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c-liffy · 1 year

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teach me how to love (again)

Princess!Yuna x Soldier!Reader

Notes: Mentions violence | Implied murder| Reader has gone through some stuff | Yuna is a sweetheart | (wc: 3249)

You can vaguely remember your childhood. Some days it felt closer than tomorrow and others it felt like another lifetime. It comes in droves, when your consciousness draws in after a deep sleep, and when you least expect it.

Mostly when you’re reminded of her. Yuna; Princess Yuna.

You never liked the royal family in the past. You were a mere child growing up on the streets, and from what the others had told you, they were the reason you were out here. From what little knowledge you had, you were able to piece together the fact that your father was formally in the army and killed during battle.

But they never gave you anything. Only repossessed your house and belongings once you realized that they would not accept blankets or old clothing in place of taxes. The only thing you had were the clothes on your back and whatever you could steal.

Or, in layman terms; fast legs and a will to live. And, at least in your kingdom, that was enough to survive. While most children grew up learning to read and write, you learned how to steal and fight. Which was good enough.

Until you got caught.

You’d been tucking fruits and vegetables into your satchel throughout the Spring Festival Market and for every time prior you’d been successful. You grasped your hand around an apple and hid it away before feeling another hand grab your shoulder,

“You can’t take that!” A high pitched voice accused, “It’s not yours!” You turned to see a girl about your age with a frown on her face,

“Sure I can,” You shrugged, “I need it more than the shopkeeper will,”

“Why can’t you pay for it?”

“I don’t have any money,”

“Well why can’t you just ask your parents for food?” You raised an eyebrow at her. This girl was either incredibly clueless or dumb. Perhaps both,

“I don’t have any parents,”

“Oh,” She paused for a moment, “Well can I give you some?”

“I would, but I don’t like following people I don’t know,”

“I’m Yuna!” That’s where you’d heard the name before; she was the princess of the kingdom. You eyed her skeptically, suddenly hesitant to answer to someone that you weren’t supposed to like, “I’m Y/N, where do you get your food?”

She paused before answering, “I don’t know. Usually I just ask for it and someone brings it to me. So I guess I’ll ask for something and just bring it to you,”

And that began your long friendship. You used to climb the apple trees that lined the outer wall of the castle and hop into the courtyard. Yuna would bring you something and you’d sit together and eat. Sometimes you would leave together and go on adventures or stay in the courtyard or do nothing at all.

Mostly, you’d sit together behind the flower beds that concealed the two of you and weave the stems together into anything you could.

There were a few times you snuck out into the forest that faded the kingdom into what you thought was the real world.

You would sit and watch the stars together at the edge of the forest and let your eyes wander over the sweeping hills and vast green land,

“Someday,” You’d start, “I’m going out there,”

“Silly,” Yuna would faintly reply, “I’m going to be in there. So you can’t leave,”

You wouldn’t respond. Despite your longing to leave, or even the fact that you could at any time you desired, you never left. You would only go as far as Yuna ever wanted you to. But that was alright with you, as long as she would tuck her head into your neck and mutter sleepily about another world where you two went wherever you so pleased. You liked her stories and her presence enough. So, you stayed.

And, as time would have it, you grew; you and your royalty friend. Soon you were swiping more just apples and carrots. Once you’d figured out, and perhaps with Yuna’s help, what money actually was, you began to steal more than just what you needed.

Necklaces, books, alcohol, and other high value items could be often found hidden away in that same leather satchel that you grew into more and more.

Though, with the more you aged, you seemed to see Yuna less. Your regular nights of sitting together while you quietly munched on whatever she’d decided to surprise you with were becoming more and more sparse. It was increasingly common for you to eat alone, hiding in the same flower beds that you used to be small enough to duck into.

When you did see her, she passed it off as ‘royal duties’ which you believed. From how she described it, being the sole heiress to a throne sounded absolutely exhausting. You found yourself less and less jealous of the children that were forced to attend school.

You still sat with her at the edge of the forest. The only thing that changed there were the stories she told. The first time she ever told of something called ‘love’ you nearly sputtered out laughing. The act of caring for someone unconditionally just because of a way they talk or spoke? That sounded absolutely egregious. Especially having to ‘love’ somebody else.

Yuna looked at you with a curiously horrified glare and you stopped laughing. You’d seen people in the village kiss and hug and go on outings together. It all looked so terribly saccharine that it made you grimace.

She then promptly explained to you that there were many different kinds of love. Like how her parents loved her because she was their daughter.

It was then, you decided, that you loved Yuna.

After that night, even if you ate alone, you’d always take your switchblade and slice an apple blossom from a tree and leave it on the window sill she’d sneak out of. Neither of you mentioned it, but it was always gone by the time you’d come back the following night.

And now you’re back at the same edge of the forest. It’s all just trees at the front, but you can tell it's the same forest. You’ve been dreaming about this for years; being welcomed back to your home, victorious and being accepted with open arms.

But you’re back now, though you’re not quite sure if you’ll be welcome or not.

Before you know it, you’re at the castle again, but at the gates this time. Even though you’re as big as you’ve ever been, the gates have never seemed so large to you,

“Traveler? State your business!” You whirl around on your heels to see a group of guards standing behind you,

“I’m here to visit the,” You catch yourself and take a breath, “The queen. She’s requested my presence,” They seem to look at one another; the guard at the head looks at you, then down to your uniform insignia before nodding curtly,

“Understood, you may pass,” He raises his hand in signal and the doors begin to recede with a disturbing screech. You pass through them and look up at the wooden arch that sags without the support of the gates.

The exterior of the castle looks almost unrecognizable. Usually you’d enter through the side after scaling the wall; the front looks so foreign you wonder if this is the same place you used to spend every night. You continue into the entrance and find yourself inside a grand foyer. The floors are marble and click under your shoes. There’s crowning that goes all around the walls and the wood paneling still looks just as classic as it did when you used to dance around the halls with hushed laughter,

“Y/N,” You raise your head and there she is. She’s older, you can see how she’s aged into a true woman now. And she looks even more radiant than ever. Even through the downcast moonlight that pours into the dark room, she nearly lights up the entire space just from the corridor,

“Yuna,” A smile attempts to etch itself onto your face, though her’s doesn’t crack. She keeps a stoic look over you, one that makes you almost squirm in your spot. This is new; she’s never been cross with you since you’ve met her,

“You’ve been gone,” You nod,

“I have,”

“You never told me,”

“I didn’t”

“You know I’ve been waiting for you since you left,”

“You have?” Your eyebrows knit together as a confused look washes across your face, “I was half expecting a king to be here, or some other little royals. You’ve always talked about having a family,”

“I was waiting for a particular knight to help me with that,” She mutters and you can just barely hear her voice,

“What?”

“I said I’m still upset you left,”

Biting your lip, you silently curse yourself. You should’ve accounted for this; leaving her. You knew then it would hurt her a lot more than it did you. At least you were doing something you’ve yearned for since you knew how to want,

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you or,”

“Yeah! You really should’ve. You know how long I spent here alone? I’ve grown up alone so you can play ‘Warrior of the Woods’?” You frown. You’ve changed too; you’ve matured and grown up,

“But I wasn’t ‘playing’, Yuna. I did real things. I helped entire kingdoms, and I fought against bad people,” She leans against one of the walls and something like concern flickers in her eyes,

“Fought?”

“Yeah, fought,”

“Does that mean you killed people?”

“It does,”

“Innocent people?” You bit your lip. Yuna was a good person; a pure soul at that. She hated violence and used to clasp her hands over her ears and protest loudly whenever you’d bring it up. She wouldn’t like your answer. You can still remember your first kill.

“And you’re sure?” You looked up the Lieutenant,

He nodded, “Go for it, Private,” You smiled at the nickname, but it sunk after a quick moment. Turning back to the clearing you stared at your enemy with an unsure gaze,

“I’m nervous. I don’t want to feel bad about this,”

He reached down and grabbed your hand, “Here’s how I see it,” His free hand began searching for something on his belt, “I’ve got a wife and two kids back at home,” You hear a button popping, “And I’d hate to see them starve just because a private couldn’t take her shot,” He puts something in your grasp, “So, take it,” You look down to see a small dagger placed in your palm.

You take a deep breath at his reassurance. He was there for you always, just like that. In some ways, you could see him as the closest thing you could get to a parent; at least from how Yuna would describe how her parents loved her.

You tighten your grip and steady yourself. He places his hands on your shoulders before pushing them slightly. You rushed the doe with unsteady legs and a shaky slash.

That night, you sat by the fire and stared into the roaring flames with an empty stare. The fire did little to warm the cold feeling that’d set in your heart once you saw the caracas of the doe laying in the clearing,

“Chin up, Private. You look like you’ve been through hell,”

“I just feel bad,” You confess, avoiding eye contact with the Lieutenant

“Don’t, we needed this. Plus, she would’ve been someone else’s dinner no matter what,” He hands you a piece of the meat and you take a small bite.

You held it in your mouth for a second before chewing and letting the flavor sink in. The way you grew up, meat was seldom available. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’ve ever bitten into it. You took another bite and the steaming meat did wonders to quell the numbness in your heart.

The Lieutenant was right, you decided. If you wouldn’t have killed the deer, surely, someone else would have.

“Why would you hurt anyone?” Her countenance was one so akin to another you’d seen under an apple tree so long ago. Though you can’t remember exactly why, it pains you for her expression be directed at you,

“I had to help other people. Innocent people, like our people,”

“My people,” You purse your lips and nod,

“Your people,” You parrot, albeit in a hushed whisper that sounds more of a confession than a confirmation.

And then silence falls again. It’s tense, but not unfamiliar. Your eyes wander over Yuna, grown from a naive and curious princess to an eloquent and resolute queen. You can only wonder what she’s done since you’ve been gone, if the same gang of street kids still hang around and swipe produce from market stands, how your home has changed,

But you know that Yuna has probably moved on, and that your former gang is probably grown up now and off the streets with jobs, and everything has changed.

Afterall, that’s what you did,

“I just don’t understand why you left,” A huffing sigh comes from her, and it sounds more exasperated than anything else,

“Because I had dreams, Yuna. And I accomplished them. And now I’m back here,” You explain, advancing closer to her. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t make any pronounced movements to retreat,

“Was I not one of them?”

You pause, startled, “What?”

“Your dreams; was I not a part of them?”

“You said you had to stay here. Almost everything I wanted was out there,”

“So you chose that over me,”

“Yes, I did. And I don’t know if I regret it,” Her head snaps up to let her eyes train on your face,

“You don’t regret leaving me?” With each word, her composure seems to ebb away,

“I said I didn’t know,” You take in a deep breath in an attempt to stay steady,

“What about us? What about loyalty?” You scowl.

You picked up another fern and let it bobble around your hand,

“You heard about the General retiring?” The Lieutenant looked through the fronds to your face,

“Yeah. Makes sense though, you can only be away from your family for so long. Most other armies are stationary too,” He watched as you began picking the small leaves off of the stem,

“You ever considered leaving?”

