told me. He said it teaches us to value the things we have.” She shrugged, “At first, it sounded like a load of crap, but then…” she sighed, “I felt that tug. It was so strong sometimes, telling me to come back home to you, even though I knew I had to stay away until I was ready to come home.”

But you never did, thought Jamie, bitterly. You left and never came back. You left me.

“I think I dealt with it by knowing you were safe, and still loved me somewhere back in Astor city.” The bitterness in Jamie’s mind faded a bit as she spoke. Leave it to their sister to be a selfless, kind person who only cared about her little sibling, “The tugs come from those heartstrings you keep telling me about, right?”

He nodded, “Yeah.” Even though he was only a music person in the way he always had his earbuds in, his heart chose to express itself through a harp of its own making, though it lacked too many strings to be called one. It wasn’t an instrument he could play. The strings plucked themselves with each kind action and surge of affection that welled up inside of him.

“Mine was more of one of those red strings of fate all the romance novels tell you about.” She held her hand up, palm raised to the stars so far away, “They’re gone now, but I used to feel a bit like a puppeteer, with how they wrapped around my fingers. In the end, though, only yours and Auntie’s were left.” Jamie could almost see it- the glowing yellow chords tied in intricate knots around each knuckle, “Our element manifests itself in our bodies and minds as the shortest path between two objects, those objects being ourselves and the people we hold dear. I remember I would wrap yours around my finger and tug, ‘cus I thought it would maybe let you know I was there.

He hummed, “I think I get it.” He placed a hand over his heart like he was pledging his loyalty to something left unseen, “When it broke, it started to coil up and move out of the way.” He had a lot of those strings from old friends who talked behind his back and places he left behind, “‘s all knotted, now.”

He remembered the snap. He remembered how sick he felt, late that evening as he was walking home from school. They remembered having to catch themselves on the nearest wall and try not to choke on bile. That was the night of the first dream. The ones filled with blood and butterflies unlike the ones that floated peacefully around his head now. They weren’t as often as they used to be. Back then, he woke up covered in sweat and choking on wings almost every night. Now, a lot of the dreams were peaceful.

But it was impossible to ignore the emptiness in his chest, even more so now that he held the element.

“I miss you, Lyn.” They whispered.

His sister leaned up on her elbow, causing her long blonde hair to spill across her shoulders, and placed a hand on his cheek, but he could not feel it in the way he wanted to. There was no pressure of her skin or sensation of her presence, only a comforting warmth.

“Cheer up, buttercup.” She said with a soft smile, “I gave you a part of me, remember? It’s right here.” She took her hand away to place it against the hand which covered his heart. The warmth grew and the strings in his chest plucked a bittersweet tune.

He smiled back, “Yeah. How could I forget?”

“I gave you my power,” she continued as she laced her fingers with his, “I’ll always be with you, Jamie. ‘Kay?”

He squeezed her hand. He wished he could have felt her squeeze back.

“Okay.”

When he woke up, he couldn’t remember the dream. It must have been a good one, with how the feeling of comfort and warmth remained long after. The one thing he could recall was the grin on Lynda’s face as she reached to the sky.

Today, Jamie would like to think that the strings are like the lines drawn between the stars that make up the constellations.

No matter how far the universe tries to pull him away, he would always be connected.

The stars would guide him home.

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Nine

chapter nine

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: date night!! this is very fluffy, very emotional and extremely horny. edgar allan poe is rolling in his grave at what they did in his enchanted garden

exhibitionism, public sex (no ones there tho), drug mentions at the end (let me know if I should tag anything else!!!!)

word count: 5.4k

from the beginning <3

He spent all of Thursday afternoon with Penelope in Richmond, setting up for his date that night.

Stringing lights on the trees, mowing the grass and trimming the flowers back, the staff ensuring that the museum was in pristine condition for them tonight, it was perfect. The cats were brushed, there were rose petals the fountain and the most beautiful picnic set up in the garden.

Penelope packed their dinner for them, keeping it in the museum fridge for when they finally arrived, it was the only thing Spencer needed to remember.

Y/N: just got home, about to get ready! Can’t wait to see you at 6 ♥︎

Spencer smiled at his phone, about to text her back when Penelope laid a hand on his back, “change into your suit and head back to her, traffic might be bad?”

“Thank you, for everything. You’ve always been my best friend, more of big sister actually,” Spencer pressed his lips together tightly as to not get emotional. “You’re wonderful Penelope, thank you.”

“Awe!” She swooned, wrapping him up in a big hug. “I will always love you, Spencer, you deserve all of this and so, so much more, now go before I cry.”

He laughed, pulling back, hand lingering on her shoulder as he walked into the museum. They let him change in the backroom, it felt incredibly strange to be putting on a suit inside Edgar Allan Poe's house to go pick up his wife. Not too long ago he dreamed about bringing a girlfriend here someday, life was moving too quickly, he needed a breather.

He kept his suit jacket folded and on the passenger seat as he drove home, where he lived with his family. Even just thinking that as he paid attention to the road made him smile. The wind hitting his face, his hair blowing in the breeze, he felt free at last.

He was where he was supposed to be, all roads lead to here.

Travelling up her driveway with a smile on his face as the dust followed him to her doorstep. She was waiting in a red dress on the porch, Amoreena and her nanny eating pizza on the steps as they waited for him.

Stepping out of his car, he straightened his tie and pulled his pants up more, looking at his wife like she was a star plucked from the sky, landing in this Virginia field for him.

She stood then, her satin dress flowing and exposing a leg as she walked down the steps to him, “Is this what you wanted?” She twirled in front of him to show it all off, her hair getting stuck in her lipstick and making her laugh.

“I love you,” is all he can say as she leaning in with a wide grin, surpassing the smile to kiss him gently, using her thumb to get all the lipstick off his bottom lip and chin.

“Love you too, cutie,” she winked, taking his hand and turning back towards Amoreena, “listen to Nanny, remember we love you and we will see you no earlier than 7:30 tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes ma’am!” She saluted, mouth full of pizza.

“And what are the new rules about coming into our bed in the morning?”

“Knock first, wait till you respond, don’t come in unless you say it’s okay,” Amoreena replied, sticking her tongue out at her as she remembered it all.

“Smartie pants,” Y/N smiled at her, “come give us a hug, don’t get pizza on my dress, please.”

Amoreena wiped her sleeve over her mouth before running into her mother's open arms, they shared goodbye kisses before it was Spencer’s turn. She held him so tight it felt wonderful, “goodnight Lovey, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, have the best sleep ever for me?”

“I’ll see you in dreamland,” she replied, kissing his cheek gently before she pulled back.

“Have fun!” Nanny called from the porch as Amoreena skipped back to her.

“We will,” Spencer replied, taking Y/N’s hand and leading her to the passenger side, he opened her door and helped her inside, insuring her dress was inside before closing the door.

Jogging back to his door, he got in and put on his seatbelt. He threw the car in reverse and turned around by the barn, heading down the driveway, not saying a single thing as Y/N stared at him.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything?” She shook her head, licking her lip before biting it as she huffed.

“We’re going to Richmond, Virginia, to read,” he gave her one hint.

“Hmm,” she smiled, “I’m sure you won't tell me the title, so Mr. I can remember every book ever, what’s a random line in it?”

“You’re smart,” he teased her, “but for the brilliant green of the huge leaves that spread from their summits in long, tremulous lines, dallying with the Zephyrs—”

“We’re going to the Edgar Allan Poe Museum!” She cut him off with a cheer.

He slows down on the barren dirt road, mouth wide open as she got it right, he turns to her as they come to a complete stop, “how the heck did you get that?”

“Yes!” she laughed, tossing her head back as she clapped and kicked her feet a little, so proud of herself, “I’m a librarian, Spencer! Did you think I wouldn’t know Eleonora?”

“That’s the most random sentence in the whole poem?” Spencer was shocked, she recalled it faster than he thought he would be able to if she read a line to him.

“My brother’s first motorcycle was a Zephyr,” she smiled at him, raising her eyebrows. “My brain is kinda like a filing cabinet, if you give me a word I can remember everything I’ve ever heard with that word included.”

He started to drive again, shaking his head as he paid attention to the road but still astounded by how amazing she is. “Amoreena gets that from you then, she could have both our eidetic memories together, that would be very interesting to see.”

“Eidetic memory?” She questioned.

“It’s what most people call photographic memory,” Spencer explained. “You can remember everything you hear which is why you and Amoreena are able to recall songs, books and movie facts so fast, while I can read back to you anything I’ve read without having to see it again, it’s forever in my mind.”

“So we’re both geniuses, cool,” Y/N smiled at him again, “sorry I ruined your surprise.”

“You just know where we’re going,” he reminded her, laying his hand on hers, interlocking their fingers as he drove.

They had an hour alone before the real date started.

So she showed him all of her favourite songs, including some of Amoreena’s playlists so he could get familiar with them before their trip to Rhode Island. Her voice was impeccable, she knew all the words and harmonies, often opting to cove background voices he wouldn’t have even known were there if it wasn’t for her.

She loved music in a way that intrigued him, she enjoyed music with a story. Much like the reason she loved books so much, she enjoyed picturing the happy places in her mind that the songs were able to take her to, they filled her with glee and hope as she sang to her heart's content. Taking short breaks to explain the meanings of songs, to recite the best lyrics and why the songs are close to her heart.

“Do you want to hear the song that reminds me the most of you?” She asked between songs, pausing so that nothing else would start.

“Sure,” he blushed, nervous for what it could be and how she imagined him in her mind, hoping he could live up to it.

“I'm perfectly fine I live on my own, I made up on my mind, I'm better off bein' alone. We met a few weeks ago, now you try on callin' me, baby, like tryin' on clothes,”

She stares at him with a beautiful smile as she waits to see his reaction to the opening, finally singing when the beat drops, dancing softly in her seat as she belted the words out to him.

“So prove to me I'm your American Queen, and you move to me like I'm a Motown beat, and we rule the kingdom inside my room,” She brushed her hand across his jaw, teasing him as the words flow from her lips to his ears, she loves him and he can feel it with every syllable.

“And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for, King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa! And all at once, you are all I want, I'll never let you go King of my heart, body and soul, ooh whoa,” she sings so softly, with a purpose, turning it down a little so that he can talk to her.

“I love you,” he reminded her, “so much it hurts sometimes.”

“It’s like your heartstrings are tugging on each other, right?” She agreed, “like they want to jump out of our chests and run to each other.”

He nodded with a soft smile, reaching for her hand again holding it as he brought it to his mouth for a kiss, “queen of my heart.”

“Hmmm,” she thought over his words, “I’m pretty content with being princess still, Lady Amoreena is in line for the thrown, it’s part of her namesake after all.”

“Does the kingdom have a name?”

“You know the Elton John song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?” She waited for his nod, “my grandma called it Ozellous so it’s like wizard of Oz but I added the 'ellous' because people always said they were jealous of our farm.”

He’s trying his best to keep his eyes on the road when all he want’s to do is look at her smile, to see her pupil change as she recalls the loving memory, it’s his favourite thing to do. Better than any movie or play, seeing her face was better than looking at the most expensive art piece. He was so in love with all of her.

“Were you like Amoreena as a kid?”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed, “bullied hardcore for it too, kids always told me to shut up cause I’d add facts to conversations I wasn’t a part of.”

“I would have loved to listen,” Spencer replied softly, knowing the feeling all too well.

They were only a few minutes away now, turning into the small town and passing quaint little homes and cottages. “Amoreena would love this drive, these are some interesting townspeople homes for her imagination, we should come back sometime this summer.”

His heart was going to actually explode, she was everything he never knew he needed.

“I’d love that,” he added as they pulled into the museum. “I’m a museum member and I’m a patron, so sometimes I donate rare pieces I find, they love me here.”

Her mouth opened to speak, but her eyes got caught on the twinkling lights in the distance, mesmerized by everything. Old cobblestone streets, brick buildings and wooden gates, it was straight out of the 1800s and absolutely fantastical.

“And it’s all ours for the night,” he put the car in park and turned to her, “wait here?”

She nodded, speechless as she continued to look out the window at everything. Spencer got out of the car, opening the back seat to grab and put on his jacket, straighten out his suit before opening her door and extending a hand to help her out.

“Princess,” he extended his arm for her to tuck her own under, he closed her door and escorted her through the gate and towards the garden.

The sun was just starting to set, 7 pm in early June being the most beautiful time of year in rural Virginia, the sky was a perfect purple as he leads her through the stone arches towards the picnic.

Her eyes sparkled with all the lights, wide and pupils blown as she took it all in. It was a fairytale, she was in a princess dress, he was the king of her heart and this was just the beginning of happily ever after.

“Spencer, whatever your middle name is, Reid,” she gasped, swatting his arm lightly with a smile growing on her face.

“It’s Walter,” he smiled right back.

He let go of her hand then and walked over to a table, turning on the record player and dropping the needle in the right spot. He did his research into some Taylor Swift songs, finding one that reminded him the most of Y/N and how much he loved her.

“May I have this dance?” He asks as she notices the all too familiar guitar strumming.

He reaches a hand out for her, pulling her in as she takes it, “I was so so lost before I found you in the park,” he explains the first verse, barely a whisper beside her ear as they start to sway.

There I was again tonight forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity Shifting eyes and vacancy, vanished when I saw your face

“All I can say is it was enchanting to meet you,” he whispers once more, feeling the goosebumps bursting on her bare arms.

He spun her around, extending both their arms as she twirled out and then back into his embrace again with a giggle. She swayed back and forth, dancing with him like the night they got married in her field.

Your eyes whispered "have we met?" Across the room your silhouette starts to make it's way to me The playful conversation starts Counter all your quick remarks, like passing notes in secrecy

“And it was enchanting to meet you, All I can say is I was enchanted to meet you,” he sings them this time, spinning her out again as the chorus hits, her eyes widening as she began to smile wider than he’s ever seen before.

They sang the words together as they danced, smiling and laughing as they moved around the cobblestone. Finding a rhythm so perfect, so them, it was silly and not on beat in the slightest, mostly spinning, it was a spinning song if the album cover was any indication.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

“The lingering question kept me up, Two a.m., who do you love? I wonder till I'm wide awake! Now I'm pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door, I'd open up and you would say, hey! It was enchanting to meet you, all I know is I was enchanted to meet you,” Y/N’s voice softer than ever as she sang her anxieties into his ear, remembering the day at the museum where she wondered if she could have him all to herself.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you

Spinning around in circles she leaves his grasp, dress circling in the wind and he watches her. She takes both his hands and spins around with him in a tight circle before pulling back in, their chests bumping as they laughed, happier than he’s ever been in his entire life, and she’s made him pretty happy in the last few weeks.

The girl of his dreams, dancing around him with a smile like she was making her own music video. This was a dream of hers he didn’t know, making it come true as it became a dream of his own.

He places his hands on her cheeks as he stares into her eyes, “this is me praying that this was the very first page, not where the storyline ends. My thoughts will echo your name until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon, I was enchanted to meet you,” he whisper’s the words, barely singing, more talking.

“Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you,” she sings right back to him, staring into his eyes as they stand still in the garden.

She pulls him into a kiss, breathing in deeply through her nose as they hold each other’s cheeks, unable to get closer as they kissed. Pulling away with a loud smooch sound, smiling before taking her hands in his, once more.

Spinning her around again as the beat drops once more, her smile more beautiful than the first time he saw it. He was so madly in love, he firmly believed he was in heaven.

This night is sparkling, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, blushing all the way home I'll spend forever wondering if you knew!!

This night is flawless, don't you let it go I'm wonderstruck, dancing around all alone I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you!

Please don't be in love with someone else Please don't have somebody waiting on you

“Now go stand in the corner and think about what you did,” Taylor Swift's voice cuts into the beautiful moment as her songs change and the mood drastically changes.

Y/N bursts out in laughter, jumping lightly as she enjoyed the song, head-banging along as she danced by herself until Spencer turned the music off once again, “you’re so cute.”

“Thank you,” she bowed, “this is cute!”

“There’s a picnic basket in the fridge inside, and some wine if you think that’s a good idea?” Pointing towards the main house, she followed him towards the door.

“Oh, hello?” Her voice changed as she noticed the two black cats on the window, letting Spencer head inside for the basket as she talked to them.

“That’s Edgar and Pluto, the groundskeeper found them in the shed in 2012,” Spencer explains as he comes back out, basket in hand but she’s too busy with the cats to notice.

Petting both their faces, they stretch into her reach and bask in the feeling of her nails on their skin, Spencer would agree it felt nice. He loved the feeling of her hands in his hair, he must have been a cat in his last life.

“Amoreena wants her own indoor cat,” Y/N smiled wide at him, “she always wanted to call him Hercules like the Elton John song, almost like she knew you were her dad all along.”

She took his free hand then, following him towards the blanket in the grass, “how?”

“There’s a line in the song about Greek gods, but it says Hercules on her side and Diana in her eyes, and she does have your mom's eyes, right down to the colour of her iris,” Y/N looked at him like he was everything to her.

Spencer couldn’t speak, he just set the basket on the ground and ushered her to sit down beside him. She held the skirt of her dress up so she could sit crisscross applesauce on the blanket, draping her dress over her legs so she didn’t show anything off just yet.

“Every time I look at you I understand all her quirks and her facial expressions,” she added like she was trying to make him cry, “I’ve been looking at her for almost 8 years now, wondering who you were and now I know, and you’re so much better than I ever imagined.”

“Would you have looked for me when she turned 18?” Is all he can ask through his sniffles, trying to hold it together for her.

She nodded, “I was going to tell her soon anyway, she asks a lot of questions I’m not sure if you noticed.” Her giggle was priceless, “she had lots of questions when the goats were born this year and that meant her asking more about making human babies and I just said a special man helped me make my dreams come true, and she thought it was Rumpelstiltskin.”

Spencer couldn’t fight the laugh that erupted from him, leaning forward as he chuckled, making her laugh too. “Does she even know the whole story?”

“She’s only seen the 4th Shrek movie with him, she has no idea that he also takes the babies,” Y/N placed her hand on his knee gently, “If I get pregnant again, I’m going to tell her about how it all works as simply as possible, I want her to feel included in this and she’ll be less jealous if she sees this as a learning opportunity.”

“That’s a good idea,” he agreed, “I still can't believe she almost punched Michael for hugging me.”

“Oh, I can,” Y/N laughed again, “she was being bullied last year by an older kid and I said if someone upsets you or hurts you, sometimes it’s not that bad to hurt them back. Make them know you’re not weak and you care about yourself, and she gave a kid a black eye for tugging on her braid.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, “that’s my girl.”

Y/N opened the picnic basket then, taking everything out with a smile as Spencer stared at her, thinking a million different thoughts about future kids, how Amoreena would grow up, seeing her as a big sister to hopefully many.

They both leaned forward and kissed softly, smiling as they pulled back, “so you like charcuterie?”

She laughed, “Amoreena called it shark coochie once, I can’t not think of that now.”

“How many kids do you want?”

“Have you ever read cheaper by the dozen?” She teased him. “As many as I can have, I have the funds thanks to my job and the farm and not having to pay a mortgage, I was going to have another baby next year anyway, I had an appointment and everything scheduled, I even tried to get them to contact Amoreena’s father for another sample but they said they couldn’t ask you outright for me.”

“They asked me if I wanted to give another sample when I asked if I could know my kids,” Spencer remembered the words exactly, “she said ‘You have four offspring so far, none of the other samples used have produced a child, the women were all IVF as well so it wasn’t your swimmer's fault if you wanted to donate again.’”

“I don’t want to know the truth, are you okay if we let her decide if she wants to find out at 18?” Y/N asked softly, “I’m content thinking you’re her father, I don’t want to know if it’s some other tall who-lookin’ genius, okay?”

“That’s perfect actually,” Spencer agreed, “and on the kids front, you don’t mind me being in my 70s when they all start going to University?”

“My dad is 68 with no signs of stopping, and he’s still fantastic with his grandkids,” Y/N always had a fact to combat his anxiety. “You have a lot of life left in you, I’ll take good care of you so that they have the best dad ever for as long as possible.”

Spencer was so in love with his family he felt like he was floating, laughing and smiling all meal long as they shared facts back and forth about their lives. Getting to know each other more and more as the seconds passed, he imagined it would be like this forever. She was like a bottomless pit of information, facts, stories and secrets. He loved every single one she shared with him.

She poured herself a second small glass of wine, “you know they say that one glass of wine every once in a while is actually good for the baby?”

“It doesn’t work that fast,” he reminded her, more like he reminded himself. He didn’t want to hope in the chance it didn’t happen right away.

“I had a nightmare last night for the first time in a long time, so I think it worked,” she teased him. “I won't know till June 10th, that's when my next period would be.”

“Nightmare?” It was the only part he picked up on, worried for her and wondering why she didn’t wake him up.

She nodded softly, “I found out I was pregnant and you never came home, and I got lost in the forest looking for you and then I remembered I could wake up.”

He rests his hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb against her bare skin softly, “I’m always coming home to you.”

“I know, when I got pregnant with Amoreena I had bad dreams in the first few weeks too, mostly about giving birth to nothing and being alone all over again, the subconscious and pregnancy hormones are mean as fuck when they hang out,” she laughed away the pain, “I know none of it is real.”

“Good,” he whispered, not knowing what really to say, he wasn’t used to soothing other people yet. Most people didn’t want his facts or concernment when something happened, just a hug normally.

She took a deep breath, pushing everything away, “good news, either my anxiety disorder is back in full swing or something’s working in here,” she laid her hand over her stomach, “either way, I’d like to try again tonight?”

He laughed, “we don’t need to make a baby every time you want to have sex?”

She got onto her knees then, crawling over the blanket and sitting right in Spencer's lap with her hands on both of his cheeks, “I want all your babies.”

He held her waist, pulling her in closer to his chest, “right now?”

She nodded, moving her dress out of the way to undo his belt, “no one is here right? It’s not like anyone would know?”

“Mhmm,” he agreed, kissing her neck as she unzipped his pants, moving his underwear out of the way just enough to free his hardening cock, she stroked it right there in the middle of the garden, staring down between their bodies in awe as he came to life.

Sitting up on her knees more, the slit of her dress made it a lot easier for her to show him her underwear. She was wearing just a thong, perfect for pulling to the side as she lowered herself onto him, ever so slowly.

She fixed her dress around them, completely calm and composed as he was fully inside of her, “you’re okay with this?”

He huffed a laugh out of his nose, dropping his forehead to her shoulder so he couldn’t buck into her and ruin the moment she was making, his hands moving to her hips, guiding her back and off him slightly before back down again, making her gasp.

“I thought you wanted to read?” She teased him as she started to ride him more, moving her hips in a way that took him in and out of her at just the right angle, her hands on his shoulders as she bounced on him lightly, he couldn’t even think straight. “Go on, read to me.”

He took a second to remember the words, mind totally somewhere else and not interested in a book at all when her boobs were right in his face.

“I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion,” the first sentence slipped past his lips as she kept going, he took a moment to kiss right under her ear before continuing.

“Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence—whether much that is glorious—whether all that is profound—does not spring from disease of thought—from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.”

“Shit,” she moaned, pushing his hand down towards her clit, “you can multitask, smartie pants.”

His thumb was on a mission then, rubbing small circles against her pleasure point, she tossed her head back with her eyes closed as she continued to ride him, “I don’t hear you reading?”

He moaned softly in her ear at the feeling, and the fact she wanted to get off to hearing him recite something from memory, it was more euphoric than he could have ever imagined.

“They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night. In their gray visions they obtain glimpses of eternity, and thrill, in ah- awakening, fuck,” he was trying his best to stay as composed as she was when he really just wanted to lay her against the blanket and fuck her into next week.

“to find that they have been upon the verge of the great secret,” Y/N whispered the end of the sentence, grinding down on him harder than before.

“In snatches, they learn something of the wisdom which is of good,” she whispered into his ear, biting his earlobe softly with a moan and he kept rubbing her clit, “you’re so good, Spencer, so so good," she paused to enjoy the moment before whispering in his ear once more, "And more of the mere knowledge which is of evil. They penetrate, however, rudderless or compass-less into the vast ocean of the "light ineffable," and again, like the adventures of the Nubian geographer, "agressi sunt mare tenebrarum, quid in eo esset exploraturi.”

Her words softer than ever and they were never going to get to the end of this poem, he'd never know how the rest of the words sound on her tongue, she pulled him into a kiss then, moaning into his mouth as they ground against each other, finding a perfect rhythm to bring them to the end.

“There, yes, fuck,” she whispered against his lips, pushing against him as she arched her back slightly, slipping away from his mouth as she did so.

He slammed into her then as he chased her lips, making her whimper one last time before she was shaking in his lap, her legs quivering as she finished on him, sending him over the edge and stilling as he came with a shudder. He held her so close, both of them breathing into each other's mouths as they came down, kissing and smiling as they stayed connected.

“We’ll name her Eleonora,” Y/N teased, pulling off him and laying back against the blanket.

He made sure her underwear was back in the right spot before covering her with her dress again and sliding himself back into his underwear.

“Amoreena and Eleonora have a good ring to it, we just need 10 more names,” he teased right back.

“Hopefully we have a little boy one day too,” she smiled as she tugged him down beside her, cuddling into her side as they stared up at the newly dark blue sky and the array of stars that decided to join them this evening.

“Even if it’s just Amoreena, I’ve never been happier in my whole life than when I’m with you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

“For what?” She asked, purely to keep hearing his voice.

“Making me want to get up in the morning again, giving me a reason not to buy drugs for something euphoric to happen to me, showing me real love and proof that happiness is possible if you just chose to be happy,” he gave example after example.

“I thought I learned everything the world had to offer, but you’ve been showing me new little life hacks that make the world so much better, I see a future of bright colours and happiness and laughter for the first time ever, so thank you.”

She held him closer, “it’s been a pleasure falling in love with you, together, you deserve to love yourself. You’re so wonderful Spencer, it breaks my heart to know that anyone has ever made you feel the opposite.”

He couldn’t speak anymore, turning to kiss her neck and cheek so he had something to do that wasn’t crying. He loved her so incredibly deeply that he felt like he was an anchor, dropping to the bottom of her deepest ocean, without a single plan to leave.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

[voidstilesplease]

Percabeth Fic List 1/?

For @annalise-elizabeth-jackson. Here's the Percabeth fic list I promised you :) It might be a bit out-dated, though, because I haven't read any Percabeth fic since late 2019. But these are some of my favorites, and I hope you find something that you haven't read yet!

Also, here's a gif of the scene that should've made it to The Lightning Thief movie that I'm inserting for no apparent reason. > <

I Got a Boy by flyingcrowbar (Teen | 136k words | complete)

Tag/s: Crossdressing, Pretend Identity, Homosexuality, Homophobia, Hate Crimes

Summary: Bolt Academy has everything: prestige, affluence, renown. Almost every world leader, CEO, athlete, and have stepped through its doors. Problem is, it’s only for boys. But it’s the only school with the most challenging architecture program in the country. What else is Annabeth Chase supposed to do? Desperate to achieve her dream of becoming an esteemed architect, she cuts off her long curls, binds her chest, and goes by the name of Andy - the newest male student on campus. Now she must travel the dorms, the locker rooms, even the hallways with her secret. It’s smooth sailing, that is until Annabeth’s roommate Percy Jackson - a nationally ranked freestyle swimmer - starts to have feelings for Andy.