“Not really. I can see why he would want to though,” Your mind drifted to a certain princess still locked away in a castle,

“I’m content here. You have a chance elsewhere though,” You lift your head to see his eyes boring into yours, “You’ve been moving up through the ranks pretty fast. Major General was last month?” You nod and he pulls his gaze from yours to look around, “Feels like just yesterday I was teaching you how to hunt as a private just yesterday. This very forest,”

You hadn’t realized it, but he brought you to the clearing where you first killed the doe. You don’t know how you missed it seeing that the image had been displayed at the back of your mind since then,

“Right. Well, it’s been a bit longer than that,” You cleared your throat and adjusted the rank-loop around your sleeve, suddenly feeling tense,

“I’ll be General soon, no more of this Lieutenant business,” His stare shoots back to your face, almost feeling as if he were scanning it, “I’ll be leading,”

“Yes, sir, you will,” You set the stem on the ground and instead buried your hands in the plush grass, “You’ll be at the helm, like you’ve wanted,” Even at your younger age, you could see the sparkle in his eyes when someone recognized his leadership,

“You won’t have an issue with that?”

“I don’t see why I would,”

“You’re Major General, and I’ve heard a few whispers about you outpacing me,” He stepped towards you, eyes never leaving your face,

“I surely haven’t said anything about outranking you,” Your grip tightened on the grass below you,

“You sure? I wouldn’t be surprised if you were sniffin’ around for a higher rank,” You froze at his tone and it nearly knocked the wind out of you,

“No,” You stuttered and widened your eyes, “No, Sir,”

“You lying, girl?” He sneered with a grudging edge to his voice you’d never heard before,

“No! I’m not! I swear I’m not!” You exclaimed, jumping up to wave your arms in protest,

“Oh yeah?” He unclipped his scabbard and clutched the hilt until his knuckles were white, “And how should I know that?”

“What are you saying? You know me; I don’t lie,”

“You’re ambitious, Private. I know that for damn sure. How do I know you aren’t undermining me? Gonna stab me behind my back?” His hand moved to rest around his grip,

“I’m not!”

“Be quiet! It doesn’t matter; one of us is going to become General. It just depends which one of us can get outta here alive,” The following morning, you watched with tears in your eyes as a new Insignia was sewn onto your uniform.

“Loyalty is a double-edged sword, Yuna,” Your cold tone even surprising yourself, “And in this world, you’ll find that one edge is sharper than the other,” You let your hand clutch around the pommel of your sword,

“And love? Whatever happened to that?”

You still never fully understood love. The only people you’ve ever loved were the Lieutenant and Yuna. You thought loving Yuna was like basking in the sun on a spring day, but after your final icy encounter with the Lieutenant, you figure that maybe it’s best to shade yourself from whatever feeling ‘love’ brings,

“Love is,” You start, “It’s,” You pause because even after years in the army where you seemingly surrounded yourself with lifelong friends, you still didn’t know why people felt it.

It was apple picking in the darkest of night. It was trying to label each color that painted the dawn sky. It was actually bringing someone there because it was truly indescribable. It was crying so hard you couldn’t stand because you just couldn’t fathom leaving someone. It was picking a flower blossom every time you saw one. It was sitting around a campfire and telling stories with people you didn’t even know. It was holding someone’s hand while they guided you through something they’ve mastered. It was them helping you master it too. It was leaving your dreams behind because of someone. It was leaving your home behind for someone.

Love was complicated. And you couldn’t put a word on it,

“I don’t know,” You finally said, “It hurts?”

“Why does it hurt?” She melts from her tense posture to look at your with a wondrous look,

“Love hurts, I think,” You state,

“It can,” She nods and then it all clicks for you and you let your hand fall from your sword,

“Love hurts me like it used to hurt you,”

“It does,” You looks up at her through rivulets of tears, you don’t remember when you started crying, and let yourself smile,

“Yuna, I think I want to learn how to love again,” She finally steps forward and wraps her arms around your neck. You take in the sweet scent of her and the breath makes your heart swell,

“I’ll help you; I’ll teach you,”

And you don’t respond. You just let her hold you.

#yuna x reader #yuna itzy #itzy x reader #itzy oneshot #shin yuna #shin yuna x reader #shin yuna itzy #i keep putting the reader through it #oops!#itzy x you #itzy imagines #written

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ofangelsanddevils · 1 year

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Illusion ch 11 Breaking in

After spending a few hours reconnecting with Elodie, they were finally on their way to Scott's house. Elodie had borrowed one of Liana’s black sweatshirts and Liana had put on a black outfit as well. The sun was going down and it would be dark soon. As they drove Liana was grateful for the warm outfit as it was chilly outside, or maybe it was anticipation that was giving her goosebumps.

Elodie was driving her brown Chevy Citation that her parents had given her, so at least they didn’t have to walk. When they were almost there Liana said;

“I think we should park down the block from his house, so that we don’t draw too much attention.” Liana suggested, suddenly feeling worried about what they were about to do.

“Right, because we’ll seem way less suspicious sneaking through the yards to get to his house. I think we should park closer, so that if we have to make a quick get-a-way we’ll be able to.” Elodie replied.

“Okay, I guess you’re right.” Liana said, her stomach was in knots.

Elodie pulled her car up to the house next door to Scott's, and handed the keys to Liana;

“Put these in your purse so I don’t lose them?” Elodie asked.

Liana reached for them and dropped them into her purse.

“K, you wait here, Liana, and I’ll scope it out.”

“But, you don’t even know which room is his.” Liana countered.

“Well, you were here earlier today, and if any of the neighbors were to see you they might recognize you, which is why I should go first.” Elodie nodded her head.

“Oh, alright.” Liana huffed.

Elodie walked off and Liana contemplated about what they were about to do;

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I must be crazy. If we get caught then we’ll be in real trouble. We could go to jail, not to mention the fact that Scott will hate me forever. But of course if he’s working with the demon to destroy me then it won’t matter in the end.” Liana let her thoughts wash over her. She was so lost in her train of thoughts, that when Elodie knocked on the car window, Liana nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Hey, Liana! There’s a tree in the backyard that we can climb, and the window on the second floor looks easy to open.” Elodie explained.

“Alright.” Liana said, unconvinced that it would be that simple.

So, they were in fact going to do the whole breaking and entering after all. Liana quietly got out of the car, remembering to grab her purse at the last second as Elodie's keys were in it. No need to get locked out in case they needed to make a run for it.

They traveled stealthily to the back yard, while Liana pulled the mini flashlight that they’d grabbed at her house out of her pocket. She turned it on as they reached the backyard. There was an old apple tree close to the back of the house with branches that reached up past the top of the roof. Most of the leaves had fallen to the ground, but there were still some that moved with the wind.

“I’m not sure how good I’ll be at tree climbing.” Liana gulped as she stared up into the towering branches over her head. Also, the chilly wind made her shiver a little bit. The flashlight in her hands didn’t do much to light the upper branches of the tree.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ll actually do the climbing, and once I’m in the house I’ll open a door for you.” Elodie said, in her matter-of-fact way.

“Oh, okay, that sounds good.” Liana answered, relieved that she wouldn’t be the one climbing the huge tree. Liana usually ignored her mild fear of heights, but there were times when she couldn’t. Luckily, Elodie would save her from that fear.

“Well, here goes nothing.” Elodie said, as she waded through the thin layer of fall leaves that were scattered underneath the tree. The loud crackling sounds grated on Liana’s ears and made her even more nervous. Liana waved the flashlight around the backyard a few times to make sure that nobody was watching them. Elodie didn’t seem too bothered by the crunching sounds. She grabbed for the lowest branch and swung herself up.

“Are you sure that you’ll be able to see well enough to climb the tree?” Liana wondered, as she watched in awe as Elodie quickly scrambled up the tree towards the window on the second floor of the house.

“Keep shining the flashlight up here so I can see which branches to hold onto.” Elodie grunted, as she moved from limb to limb. Liana moved under the boughs of the tree in order to shine the light up to the branches that Elodie was attempting to climb. As Liana watched her get closer to the window, she could see the branches starting to bend dangerously low under Elodie's weight.

“Be careful, Elodie, the branches are getting thinner, and they might break.” Liana spoke with fear in her voice.

“Don’t be such a worry wart, Liana. I’m fine. These branches will hold me. I’ve climbed trees with thinner branches before.” Elodie continued her ascent.

All Liana could do was bite her lip, and hold the flashlight steady. Elodie crept closer to the window and farther out onto the branches that still seemed far too weak to hold her weight. She'd reached the window ledge. She was trying to open the window when Liana heard a horribly loud cracking sound. Time seemed to slow down as she watched Elodie wobble on the breaking branch. Elodie reached for something to hold onto to keep from falling. She managed to grab the branch below the one she’d been clinging to as she fell.

Liana sighed with relief, and was about to ask her if she was okay, when she heard the next branch start to break as well. Liana felt helpless. The second branch broke, and Liana watched Elodie tumble down through the branches.

Elodie grabbed for other branches but she kept missing them. Liana had to close her eyes as she couldn’t watch the impending tragedy. Elodie was shrieking and Liana waited for the sound of her body to hit the ground.

She didn’t hear Elodie hit. She opened her eyes to see Elodie in Scott’s arms. He was holding her tightly, and she was sobbing into his neck. As Liana watched, Scott glared over the top of her head at Liana with a burning anger in his eyes. His hand was gently stroking Elodie’s tousled hair in an attempt to soothe her.

“Shh. It’s okay! I’ve got you. Let’s go inside and you can sit down and recover from your fall. Can you walk?” Scott asked as he set Elodie down on her feet. Elodie was still shaky, so Scott kept his arm around her as he guided her into the house. Liana trailed behind, feeling worried.

Scott led Elodie into the front room and helped her lie down on the golden tan couch. Liana watched as he gently placed a leopard patterned throw pillow under her head. Then he covered her with a blanket that he'd pulled from the back of a nearby easy chair.

“Liana, why don’t you come into the kitchen and help me out a minute?” Scott said in a crisp manner as he stood up. She followed him reluctantly into the kitchen. He flipped the light on and then proceeded to make some hot tea for Elodie. The kitchen was new, clean and white. It was similar to the kind in infomercials that were trying to sell kitchen gadgets. Liana watched Scott while his back was turned to her. He walked to the sink and filled a shiny red tea kettle with water and placed it on the stove to boil.

He then turned to one of the cupboards in order to find the tea. He was rattling things around, and slamming cupboards. Scott was wearing a dark gray tight fitting sweater that she imagined would only make him feel warmer than the last time she was in his arms.

Liana shook her head for a moment, then decided to own up to her fault; “Scott, I’m sorry…”

“Save it for the moment, I need to make sure Elodie's alright before I deal with you.” He said, cutting her off.

Liana felt like crying. She’d only wanted to find out if Scott was in league with her demon. She hadn’t meant for Elodie to get hurt, or for them to get caught for that matter. The kettle whistled and she watched awkwardly from the corner while Scott finished making Elodie’s tea.

“Will you please get a tray from the cupboard behind you?” He asked, while reaching for a cup from the cupboard next to where he was standing. Liana set her purse down in the middle of the kitchen table, and quickly turned and tried to find the tray. She found it, but a bunch of other trays and cookie sheets came out with it, clanging and banging as they scattered on the marble tiled floor. Scott, annoyed with her, grabbed the tray roughly from her hands, put Elodie’s tea on it, and left the kitchen without saying a word to her.

Liana felt horrible and she was tempted to leave through the kitchen's back door to avoid Scott's wrath. But she didn’t want to abandon Elodie either, especially if Scott was in league with a demon. Liana peeked back into the living room to see how Elodie was recovering. She saw Scott sitting on the couch next to Elodie. Her eyes were closed, and he had his hand on her forehead and he was speaking softly to her. Liana couldn’t hear what was being said.