Coming to understand his sexual orientation, Percy navigates a campus filled with homophobia and hate crimes, all while every day taking a step closer to competing in the Olympics. Around every corner lies an opportunity for sabotage, and Percy has a target on his back.

But when Percy discovers the secret that Annabeth has been keeping, hard choices must be made and neither are willing to let the other give up on their dreams.

An interpretation of “She’s the Man” and the Korean drama “To the Beautiful You.”

⭐ Vivid by lesbabeths (Gen | 13k words | one-shot)

Tag/s: Soulmates, Color bonding

Summary: Percy is two when he first learns what a 'color' is, and although a whole lot more time passes before he sees one, he gets there eventually, and it's just as amazing as he'd always hoped.

Law of Attraction by greenconverses (Explicit | 2k words | one-shot)

Tag/s: Shameless smut

Summary: Through months of careful experimentation, Annabeth learned that one sure fire way to guarantee getting laid was to be caught wearing Percy's Mets jersey around the apartment.

⭐ if i were to pluck on your heartstrings (Gen | 22k words | one-shot) and its companion fic in Percy's POV would you strum on mine (Not Rated | 22k words | one-shot) by seaweedbraens

Tag/s: Soulmates

Summary: Annabeth thought she was right on track until the universe just decided to give her a red string that just so happened to link to her best friend, forcing her to face her dormant feelings and effectively screwing up her life for good.

Not So Shore by bananannabeth (Gen | 9k words | one-shot)

Tag/s: Outsider POV, Mortal OC POV

Summary: Percy Jackson just transferred to AHS on a swimming scholarship, and Olivia is convinced that there's something weird about him. In order to get to the bottom of it, she decides to befriend him and his girlfriend, Annabeth, and drags her best friend Kelly along for the ride.

⭐ The Curse of Lethe series by shiiki (Mature | 100k | complete)

Tag/s: Memory Loss, Canon-typical Violence

Summary: Percy and Annabeth intended to retire and spend a quiet four years at college in New Rome. However, old enemies have other ideas, and one very determined attack leaves Percy poisoned and fighting for his life and Annabeth facing the difficult decision of giving him the only cure: water from the Lethe...and dealing with the heartbreaking side-effects. There is hope, though, but will Percy, Annabeth, and their friends have the courage to brave Tartarus again to retrieve Percy's memories from the edge of Chaos?

⭐ To Build a Home by bananannabeth (Mature | 9k words | complete)

Tag/s: Major Character Death (but it's worth the pain 😭), Heavy Angst

Summary: Percy Jackson is the worst neighbour Annabeth Chase has ever had. Loud music, lots of friends, skateboarding in the hall - he's everything she doesn't want. So why can she not imagine home without him?

---

He rubbed slow circles on her back and murmured sweet nothings into her hair. “I’m sorry,” he kept saying, over and over. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you apologising to me?” she croaked. “You’re the one who’s -”

“Dying,” he finished for her. “I’m dying, and that’s why I’m sorry.”

Home Run by Millennial_Medusa (Explicit | 9k words | one-shot)

Tag/s: Shameless smut again 🙈

Summary: Percy is the pitcher for their college baseball team, and the sight of him in the uniform is giving Annabeth all kinds of dirty ideas.

⭐ Murkiest Intentions by inkncoffee (Teen | 144k words | complete)

Tag/s: Jurassic World AU (man, I loved this so much), Annabeth is the Park Manager, Percy is the Raptor Trainer

Summary: On Isla Nublar, one wrong move could mean certain death. Park manager Annabeth Chase is certain that adding the raptor paddock with their infuriating new trainer, Percy Jackson, is the epitome of this idea. But they find that here in Jurassic World, the secrets that lie in the shadows just might be more dangerous than the dinosaurs themselves.

If You're Comfortable by Quietnerdgasm (Explicit | 7k words | complete)

Tag/s: Lol, smut. Photography and smut.

Summary: Architecture student Annabeth takes a photography class to practice finding the beauty in things. When her final project requires a human subject she begrudgingly reaches out to an acquaintance.

~•~

[fenheart87]

Lukanette prompts #26 (but Luka says it...)

There was always a feeling of calm when he came home, almost nothing was better than touching down in the Paris airport and feeling the stress from touring fall off with every step from the airplane. It had been longer than Luka had liked to be away from his family and really this time he was early, not that he had told his family just yet. Luckily, Penny was the best and booked him a room where he was able to crash for the night and had options for food places nearby as he was sick of hotel room service.

“If you’re fighting with Ma again, I don't want to hear about it.” He answered the phone, knowing it was his sister on the other line.

“No, just talking about your baby pictures.”

“Oh great, you’re being sappy? Do I want to come home in that case?” Luka teased, not meaning a word of it.

“Blame your nephew, he started it.” He choked on air as he heard shuffling before Rose’s voice came through, indicating she had taken over the phone.

“Luka! We got approved for a baby boy! Captain has been a little weepy but like a good weepy because he has the most adorable face and dark hair but with a slight curl and his eyes gosh! They are like the ocean! He really likes your baby pictures, ah I can't wait for you to meet him!” Rose squealed in excitement, risking Luka’s much needed eardrum.

“Wait, wait, how did you get a whole baby?!” the older exclaimed, putting the phone on speaker in an attempt to save his ears.

“Well, two mommies loved each other very much and decided they wanted to share their love with a very special little baby. The two mommies went to meet the baby but on their way they met another precious child and they knew right away that the little boy with hair as dark a night and eyes like the ocean was destined to become part of their family. And after some time of play dates and special trips around the city, the mommies got to take their new son home.” There was some shuffling as Rose was sniffling and his sister murmuring words of comfort to her.

“I wow, congratulations… Another Couffaine huh?”

“Not quite, we still need to finalize some papers and such. We’re meeting up at Marinette’s parent’s bakery, he loves it there. This will be his first overnight stay so we’re excited but nervous because we want him to feel comfortable.”

“I don't think you have to worry, you both have a lot of love to give and worst case, Uncle Luka can come to the rescue.”

“If you were here yeah, rescue us or him depending. Maybe next time.”

“See you can be sappy! I’ve got to get going but do keep me posted, I’ll read my message even if I don’t respond right away.”

“Sure, stay safe and away from crazy fans.”

“Jules, you know we have a dye party set for when I get back. I’ll be fine.”

"Whatever loser."

So change of plans, Luka would get to see his favorite designing baker sooner rather than later which was fine by him. First he needed to wash off the plane smell and find his plain black hoodie, then he would surprise his girls. Plan in mind, Luka grabbed his shaving kit and started the shower. Shucking off his clothes and tossing them into the bag of dirty laundry he would need to do soon, the guitarist Stepped into the Shower to rinse off with Some body wash. Deciding his hair wasn't in need of a washing, Luka quickly got out and toweled off. 

Luka watched as Marinette played with Llewellyn. The boy looked so happy to be running around the bakery and picking up speed now that he had some sweets to perk him up. It was kind of eerie to look at said child because Llewellyn was similar in looks to a younger Luka, it was definitely that fate had played a huge hand in guiding the boy to his family. The smiles on his sister's faces were definitely worth it and seeing him he hoped would bring an even bigger smile to them. 

"Do you want to color a picture or have more cookies?" Marinette kneeled down to the little boy's height and smiled gently, hoping to ease the sudden anxiety he seemed to be feeling. It really pulled at the guitarist's heartstrings and his body moved to do what needed done before his brain had caught up with it. A soft tune slipped gently from the strings, sneaking by everyone as it blended in the background and caused little shoulders that were scrunched up to slowly relax and fall at ease. Two pairs of blue eyes sought his person but he pretended to not notice as he twined together the gentle melody with the heart songs of those sitting at the table sipping their drinks.

"Luka! You big meanie head!" Rose squealed and carefully tackled her brother in law from behind.

"Hey watch it now, Claire doesn't like the rough treatment."

"Oh hush you! Sneaky little meanie head." The petite blond hugged him even tighter.

"Well since you're here, can I get you anything to eat or drink?" The designer rose from her crouch and turned to the counter, slipping through the gap of the raised counter.

"Ah something warm please and maybe a macaroon or two."

"You got it!" Marinette spun around and reached to grab a mug from the shelf, her shirt sliding to reveal a hint of green and black on her pale skin.

"I uh hey Ma-ma-Marinette uh is that- its okay if I just have a plain cup! I just uh okay please don't punch me too hard but is that a tattoo?! " He could feel his cool factor dying at that moment.

Marinette dropped from her tiptoes to standing normally once more and Luka found he could breathe again as the tattoo went out of sight again. She had always been able to give him a heart attack and the guitarist could already hear the ribbing from his ever lovable sister.

"Oh! Yeah, it was a gift from Nona. You know Nathaniel and Marc’s comic? It’s inspired by Viperion." The petite woman brought over some macaroons and his designated cup with Sabine's special blend. It was like a piece of home and Luka took a large gulp in excitement, "I tend to forget unless I'm in a swimsuit or in the shower."

"Oh Luka!" Rose cried, swatting at Juleka who was laughing and grabbed some napkins to help clean up the tea that her brother had spit everywhere.

"Hey who are you?" The small voice drew the adults attention.

"Well I am called many names but to you, I am Uncle Luka. Juleka is my sister."

“Cap’tin says I look like a little you.”

“Yeah a little bit but just means you were meant to meet us, maybe even be a part of our family if that’s okay with you?” Lka smiled softly, watching the little blue eyes grow wide and a bit sparkly from tears. “What’s your favorite song?” 

“Smoke on the water.”

“Oh good choice! And what’s your name?” Luka started strumming the requested song, twisting the notes and improvising some notes as he watched the kid.

“Llewellyn, I’m this many!” The small boy held up six fingers with a big smile.

“That’s a big number.”

“Not as big as your number though… Why is your hair blue? Can I have green hair? Can I play guitar? How do you play it? Is it heavy? Can you sing too? Are you a rockstar? When I’m big, can I be like you?” The young boy fired off, slightly catching Luka off guard and causing the women to laugh.

“Slow down speed racer, deep breath,” the guitarist inhaled slowly and evenly with Llewellyn and released the breath in the same manner before answering, “now isn't that better? Blue is my favorite color, maybe we can have matching green hair for your party. Playing guitar can be tricky but if you want I can show you how, it can be heavy if you hold it too long but then you build up some muscles and it’s not so bad. I can sing but not as good as your Momma Rose. I’m not a big rockstar but when I grow up more I hope to be. And I’d like that but I doubt Momma Jules would like that too much, I drive her crazy.”

“Are you mean to her?” The small boy frowned, scooting back a few steps warily.

“Nope, just silly and it drives your Ma crazy because it happens a lot.” Luka’s honesty and resuming the plucking of his guitar strings to ease the sudden tension. Sharing a fond look with Juleka that they would later deny, the elder male lifted his guitar and removed the strap completely before sliding to the floor. Waving over the young look-alike, he helped to position the guitar and demonstrated how to strum and play different chords before letting the child noodle on the guitar. Luka picked himself up and finished his slightly cold tea before returning the mug to Marinette.

“He’s so happy Luka! Just look at him!” Rose was sniffling and wiping away tears, the reality that Llewellyn was part of their family finally settling in.

“Yeah he fits right in. So now that you found a mini me, with your attitude and shares a whole name with me, are you going to deny that’s why you picked him?”

“Nothing to deny.” Juleka wiped away a few stray tears from her wife’s face and laced their fingers together. “It was meant to be.”

“Calling dad out here Jules.” Luka quirked a brow, ignoring the snort his words caused.

“Calling B.S. huh? Fine, that’s about ninety percent, the other ten is he looks like he could be your kid if a certain designer were the mom.”

His ears were full of cotton and he missed the squeak of surprise because of course, this was Juleka he was talking about, Marinette was coming up behind him and he froze. The slight curl to Llewellyn’s hair was similar to his if he had it shorter, the blue eyes were lighter than his but the shape reminded him of Marinette’s. And judging by the sly look in his sister’s amber eyes and the giggles from his sister-in-law, they had planned this to drop that bomb at some point. That’s what he gets for having a nosy family.

“Unca Luka! My fingers hurt, how do you play for hours ?” Luka turned around as his nephew, that would take some getting used to, groaned.

“Practice and patience.”

“Sounds like good advice for other things.”

“Practice and patience, two very very useful things when it comes to many things.” Luka tried to smile reassuringly at Marinette who was turning an even deeper shade of red and made his way back to Llewellyn, intent on ignoring his scheming sisters and spending the little bit of time left for the day bonding.

[spice-chan]

Runaway Omega

Katsu’s End .

Bakugo moved toward you in one stride, gulping worriedly as he looked you over.

You breathed out, feeling the pain dull and disappear.

“I’m fine now, but can you two try and not fight for one second ?”

Bakugo looked away and kissed his teeth, glaring at the ground. You hated how you recognized that as him being guilty and acknowledging his wrong.

You turned to Shoto, slightly remorseful at your coming request, but this has to be done in private.

“Sho, could you please let me talk to Bakugo alone?”

Shoto looked between you and Bakugo, his stare hardening as he tried to protest.

“But -“

“Shoto, I have to do this in private please.” You coaxed. He sighed in reluctance, bit gave in and pecked you, staring at Bakugo while he was at it and reveling in his jealousy rolling off in waves.

“Who the fuck is that ?” Bakugo asked. His anger seemed so evident with his clenched jaw and murderous red pools staring at you. He wasn’t shouting, but this was like a volcano, threatening to erupt and destroy everything in it’s wake.

“That’s Sho...my Alpha.” You said.

And erupt it did.

His face starting to show the semblance of his scales as patches of red starting appearing on his skin, his eyes got so black, it was like you were staring Thanatos in the eye.

He stalked towards you, barely able to contain his Alpha, as he urged him to do what he should have done years ago.

He grabbed your chin, tilting your head sideways to bare your neck to him as he leaned down and sniffed it. His growl near your ear was low, yet the barely there sound sent shivers down your spine.

“His stench is all over you.” He growled in distaste. He can smell that bastard all over you, and he was teetering on the edge of giving in to his urges and white, hot anger.

You pulled yourself together, willing yourself not to give in to his charm as you always had, with his tempting caramel scent, daring you to pluck the apple and take a bite. But the sweetness of the forbidden fruit is nothing but ethereal, while sweet, it was never everlasting.

You pushed him away. Stammering out with a flushed face , “ why do you care anyway ? I could have an Alpha, or two if I wish to, lasting time I checked, I wasn’t wanted by you.”

Her biting words brought sadness upon him. He is the reason they are where they are, the reason his Omega had to go through her pregnancy alone, or rather, with that wretched Alpha.

Bakugo cupped the back of your head and brought you into a warm embrace, his arms caging around you.

“Bak-“

“It’s Katsuki ! Always has been and always will be !” He shouted, still keeping you in his caramel and firewood scented embrace.

“I never meant any of it ...God, a few days after I was back at your door, sniffing around for your scent like a starved dog.” He choked at. Your heart clenched at the sight of his tear stained eyes, the vermilion shining like rubies.

“You said what you did Katsuki...I can’t simply believe that you didn’t mean it, there must have been some truth in there.” You explained.

“NO!” He yelled.

He cradled your face in his hands, the face he worshipped for the better part of his life. The one that plagued his dreams, and sometimes even the cruelest of his nightmares.

“I -“ he suddenly got tongue tied, the words he left unspoken when he shouldn’t are at the tip of his tongue. “I love you (y/n), and I’m sorry I didn’t show it, but I’ll be damned if I leave you to some other Alpha, you’re mine, no one can change that.”

It’s not like Bakugo never said the L words to you before, but he kept it at minimum, due to his own biting nature, but also because of the incredibly happy, adorable expression you made every time that made him want to take on the world for. He was a simp for that expression, and he hated weakness. Now all he wanted was to see it again.

Your expression was troubled.

“Katsuki, you said I’m beneath you, so why am I suddenly important to you ? I won’t let you play me like a fiddle and then toss me like I’m worthless when you’re angry.” You said, maintaining your resolve.

Katsuki looked like he was about to protest, when you firmly reminded him.

“Besides, I have an Alpha, who always makes me feel cherished and loved. He’d never tell me I’m beneath him.”

Your words brought a mix of jealousy and self loathing through him. The male gritted his teeth, but even he knew, he had no right to be angry when he said that shit to her.

“Well, you should have talked to me.” He still tried to defend his stance though.

“What was there to say ?”

“Should of said you were leaving, that you didn’t want to be with me, that you were pregnant, fuck, you should have just said something !”

“Bakugo, you made it clear that you didn’t want me to be a part of your life, you don’t need someone distracting you ! You wanted me to leave you the fuck alone, so I did !”

Words that were left unsaid were tumbling out of your mouth, unburdening you with their weight.

“And I didn’t know I was pregnant until I left.”

A silence took over Katsuki, he knew you were right, but he’ll be damned if he lets you go, especially into the arms of another man. He loved you too much, and love was selfish.

He hugged your midsection, where the pup that’s a mixture of the two of you lied. He started purring, the familiar sound stirring up buried feelings.

Your Omega however, still didn’t respond to him.

“Shitty Omega, you think I’m going to let you leave me again ? No, no, no. I can’t let you and our pup leave me, I love you, and I will live our pup too, you just have to see the best in me one more time.”

You turned away, unable to look at his pleading eyes. You didn’t want to betray Shoto like that, but you hates how he pulled at your heartstrings, like a puppeteer, moving the strings how he wishes.

Bakugo refused to leave. He’s stayed, with the excuse of wanting to be there for his pup, which wasn’t entirely an excuse. He always feared how he might be as a father, but he couldn’t hell the joy at imagining a little pul of his own, with you. God, you looked angelic, he could only hope that the pup inherits your looks, so he could always see you in their.

.....

Shoto walked near the ocean, where he first met you, trying to destress.

Wishful thinking.

“SHOTO” a booming voice called out. Shoto looked startled for a second, until that transformed into disdain upon seeing the object of his hatred.

“What are you doing here ?” Shoto asked coldly.

“Shoto, why did you leave ?” Enji asked, not concealing the sorrow in his voice.

“Isn’t it obvious ?”

A silence enveloped them.

Enji swallowed, looking to the ground in remorse, the remorse that Shoto refused to believe his father harbored.

“You left because of me, but please Shoto, you need to come back.” Pleaded Enji.

“And why is that ?”

“Your mother Shoto, she’s very ill, and had been since you left.” Enji confessed, making Shoto’s heart drop.

His ...mother ?

But he got a grip on himself quickly. This could be a foil play to get him back willingly.

Sho scoffed, turning a scornful eye to the esteemed king Enji.

“And I should believe you because ?”

“You don’t have to, but I know you, you will never forgive yourself if your mother dies without seeing you.”

He was right. Shoto loved his mother too much for that.

But Shoto knows, he couldn’t bring you with him on this risky journey. His father might be lying, and he doesn’t want to think about it or imagine it but; he might hurt you.

“I am going to give the throne to either you or one of your brothers, then taking your mother to the West to find a suitable doctor.” Enji said. It was that serious huh ?

Shoto loved you, and could see himself spending the rest of his life with you but, if it puts your life at risk, then Shoto will gladly chose your happiness over his.

You were the companion that eased his loneliness, and he will be forever grateful to you for showing him the light in this darkened world.

.....

“So how did you find me ?” You asked Bakugo as you sat down in the living room with him, eating strawberries.

He smirked at that. If you thought you could hide, you were sourly wrong.

“I sent spies to each village, keeping an eye on any healers that don’t reside in the castle, or anyone that looks like you. You weren’t as discreet as you could have been.” He explained, then added.

“Plus, that women you helped wasn’t secretive, she ratted you out with the promise of money.”

Well damn, that one stung. Is that how she repays you ?

Bakugo took notice of your soured expression.

“That’s why I tell you to be careful, dumbass.” He reprimanded.

“I don’t regret it though, I wasn’t about to let someone die. And a mother at that.” You rebuttled, and he shrugged.

“And thats why you always get in trouble.”

You glared at him, but Bakugo just thought you looked like a kitten trying to growl. He reached out and pinched your cheek.

You were about to swat his hand away, when Shoto walked in the house, walking briskly into the living room.

He walked in, ignoring Bakugo’s growl, and made his way to you.

“Can we talk ?”

At the vague question, you nodded your head.

Bakugo growled to himself even more when he saw the two of you walk inside the bedroom, glaring at the door like it offended his ancestors, then snatching a strawberry and eating it with elongated canines.

.........

“(Y/n), you understand, right ?” Shoto asked worriedly.

You swallowed, then nodded sadly.

“Besides, I can’t be the father the pup deserves, the only father figure I have is potentially a danger to the both of you.”

At that, you nodded more firmly. You were still heart broken, the Alpha you got used to having everyday, the one you were slowly falling for, is leaving. But somehow, you had a feeling you’d be alright. It would be alright.

He had his reasons anyway, you couldn’t think of endangering your pup, and Shoto doesn’t think he is ready to be a father. He said he still loves you, probably always will, but he had a feeling this is for the best.

Shoto kissed you one last time, the sound resounding throughout the room as be deepened it. You could feel many emotions, but the thing you could feel most is the goodbye through the kiss. Maybe that’s why is was so passionate.

You broke it off when the sound of shattering plates echoed.

Shoto rolled his eyes, and gave you a peck and a hug, before walking to the door and stopping.

“(Y/n), do write me letters when you hear good news.” He said, giving you one last heartfelt smile, before turning the doorknob and walking out.

You laid on the bed, with a soured scent as you sighed.

You caressed your belly. Your bundle of joy would surely erase most the pain.

The door opened, and in your peripheral vision, you saw a tuft of blond hair and a scrunched up nose.

“What’s sup, dumbass ?”

Should you tell him ?

He sat down next to you, then took your hand and started purring to calm your nerves. Somehow, it worked.

You turned to him and smiled, reveling in his surprised face, which then erupted in a blush. You allowed yourself a moment of reprieve, and caressed the blush on his cheeks as you used to. The gesture brought butterflies to both parties.

“Well, I was dumped.”

Bakugo growled, ready to stand up and chase after the half n half bastard for several reasons, but he will begin with this.

But you held his arm, preventing him from moving.

“But it’s understandable.” You reasoned.

“But-“

“Katsuki.” You used that final tone that always let him know you were gravely serious.

Before he can attempt to be belligerent again, you halted him with a question.

“Katsuki, do you even want to be a father ? With me no less ?”

The question made a spark of anger go through him. If not you, then who else ?

He glared at you.

“Damn straight dumbass, if not you, then who else ? Don’t think you’re getting out of this.”

This made you laugh, surprising him. The hostility in his expression broke, making him huff and call you a weirdo.

“I can feel the connection between me and them, maybe it’s because a dragon can sense another, or maybe it’s the connection to my pup, but I know for a fact, I love our pup and I couldn’t wish for a better mother.”

The use of collective pronouns made you feel warm inside, like a journey you were set to take with the most joy filled of companions.

And in a few days time, you held Katsuki’s hand as your pup made it’s way to the world.

Katsuki walked in, his eyes drinking the sight of the pup in your arms with awe, it’s like he was falling all over again.

He walked in and sat beside you as you cooed at the little bundle of joy, a tony baby girl, with flaming red eyes that glistened like the finest rubies, and little tufts of (h/c) hair, the hair he always adored and wanted for his kids. You looked at him with a bright smile, one he wouldn’t trade for the world, and beckoned him closer.

Bakugo held the baby girl in his arms, unable to keep the bubble of affection that sprouted in his heart, and gushed out of his eyes as his love overfilled. He gave her a peck on the forehead, then another just to memorise the soft texture of her skin before she grows up before his eyes.

He then walked to the empty space on the bed, then climbed up and put the pup next to you, careful about moving you lest he elicit pain from the procedure you just underwent.

He went to climb out, but paused when his pup held his finger in her hand, toying with it as she swung it left and right in her tiny arms. He couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face as he gazed at her tiny face curiously toying with his finger.

“Aw, she’s so perfect, isn’t she Katsuki ?” You gushed, purring at you baby girl as you caressed her head. Her eyes traveled up to your own hand, then her other hand went and grasped your own finger. She did the same to you as she did Katsuki, then with both of her occupied hands, she brought them together, making your finger touch Katsuki’s own larger one.

You gazed at her mindless actions with awe, both of you unable to take your fingers out of her toying hands and risk losing the contact. Her actions held so much meaning, like she was trying to communicate something despite you knowing it’s not true. Katsuki had a similar thought process. He decided to stop being a pussy and act like the Alpha he is.

“Well, if that’s what the pup wants, I guess you have no choice now.” He said. You looked back at the girl with love, then to Katsuki, and shrugged.

“Guess I have no choice, you’re lucky our baby girl decided to be your wing man.”

Giving Katsuki a chance to prove himself again seemed like the right choice.

Katsuki came closer to you, making you close your eyes as your lips joined in a familiar dance.

The little pup watched her parents curiously, her doe eyes staring at them in obliviousness as she resumed toying with their fingers.

............

And thats it, the end. I decided to publish this on here on a whim, so here we are, tho im gonna get to working on a masterlist in a bit. If you enjoyed this mini series and wish to buy me a coffee, my kofi is T_Spice.

[dapandapod]

A soft plucking of heartstrings

So here I am, 2.30 in the morning, just finished a promptchallange from the fantastic @sleepingreader!  It may have gotten a little longer and a little softer than I intended, but please enjoy!  Here it is on Ao3!

Also, here is my challangers writings and I can’t tell you enough how amazing i find it! 

Soft plucking of strings. Spots of candlelight give the tavern a soft and homey feel. The patrons sit with rapt attention listening to the bard on stage with the cornflower blue eyes.

His eyes are closed, his voice dancing with the notes from the lute, weaving a tale of longing, heartache and lust. Every eye is fixed on him where he sits on the stage, no one can miss the raw emotion making itself known through music. Jaskier is lost. Lost deeply in his memories, in his feelings, in the words falling from his tongue and the soft vibration of the instrument in his arms. He loves this song, but it leaves a bittersweet taste. Especially when Geralt is around, as he is tonight, knowing what the price was. Everything is alright now, but the memory is still there. The pain, that hollow space carved out still makes itself known every now and then. The last tones ring out and Jaskier takes a breath before he opens his eyes and lets them roam over his audience. As soon as his eyes are on them they break into applause, almost as if they were waiting for him to return. He makes a sweeping bow and leaves the stage to sit down with his witcher. His witcher, yes. Geralt came to him after the disaster of a dragonhunt. It took them awhile to find their way with each other again and if Jaskier is perfectly honest he prefers what they have now. It’s fragile and honest and something entirely new for his whitehaired friend. Their friendship has blossomed into actual friendship now, not the push and pull of wills they had before. Now they see each other, and listen like they didn’t do before.