Liana felt a pang of jealousy spike through her heart. She desperately wanted to switch places with Elodie at that precise moment. She sighed heavily. Her sigh brought Scott's attention back to her for a few brief seconds. He was still angry but then he glanced back down at Elodie and his face immediately softened again.

“Here, I need you to take a drink of this, Elodie. This'll help you feel better.” As he said this, he lifted her head gently and brought the drink to her lips.

Liana felt another stab of envy as she questioned herself internally. “What's wrong with me? My best friend has fallen from a tree because of me, and I’m annoyed at the attention she's getting from Scott. I must be insane!”

Liana went back into the kitchen. The trays and the pans were still scattered on the floor, so Liana knelt down amongst the mess and proceeded to put the baking sheets away.

After a while she could feel Scott's eyes burrowing into her, and she raised her own to meet his.

“Leave the rest of those for now.” He said, in a gruff manner.

Liana stood up, walked over to the table and chose to sit on the far side of the kitchen table, so that the table could be a barrier between them. Scott walked over and put his hands on the aspen table top, causing it to shake slightly and then he stared at her. Liana tried to hold his gaze but she couldn’t.

She let her eyes drop to the table, and she began studying the knot patterns in the wood. “Get on with it.” She sighed.

“Alright then, why exactly were you two lurking in my backyard, and why was Elodie climbing my tree? And don’t bother lying to me! I’ve a pretty good idea what you were up to, but I’d like to hear it from you.” Scott ground out. It was obvious from the sound of his voice that he was furious but he was also trying to control himself.

“If you’ve already made up your mind, then there’s no point in my saying anything, now is there?” Liana threw back with a false bravado that she didn’t feel. She ventured to look up at him. He was extremely irritated, and his eyes were flashing like lightning.

“Well then, I’ll tell you what I think, and you let me know if I’m right or not. You knew that both my aunt and I would be gone this weekend, and so you took advantage of the situation. I think you’re curious about me and maybe that you even have a crush on me.” At this statement Liana tried hard not to blush, but she failed miserably. “So, you and Elodie decided to find out everything you could about me by sneaking into my house and going through my things.” Scott said, while staring coldly down at her.

Liana contemplated her hands in a desperate attempt to avoid his fiery blue eyes. She knew that the guilty emotions parading across her face told him the whole unflattering story.

“That’s what I thought. You know…if you wanted to know something about me you could’ve asked me.” Scott sighed. His anger seemed to be fading.

“Like you’d share with me, you haven’t exactly been that open, you know!” Liana said, anger laced through her voice as a way to avoid the guilt that was washing over her.

“Why do you need to know about me? What difference does it make to you who I am?” He yelled, suddenly angry at her again. Liana cringed behind the table, unable to stop thinking that he could be working with her demon. Scott saw the fear in her eyes, and his tone changed.

“Wait, are you scared of me?” He could tell by the change on her face that there was something to what he was saying. “My God, you’re afraid of me! How's that possible, what did I do to you?”

“I don’t …I’m not…I mean…” Liana couldn’t finish what she was saying. Instead, without thinking, she glanced over to her purse that was sitting on the table within reach of Scott. It still contained the emails that Quinn had given her that implicated Scott, as well as the newspaper clipping that she’d already stolen from his room earlier that day.

He followed her gaze to her purse. “Wait a minute! You were climbing back down from my room, weren’t you? What’d you take?” He said with quick suspicion, as he grabbed her purse. Liana made a move to take it from him but he was too fast. He dumped the purse out onto the table and started searching through its’ contents. Liana tried to grab the crumpled email and news clipping as they skidded across the table, while Scott shuffled through her makeup and accessories.

He noticed that she was after them and he yanked the papers away from her. “What’s this?”

“Give it back! It’s nothing!” Liana said, as she stood up and tried to grab them away from him.

Scott easily kept Liana from getting them back. She finally gave up and sat back down at the table with her head in her hands, waiting for him to read the damning email, and the newspaper article. Positive proof that she’d been spying on him. Liana sat quietly while he read through the papers.

“Where’d you get this email, Liana?”

“Uh…” Liana swallowed, unwilling to tell him about Quinn.

“It doesn’t matter because wherever you got it, it’s false. I don’t know what this is all about.” Scott said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Liana surveyed Scott with relief as he sounded sincere. Maybe he wasn’t out to get her. That’s if he was telling the truth.

“I'm gonna ask you again, where’d you get this ridiculous letter that says I’m out to destroy you? Is this why you broke into my house? And don’t bother denying you were in my room because this article came from my journal. Did you read my journal too? And do you honestly think I would do anything to hurt you?” Scott said, his brow furrowed.

Liana blushed with guilt and let her eyes drop away from him, but Scott wasn’t having any of that. He grabbed her chin gently and made her meet his gaze.

When she did return his gaze, she saw an extreme sadness there. It made her wonder why she’d ever doubted him. He let go of her chin once he had her attention.

“You didn’t answer my question, Liana. Do you think I’d do anything to hurt you?” Scott said, his eyes softening.

“I guess not, at least not like that,” Liana sighed, “although, I don’t know that much about you, and you do seem to have a shady past. Not to mention the fact that the email is damning.” She said, indicating the papers that he still held in his hand.

“I don’t want to talk about the fire right now, it’s not important. What I want to know is, do you trust me?” Scott said, evading her questioning stare.

“Yes, I guess so.” She admitted.

He visibly relaxed. “Then the next question is where’d you get this email?” Liana didn’t want to say. He noticed her hesitation;

“Come on, how can I find out who’s slandering me if I can’t get you to tell me where you got it?”

“Quinn, he said he found it in your locker.” Liana admitted, with a heavy sigh.

“Well, either someone planted it there, or Quinn made it up.” Scott said, in an abrupt manner.

Liana immediately rose to Quinn’s defense; “He would never do that, besides he didn’t know about the demon until last night after the club.”

“Wait, what demon? What’re you talking about? Do you mean that there’s a demon out to get you?” Scott said with genuine surprise.

“Yes.” Liana said, faltering when she realized that maybe now he would think she was truly crazy.

“Why didn’t you tell me that this letter is about real stuff? I thought that it was someone trying to ruin my reputation. No wonder you were terrified of me just now. Tell me all about it. What happened last night, if you don’t mind me asking? Did the demon hurt you?” Scott asked, with concern in his voice.

“You believe me?” Liana said, still not one hundred percent sure that she wanted to believe it herself.

“Of course I do! I don’t know everything, but I do believe that this kind of stuff happens. Please tell me what happened to you.” Scott asked, politely.

She told him the whole story, even the part about snooping in his room.

“Liana, what you did was so wrong on so many levels, but I understand why you did it.” Scott said. "I shouldn't trust you anymore, but I'll overlook it this time."

Because he was so willing to overlook her indiscretion, she didn’t have the nerve to ask him again to explain more about the fire. She figured that he’d eventually tell her later, once she’d earned all of his trust back.

“Well, I’m going to have to see what I can do about this demon thing.” Scott said, with finality.

“Quinn’s helping too, he’s been doing research.” Liana chimed in.

“Yeah, breaking into my locker and pointing the finger of blame at me is super helpful.” He said with sarcasm.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to implicate you. He was distracted by the fact that the demon at the club looked like you, that, and he’s jealous of you.” Liana said, trying to defend Quinn.

“I’m not interested in Quinn’s petty behaviors, as long as he doesn’t cause me any more problems. What I want to know is why the demon resembled me? Are you sure he looked like me?” He asked.

“Yeah, only his eyes were different. In a way it was like a negative image of you, or something like that, I don’t know how to describe it. He was darker, more evil, whereas you don’t seem…or rather you’re not evil.” Liana let what she was saying fade away as she knew it sounded terrible.

He laughed. “I know what you meant to say. Anyway, I think the best course of action in the meantime is for you not to be alone until we can figure out who this demon is, and what he wants from you. Maybe Elodie, myself and, perhaps as much as I hate to say it, Quinn, can follow you around and hopefully prevent the demon from attacking you another time.”

“Wait, you want to be my bodyguards and follow me around everywhere? I’m not sure I like that idea.” Liana said suddenly mad at herself for telling Scott about the attacks, if it meant she would lose her freedom.

“It won’t be that strange, I already have almost every class with you, so I’d be able to keep an eye on you in school without it being too obvious. And then after school Elodie and Quinn can take turns watching over you.” Scott explained.

“No way! You guys are not going to be my personal bodyguards. That’s outrageous! I don’t need someone to watch over me.” Liana was angry, even though she knew that his intentions were good.

“Yes. You need someone to take care of you Liana, you said yourself that you’ve been attacked a few times.” He countered.

“I know, but my guardian angel saved me.” Liana countered.

“That’s all well and good but what if he can’t be there to save you? You almost didn’t make it out of the club.” Scott continued to argue.

“I don’t care!” Liana said.

“You should care!” Elodie chimed in. Liana hadn’t noticed that she’d come into the kitchen. She was still pale, and had the blanket wrapped loosely around her shoulders.

“Are you feeling better now?” Liana asked with concern.

“Nice try, Liana, but you can’t change the subject like that when we’re talking about your safety. This demon means business, and your angel may not be able to protect you every time that the demon attacks you.” Elodie replied.

“I still don’t care.” Liana squared her shoulders in defiance.

“Listen, Liana. You may not like it, but you can’t stop me from protecting you, at least while you’re in class with me.” Scott interjected.

“Yeah, and I can hang around your house. You know that your dad thinks I’m awesome. He’ll let me in, even if you don’t want me around.” Elodie added, with a triumphant grin.

“Fine!” Liana huffed, seething inside.

“Can we go now, Elodie? That’s if you’re feeling better?” Liana said in haste.

“Yeah, I do feel better.” Elodie smiled. She walked up to Scott; "Thanks for being a big strong man to save poor little me." She said flirting heavily. To ignore her, Liana proceeded to gather all of her things that'd been spilled onto the table when Scott had dumped it all out.

Scott ignored Elodie's blatant flirting; “Hold on! We haven’t decided yet who’s going to watch over you for the rest of the night. I’m not sure Elodie is up to the task yet, no offense Elodie.” Elodie nodded her agreement. “I have some things that I need to take care of, so I won’t be able to keep watch until tomorrow.” Scott added.

"Damnit, the watch was already going to start. I don't want my friends to follow me around like I'm a helpless little kid." Liana thought.

Aloud she said; “I’m gonna go to Quinn’s, I need to set him straight on some things, and Elodie can drop me off so there's no need for either of you to be on duty.” She wasn’t making it up, as she actually did need to talk to Quinn. She needed to apologize to him, and she also needed to tell him that Scott wasn’t working with the demon. She needed to fix her friendship with Quinn before it was ruined forever.

“Then it’s settled. We’ll meet again tomorrow to work out a better plan for the future.” Scott said, with a smile on his face. Elodie added at the last moment; "And I think I'll have recovered enough to have a sleepover with you later tonight, Liana!"

“That’s great!” Liana said, as she faked a smile to hide how upsetting this plan was to her.

Liana was glad when Elodie finally drove away from Quinn’s house. Before Liana got out of the car Elodie had promised to be at Liana’s house later, so that she could spend the night and keep an eye on her. Then Liana had waited until Quinn’s mom had opened the door. It was only eight at night, but Quinn’s mom seemed ready to sleep for a century. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back. She was still wearing her work clothes with an apron over it and was holding a wooden spatula in one hand.

Quinn’s mom, Mrs. Robinson, had never been someone for small talk, so it was nice that she stayed true to this behavior and merely said hello. She directed Liana upstairs with a wave of her spatula and went back to the kitchen.