As soon as Jaskier sits down he gets showered in coins and ale. The patrons share their coins and their stories with him, what his song reminds them of, their own heartache, longing and lust. Geralt says nothing, just sips the ale pushed into his hand. The night is young and he is asked to sing another set, so he does. And when they finally retire for the night Jaskier finds his coin purse heavier than it’s been for a long, long time. He counts them out in their shared room, Geralt claiming the bed closer to the door and undresses. It’s entirely unfair of him to expect Jaskier not to sneak a peek as he takes off his shirt. Jaskier absolutely sneaks a peek, because expecting anything else of him would be plain stupid. And of course Geralt notices him staring. “What?” He asks over his shoulder and yup, time to kickstart the brain. “I have decided we stay another night.” Jaskier says, gathering the coins and putting them in the leather purse. “Why would we do that?” Geralt asks as he unlaces his trousers and yes, that's just unfair all over again to expect Jaskier to be able to hold a conversation with this view in front of him. Geralt pulls them down and Jaskier has to look away because Jaskier is many things but he is not cruel to himself. There is only so much he can take. Jaskier is also very good at lying to himself so he watches from the reflection of the small window instead. “Because today I have earned us more than we have gotten in months and it is time I give myself a- uh. Give us a treat. In the morn we shall go shopping!” Geralt snorts and lays down on the mattress. Jaskier swiftly undresses too, but takes a long time to fall asleep. He is mapping out all the stands he wants to visit and the sweets he wants to taste. And wants Geralt to taste! And with that image floating through his mind his eyes close and he drifts off.

When morning comes, Jaskier is almost bouncing with enthusiasm. It’s been a while since he dared spend coin as he will today and still expect to have some left for later. Geralt is slow out the door so he impatiently grabs him by the wrist and drags him along. If he had looked back at the witcher he would see a small smile curve and his finger flex, but he does not look and so it remains a secret. The first stall they visit has, surprise, knives. Geralt stops and admires the handiwork as Jaskier studies the rings next to them. The silver work is expertly done, but not what they had in mind. So Jaskier draws him to the next stand. And the next. They find a woman selling plums, the first of the season. She recognizes him from the tavern, and when they buy a handful of her plums she puts in two apples for them as well. Jaskier gives her the brightest smile and a squeeze of her hand. They find a stall with hair jewelry. Small beads to put into braids, hairclasps, ribbons and leatherstrips worked with fine details. Jaskier sends Geralt to find… something, anything that makes him go away as Jaskier buys two small beads of carved bone with intricate patterns and one of those worked leather straps. He adds a silver comb adorned with swallows for Ciri and folds it all into a piece of cloth. When Geralt returns he already stands two stalls over, a thick man with a thin mustache selling strings and flutes and for some reason, hats made of straw. They didn’t mean to, but a young girl on the street next to a barber shop grabs ahold of them as they pass. “Good sirs, are you not weary from your travels? If you follow me inside my father can offer the best trim of beard and hair this side of the river!” Geralt gives Jaskier a one-over and firmly nods. The bard needs some taking care of, he seems to decide, and they both walk out of there an hour later with hair newly washed and oiled up. Jaskier will never say it out loud, but he longs for the stubble to return to his witcher's face. The girl sees them outside and gives them a satisfied smirk. “Did I not say so, good sirs, that he is the best?” They nod their agreement and hand her one of the apples they were given. When they make it back out to the market Geralt stops by a big stand with tacks and blankets and brushes and many other things Jaskier is not very familiar with, but feels like they are meant for horses. Geralt picks out new reins from soft leather and grease to keep them smooth. He finds a big brush with long strands that looks the perfect amount of firm and soft, if Jaskier is any judge at all. And new saddlebags and, of course, a big bag of treats. Geralt opens his own money pouch to pay but Jaskier smacks his hands away and enjoys the feeling of giving. He likes that feeling, and all the gods know Geralt has seen too little of that in his life. “Jaskier, this is going to sound odd.” Geralt says after a good 30 minutes of ogling at a blacksmith stall. “But can I have the leather pouch for a moment, and can you go look at the bookstore?” Jaskier can only give a crooked smile and oblige, small butterflies making pirouettes in his stomach. And after a while Geralt comes to him, carrying a long wooden casing. Jaskier squints at him suspiciously, but Geralt simply can’t play fair and the smile he shoots him makes Jaskier lose his nerve and look away. It is a frightening thing, looking at someone you treasure so much without a hope of ever being treasured the same way back. To see them smile towards you as if they actually might. Jaskier buys a new notebook, Geralt a pair of new leather gloves. They buy a few jars of cherries and other sweets, and by then the sun is hanging low on the sky. The money pouch is very much lighter but not empty, just as he planned. Geralt walks them out on the fields, past farmers and cows and a cat on a fence, blinking at them with big eyes. Jasker simply cannot walk past the cat, her big eyes and pink nose and tail that is curling, even though cats' tails normally don’t curl. He bends down to pat her, and Geralt stays back. “Oh no, you big oaf, you come here right now and pet this cat.” Jaskier demands of him, but Geralt stays. “Cats don’t like me.” He mutters, and looks away when the cat leans against Jaskier’s legs, purring loudly. The bard reaches for his friend, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer. “This one doesn’t mind, do you my girl?” Jaskier croons at the cat, and she blinks up at him and then at Geralt. She doesn’t hiss, she doesn’t bite, she just purrs and waits. “I uh.. I never touched a cat before.” Geralt admits, at loss at what to do. So Jaskier drags him over and places his hand over his. Together they stroke the cat on the back. Geralt's skin is rough and warm under Jaskiers fingers, and the uncertainty radiates from his friend in waves. Jaskier is only a man, and he is a man with a day filled with treats, so he allows himself another one. With his thumb he strokes Geralt's hand before he releases it and sits back a little. He looks at the cat and then back to this big man, this witcher, this old grumpy lump of muscles he calls his friend and his… everything. He studies the way Geralt's mouth is slightly open in awe, and how the cat blinks at him and how he instinctively blinks back. How his finger lingers on the soft fur, how carefully he scratches behind her ear and under her chin. And then the cat wanders off, leaving them there to look after her. They look at her go, and then they keep walking to where Geralt was leading them.

As it turns out, Geralt was aiming for the riverside. They sit down a bit away from the water's edge by a big tree. The grass is tall and tickles his ankles where his trousers ride up. They sit close together and their shoulders bump every now and then. They listen to the water and to the birds as the day slowly settles into night around them. And then Geralt picks up the wooden casing and puts it in Jaskier’s lap. “I know it’s your money but I saw you looking at it and…” Geralt opens the casing and inside lies a beautiful rapier, inlaid with dandelions along the hilt and the handguard. Jaskiers mouth opens and closes and he reaches out a hand to softly touch the cool metal. “Geralt.” He breathes. “Geralt.” He looks up, looks down, his eyes stinging a little. “You shouldn’t have” He says when words finally return to him. He did admire it when they stood there, and he did miss the weight of a rapier in his hand at times while on the path. “In a way, I didn’t. You did. And I wanted you to have it and you have spent so much on me today so it was time you spent some on yourself.” Geralt says to him, and Jaskier can’t remember the last time his friend used so many words and for the simple reason to… to what, really? He looks up at Geralt, mouth working to find the right words but he can’t. “Thank you.” The smile Geralt gives him could buy the moon. It's soft and warm and only for him. And Geralt picks up one of the jars of sweets and opens it. He picks up a small cherry and holds it to Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier looks at it, and then into Geralt's eyes. He is watching intently and this doesn’t feel like something friends do anymore. But he opens his mouth and takes the cherry, Geralt's fingers brushing against his lips. A small tingling sensation rushes through him, and down his spine and out to his toes. They are still looking at each other, eyes locked, all smiles gone. And as the sun slowly sets, Jaskier leans forward, leans into Geralt's space. Their noses touch when the last rays of sunshine filter through the treetops. Their breaths mingle, eyes fluttering shut and then they share a soft kiss. Barely a brushing of lips. Jaskier leans over the wooden box, pusing it down on the grass to get onto his knees. Geralt's hand curve around his neck and the tingling explodes to fireworks under his skin. They press their lips together again, a taste of sweet cherries and sunshine and birdsong. They kiss again and again. Jaskier will treat himself more often in the future, he thinks as Geralt's arms snake around him to hold him close. Kisses that taste like cherry and pearls to braid into witcher's hair and apples and plums and sunshine. And when the morning comes he makes sure to give Roach a treat too. And when they make their way out on the path again, that pain, that hollow inside him is filled with feelings and hopes he never allowed himself before. As a treat.

[scribbling-stiks]

Heart Strings - I - Visions and Other Things America Doesn’t Like

America sighs.

"Do I seriously have to bring Alaska with me to the World meeting in Russia?" America mumbles, rubbing his face.

Normally, this wouldn't be such a big deal, but the weird emotions swirling in the back of his mind keep distracting him. Intoxicating fear and worry, which had been getting more intense as the days go on, circle around in the back of his mind.

He didn't even know why.

He also gets these strange visions of someone crumbling.

America tries his best to shove the feelings back to think clearly. After all, people like him weren't supposed to have those. He'd always figured he would be able to outlive it, but the strange connection in the back of his mind never left.

'Soulmates.'

America shivers.

Personifications don't have soulmates. At least, they weren't supposed to. If a personification does have a soulmate, the soulmate would be a mortal soul that would perish and leave the country feeling empty or weak. But America has waited decades for this connection, his symptoms, to fade. They never did.

Honestly, America doesn't want to know who he's connected to. He doesn't want anything to do with this soulmate business. He had heard of the 'treatments' given to the countries who had soulmates.

America shakes his head.

'I need to get back to work,' he scolds himself.

"Daddy?"

America sighs and turns around. He sees Alaska standing in the doorway with a nervous look.

"What is it, kiddo?"

"I had a bad dream. Can I sit in here with you?"

"Sure. Just don't make too much noise, okay?"

"Okay! Oh, sorry. Okay."

America smiles good-naturedly and turns back to the paperwork he had to complete for the meeting. He forces himself to read through a few pages of it but soon finds himself rereading the same few sentences, but not processing the words. He groans.

'God d*** it.'

America looks away and hears Alaska fidgeting with something from his desk. He looks up and sees just how upset Alaska had become. His face softens and drops his pen.

"Lask, is there something bothering you kiddo?"

"Uhmmm," Alaska stalls, "not really?"

America gives her a look of disbelief and Alaska huffs.

"Fine, maybe a little thing is bothering me..."

"Well?"

"...you remember how New York got visions of the burning buildings?"

America finds himself looking back, and visions of New York's nervous crying flash in his mind.

He pushes the memories back.

"Yes," America says, and his heart drops, "...why?"

"I've been seeing stuff kinda like that, where it's the same thing again and again and... it's scaring me."

"What do you see?" America questions, struggling to keep his voice steady.

"I don't really know. Mostly, it's us and someone else running through a snowstorm, and it was so cold, but we couldn't stop to warm up because something was chasing us out there," Alaska reluctantly admits, playing with a strand of her hair.

America hums in thought.

'What could that mean?'

'At least it isn't an explosion.'

"Who was with us?" America asks curiously.

"I don't know. But they were trying to help."

America gets lost in thought, completely forgetting about the paperwork sitting behind him on the desk.

'Huh. At least then we'll have an ally. But why are we running through a snowstorm? And who would be chasing us?'

America tries his best to shake off the sinking feeling.

'We don't even know if this is anything more than a reoccurring nightmare,' America reasons.

Still, a nervous feeling plants itself in the pit of his stomach. Though, he can't dwell on it long. His phone begins ringing. America spins around and nearly falls out of his chair. He grabs the desk to steady himself and knocks a few papers over.

America throws open the desk drawers, trying to find his phone before the call went to voicemail.

"Hello?"

"Is this America?" asks a vaguely familiar voice.

'Sounds like the commie.'

"Yeah. This is he. What's up?"

"Hello. This is Russia. I know we have not had much contact," Russia says, talking quickly, "but my father needs help."

'Father? Soviet? Why me? And what's going on? Soviet hasn't had control of anything for a long time.'

"Okay," America replies, "and what does this have to do with me?"

"Please," Russia pleads, "he's crumbling."

America freezes.

"It started when the Soviet Union crumbled but has refused treatment or help. I don't know how you can help, but I don't want him to die. Everyone else has refused."

America didn't expect the news to hit him so hard. a quick intake of breath has his head spinning.

'I thought countries that crumble stick around!'

'He's dying?'

'I don't like him!'

'Why do I care?'

'Russia is pleading with me.'

'I don't want him to die. He was my first real competitor as a superpower. He doesn't deserve to die like that.'

America's hand begins rapidly tapping the wood of the desk.

"What do you need me to do?" America asks seriously.

Russia lets out a weak laugh that plucks at America's heartstrings. America also faintly registers the relief that replaces some of the worry that had grown to invade his own emotions.

"I need you to get the soonest possible plan to the airport designated for the World Meeting incoming flights," Russia says quietly, and America can hear desperate hope in his tone.

"You got it. Is it okay if I bring a munchkin along with me?"

"'Munchkin'?" Russia repeats.

"I'm looking after a kid right now. Can I bring her with me?"

"This is the same extra you asked to bring to the World Meeting?"

"Yes."

"Okay. That is fine. Thank you."

Before America could respond, Russia hangs up the phone. America pulls the phone away from his face and stares skeptically at the device before he shrugs and tosses it down on the bed.

"Get your bag packed kiddo. We're going to Russia a little early."

"Really?!"

"Yes, emergency business. Come on now. Go start packing, okay?"

Alaska nods and rushes out of the room, leaving the door wide open behind her.

-

Next

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Table of Contents

[ezekielbhandarivalleros]

Little Handstrings

Paring: Logan x Colt Kaneko

Summary: Colt teaches Logan how to play the guitar

Second Chapter of Gay Bad Boys Series

Another day, another rain-washed street and a looming grey sky, predicting thunder.

Colt strummed mournfully, absent-mindedly, at his guitar. Normally he didn't mind the rain; the sound of it hammering his window made a nice backing track to his often rather somber music.

Today, however, it was draining him of inspiration, as if every drop of rain was a piece of his head. He couldn't explain it.

He plucked at a single note repetitively, until a voice from the corner of his room piped up.

"God, at least play something."

He'd almost forgotten his friend Logan was even in the room. He had been sat quietly flicking through his dusty assortment of old CDs and cassette tapes, nosing curiously as he did whenever she came over. It seemed the rain was causing him to be irritable as well.

"Sorry." he muttered, not really meaning it.

"What's this?" Logan asked, waving a blank tape at him, whilst inspecting another.

Colt tilted his head, as if that would help him to remember. He recalled that his blank tapes were ones he'd made himself when he was much younger.

"I dunno, give it here," he said taking it from Logan, without waiting for her to reply.

Bluey scowled but said nothing as he put the tape into his CD player and hit play.

A few moments of silence, the fuzzy crackling of ancient technology, and then the mumbling of a young boy.

"... um... I'm Colt. And uh... this is "Her Blues"..."

Logan snorted and covered his mouth when Colt shot him a look, but he blushed furiously when his childhood self began to play his guitar with youthful abandon... and little talent.

"She's gone, gone, gone away

She's gone away

I thought she would be here to stay

But she's gone away-ey-ey!"

Logan could no longer contain himself and toppled backwards in laughter, as little Colt began howling like a wolf. Seventeen-year-old Dom groaned loudly and flicked the stop button, drowning behind the blood that filled his face. Bluey sat up, grinning and wiping tears from her eyes.

"Oh my dear Colty," Logan chuckled. "What in the blue hell was that?"

Colt looked sheepish. "It was an entry for a competition when I was a kid."

"And you wrote it about your father leaving?"

"Yeah," Colt shrugged. "I was upset, who else was I gonna write a song about, huh?"

Logan looked as though he was itching to go into hysterics again.

"Just so you know, I never sent it in." Colt said, relieved now that he hadn't.

Logan smiled, almost sincerely, "Ah, I've heard worse. It was kinda cute anyway."

He looked at Logan and he nodded.

"So you've been playing guitar for a while then?" He asked.

"Pretty much."

"And the singing?" He enquired.

"I don't sing much anymore." He smirked slightly, running his fingers up and down the strings of his guitar. He'd stopped singing aloud since he'd played that tape to his brothers and they'd pounded him for it, calling him "gay". Now he only sang, mostly hummed, to himself, or when no one was in the house.

He looked up at his friend, who was deep in thought.

"Logan?" He mumbled, uncertainly.

"I'm struck by a thought, Waston." He said.

"My God, is that your first one, Holmes?" He replied cheekily.

Logan frowned but there was the slightest hint of a smile on her face. "Very funny." He reached over and took his guitar, then fingered the strings. "I was just thinking you could teach me to play guitar."

"Teach you?" He said, raising an eyebrow. He had never thought of Logan as being interested in music, other than having loud rock songs blaring out of his bedroom window till three in the morning. And he'd heard his singing, it wasn't great.

Logan shrugged, "Sure, why not? You can play, I want to play, and we're both bored. And there's not much we can do together when we're bored." His mouth curled into a demonic grin. "Well, except sex."

Logan was taken aback for a moment and his face turned hot, but Bluey eased up on him. "It was a joke, y'idiot."

He stood up with the guitar and lifted the strap over her head. Colt, being as tall and lanky as he was, had made the strap rather long, and Logan, being a good foot shorter than him, struggled to play the instrument when it dangled near his knees.

Colt rolled his eyes and got up to fix the strap for him, consenting, he decided, to teach her to play a few notes.

"Hold still." He muttered, as Logan continued strumming. The guitar lifted to his hips and she was able to play it more comfortably. He played a slow, often note-perfect rendition of "Highway to Hell", and he sat and listened.

"Where did you learn that?" He asked, mildly surprised.

Logan shrugged and sat down on the bed with him, "I did start learning a couple of years ago, until some little shit broke my guitar when I took it to school." He looked peeved. "You know my dad, he was too stingy to pay for it to be fixed. Then I just forgot about it."

"That wasn't bad." Colt smiled. "Know anything else?"

Logan shook his head; Colt couldn't help noticing that Logan looked like a small child who was trying hard to remember her ABCs. "But you're gonna teach me, right?"

Colt sighed in mock-exhaustion. "I guess." He stood up and circled him, trying to figure out the best way to go about teaching someone else to do something he'd always been adept at. Logan gently fiddled with a tune patiently as Colt pondered.

"I take it you know all the chords, then?" He said finally.

Logan nodded, "Kinda. All I really want... is to know how to play like specific songs."

"Like?"

"Well, whatever. Metallica, HIM, whatever. You pick."

Colt knew what to pick, but he took a moment to look as though he was in deep thought; he knew the song he was going to suggest would make his grimace, but it was perfect.

He moved behind him and put his arms around her shoulders so that his hands hovered above him over the guitar. Bluey raised an eyebrow.

"This how you teach?" He asked, unconvinced.

"Just work with me here," Colt snapped, feigning lack of enthusiasm. "I've never had to 'impart wisdom' before."

"There's a surprise." Logan snorted, but he ignored him.

"I'm gonna teach you a slow song, m'kay? We'll move on to the heavy stuff later."

Logan grunted, disappointed. He looked down at his guitar, barely registering how his fingers twitched near his, or how his breath ruffled her azure hair gently while he showed him the notes.

But Colt noticed everything about him. How soft his pale little hands were when he moved them about; how his tongue peeked out of the corner of her mouth when she was concentrating really hard; how his sank comfortably into his chest, or how his hair smelled of gel.

Deep down his ulterior motives for teaching Logan this way became apparent to him, as he realised that the sight, the sound, the smell and touch of his playing to him one of his favourite songs wouldn't leave him for a while.

He began to feel hot under his clothes, and his mouth dried up, and Logan played on, oblivious to the fact that he was rapidly falling for him.

The way his nose twitched adorably when she scowled at her mistakes...

The way he hummed so out of tune, yet not caring...

The way his hair brushed his neck and left him smelling of him...

Colt jumped back abruptly, knocking him forward onto his knees.

He turned and scowled at him, "The hell?"

"I thought I saw a spider!" He gasped, quickly, knowing he would accept that as he jumped onto his bed.

He glanced around, looking for the culprit and muttering about Colt and his "bloody phobias".

He lay back on the bed, his hands on his face, beads of sweat leaving him dizzy. Surely, it was just a heat of the moment? The romantic song? The close proximity? The fact that he hadn't had a Boyfriend in weeks?

As he forced himself to believe that that must be it, and that he wasn't falling in love with him, there was a little voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he had felt this way before, and perhaps it was happening again.

Logan, meanwhile, had given up her search for the phantom spider and had seated himself on the floor, beginning to play the first few notes of the song.

"Y'know, I think I've pretty much got it now. Listen..."

And Colt listened with a tight knot in his stomach as Logan began to mumble the words he felt himself want to say.

"I don't know why this took so long.

It wasn't hard for me to see.

It wasn't that I didn't notice.

It was just hard to believe."

Colt sat up slowly and watched Logan fumble over the strings, her freckled face contorted in absorption.

"But this is what you did.

What you did to me."

He had no idea what he was thinking, about him, about the lyrics, about how juicy his lips were when she sang, even if she wasn't the greatest songstress.

"You put resin on my heartstrings. You make 'em sing.

You put resin on my heartstrings. You make 'em sing.

And it's about time that I told you everything.

You put resin on my heartstrings. You make 'em sing..."

He moved over to her and put his hand on his to stop his playing, she looked at him, those big blue eyes rolling over his face curiously.

"Was it bad?"

"No." Colt answered quietly. She was watching him with such an unnerved expression that he took his hand off of hers quickly. "I just... I think you've got it, Logan."

He beamed and flexed her fingers in front of his face. "Knew these babies wouldn't let me down. What's next then?"

Colt was standing by the window. The rain had stopped and he was willing it to stay that way. "I think that's enough for today." He muttered.

"Y'reckon?"

He looked at her, his heart aching so feebly at the sight of her pouting that he couldn't bear to look at her anymore. Not until he'd had time to think. He turned back to the window. "I'm pretty tired, you should probably leave."

Logan stood and eyed him. He reached for his shoulder and turned him to look at him, narrowing her eyes at him, inspecting his face. Colt tried to look as nonchalant as he could, but Logan's face softened on him as she noticed how upset he seemed all of a sudden.

"What's wrong dude?" Logan asked softly.

He shrugged her off, frowning slightly, "Nothing."

Logan wasn't convinced, but he felt it was pointless to pry if Colt didn't want to talk to him. He could be moody on his own.

"Fair enough. Same time tomorrow?"

"Maybe." He replied.

He didn't watch Logan leave the room; he could tell he did it in a strop because the door was slammed. But he watched Logan cross the road outside of his house and slouch off in the miserable weather.

Colt was determined he wouldn't know about his feelings, not until he was certain of them at least. After all it was probably just a little crush, nothing too serious.

[lady-vixen-17]

Heart Strings [Dolores x Fem!Reader]

Description: These feelings I have are foreign, and unexplored. These feelings are ones I shouldn’t have for her sake and for mine. But she plays with my heartstrings so painfully, without even knowing. These feelings I have…. They shouldn’t be, I’ve tried so hard to push them aside, so that I can help her confess to the man that I know has her heart. But when she looks at me, and my heartbeat picks up I’m reminded of all the things I can’t have. Because I am me, and I am a girl, and she is in love with another that is a man. But her eyes are like honey and her voice is like silk, and when she smiles at me I forget all the bad, and I just want to forever live in this moment for the time that I can. For these emotions that I feel need to go, but my heart yearns for her… but in this life time and perhaps the next I must watch from the side as she falls into love with another that isn’t me… And I can’t help but feel that life would have been easier had I been born a man.

Master List

Part 1. Part 3.

AO3 Link

Chapter 2 - Burned

She could only wish upon her starts that Dolores would one day speak of her they way she speaks of Mariano. To be looked at with the want she looks at him with. But she is the Luna… and lonely as she is… she’s nothing without her Sol.

“He’s a poet, he writes every night before he goes to sleep, he cares for his mamá…” Dolores silky voice rang though the air, and although she was talking about the very man Y/n envied and despised she would sit. Like a trained puppy, with a smile gracing her lips as she nodded, throwing her own thoughts in when the moment arose. “What about you?”

Y/n tilted her head at the unexpected question, her mind running a marathon as she processed the words. “What do you mean Lolita… what about me?” Dolores smiled, her eyes filling with curiosity and excitement as she dug for the answer she sought. “Do you have your eyes on anyone?”

‘Yes. It’s you’

Y/n shook her head and smiled. “No one at the moment.” Dolores hummed quietly in thought before she smiled and leaned closer to Y/n, unaware of the thumping of the younger girls heart as it worked overtime. “What about Diego? He’s had a thing for you for as long as I can remember” Y/n forced a smile as she looked away and strummed at a few cords without thought. “Diego…. Isn’t really my type Lolita”

Dolores leaned back in her chair in thought before sitting up straight. “What’s you’re type then mi Cuervoita” Y/n stayed silent, her eyes moving to look at Dolores as her mind processed her words. ‘My little raven…. Not just little raven…. But MY little raven…’ Y/n smiled softly as she strummed her guitar to distract her from her own thought’s.

“Curly brown hair…” Dolores nodded and rested her elbows on her knees as she leaned forward. “Eyes like golden honey…” Dolores let out a little squeak as she straightened up impossibly so, eyes wide as she processed the younger girls words. “Their skin is like burning amber, so hot to the touch it feels like it could burn me if I’m not careful” Y/n plucked at the strings of her guitar in a half attempt of a song she distantly remembered Dolores listening to before the fall of Casita. “But it’s oh so wrong” Y/n smiled sadly as she turned her attention to her guitar, before she silenced the strings with an open palm.

A mischievous look crossed Dolores features as she looked into Y/n’s eyes, unaware of the painfully quickening heart rate of her friend as she leaned closer. “Oh so you like my brother!” Y/n was taken aback by this comment and she quickly shook her head. “No no” Dolores shook her head at Y/n’s attempt to deny it. “He’s 15! It’s not that bad!” Y/n reeled back in minor disgust at the encouragement of Dolores.

“never in a million years” Y/n quickly added before she stuck out her tongue in faux disgust. “No offence Lolita, but Camilo? Of all people? You must have gone insane after losing your gift” Dolores waved her had in amusement at Y/n’s light joking and smiled. “Fine… but do you want to know something?” Y/n hummed quietly in acknowledgement as she plucked her strings once more starting up a tune to keep herself grounded.

“Before my Tío Bruno left I asked him for a vision” Y/n nodded at Dolores’ words, leaning forward and silencing the plucked strings with an open palm as she listened intensely at the young Madrigals words. “What did you ask to see?” When she wasn’t answered Y/n leaned back against the wall behind her once more and continued to speak.

“I remember asking Bruno about my Abuelo when he was sick… I wasn’t very happy with the answer… but Bruno in a way did give me more time with him” Y/n’s words trailed off as she hummed quietly at her own thought. “I never did thank him after my initial breakdown of overdramatic sadness and anger… I really was a dramatic child…” Dolores leaned forward and pushed at Y/n’s should in amusement as she laughed quietly.

‘Her laugh is so beautiful… it’s like music… the most wonderful and addictive kind’ Y/n shook her head to rid herself of the thought and she smiled as Dolores continued to speak.

“I bet you were” Dolores hummed quietly before she sat back in her chair once more. “Anyways. I asked him about my love life, as cheesy it is” Dolores rolled one of Y/n’s guitar picks between her fingers. “I wanted to know if I’d ever have a love like my mamá and Papá.” Dolores sighed as she released the pick she had been absentmindedly rolling between her fingers, letting it drop into her palm before she clenched it tightly at the memory of how she felt when Bruno returned with her vision. And the grim look he wore as he hesitated to tell her his discovery.