Liana stood at the bottom of the stairs for a moment listening to Quinn’s mom rattling pots and pans in the kitchen. Liana wished that she could be back at her own house preparing for the sleepover that Elodie had foisted on her. But she needed to talk with Quinn, not to mention she needed a break from Elodie and all of her gushing over Scott. The conversation in the car had irritated Liana. Elodie had been her normal happy self, and there'd been no sign of the pale girl that had fallen from the tree. Elodie had gone on and on about Scott, and how solicitous of her he’d been. And what it’d been like to have him taking care of her. Liana’s envy had sprouted in her again like an overgrown weed. By the time they’d gotten to Quinn’s, Liana had felt ready to strangle Elodie.

Liana sighed, at least Quinn didn’t know yet that he had to be a part of the “Liana Protection Squad”. That’s what Elodie had labeled it. Of course, Quinn would find out soon enough though, but before he became obligated to take care of her, she needed to apologize to him.

Mrs. Robinson glanced out of the kitchen and saw Liana still standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Girl, You going to stand there forever?” She asked, her voice kind and lilting. His mom knew all about Liana and Quinn, because despite her lack of desire for small talk, Mrs. Robinson was the kind of mom that listened to her kid's problems without judging. Sometimes, Liana wished for a mother like that, one that would listen and not start throwing out advice like it was going out of style. "Also it would've been nice to have a mom that wasn't missing in action." Liana thought darkly to herself.

Liana started slowly up the stairs, and Quinn's mom went back into the kitchen. Halfway up the steps she was nearly knocked down by Quinn’s two younger brothers, Sammie and Jackie. They were twelve and nine and were constantly creating havoc for Quinn, and all his mom ever did was nod her head and smile whenever anyone complained about them.

Liana smiled to herself. At least they had a mother. Liana had been so preoccupied with her demon troubles that she’d practically forgotten that her own mom was off touring the world. That thought stung her deeply as she found herself standing at the end of the upstairs hall, in front of Quinn’s door. There was a picture of characters from the Batman comics on it and a large "Keep Out" sign. Liana figured the keep out sign was meant for Quinn’s brothers. But she suddenly wanted to abandon the whole project, and let things stay the way they were, and she was about to turn when Quinn opened his bedroom door at that exact moment.

He was a deer caught in headlights, but before Liana could form any sort of an apology, he quickly shut the door in her face without saying a single word. Liana was shocked. She hadn’t realized that she’d hurt him so badly. She thought that he would at least be able to talk to her, that he wouldn’t still be so angry at her. Apparently, he was beyond furious. Liana wasn’t sure how long she stood there feeling stunned before she came to herself. She turned to leave. She was at the top of the stairs when he opened his door again.

“Hey, Liana! Where’re you going?” Quinn hollered.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” She choked as the tears started to trickle out of her eyes despite her desperate attempts to hold them back.

Liana still hadn’t turned back towards him and she was wondering how to discreetly wipe the tears from her eyes without him noticing. But before she could make a plan on how to do that, he’d come down the hall, grabbed her hand and pulled her into his room.

“Why would you think that, silly? No matter how angry I get, I’m still your friend.” Quinn said. It was then that he noticed her wet eyes and red nose.

“Why’re you crying? Are you okay?” Quinn asked with deep concern.

Liana stared at the "S" logo on his Superman t-shirt that he was wearing, as she couldn’t meet his eyes.

“When you closed the door again so quickly, I thought you couldn’t even stand to be near me. I thought…” She couldn’t finish as she was overwhelmed by a flood of hot tears.

“Oh, Liana, I’m sorry, the truth is my room was way too messy to let you in right then.” Quinn said, as he softly put his hand up to wipe her tears away. His cool touch on her hot wet cheek felt good. He contemplated her for a moment as his fingertips continued to stroke her face, then he pulled Liana in for a hug. It felt amazing to her, and she realized how extremely lonely she was every time her defenses were lowered.

She glanced around Quinn’s room trying to think about anything else besides the fact that they were so close together. There were comic books in a stack in the corner. And the Batman bedding was only halfway straightened on his full-sized bed.

Liana was unable to fully distract herself. She breathed a sigh of contentment and molded herself to Quinn, who embraced her with a similar frantic motion. Before she realized it, his soft mouth had found hers and they were kissing. His kiss was kind with a hint of something she didn’t recognize. It distracted her for a moment, even as their lips continued to speak to each other. She tried to identify it. Was it bitterness, hurt, hate? No, it wasn’t any of those feelings, but she didn’t recognize it. Perhaps it was simply her own guilt, and remorse that she tasted. She’d done a lot to hurt Quinn lately. She did care about Quinn. She didn’t want to be the cause of so much hurt. She needed him, probably more than he would ever know, but she loved Scott.

Upon remembrance of Scott, she nearly pulled away from Quinn violently. Yet she stopped herself in time when she realized that that kind of rejection would surely hurt Quinn again. Instead, she slowly extricated herself from Quinn’s clinging embrace. She couldn’t help but make the passing observation in her mind, that even though she was in love with Scott, she’d been just as desperate to touch him as Quinn had been to touch her.

“Thanks for that. I needed it.” Liana said, trying to pass it off as less serious than it'd been.

“You’re welcome, anytime!” Quinn said, as he tried to pull her in again.

“I need to talk to you for a minute.” Liana replied, as she gently lowered his arms to his sides.

“Oh, sure.” Quinn answered, as a tiny shadow of defensiveness crossed his eyes.

“No matter what I do, I hurt people.” Liana thought bitterly to herself.

Quinn motioned for her to sit on the haphazardly made bed and he pulled out the chair from his desk and sat down in a backwards straddle, so that he could lean his arms on the backrest.

Liana sat down on the bedspread. Liana’s eyes focused on one of the pictures of the Batmobile that was on Quinn’s blanket for a few moments, as she tried to distract herself from the task at hand.

“What’d you want to tell me, Liana?” Quinn said as he eyed her lips with longing. Liana knew he was remembering their kiss of only a few moments ago. Self-conscious heat flushed her face, and she stammered for a moment before remembering the things she’d wanted to tell him.

“Okay, first of all, I’m sorry that I got mad at you in front of my house when you gave me the email. But I’ve got good news about that. I did read it, and then Elodie and I went over to Scott’s house to break into his room. Then…”

“Hold on! You went over there by yourselves?” Quinn interrupted. “Are you completely nuts? What if you’d been caught? He could’ve hurt you. What were you thinking?”

“Stop worrying Quinn! Scott’s not out to get me. He’s not working with the demon in order to destroy me.” Liana explained, as patiently as she could.

“What do you mean?” Quinn's face was surprised and angry. At least Liana thought he was angry, but she wasn’t good at reading Quinn’s emotions lately. “I should think that the email was pretty clear actually.” Quinn challenged. He was definitely angry. Liana decided that this wasn’t going to be easy after all.

“Will you please listen without interrupting for a few minutes?” Liana begged him politely.

“Fine, but when you’re done, I have something to say to you.” Quinn replied.

“Deal!” Liana agreed, hoping that what he had to say wouldn’t be terrible, like that he was sick of her and never wanted to see her again.

“Scott's concerned about the fact that I’ve been attacked several times, and he proposed that you and he, as well as Elodie become my bodyguards. I’m not too happy about it, but it might be a good idea after all. I’m still not sure how I feel about the idea of being constantly watched by all of you, but I suppose I’ll have to live with it. Anyway, as far as the email is concerned, he says that it was planted in his locker and that it’s not his. It was probably slipped in through the note slot or something.” Liana suggested, trying to be helpful.

At this, Quinn exploded from his chair nearly knocking it over in the process. “The hell it was! You should’ve seen where I found it in his locker. It was carefully folded and placed between some books on the top shelf. There’s no way it was randomly slipped in. Besides, I don’t see why you’re willing to take his word that it’s not his. He could be lying, you know! You don’t even know him. Why’re you going to trust him to keep an eye on you? I don’t think that he should be allowed to be part of this. That would give him too much opportunity to do something to you as soon as no one else is watching.” Quinn concluded.

“Relax, Quinn. He’s going to hang around me at school to make sure nothing happens there. He already has a lot of the same classes as I do. It’s not like I’ll ever be alone with him during the day. There’s something called a student body, or have you forgotten about everyone else in the entire school? I’d rarely, if ever be alone with him, so you can stop worrying. Besides, had he wanted to attack me, he would’ve already taken the opportunity when I was showing him the town the other day.” Liana countered, her voice defensive.

“That’s because he wants you to trust him, so that he can take advantage of you.” Quinn said, almost leering.

“Why do you have to be so crude? You don’t know anything about his motivations. You’re envious of him, and the fact that I like him. You would rather I spent my time, and attention on you.” Liana said, meanness in her tone.

Quinn sighed. “You know how I feel about you. I don’t want to argue with you. I wish you'd give me a chance instead of falling for some random stranger who means you no good.”

Liana watched Quinn as he brushed a black dreadlock out of his eyes. She felt bad for him. She couldn’t help it. She understood what he was going through. She was in a similar situation, after all, Liana was in love with someone who would probably never love her back.

“Quinn, I don’t want to fight with you. More than anything else I came over to apologize to you for my behavior towards you over the last few days. I shouldn't have kissed you in the first place. It was wrong of me. And then, I wasn’t kind to you afterwards. I felt so guilty about the Elodie thing.”

“So…are you basically taking back all the kisses?” Quinn wondered, while fidgeting with his fingers. He hadn’t sat back down and he was standing near Liana, watching her in a rather forlorn manner.

“No. Well, yes actually, but not in the way you think. I care about you Quinn. It’s…”

“Let me guess, you’re in love with someone else, and you want to be friends, blah, blah, blah! I don't want to hear anymore about him. I don’t care how wonderful you think he is. He’s no good for you, but that’s beside the point. I told you last night that I’ll always be your friend and I meant it. I don’t have to agree with some of your choices and we’ll leave it at that.” Quinn sighed, while shaking his head at her.

For a moment, she wasn’t sure what to think based on what he'd said, then she noticed the smile spreading on his face.

“Okay, so we’re cool then?” Liana asked.

“Of course, but just so we’re clear, I’m not going to stop trying to protect you. And if it turns out that he’s the bad guy, then I’ll make him pay.” Quinn said, with a dangerous gleam in his dark brown eyes.

Liana didn’t know how to respond to that, so she simply nodded her head and hoped that Quinn would never have to make good on his word. Liana changed the subject to something much less disconcerting.

“Are you going to be cool with being one of my bodyguards?” Liana asked.

Quinn’s smile became full of warmth once again; “Of course! For you, anything!”

“Well, it’s getting rather late, do you think you would mind driving me home?”

“With pleasure, my lady!” Quinn said as he performed a flourishing bow.

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polonium-snap · 3 years

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The Beauty & the Deku chp. 2

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki somehow get trapped in a book of fairy tales, to get out of it they decide to play their part in the stories. How far are they willing to go to fulfill the romantic plotlines? Will Katsuki be able to play the role of a fairy tale princess?

ao3

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When Katsuki comes to, he is washing some stairs.”Wha-? This again? You’ve got to be forking kidding me.” He stood up, inspecting his clothes, some raggedy top, and pants, which at least is not a dress, and went to a nearby well, staring at his reflection on the water, scowling.

“Kacchan?” He heard Deku’s voice from behind, and the blonde turned to him.

“Deku!” Katsuki said. “As you can see, we are still trapped in this nightmare.” He frowns. “What do we do now?”

“Let’s continue trying to go along with the story, maybe if we do it enough times, we’ll get out of here.” Izuku suggested.

Katsuki growled. “Shut up! What do you know? This is probably your fault since you didn’t have to be at the house in the end.”

Deku frowned. “Oh yeah, Cinderella totally broke through a door like you did.”

The blonde scowled back, blustering and turning to look away from Izuku. “Whatever.”

Which was Kacchan-speak for ‘I’m sorry, you’re right', good thing Deku was an expert at reading his childhood friend. “We should continue trying to go along with the story, this time as much as we can with the original.”

“No way, nerd. I already gave that a try and we are still trapped in this hellhole.” Katsuki argued. “It makes more sense to try and make the story different, if it doesn’t let us move on we can find the reason more easily.”

“What if that just makes us be stuck here forever, Kacchan?” Izuku argued back. “Let’s do it like the story says one more time, then if we are still here we’ll try your thing.”

The blonde frowned but sighed. “Fine.”

Izuku let out the breath he was holding and stared into red eyes. “Thank you.”

Silence hung heavy for a second between them for several seconds. “I’m sorry…” Bakugou mutters, surprising Deku. “You know, for kissing you at the end…”

Izuku blushed furiously. “Oh! Uhm, i-i-it’s ok Kacchan, that actually made us move on, so…”

The implication of the previous statement weighs on them, and the silence only makes heat rise faster and more intensely into Deku’s face. If the kiss was what made them move on, did that mean they would have to again until they were out of there?

The most obvious answer was there, if they were in Snow White, like Izuku suspected, that meant they had to kiss to be able to continue with the story.

“Wh-What story are we in anyway?” Katsuki asked if only to fill the silence.

“O-oh, I think we are in Snow White.” Izuku reasoned.

“How are we meeting so early then, isn’t the prince supposed to kiss snow white at the end?” The blonde tried to remember.

“No, I think they met right at the start of the Disney movie.” Izuku explained.

“Crap I can’t remember.” The taller teen rubbed his hand on his face. “How am I going to go along with the story if I can't remember how it goes?”

The green-haired boy bit his lip, he couldn’t blame Kacchan, apart from this being a stressful situation, it has been a long time since either of them either saw the movies or read any books with fairy tales on them. “I think I know how it goes, just make sure to go near the forest and run away from the huntsman and look for a small house, it belongs to some dwarfs.” He explains. “Make sure they let you stay, cook and clean for them or something, the evil queen will look for you, to kill you, she will give you an apple, bite it, I’ll take care of the rest and then we’ll ride off to the sunset.”

“My prince.” Katsuki said sarcastically, and Izuku glared, but his cheeks felt hot. “I got it, I got it, I’m just tired of cleaning stuff, like I knew old men hate women in these stories and think their only use is to cook and clean, I get it, old news, but it’s annoying as heck, you know?”

“I get it Kacchan, I’m sorry, but I really think that we can get out if we follow the script as much as we can.”

“Yeah, except we can barely remember how it goes, you lame nerd, even just talking like this can change the story.” The fiery teen started to raise his tone. “We’re already doomed.”

Izuku cringed. “You’re right, but there must be plot points that make us move on, you know like in Cinderella, the background repeated until we did what it wanted, to move on we need to keep doing just that.” He tried to placate the other man. “This is the best plan we have right now, just go with it until we can think of something better.”

Katsuki stands staring at the other teen for a few seconds, glaring, but pondering what was said all the same. “Fine, but we better get out of this, or I’m going to explode.” He turned away and started walking toward the palace. “See you later, nerd, don’t you dare die.” He closed the doors, leaving Izuku staring.

The wardrobes the stories were putting the blonde in were killing him, he looked so handsome, even in dresses. Now the blonde wasn’t exactly wearing a dress, but elements of it were clearly borrowed, Kacchan was in rags but still looked amazing.

Izuku shook his head, this was not the time to be fawning over Kacchan, he turned around and left the grounds of the palace, unsure of what to do with himself. Jesus, fairy tale princes really were useless and had one shitty line, like Kacchan had said, though maybe like this, he could look for clues.

He looked down and sighed, even his clothes were boring.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Katsuki changes his clothes because he is not staying in some ugly rags, besides he is 70% sure Snow White wasn’t dressed so badly, she needs to be marketable, little kids wouldn't buy merch of her if she looked ugly right?

He went near the forest, as Deku had said, and sat on a rock, at least the scenery was always interesting in these stories, as Katsuki had never gone out of Japan, he could almost pretend he was visiting Europe or some shit.

“I’m sorry, princess.” Said a voice, which startled the fuck out of the blonde.

“Jesus fu-!” Katsuki turned around to find Rikido Sato, from his class. “Sato?! You are the huntsman?”

The other man’s eyes widened. “You know my name?!” His eyes watered. “The queen has never called me by my name.”

Katsuki hadn’t either until just then, but he wasn’t about to say that to a man with a weapon while he remained quirkless. “Yes, of course I know your name!” He lied, he was lucky with Sato’s last name, he was between Sato and Sota. “I’m going to be the next ruler of this kingdom, and you my loyal subject.” He was talking out of his ass. “How could I not know your name?”

Sato dropped the knife. “I can’t do it!” He cried. “The queen is trying to kill you, your best option is to run as far as you can and hope she never finds you!”

Katsuki stood up from the ground and scrubbed the dirt off his clothes. “Right, thank you, I guess, for not killing me or whatever.” He jogged into the forest, enjoying it more than he normally would, maybe because it had been a while since he had been able to make one of his mornings runs.

At some point, his foot got tangled on some tree roots and he came crashing to the ground. “Argh!” He exclaimed. “Dumb tree, dumb story, dumb Deku!” He raged, and sat on the ground, finding the cabin could wait. As he lay on the ground feeling sorry for himself he felt small tweets from above, and slowly, animals from the forest came out and stared at him.

The blonde groaned. “One of you better not be Dunce face or Hair for brains.” He couldn’t take any more woodland animals as his friends, although thankfully it seemed none of them was anyone he knew. “What are you doing here then, If not to torture me?”

All the animals started to walk toward somewhere, and Katsuki, having nothing better to do went with them, only to find the small house Deku talked about. He opened the door, finding the insides absolutely filthy. And as much as Katsuki had complained he disliked cleaning, he disliked even more letting it stay filthy.

‘Fucking fine’ He thought because only in his mind he could use his favorite words. “You win, stupid Deku, I’ll clean this pigsty.” Katsuki picked up a broom and started sweeping the comical amounts of dust and dirt, the animals around him started to do the same, and for the first time, he didn’t mind the small woodland animals that seemed to follow him lately.

When he finally finished he realized how tired he was, it had been a few days since he last slept, so maybe now he could take a nap. Bakugou climbed the stairs, peering at the small beds with the dwarf's names, he pushed some of them together so he could fit in and dropped like a log on them, paying no mind to the few small animals that cuddled him, he was too tired for that shit.

He closed his eyes and lost consciousness.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

“What is that? Is it a ghost?” Said a fearful but familiar voice.

“Ha! There’s no such thing as a ghost.” An angrier voice said.

“Who cares, ghosts can’t touch you, let’s just sleep and be done with it.” Said another voice that sounded just like Aizawa.

With his sleep finally disrupted Katsuki decided to sit up and fuck up anyone who dared wake him. When he rose from the bed, multiple gasps were heard. “What is it now?” He said, the blanket still over his head, which he removed slowly.

When he finally could see, he found seven eerily familiar dwarfs looking at him and gasping once again.

“Prince!” One of them exclaimed. “What are you doing here, young prince?”

Holy shit, this dwarf was All Might. Katsuki gaped at the blonde dwarf, his face a picture of the man’s old glory.

The teen looked at the others, Aizawa, Present Mic, Koda, Kirishima, Kaminari...and Endeavour?!

“Let me guess, you,” Bakugou pointed at Aizawa. “Are sleepy, you,” Present Mic, who let out a very loud sneeze. “Are Sneezy, you,” Koda blushed. “Bashful.” Then Kirishima. “You are Happy, I guess.” Kaminari. “Dunce face, you are obviously Dopy.” Bakugou laughed. “This must be Todoroki’s old man, Endeavour.” The red-haired dwarf fumed. “That leaves you All Might, I guess you are Doc.”

All Might smiled. “Yes, young prince.” He eyed Katsuki as if searching for answers. “What brings you here?”

“Yeah, that, the queen is trying to kill me or something.” The younger man dismissed carelessly.

“The queen is trying to kill you?!” Several of the small men exclaimed.

“Yes, so let me hide here, I’ll cook and clean, or something.” Katsuki forced himself to say.

“Like we would let a stranger stay here in our h-” Endeavour started to say.

“Of course you can stay, my boy!” All Might said. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yeah!” Kirishima, Kaminari, and Present Mic said, Koda blushed, and Aizawa grunted his approval from where he slept.

Endeavour growled.

The next day, after making the seven nuisances breakfast and them lining up at the door to go to the mine, Kirishima took of his stupid hat and watched Katsuki expectantly.

“What do you want.” The blonde said, but he had started to piece what hair for brains was silently asking, the redhead wanted a kiss on his forehead, Bakugou fumed, missing the cracking sound of his quirk. The thing was Snow White obviously did so in the movie, and if he wanted to be truthful with what he promised Deku, he had to kiss the foreheads of these dumbasses and thank god they wouldn’t remember, or at least he hoped so.

He reluctantly kissed Kirishima’s forehead, cringing when the dwarf continued in his way. It didn’t take long for the rest of the short men to follow suit.

Kaminari laughed and thanked him with a teasing smile. Katsuki struggled not to punch with his bare hands. Koda, bless him, just blushed and continued on his way, Aizawa grunted, Present Mic whooped in happiness, and All Might thanked him.

Lastly, there was Endeavour, who Katsuki categorically and morally opposed kissing, as much as he hated the half-and-half bastard his old man was trash and he wasn’t about to ignore that. But he had made a promise to stupid Deku who was probably living it large somewhere as a prince.

Katsuki swallowed his pride if only because he was a man of his word.

He slowly bent to press his lips on Endeavour's dwarfed forehead, closing his eyes to avoid extra trauma, and gave him a lightning-quick kiss.

“It’s not like I wanted you to, brat!” What the fuck? Was Endeavour a tsundere?

Bakugou would never be able to look at the number one hero ever again.

While Katsuki baked a pie in the old-fashioned oven he heard some commotion on the outside. Bristling Katsiki let go of the hot pie and peeked through the window, only to see Shigaraki dressed in black rags and carrying a basket of apples.

Holy fuck, Shigaraki was the queen?!

Katsuki couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “You?! Your crusty musty ass is the queen? HAHHAHA” He was nearly crying, Shigaraki looked worse than normal, and that was so hard to do in the blonde’s mind that he had to give the man kudos for surpassing himself.

“W-what? No, I’m no old queen, just an old man offering such beauty an apple.” Shigaraki stuttered, quickly jumping into convincing the teen into taking the blood-red apple in his ugly hands.

Katsuki wiped his tears of laughter. “I’m just, haha, sorry, It’s just been an annoying day.” He explained. “But alright, since you made me laugh so much I’ll take the apple, thank you for the few hours of peace, while that stupid Deku makes it here.” The blonde bit the apple, promptly falling asleep as he heard Shigaraki’s pathetic laugh.

۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵

Izuku panted as he followed the forest’s animals toward the dwarf's house, where he knew Katsuki was waiting for him, the queen, whoever they were, was probably already chased off a cliff and Kacchan was placed in a crystal case.

He arrived at a clearing, watching as the dwarfs mourned Katsuki’s apparent death.

Wait. Was that Endeavour?! No. No, no time for that, literally everyone they knew was becoming a supporting character in these stories, it was entirely possible Endeavour was too.

...Was he supposed to be grumpy?

Izuku shook his head away from those thoughts and focused on Katsuki’s relaxed face as he slept and the dwarfs took away the glass casing on top of the snoozing blonde. Deku had always wondered why on earth the dwarfs just took off the case for some random prince to kiss the princess? What if it was just some creep? Though he had heard the age of the actual prince was 31, while Snow White was 14, which, what the hell.

Anyways he was getting sidetracked, maybe due to the nerves of having to kiss Kacchan, and the intense gazes the dwarfs were sending the green-eyes teen. He gulped, approaching the other man’s face, suddenly feeling very hot. It's not like they hadn’t kissed before, just two days ago Kacchan had kissed him, and there was always that one time they were 4 and wanted to know what kissing felt like.

However, both times it had been Katsuki who had initiated, not Izuku, Deku had never been the one to kiss someone, and the fact they were not conscious was really bothering him. It was morally incorrect to kiss someone who was unconscious, even if he somewhat knew Katsuki would be ok with it.

He felt dirty, like a 31-year-old prince kissing a 14-year-old girl, well maybe not that dirty.

But still, he did not feel great about this.

Finally, as his lips were millimeters away from Bakugou’s, Deku avoided the pink plump lips of his classmate and kissed the other’s cheek swiftly and reeled back. Katsuki’s eyes remained closed for dreadful long seconds, until red eyes fluttered open, sleepily batting long blonde eyelashes at Izuku.

“Took you long enough, nerd.” Katsuki complained as Deku offered him a hand and a taller teen rose from the adorned crystal bed.

“Sorry Kacchan.” Izuku said, relieved that the kiss on the cheek was enough to wake the other up. “Let’s go?”

Katsuki blinked. “Oh, yeah, you said we now ride into the sunset.”

“I-I mean, y-yeah, that’s how I remember it ended.” Izuku stuttered.

“Thank god.” Katsuki launches himself at Izuku's horse, waving at the dwarfs and animals as Izuku himself mounts it.

“Are you ready?” Izuku said, feeling like he forgot something.

“Yes.” The blonde rushed, a fake smile plastered on his face as he waved. “Let’s go you stupid piece of crap.”

“Right.” Izuku instructs the horse to start moving toward the horizon where a large range of beautiful reds and oranges paint the sky.

“Thank you for nothing!” Katsuki waves again, this time his smile is more genuine as he does a pg version of his usual cursing at the dwarfs and animals that probably don’t hear him due to the distance. “Hope you trip on your horrendous beards and die!”

The green-haired teen sweat drops as Bakugou finally settles down.

That is until he notices the horizon only seems to get further away. “No! Look, we aren’t moving on!”

Deku has to agree, as he notes his surroundings, while the background isn’t repeating, there seems to be no end to the valley even as seconds turn into several minutes. Well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions, Izuku thought as he meditated the best way to confess why they may be unable to finish the story.

“Darn it!” Katsuki growled in frustration. “I swear I did everything you told me.” He tried to explain. “I even kissed Endeavour’s old geezer head.”

“I know, Kacchan.” Izuku reassured, gulping as he realized he needed to come clean. “It is my fault.” He confessed.

“What?”

“So you know ten minutes ago when I was supposed to kiss you and wake you up from the sleeping curse?”

“Yes…?” Katsuki nodded. “What’s your point?”

“I may or may not have kissed your cheek instead of kissing you in the lips like in the traditional story.” He said sheepishly. “...Sorry...?

Katsuki slowly turns to look at the dumbass he called childhood friend. “What did you just say?”

“...I’m...sorry?” Izuku’s voice got weaker.

“What on earth is your problem?!” Katsuki bellowed, his eyes glowing red. “You SAID that we needed to follow the story to get out, you made me PROMISE I would go along with it just this once.”

The other man cringed. “I know, I know.” He whined. “I’m sorry, it’s just when I had to kiss you, you were unconscious and it just felt wrong since you never explicitly agreed that I could kiss you.”

“It was implied that I wanted to kiss you!” Katsuki yelled and then blushed, Izuku did too. “I mean, it was implied I was ok with it, you bumbling buffoon!” He screeched.

“Buffoon...?” Izuku mumbled as he stared in surprise at red embarrassed eyes.

“Ughhh!” Katsuki said in frustration. “Being this mad without using my quirk is making me lame.” He explained to himself, he took the reins of the still moving horse and yanked it so it stopped. Then he threw his legs over the animal so Bakugou was fully facing Deku. “Let’s just kiss so maybe this can be over, you piece of garbage.”

Katsuki pulled Izuku roughly so their noses were touching. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to kick your ass into the next century after we get back to UA.”

Before Izuku could respond, their lips smashed together, harder and deeper than necessary, all while he was vaguely aware the world started to crumble and fade into white once again.

#izuku x bakugo #bakudeku fan fiction #bakudeku art #bakudeku #katsudeku #katsuki x izuku #the beauty and the deku

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my-simp-land · 3 years

Text

My Whole World

Bucky wants to go for a motorcycle ride, and you end up going with him as his "chaperone." A beautiful kaleidoscope awaits you. Bucky x reader. 1954 words. Fluff. Have fun on the ride :))

“Hey Friday? Do we have any grapes?”

“We do not, Miss. We have gala apples, bananas, blueberries, mangos, strawberries, and watermelon.”

“Strawberries and sugar, it is. Thank you, Friday.”

“You’re welcome, Miss.”

It’s a short walk to the kitchen. I’m on hall GERS, so I have to walk through the common area to get to the kitchen. As I approached, I could hear quite the argument. Likely, Bucky and Sam. Or Bucky and Tony. The way I describe it, and it might be my bias, but Bucky isn’t actually the problem. Bucky and Sam were like a married couple; they could fight all day and go home and climb into bed together. Bucky and Tony are something else though. After Bucky’s rehabilitation in Wakanda, it took a while for Tony to accept Bucky’s apology and allow him to stay in the compound without constant surveillance. That was a tense period of times. Bucky always tries to be kind to Tony, but if Tony gets slightly agitated then it’s on.

“It’s just a ride. The bike has trackers. My arm has trackers. I can even be back before dark.”

“I don’t care, tin man. You’re not leaving the premises without a chaperone. You live with the Avengers, and if you run or turn or get captured, what does that say about us?”

“I won’t be turned! Shuri got it out of my head! And Vision and (Y/N) made sure of it! I don’t understa-”

Now is a good time if any. “Hey guys. Have any dinner plans?”

Silence.

“Well...I’m just gonna grab some strawberries real quick then I’ll be out of your hair.”

It was deathly silent as I arranged my plate with strawberries and fixed a little ramekin with some sugar. It’s usually Sam and Bucky that do the staring contest, but Tony can be childish too.

“I don’t think I need a babysitter.”

“And I don’t care.”

And the bomb dropped. They were yelling over each other to quite a degree. Yelling was never your thing. Or any loud noise in all honesty. Trauma does funny things to you. You could see Steve and Sam at the common room entrance and Wanda and Nat at the other hall enterance. I’m certain we are about to see the beginning of the second civil war.

“YOU’RE SCARING (Y/N)!”

“YOU’RE THE ONE THAT BROUGHT IT UP WITH HER STILL HERE! YOU SHOULD APOLOGIZE!”

“YOU RAISED YOUR VOICE FIRST! IT WAS JUST A NORMAL CONVERSA-”

“BULLSHIT! YOU JUST CAN’T LIVE WIT-”

“i’ll do it.”

Everything seemed to stand still. Onlookers happened to turn to me, and Bucky and Tony were locked in another staring contest. I guess I’ll have to say it again.

“I’ll do it. I’ll ride with you, Bucky. Just- just stop yelling please.”

Bucky sighed and looked away from Tony, losing the contest. “Doll, you don’t have to ride with me. I’ll just put it off. You don’t even like motorcycles. I’ll just hang here.” He tried to do that smile that would make me agree. I coud see it in his blue eyes that he was sad about it though. It seems to him that I’m agreeing with Tony about him needing a babysitter.

“No. We’ll ride. I trust you to drive.”

His eyes nearly doubled in size. I knew I hooked him. It wasn’t often that someone said that to him, even after his rehab. I do trust him though. He’s always protected me on missions, HYDRA and Avengers alike. He’s the most dangerous person I know, but I know without a doubt that he would save me should something happen on our drive.

“Okay. That’s settled. Thank you for riding with Tin Man. I’ll see you two once you’re back.”

Tony turned and left the kitchen. It seems like everyone else cleared out pretty quick too. That just leaves me, Bucky, and my strawberries.

“You can uh, eat before we go. I didn’t plan on being back soon.”

“Okay.”

“And maybe something a little warmer. It gets cold on the mountain after dark.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you in 45.”

A quick snack, refresh, and change of clothes later, I was stepping into the garage to meet Bucky. When you stepped in, you could spot Bucky near the back looking at Tony’s father’s car. Tony would keep them out of sight, but Bucky and Steve enjoyed them. It also reminded them of how different they are.

“Hey Buck. Ready to go?”

“Yeah, doll. Just...looking. Steve is letting us borrow his bike. Let me show you some safety stuff on it...just in case, y’know.”

We walked over to the Steve’s bike. It was a pretty bikes, but you’d seen it plenty. Steve loved that thing like it was a child. Bucky however, he was something else. He had his long hair pulled back into a half up half down look. His stubble had recently graduated into a beard. The extra dark hair on his face made his blue eyes pop even more. His outfit though. It was rare to see him out of his usual hoodie, basketball shorts, and slides or his field outfit. He had dressed warm for the occasion. Bucky wore his leather coat over a navy henley. He wore dark jeans and heavy iron toed boots. He was the definition of…

“Doll, you listening?”

“Uh, no.”

“I figured as much. Put your helmet on and we’ll go.”

“What about your helmet? I know you might not have much up there, but it is quite a pretty face.” His eye roll was so hard it probably could’ve detached his eyes.

“Super soldier, angel. I don’t nee-”

“James Buchanan, I will not get on a death trap motorcycle with someone who doesn’t have a helmet on. Do you even have a driver’s license? Muchless a motorcycle license?”

“I’ll put a helmet on if you don’t ask about my license situation anymore. Deal?”

“You drive a hard bargain. Okay, deal.” I handed him my helmet. He slipped it on as I grabbed another. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Hop on, doll. Yeah, just like that. Scoot closer. Closer. Like right up against- yeah. Yes. Alrighty. Your feet will rest here and here. Keep them there so you don’t burn yourself on the motor. Perfect, dollface. Now, just hold on. Not- no. Doll, hold on to me. You won’t have any stability behind me.”

“I don’t know about this…”

“You agreed. Just hold me like you hold that big green frog marshmallow thing.”

“Bucky!”

“Yeah, I’ve seen you clutch that thing. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t busted it yet. Now hold on.”

“I hate you.”

He laughed that sweet beautiful laugh. It was rare to get a genuine laugh out of him, so maybe this death machine was worth it. “I know you do.”