“He said the man of my dreams was going to be betrothed to another” Y/n’s throat tightened as she replayed Dolores’ words over and over again. It was something she already knew, but hearing it from Dolores herself. Hurt a little more than Y/n thought possible. “Just out of reach…”

Y/n stayed silent a moment before she once more started to pluck at her guitar strings, humming a small tune of the love song that played in her heart every time she was with Dolores. “I’m all to familiar with that feeling.” The conversation fell silent as Dolores processed her friends words. Eyes filled with worry as she reached forward, silencing the guitar for her friend. “You can talk to me Y/n” Y/n shrugged her shoulders and forced a smile. “It’s best I not… so… about Mariano, how do you want to confess. You could serenade him… I know it’s generally done the other way around, but it’s a new day and age why don’t we change things up” Dolores stayed silent, eyes examining the younger girl closely for a moment before she sighed and nodded.

“You have a beautiful voice Lolita, use it”

Y/n pushed herself up from her bed and forced herself to smile. “Mirabel and Isabela offered to help, I can play the guitar and… we can figure something out.” Dolores smiled and nodded as she moved to sit next to Y/n, her sides sitting flush against the younger girls. “You’d really do that for me?”

Y/n nodded. Her hands gripping the neck of her guitar in a desperate attempt to hide the trembling of her fingers. “I’d do anything to see my amiga happy….” Although her smile was forced, Dolores seemed to not catch it. But the excitement that bubbled in Dolores’ chest was one Y/n could read, clear as day.

‘But you see him…. And I hear you… so soon I’ll be nothing but a lonely Luna… desperate for her sols warmth… Solitaria en su cielo de estrellas’

~

Y/n was right, her voice was beautiful, and the look of admiration in Mariano’s eyes was clear as day. But the way he so quickly moved on to Dolores…

Y/n clenched the neck of her guitar as she forced a smile, eyes burning with the wanting to shed her tears. But she held it back, and waved encouragingly as Dolores looked back to her. Eyes shimmering with excitement as Mariano offered her his arm; pulling her closer to his side in the way Y/n has only dreamed of doing.

Y/n forced herself to look away, her heart beating and clenching painfully so as she dared to look back, for only a moment. To see her beloved finally in the arms of the one she loves. The one that makes her happy… the one that isn’t her.

‘I’ll forever tear myself apart to see you happy… forever shine bright mí sol’

So as they walked away… and as Mirabel and Isabela high-fived with the brightest smile she has ever seen; Y/n felt her grip on the ladder faltering. The hand she was so desperately reaching for slowly pulling away, fingers just barely grazing each other before it’s warmth was gone completely. Leaving behind the dull ache of a burn so painful, even Julieta before the fall of casita, wouldn’t be able to heal.

‘Because mí alma… Mi cielito… mí sol….. Soy tu luna. And I can do nothing more but watch from afar as your clouds wrap their loving arms around you. And love you in the ways I only dream I could.’

Y/n turned herself way. Forcing her eyes away from the sickeningly sweet sight before her. “Because mí Sol, I am merely the Luna… chasing a love that could not be” the words burned at her throat as she sighed those words. A practiced pain she would live a million times over for her sol.

To see her happy numbs the pain.

~

“I can’t do this anymore” Y/n sighed, her head held in her hands as she sucked in a breath, her throat felt tight as she thought back on Dolores confession. “Mariano is who she wants, Bruno said it himself… the man of her dreams….” Y/n closed her eyes as the familiar burn of tears clawed at her eyes, begging for escape. “If I was a man…. If I was born a man…. I could have had a chance… if I was a man…” hands tugged harshly at the roots of her hair as she choked in a breath of air.

‘I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up’ Y/n thought as she sighed, a small defeated smile tugging at her lips as the first of many tears fell, and tainted her cheeks in salty trails of saddens and envy. Leaning back on to her closed door she lowered herself to the floor with a soft thump.

“Sana, sana, colita de rana. Si no sanas hoy, sanarás mañana.” Y/n lowered her hands to hug herself as she leaned forward and rested her head on her raised knees. “Heal, heal, little tail of the frog. If you don't heal today, you'll heal tomorrow.” Her right hand moved to rest over her heart as she sucked in a staggered breath of air, eyes closing as she fought back the burning behind her eyes.

“Estoy feo para la foto.” Y/n forced a smile upon her lips as she leaned back, head thumping against the wooden door with a sigh. “I’m ugly for the picture.” Hands pulled at the dress she was wearing and she lifted her left hand to wipe at her eyes. The pressure she used leaving her with blackened vision as she pushed herself to stand, spotting of white coating the edges of her blurred sight.

“If I wasn’t a girl… if I wasn’t a woman…”

Y/n walked to her wardrobe, hands pulling dress after dress and skirt after skirt out before she grabbed a dark maroon skirt out. She turned to her desk and grabbed her drawer pulling it out and emptying the contents aggressively on the table top before she grabbed a pair of scissors out and stared at them. Hands nervously opening and closing the blades with echoing shings of metal on metal.

Hands uncertain and unskilled, cut and folded the cloth of the old dark maroon skirt, pinning the edges for future her to sew together.

Y/n soon found herself rubbing the tops of her fingers at the numbing pricks that littered the tips and she lifted the waist of the set of pants she had sewn. She turned her head to her closet and stepped towards it. Shaking hands grabbing a cream blouse and an old black ruana her abuela had gifted her a few years ago before she had passed of old age. Looking out her opened window a moment Y/n sighed quietly, eyes on the stars a moment before she reached forward and pulled the window shut harshly with a thump.

Turning to her table she stared at the flickering flame of her oil lamp, oranges and yellow dancing oh so dangerously together, licking desperately at the oils to keep itself alive. Such a dangerous dance… but it was so beautiful… looking away Y/n turned the small dial, cutting the oil off from the flame. Orange slowly dimmed to nothingness and the warm hue of orange was devoured by the dark coldness of the night.

~

Dolores’ attention was on Y/n, from the moment she stepped on the Madrigals grounds. Her curiosity peaked as the younger girl refused to look in her direction, and as she did not greet the Madrigal in the manner she had grown accustomed to. But things seemed different, with the way she carried herself, and the way she seemed to drift away from small chat with any of the Madrigals. Shooing away the men as they offered assistance, and moving things that was for the most part left for the men to move.

Her attire was different, completely so, and it wasn’t until Dolores had glanced at Y/n as she sat on a stone, one leg tucked close to the base and the other extended that she realized she wasn’t wearing a skirt like she normally was. But a set of pants, that sat loose fitting and flowing along her legs.

Dolores found her eyes following Y/n’s frame as she danced expertly around the construction, avoiding the chance at being cornered with small talk, specifically by Dolores. And although her gift had long been forgotten, the knowledge she now lacked mocked her as she stared expectedly in the direction of the younger girl. Awaiting the moment Y/n would turn her attention to Dolores, and greet her in the cheery voice and friendly aurora she had grown accustomed too.

Dolores let out a surprised squeak as Pepa called out to her daughter once more. “mi corazón what’s wrong?” Dolores turned her attention to her mamá and she sighed quietly, and she shrugged her shoulders slowly. “I’m not really sure… I feel like I may have upset Y/n…” Pepa nodded and moved a hand to grasp her daughters shoulder.

“Normally by now she’d have said a hello to us…” Dolores nodded at her mamás words and looked back to where Y/n stood, nodding at something Bruno had said to her. He nodded slowly before he pat her head in a reassuring manner.

Y/n smiled softly, muttering something before before she stepped back and turned, her smile dropping as soon as she turned away from Bruno. “Somethings definitely bothering her” Pepa commented, her daughter nodding at her mothers words; Pepa gently urged her forward. “Go ahead mi vida, go talk to your amiga” Dolores looked back to Pepa, her eyes drifting past her and to Félix and Camilo. “You deserve a break, take a break to talk you your amiga, she probably needs it.”

~

“Y/n!”

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head, hands gripping the black ruana she wore in search of comfort and something to ground her thoughts; her eyes closing as she forced herself to keep walking. “Wait up Y/n!” A hand grabbed her shoulder and Y/n unintentionally turned around, subconsciously stepping a half step closer to Dolores’ touch. Dolores’ hand trailed down Y/n’s arm slowly, coming to a stop at her wrist, a few beats before her hand. Oh how Y/n wanted to hold Dolores’ hand in her own. Just once. If only for a moment.

“What’s the rush?”

Her voice is like silk, alluring and captivating, calling for Y/n’s attention where ever she was.

Dolores is like her siren, calling to her, mesmerizing and hypnotizing. And try as she might Y/n feels blind to the possible judgement of others, if only for a moment, as she basks in the warmth of her beloveds velvety smooth skin on her wrist that is reminiscent of a roses petals.

Dolores’ hand tightens on Y/n’s wrist and the younger girl feels herself loosing her inner battle… losing the strength to keep resisting as she makes the mistake of looking up and into those honey coated eyes she’s been oh so wrongfully in love with. “What’s wrong?” The question rings in her ears, deafening all other background noise as her attention focused fully on the second oldest Madrigal grandchild.

“Nothing is wrong Lolita, everything is perfect” the smile Y/n threw the older female didn’t seem to reach her eyes and Y/n found herself being pulled forward roughly. Dolores’ arms wrapped around the younger girl as she tensed, her senses being filled with the Madrigal who held her tightly in her arms.

“Please stop” Y/n’s voice cracked as she closed her eyes. Dolores’ once calming scent was now tainted in a sickeningly sweet smell of honey and lavender; it invaded Y/n’s senses as she screwed her eyes shut, a reminder of what cannot be hers. Y/n clenched her jaw as she turned away. “You’ve hurt me enough…. And I’m afraid I have nothing left to give you….” At Y/n’s words Dolores released the younger girl, eyes wide and scanning in worry as she held Y/n out at arms length.

“What did I do?” The desperation was one Y/n wasn’t prepared for, and it rattled her to her core, threatening to release the floodgates she so desperately held closed.

Y/n sucked in a staggered breath, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around the Madrigal as she smiled painfully in hurt at Dolores’ question. “You did nothing Mi sirenita” at the new name Dolores tilted her head, eyes pooled with worry and concern. “I can fix what I ever I did… I just need to know what I did wrong.” Y/n shook her head as the start of tears burned behind her eyes.

“But mí vida… you weren’t the one who did anything wrong” Dolores’ hands tightened a fraction when the words ‘mí vida’ slipped from the younger girls tongue.

“I can’t help it… I’ve tried night and day to lock it away…” lowering her head Y/n smiled as the first salty tear slid down her face. “But your honey eyes steal my attention whenever you look in my direction.” Holding back the choking sob that strangled her of her air Y/n shook her head.

“Your voice is like a melody, so captivating and addictive.” Dolores slowly pulled her hands from Y/n’s shoulders, the last touch of Dolores’ fingertips sending electrifying shocks of loss through Y/n’s system. “Your touch alone burns my skin as a reminder of these feelings I shouldn’t have” Y/n choked in a breath of air at the loss of Dolores’ comforting warmth.

“But when you smile at me my heart can’t help but yearn for something I can’t ever have” Y/n’s hands clenched at her sides as she shook her head. “Mí Vida…. I would walk all of hells hills to see you happy” a smile pulled at Y/n’s lips as she spoke, her voice trembling in fear and sadness.

“I’d give a million lifetimes away to give you your happy ending… with the man of your dreams, the one who did not see the beauty you held and the the warmth you give from the very day he laid his eyes on you” Y/n’s chest clenched painfully as she forced herself to look up at the young woman before her. And Y/n found her vision blurring at the confusion and shock that laced Dolores’ features.

“I will forever show him who you are, and all the reasons why he should love you.” Y/n raised her hands to clench at the fabric of her ruana, as words kept spilling from her mouth. Words she tried so hard to suppress and drown in her own inner sorrow. “I would fight the devil himself to be able to show you the love you deserve. To be able to be who you want…” resisting the urge to step forward Y/n looked to the ground as tears cascaded down her cheeks, in both frustration and fear. “I want to love you how I know in my heart you deserve to be loved. But I am me… and I am a girl….”

~

There she stands, a smile on her face, one that doesn’t reach her eyes, a beating heart that strains painfully in her chest.

Her sol is happy, wrapped in the arms of her favourite cloud… where she belongs, in perhaps this life and the next. As painful as it is… her sol is happy, she is content. And so she looks on, a lonely Luna, with no warmth of starts to ease the tears at night. No loving cloud to pull her from her despair.

For she is the Luna, and her sol is what makes her shine, her sols warmth is one she’ll chase. In this life and the next, till the ends of time the lonely Luna will chose her sol. While her sol chooses another.

~

So when honey eyes locked with hers she turned away. ‘Because this is for you mí sol. I’d go through the pains of hell to keep you safe and happy’ her legs felt numb as she forced one foot in front of the other. Bringing her away from her Sol, a sigh left her lips as the call of her name rolling off an Angels tongue was swallowed up by the licks of the summers winds.

Because the reminder of her heated amber skin on hers burns her skin in electrifying heat. A reminder that her thoughts are a sin, and being in love with a girl is a punishable offence. But by dios… to see her sols smile she would walk the depths of hell a hundred times over.

“Because when you look at me with those honey eyes… it’s as intoxicating as the day you gave me your wine. Painful as it is I couldn’t tell you why, but my heart beats for you, and your smile, to see you happy and whole…” the tears that fell were not caught, simply falling into the breeze of the day, long forgotten in the heat of summer. How could something so painful be caused by someone as beautiful as her sol?

“And so if it’s poetry that you want, I’d id write it all for you, signed in my blood that my heart beats you, in this life and the next. And I would move heaven and earth for you my dear, just to see you happy, even if it’s with him…” but when burning hands cupped her cheeks, and wiped her tears, through the pain she felt at home. The sinful burn that tingled like electricity under her skin.

“Mí Luna…. So lonely in your stars…”

Because her voice is like silk, and her touch burns like a fire.

But when Y/n looks into her honey eyes, she’s reminded of who she loves. “Dolores Madrigal…. Blow out the candles…. you don’t play with fire” when Dolores shook her head at Y/n’s words, she smiled as she wiped a tear from its trail lovingly. With eyes burning with tears as she tore her gaze away Y/n sighed in deafeat.

‘This is for you mí sol, help me help you…’

“Unless you want to get burned” Y/n continued quietly, shaking her head at her own words as she forced a smile; Hands reaching up so she could hold Dolores’ under her own. “Go back to Mariano… before you’re burned like me”

“I’m already burned mí Luna, so burn with me for we have sinned….” Gentle thumbs ran over her skin, and for the first time in the year she’s know Dolores Madrigal, her touch didn’t burn.

[expresstheobsession]

Tokoyami x Reader ; Reality

I was slightly carried away by this one. I hope you enjoy it! Sorta tempted to do a part 2. Let me know if you’re interested in seeing how it turns out! 

ps thanks for requesting ☽

#117  “Be my fake boyfriend/girlfriend/partner!”

Word Count: 1351 | Warnings: None

You paced back and forth, dreading the conversation you knew your mom would try to have. 

It was summer and that usually meant spending time with family, which is great, but your mom was obsessed with you having a boyfriend. She didn’t want her daughter to end up alone just because your quirk was a little odd. 

So, to counteract this, you told her you did in fact have a boyfriend. You didn’t stop there. No. You made the situation much worse by saying that he was coming to visit this weekend, completely forgetting this is the weekend you planned to go to your parents. 

You knew she would ask you to bring him, saying that he came all that way to spend time with you and it was just rude to leave him at home. She would beg until you eventually gave in.

The phone rang and your heart dropped. You had to tell her that he broke your heart, make up a tragic love story. Unrequited? No, that doesn’t fit. Death? No, too harsh. Better off as friends? Common, but effective. 

“Mom,” You chirped, finally answering the call. 

“I’ve got some good news.” She stated, not giving you a chance to smash her hopes and dreams. “Your father and I have set up the guest room for your friend! I know it hasn't been used in years, but let me tell you it looks great! I finally got rid of the dust bunnies!” 

“Mom.”

“We are just so glad he is coming in on our weekend. It’s a perfect way to meet the boy you have been dating for months!” 

“Wait, Mom.” 

“I’m proud of you, Y/N. You have done so well for yourself and I just know this boy, whoever he is, will make you so happy. I was so worried about you, with that quirk, but look at you. You are amazing, baby, and I’m glad someone finally noticed.” She finished, her voice cracking from emotion. 

How were you supposed to break her heart now?

“He’s great, Mom. I plan on keeping him around for a long time,” you mumbled. You couldn’t do it. You would just have to figure out a way to fix this. You could always try dating apps. People would do anything for a bit of cash, right? 

“What’s his name, dear? You’ve been so secretive about him. I just want a little to prepare with.” She pried a little more. 

Her question sent you into a quick panic that determined how your weekend would go. “Uh, well.” You thought back to all the names you’ve heard recently, somehow coming up blank on one that would actually work. “It’s, uh, Tokoyami!” You called out, seeing him walk by the open doorway. 

Almost instantly your hand came up to cover your mouth. You were too late, both parties heard you loud and clear. 

“Tokoyami? That sounds familiar. Are you sure I haven’t met this boy before?” Your mother questioned. 

Tokoyami stood leaning against the door now, certainly intrigued about your conversation. Truth was, your mother had met Tokoyami. In fact, she’s met him several times while visiting UA. 

“Uh, yeah, about that. Mom, he goes to UA. Uh, I was just nervous to tell you?” The last bit came out like a question.

Your cheeks were a deep crimson now as you glanced up at the boy in question. Tokoyami was silent, as usual, but his eyes told of his curiosity. Could he hear both sides of the conversation? You weren’t sure how good his hearing was, but by the look on his face, he’s heard something. 

“Oh! The Jet-Black Hero!” Your mom called out, proud of herself for remembering. “He’s a sweet young man. You should have told us, Y/N. I would have hugged him a little harder last time we visited!”

You nodded your head before realizing you were still on the phone. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll see you this weekend and you can give all the hugs you want. I gotta go, I love you, bye!” With that you quickly hung up the phone. 

You turned around to face the wall, unsure of how to even approach this topic with Tokoyami. You were embarrassed beyond belief. It also didn’t help that you had a major crush on the boy. 

“Y/N? What was all that about?” His voice was deep, accusatory. 

You took a deep breath, muttering the words under your breath. Tokoyami couldn’t hear you so he asked again. This time you turned around to face him and said it a bit louder. “Be my fake boyfriend!” 

- 

The train ride was a little awkward, mainly because you were still uneasy after begging Tokoyami to tag along. Good news? Tokoyami is a sweetheart and agreed. Bad news? Your crush on Tokoyami was sure to be discovered. 

“So, how long have we been dating?” He asked, leaning back against his seat. 

The question caught you at a bad time and you instantly started to cough on the water you so desperately needed. Tokoyami patted your back, apologizing for causing such dismay. 

“Uh, a few months? I can’t remember when I first told my mom about having a boyfriend. She’s met you a few times since then I’m sure. We’ve been keeping it on the down low if she asks.” You picked at the string attached to your shirt. It’s not that you intentionally meant to be awkward. It was more of the fact that your crush had to be lovey dovey with you all weekend and you were not prepared in the slightest. 

“And how did it happen? I’m sure Mrs. L/N is going to want to know the details.” 

“My plan was to not answer any personal questions and blame it on you being antisocial,” you joked. 

Tokoyami laughed, “Well, that’s an option. If I was going to ask you out, it would be private and significant. Just our thing, ya know?”  His voice trailed off a little at the end, almost like he didn’t mean to tell you that part. 

Once arriving to the station, your nightmare began. 

“Y/N! Tokoyami! Over here!” You mother waved her hands through the air, almost resembling the inflatable man from the car shop up the street. 

The sign she held high and proud read, “prepare to be debriefed.” 

Too bad it was only Friday.

-

By the time Saturday rolled around, Tokoyami spent a lot of time with your father, often leaving on random store trips because your father ‘needed some one-on-one time.’ The thought alone was terrifying, but Tokoyami never complained.

 He held your hand throughout most of the day, not stopping when the two of you were alone. He helped your mother in the garden, plucking the dead leaves and helping her paint flower pots. Tokoyami even spent time with your younger siblings, answering all their questions about Dark Shadow.

Tokoyami wasn’t the best at social interactions, wanting more to isolate himself and stay away, but spending time with you was something he didn’t realize he wanted. Your family took him in and treated him as if he was one of them.

Maybe one day he would could be. 

-

When Sunday came, Tokoyami was determined to make your situation a reality. He was smitten and didn’t want your time together to end. He cherished the train ride home, talking to you about your hopes and dreams. It all matched up, Tokoyami could see the potential. 

“What are your plans for tonight?” Tokoyami asked, playing with the tips of your fingers. The action was pulling at your heartstrings. 

“Nothing really,” you mentioned. The thought of hanging out with Tokoyami after the fiasco this weekend was tempting. The weekend had been sweet, Tokoyami played his part as the doting boyfriend so well that you weren’t sure if it had slipped into realism along the way. 

Tokoyami spent the rest of the ride home planning something special. He had the perfect location, the perfect words to say, and the perfect partner. Tonight he would make you his, for real this time.

[moonboyyuto]

Heartstrings - part 6

You leave the ice cream place and head to your apartment. You’re SO glad you decided to clean your place. While walking back, you notice more things about Yuto. Hes quite tall, and thin. Not that you minded though, you prefer men with a smaller build. 

While walking, he asks: “so are you more a of a morning or night person?” “Oh, definitely night. I love a good sunset and the beautiful night sky.” You tell him. How fitting, as the sun is starting to set. “I feel the same way,” he says. As you’re both taking in the sunset, you feel his hand slightly brush across yours, and he quickly pulls it away. “Y/n I’m so sorry. I..didn’t mean to do that.” You both look at each other and blush.

“Well, here’s my apartment. It’s not much, but its home.” You unlock the door to your apartment. It’s a smaller sized apartment, with all the normal things (living room, bedroom, etc etc). Then, you ask Yuto: “Hey, do you mind if I get changed into something more comfortable before we start gaming?” “Not a problem,” he replies. You go into your bedroom and change into a black t-shirt and a pair of your favorite ripped skinny jeans. You come back out to him looking around your living room. “Hey there nosy, taking a peek around?” You startle him with your statement. “Uh yeah, sorry. Um...y/n...whats that there?” He points at a black soft case sitting against the wall, which holds a guitar inside. “Oh...that? The guitar? I bought that for myself as an impulse buy. I tried teaching myself how to play, but I didn’t get very far. I’m not very good. Why do you ask? Do you play?” He kinda hesitates with his answer. “Um...yes? But no? I’ve been playing for a couple months, I’m not very good though.”

Little does he know that is one of the things that makes you swoon the most. As soon as the word “yes” came out of his mouth, you turn 50 shades of pink and red in the face. “Um that’s...that’s...good,” you barely even manage to blurt out. Without you saying anything about it, it’s obvious to him how much you’d enjoy listening to him play guitar, so he was completely frank with you...but with a deal. “Listen...you pick the game. If I lose, I”ll play guitar for you. If I win, you have to...umm...kiss me. Only if you’re okay with that.” Your face remains red in color. “Um...I...I can agree to that.”

You begin to breathe in and out to calm yourself down to prepare for the game. You pick Mario Kart, as you’re more confident in that than Smash. You let him pick the character, he picks Dry Bones. You chuckle. “Based on how your dressed...I should’ve known.” “Oh shut up...okay maybe that was predictable,” he snickers. You pick your go to, Yoshi. “Should’ve figured,” he said. “Yoshi is cute, just like you.” The sudden compliment makes you blush. He looks at you before you pick which races you wanna do. “Ha. Made you blush again. It’s so cute when you blush.” At this point, he already knows if it’s pointed out, you grow even more red than before. “I’ll get you back.” You said. “I’ll make you blush. Don’t. Test. Me.”

You two play the first race. Yuto wins by a couple seconds. “That was a good race...handsome.” You emphasize the word handsome. As you would guess, hes indeed blushing. “HA. Look who’s blushing NOW.” He just flashes that gorgeous smile, too focused to say anything as he’s preparing for the second race.

Second race. You win. You two start to get in the heat of competition. 

Third race. Bananas are strategically being thrown, and fake boxes perfectly placed. Turtle shells thrown at just the right time. He wins. You guys are so into the game no words are exchanged.

Fourth and final race. If he wins, you have to kiss him. If you win its...a tie? Uh oh. You decide to say something. “Um. You do realize if I win it ends up in a tie right?” “Yeah, guess we’ll have to pick one last race.” He’s too focused to say much. Last race. He’s in 1st, then you’re in 1st. Shells are thrown. You’re both turning corners like pros. Its the 3rd and final lap, finish line in both your reaches. You have a mushroom you kept till the end. You speed ahead and win. It ends in a tie.

“Alright Yuto. I’ll let you pick the tie breaker track,” you say. As hes making a final decision, he goes “hey y/n, what about this on-” before he finishes his sentence, you lay a soft kiss right on his lips. His lips are soft, plump, and still have the taste of vanilla and caramel from the ice cream. You deepen the kiss a bit, and he reciprocates. You break the kiss, both of you smiling after what just happened. “Uh, so I uh, guess we um, don’t need that last race?” He’s completely flustered by your kiss. You see both his ears and cheeks turning pink. “Guess not,” you say. You start to blush too. You never make the first move. You’re shocked at what you just did. “I’m sorry that was so unexpected, but I’ve been wanting to do that since you made the deal,” you tell him. “No, I...really liked that.” His voice grew deeper. Oh how you loved that

“Sorry Yuto, but I have to excuse myself. I gotta go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” “Okay beautiful. I’ll be right here when you get back” he winked after he said that...what’s he have planned?

You run to the bathroom, you had to pee like a racehorse. While in the bathroom, you hear movement. First footsteps, then the sound of something coming off the wall that happened to be against the bathroom, then footsteps again. You start to wash your hands and you hear the sound of a zipper. You realize it when you hear the sound of strings being plucked, which were completely out of tune. You cover your mouth with both hands. OH MY GOD. You take a deep, deep breath and compose yourself. You open the bathroom door, sounds of Yuto tuning the guitar echoing in the apartment. You get to the living room, hands trembling. “Jeez y/n, how long was that sitting there? It’s so out of tune.” He uses an app to tune the guitar, since he’s still a beginner. With the sound of all 6 strings in tune, he takes a deep breath and shakes his hands out. “I’m sorry if I mess up, I’m...really nervous.” He wasn’t lying. Before he plays the first chord, you can see both hands are trembling. “5...6...7...8.” 

Music starts to fill the room. He plays chord after chord flawlessly. He starts to hum while playing, his deep voice sounding like heaven paired with the guitar. You feel like you’re floating on air taking everything in. You start to fan yourself. Just then, he messes up. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” “I’m sorry” “I’m sor-” You grab his face with both hands and kiss him to shut him up. “That was fantastic Yuto. Please don’t be so hard on yourself. Thank you for playing for me. I loved it.”

“Now its your turn” he says.

“HUH?” You say, in shock.

“You heard me.”

He hands the guitar over to you. You immediately get embarrassed. “Just try it!” He exclaims. 

You clumsily play the Em chord, then try to play the D chord, messing up.

“Here, come here.” He motions to come over to him. He sits on the floor, legs spread apart so you can sit in front of him comfortably. He shows you how to play the D chord by placing your fingers in the correct spots. “THAT’S IT!” You smile. Not only because of him being happy that you played the chord correctly, but you’re in disbelief that this moment is actually happening. He shows you how to play a couple other simple chords, and you’re living in pure bliss.

It’s getting late, so he decides to leave for the night.”I uh, really enjoyed spending time with you today y/n. Let’s do this again. Before I leave, I have one question to ask you.”

“What’s that Yuto?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”