And we were off. Back tire skidded and fish tailed behind us. Tony would complain about that. My helmet was glued between Bucky’s shoulder blades. My screams and Bucky’s laughter filled the comms. The wind blew past us, but my arms didn’t let up on Bucky’s torso. My heart felt like it was beating out my chest. I’m certain he could feel my heart on his back. I could feel us turn through the curvy mountain roads. Thankfully I listened to Bucky and got a thicker coat or I would be frozen to the bone.

“Doll, look up.”

“No. My head is gonna fly off if I look up.”

“I promise, doll. Don’t you trust me.”

Fuck.

I would much rather be shot again than lift my head from the safety of Bucky’s back, but he pulled the stupid trust card. “You can do it, angel. It’s so worth it.”

It was slow motion. My head came up, and the wind blew across my helmet and down my neck. I had to blink to get used to the light again. Everything was so beautiful, The yellow-greens of the spring leaves created a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors around us. White blossoms littered the road and fell around us. Sunbeams poked through the leaves and reflected off in a perfect way.

“Wow.”

“Yeah. We’ll stop up here to watch the sunset.”

Everything seemed to slow down. I was so enamored by the scenery I didn’t notice Bucky stealing glances at my big head. I definitely looked like a bobble head.

Bucky pulled off the road onto a lookout. We had the perfect view of the valley.

“Wow Bucky. Look! You can see the compound from here! Oh wow. The trees are so pretty. Everything is...golden.”

“Yeah. I remember driving up here a couple times before the war. The first time I came was not long after Becca was born. I was still really young, but I remember the stars sparkling. It was the first time I had ever seen them. Y’know, being in Brooklyn and light pollution and what not. I knew I wanted to spend every night here, just looking at the stars.”

Bucky shuffled a little closer. I could feel the heat radiating from him. We faced the sun as it set deeper into the valley. Everything was turning from a nice green yellow to orange and golden,

“The second time was not long before I was shipped out. I had saved up enough for gas to borrow my pa’s truck. We spent all day here. It was unbearably hot all day. Poor Steve, he was still a bean pole, and I basically had to sell my soul to keep him long enough to see the sunset. It was worth it though. I would do it everyday for him. We stood here, just like us, and watched the sunset. We’d seen the sunset plenty, but his face when he looked up and saw those stars. His face was priceless.”

I could see how much Steve meant to him, and how much he missed his home. Even though he was getting better at fitting in, it still wasn’t where he belonged.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I wish I could take you back.”

“No, no, no. Doll. I didn’t mean it that way.” His hands covered my shoulders, flesh and metal. “I’m trying to say...oh lord how do i? I’ve only brought my best friend here and now you and...I don’t know. I’m not as smooth as I was. Just uh...I want you to know that you’re special to me. In a Steve but not Steve way.”

My mouth was a perfect O. I knew I was daft, but this is a new low. My brain was already short-circuiting, but I shut down when he grabbed my face. I was stuck staring into his ocean blue eyes.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

His soft lips touched mine. My body was suddenly in motion. Our chests were squished together and my hands found their way to the back of his neck, his hair intertwined my fingers. In that moment, his breath became mine. Our souls were one. Everything I was flowed through him, and everything he was flowed through me. Fuck the sunset, this is something else.

We pulled away. It was like post nut clarity. “I hope you did the same for Steve when you brought him.” Bucky died laughing. The full belly laugh that would hurt if you laughed too long. It was highly contagious because I was leaning into him. “You know Steve is too modest to do something as passionate as that.”

Our laughter trailed off, and we were left staring at the valley. We missed the actual sunset, but you could begin to see the stars poking through.

“It’s like looking over the whole world.”

“Yeah, my whole world.”

yoooo. i hope you enjoyed. i love doing little domestic pieces like this. if you have some ideas for domestic pieces you want to see, please send me an ask. i can't promise i'll write since i'm inconsistent af, but it might motivated me more :))

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky fic #bucky x you #bucky imagine #marvel #sebastian stan #fluff #fanfic #bucky barns fanfiction

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Apples & Lattes

A/N: Not requested or anything, but I have been in my fall and Marcus feels, so here we are. Its just a lot of sweet fluff, but I hope you all enjoy 💕🥰

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 7.6k

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“When are you going to finally settle down and get married?” you nearly choked on your wine as your mother calmly asked you the question you’d pointedly hoped wouldn’t happen. But here it was. Again. Just like so many other times.

Once you’d calmed down and cleared the sweet, red wine from your throat, you set your glass down and plastered the kindest smile you could muster up on your face. The air in the room was so thick with tension it was physically palpable, “I’m not.. I’m not even seeing anyone, Mom. I don’t think that’s a feasible question at this point.”

“But honey,” there was that sticky sweet and concerned tone again, “you’re getting older and still haven’t married. Aren’t you worried that you’ll end up alone? Why haven’t you found anyone yet?”

“Gee, thanks for the concern,” you sighed as you pushed your plate away, suddenly losing your appetite. You knew you shouldn’t have to come to Sunday Dinner at your parents’ house. Everyone else in the room was deathly silent - no was sure what to say or do, “but um, no, it’s never occurred to me. I don’t think about it, really.”

Oh, but you did. You just weren’t about to admit that to her just yet.

“Look at all your friends, and colleagues,” she wasn’t about the let issue go. Fantastic, you wanted to groan and slam your head onto the table then and there, “they’re all married, getting married, or starting their own families.”

“And that’s great for them,” you cut her off, “I’m just not there, and honestly, I don’t know if I ever will be. And that’s just fine by me. I don’t have to be like everyone else.”

“I just want you to be happy-”

“And I am,” you insisted. And you were - truly. But there was a part of you that did long for more... “really. I’m also busy with work - in case you’ve forgotten I run my own business. Besides, I just haven’t met anyone that’s really caught my eye.”

You’d gone on dates here and there, but no ever really seemed to be...the one. The one you’d be willing risk it all for and with. Sure, some were nice, really nice, and others were good for a night in bed, but you’d never deemed anyone worthy of more. Your time was precious, and you weren’t about to waste it on anyone just because, just so you could have a half hearted relationship that ultimately left you unfulfilled.

“Maybe you should be...less picky,” she suggested and you almost snorted laughter.

"Listen," you stood up abruptly, your chair scraping lucky against the wooden floor, "this has been great and all, but I'm going to go. I didn't come here to be berated and belittled because of choices I've made. If I wanted that, I'd serve a customer a wrong order. And no, mom, I'm not going to be less picky or lower my standards just to find someone and please you."

"What if you ever find someone? You're so arrogant and stubborn sometimes-"

"Then so be it," you tossed the napkin onto the table and gave everyone a mock bow before turning to leave, "and then I'll be a lonely, but happy, old spinster!"

Before anyone of them could respond with so much as a sound, you stormed out of the room and out of the house, ready to be far, far away from them.

»»————-　♡　————-«

"Come on," you whispered under your breath as you reached for the last few apples on the branch. They were just out of your reach, and you were stretching precariously across the way trying to get them. The rickety old ladder under you wobbled slightly, but ignored its protests, reaching just a little more. These were the most perfect apples you had seen in some time and you needed them. Had to have them even.

Which was exactly why you were risking life and limb for them.

Finally, one of them came into contact with your gloved and you had made a small sound of triumph. But before you grab it and put in the bucket hanging from another of the branches, the ancient ladder decided it had had enough. And it started to tip over, causing you to do the same.

Everything happened so fast you almost didn't have to react, instead you braced yourself for the hard impact with the cold ground.

But it never came.

Instead you felt yourself securely enveloped in a pair of strong arms. When everything felt safe again, you slowly opened your eyes and peeked around to study your surroundings. Instead of the hard, dirty ground, you meet a pair of warm, soft chocolate eyes.

"Are you okay?" If his eyes were sweet and honeyed, then the voice that met your ears was even more so. You tried to find your own and tell him that yes, despite almost breaking your neck for some apples, you were just fine. But nothing came out - instead you stared at him, feeling a flush of warmth wash over you. He seemed concerned for a moment when you didn't respond but eventually you nodded and he gently set you back down, "there you are."

"I...ugh...erm...thank you," your voice finally seemed to return to as you bit your lip, suddenly feeling more shy than ever. Where was this suddenly coming from? Was it because you had quite literally fallen into the arms of one of the most handsome men you had ever seen? Possibly.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked with a warm chuckle. Slowly, ever so gently, he put his hand under your chin and tilted your face up to make sure there was no visible damage. His touch was like pure fire, sending a warmth and sparks throughout your veins.

"Yes," you said softly, giving him an affirmative nod, "just umm...apparently not very careful. Totally my own fault."

"That old thing wasn't helping," he gave the now ruined ladder a dismissal look, "it was ready to collapse at any moment."

"It didn't help that I was leaning over and trying to get those apples," you pointed at the few that remained, sighing heavily. You'd really wanted them, but now it looked like you'd have to leave them behind. Along with the rest that you had picked and left hanging in the bucket. Maybe you'd find some other good ones on another tree...

"Those?" he asked, pointing at the branch as you nodded sadly. A megawatt grin crossed his features as he walked over to the base of the tree, "the bucket - it's yours too?"

"Yes...I guess I should go back and get another ladder...hopefully they have some more," you were definitely more upset about your apples than you should have been. But hey, you'd been hunting for and picking apples for hours.

"No need," he said quickly. You were about to ask him what he meant but he quickly answered your silent question by climbing the tree and scaling the branch, effortlessly grabbing your bucket. But he didn't stop there - oh no. He siddled carefully along the branch and picked the remainder of your precious apples, setting them in the bucket along with the others.

Your mouth was open as you watched him in wonder, amazed by how effortless he made everything seem. Before you knew it, he was jumping down landing on his feet gracefully, a little smile on his face as you just watched him in awe.

"I believe these are yours," he said as he held out the bucket, filled to the brim with your treasures, "what's so special about these particular apples?"

"These are the perfect blend of tart and sweet," you said softly as you slowly took them from him, "for baking and making all sorts of pastries. They're hard to find around here and this orchard only has a few of the specific trees. So...I wanted to make sure I got them."

"And now you have them," he beamed at you as you struggled not to completely melt under his soft gaze, "I hope they serve you well. Do you do a lot of baking?”

"I-"

"Pike!" someone shouted as the man's face visibly contorted into a look of annoyance. You tried to hold back your giggles as he dramatically rolled his eyes, "we have to go!"

"I'll be right there!" he let out a long sigh before meeting your eyes again and giving you an almost apologetic look, to which you answered with a soft smile, "well, I guess this is goodbye."

"Thank you," you held out your hand for him to shake. He wasted no time in shaking it in his much larger one, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine, "I appreciate you saving both my neck, literally and metaphorically, and getting my apples for me."

"Don't mention it," he said softly, "it was a pleasure to meet you. I didn't get your name and I -"

"Pike! Now!"

"Better get going," you jerked your head in the direction of the man that was shouting for him. Although, if you were being honest with yourself, you were reluctant to see him go, "thank you again."

He opened his mouth to say something else but instead his name was shouted yet again. Hanging his head in annoyance, he exhaled sharply through his nose, "any time..."

Not wanting him to get in any trouble, you took your apples and gave him one last wave before walking away. Your feet had never felt so heavy and every part of you was humming to turn around and go back to him. To at least get his name, first name anyways as you assumed Pike must have been his surname. But you didn't. Why bother? You'd never see him again and it wouldn't do well to dwell on him or what had happened. It was just an accident and he was a nice man that helped you. A one and done deal; it wasn't like you'd just met Prince Charming.

Then why did you want to turn around and run after him?

Marcus watched as you trekked away, wondering if there was actually a bounce in your step or if he was imagining it. He sighed deeply at what he already deemed the most annoying thing to happen in a long time. As he watched you, he realized that your scarf had fallen and been left on the ground. Marcus quickly picked it up, ready to rush after you and return it. But you were already gone. Clutching onto the soft, still slightly warm fabric, he tucked it into his pocket. One way or another he would find it and return it to you. He was an FBI agent for goodness sake, it should be an easy task.

"Pike!" Marcus cursed under his breath as he turned around to leave. He would find you again, he vowed, no matter what.

»»————-　♡　————-«

By the way the man called Pike had been living in your mind rent free for what seemed to be days, you'd think you'd have done a lot more than exchange a few words with him.

But alas.

You'd had your one interaction with him and the rest had been daydream fantasies. You'd even let your mind wander so far as to wonder what it would be like to kiss those plump pouty lips that were burned into your mind. You wondered if he was always so kind and thoughtful or if it had been a matter of convenient timing.

Or something...it was a random encounter and you were just glad he had been there to catch you.

As you another pie down to cool, you softly heard your name being called from the doorway. It was Sabrina, one of your several loyal employees, poking her head in and offering you a smile.

"What's up?" you asked as you wiped your hands on the rag over your shoulder before tossing it onto the counter.

"There's someone here to see you," there was something about the little grin on her face that had you intrigued. You tilted your head curiously, "just..come on."

"I'm busy with-"

"Come on," she innocently with wide eyes as you laughed lightly, amused by her persistence. You didn’t normally have people come and directly ask for you...not unless it was an off moment and someone was mad about something trivial, “the apple pies can wait.”

“I almost died for these apples,” you joked, stripping off your apron and laying it down on the counter, “this better be worth it.”

“Oh, I think it will be,” she promised as she held the door open for you and let you go in front of her. As you walked up to the counter, you prepared to put on your best customer service voice, hoping whatever little problem it was could be solved with a smile and a slice of pie.

As the person came into view, your mouth dropped open as he quickly locked eyes with you. His own mouth quickly turned into a grin, his warm, soft eyes almost twinkling.

“Hi,” you barely managed to choke out as you walked over to him. You hadn’t expected to see him again. Ever. But here he was, in your own little coffee shop out of all the places in the world. This had to be some sort of dream, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Hi,” he replied, producing his hand from behind his back, holding out your scarf to you. In all honesty, you’d completely forgotten about it, having made peace with the face that you’d probably lost it somewhere. But this was most definitely a welcome surprise. Your favorite scarf back - and hand delivered by a handsome man? This was definitely too good to be true, “you dropped this at the orchard last weekend. I wanted to make sure you had it back.”

“Thank you so much,” you gently took it from him, clutching the soft fabric tightly to your chest.

"You found me..." you said softly, amazed by his sleuthing skills. You hadn't even gotten the chance to give him your name and he had still found you. But then again...surely a coincidence..."how did you manage that? I didn't even get a chance to give you my name..."

"Well, it's kind of a part of the job," he said as you raised an eyebrow at him. His mouth formed a small o as his cheeks took on a pink tinge, "I realize that doesn't quite sound right. I swear I'm not some sort of stalker."

"That sounds like exactly what a stalker would say," you laughed as he hung his head in mock defeat, "even if you are, it was very kind of you to return my scarf."

"FBI," he admitted softly under his breath as you mulled it over. It would explain the suit, which you thought fit him perfectly, but then you caught a quick peek of a badge under the jacket. You were sure it said FBI on it. Maybe he was legit, "I work for the FBI."

"How perfectly mysterious," you teased with a small wink, "all this trouble for a scarf? I'm just curious...how did you put it all together?"

"Itwasformorethanthescarf," he mumbled so quickly you weren't able to quickly catch everything. Before you could ask him for clarification, however, he continued, "it wasn't hard really."

"Oh?" you grinned, "do tell. If you've got the time, of course..."

"I do actually-"

"Wait!" you almost jumped in excitement as a wicked little idea crossed your mind, "do you like apple pie?"

"Its my favorite," he admitted shyly.

"Great," you beamed at him, "I have fresh apple pie, with the apples from last weekend! You have to try it. How do you take your coffee?"

“A little bit of cream and a healthy amount of sugar,” you couldn’t help but grin at the simple order, thinking it suited him perfectly. You motioned for him to sit at a quiet little table in the corner as you got to work. You could feel his kind eyes on you the entire time as you prepared your coffees, hoping you made it to his liking.

Sabrina must have been lurking nearby and listening as she popped out with two plates of warm, fresh pie. Flashing you an innocent smile, she flounced over to Marcus, and set the pie down with an overly cheery smile.

“He’s cute,” she whispered as she pushed past you, “you’ve finally found a keeper it appears.”

“I don’t...no,” you insisted as you grabbed a mug in each hand, “he’s not...I don’t know him.”

“Oh, but you will,” she winked before waving at a newly arrived customer and going to attend to them.

You bit your lip, letting out a long sigh before turning around to go back to him. You weren’t going to get lost in your little daydream fantasies...not yet at least.

“Here you are,” you set the coffee in front of him as you took the seat across from him, “I hope it’s okay.”

“Perfect,” he promised as he took a long sip. Grabbing a fork, he looked at the pie as you encouraged him to take a bite. He took a big forkful, giving it a thorough look over before putting it into his mouth. Almost fighting back a moan at how sinfully delicious the pie was, all he could do was nod before taking another heaping bit. You had been right, these apples made for some delicious, maybe the most delicious pie he had ever eaten, “holy shit.”

“Good, right?” your voice was singsong sweet as you took a bite from your own plate. His eyes were wide as all he could do was devour the remainder of his plate, “I’m telling you, it’s the apples, they make all the difference.”

“I can see why you were willing to break your neck for them,” he agreed. You’d converted another one, “I’m glad you didn’t though…”

“Me too,” you stared at your plate for a moment, “otherwise no one else would be able to make this delicious pie. Now tell me, mysterious FBI Agent, how did you find me?”

“It was simple,” he admitted, “all I did was look up the apples, and low and behold, an article about the woman that loves to use them for her renowned pies popped up. It just so happens that it was the same woman that fell into my arms when foraging for said apples. And she owns a café in the city where I work. I took it as a sign.”

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as you listened to him. You should have realized it would really be simple for anyone to find you, but the fact that it was him just sent a spark through your veins. He had chosen to go through all of this trouble for you, “ahh, well, I should have realized it would be easy to find me. Either way, thank you for going through all of this trouble to bring back my scarf.”

“Any time,” he promised like it had been no big deal in the slightest. To him it wasn’t, not for you anyway. That much he already decided. He said your name softly and you wanted to melt then and there. That voice. That honeyed, sofy baritone already did a number on you, “I was wondering-”

“Hold on,” you licked some of the pie filing off of your fork as you waggled it at him, “you know my name now, but I still don’t know yours. Although if I remember correctly, that annoying man that called you away kept calling you Pike.”

“Marcus Pike,” he confirmed, holding his hand across the table for you to shake. You eagerly took it, trying not to marvel at how large and soft his was, “or Agent Pike. But you can call me Marcus.”

“Marcus,” you repeated his name, deciding you liked how it sounded, especially coming from him, “I like it. It suits you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, “umm, I’m sorry, I interrupted you earlier, what were you going to ask?”

“I was wondering if you’d like to-”

“Boss!” Sabrina had the most impeccable timing as she poked her head back out from the kitchen, “I need your help. I’m having trouble with the oven…”

“Can it wait a few moments? I’m sure it’s-”

“Fire,” she said meekly, “small fire, but fire…”

“Shit,” you hissed under your breath as you jumped to your feet, instructing her to get the fire extinguisher, “I’m so sorry to cut this short, but I gotta go. It was nice to see you, Marcus. Thank you...for everything. I really appreciate it. You can just leave your plate and mug, I’ll grab them later.”

“No problem,” he said as he watched you all but run away, sighing lightly to himself. More perfect timing. He drummed his fingers along the table before stacking the plates and grabbing your mugs and taking them to the spot you had designated for dirty dishes, despite what you had told him. Before he walked out, he got a quick burst of genius as he quickly grabbed a napkin and the pen from his suit pocket, scribbling down his phone number. He leaned over the counter and tucked it near the register, hoping you would see it and know it was from him.

He hoped you would keep it and get back to him.

He hoped, he hoped, he hoped.

»»————-　♡　————-«

Several weeks had passed since you had fallen for Marcus. Literally of course. The jury was still out on the metaphorical part. Okay...that was probably true too. He was living rent free in your mind, occupying many of your thoughts throughout the day.

You’d found his number and after finally convincing yourself to text him, you found yourself exchanging texts with him throughout the day. It was on and off of course, with you at the cafe and him at the FBI, but was nice. It always brought a smile to your face to see a text from him.

It had even led to him asking to take you out on a date, a proper date.

You said yes, naturally.

But that was almost three weeks ago, and the date had yet to happen.

The first time you got ready to go out with Marcus, he canceled at the last moment. You were already all dressed and ready, makeup and hair done when you'd gotten the hectic call. It was work, naturally, and you couldn't blame the FBI agent. He sounded genuinely upset to cancel, but promised he'd make it up to you soon. At least you'd gotten some decent selfies out of night, even if you ended up eating Chinese takeout and watching Netflix.

The second time, you had to cancel on Marcus. It was the morning of your redo date night, and you had found at the last moment that a well known food journalist wanted to interview you. You were reluctant to go and cancel again, but Marcus had been more than encouraging. So you went and Marcus ordered a pizza and binge watched some cooking shows on TV.

The third time it was a mutual cancelation. Marcus' parents came to surprise with a visit and you ended up with a stomach bug. Both of you were reluctant to cancel, and swore the next time it would work out.

It had to, right? Surely things would happen this time.

But no.

The fourth time around, you were both thoroughly determined to make things work. It was going to work out this time. It had to.

But once again, fate had different plans.

You and Marcus had made all of your plans, and you'd decided to leave work early to go home and get ready for your date, and were ready to finally spend time with him. But it turns out the restaurant you'd selected was booked for the evening and your reservation had been given away. Marcus had a last minute briefing for a big case he was working. Once again, the universe had decided it was not meant to be.

Maybe...maybe it wasn't meant to be at all.

"Why do you look so upset?" Sabrina asked as the two of you set up some Christmas decorations around the shop, "you look like you're going to burst into tears any second."

"I'm just..." you were cut off by the sound of the bell, signaling a new customer. You quickly told her you would handle it as you walked up the counter. But your dismay quickly turned into hope and butterflies when you saw that it was none other than Marcus, "hi."

"Hi," you'd already forgotten just how much you adored that soft, gentle smile.

"What...are you doing here?"

"Well, my meeting ended early," he explained, "and I figured that even though our reservations were canceled, we could still have our date...finally."

"Really?" you tried to contain the pure delight that was flowing through veins as he slowly nodded, "I'd love to but-"

"We can handle things from here, boss!"

"I'd love to," you beamed at him, "I'm just...little underdressed."

"I know its nothing fancy," he started as you pulled off your apron and tossed behind the counter, "but I was thinking you could come over to mine? I don't want to brag but I'm a pretty good cook, and I've got some new wine I've been meaning to try. I hope this isn't too forward, I just thought a quiet evening in would be nice."

"I'd love to," you agreed eagerly. Sure, you'd only talked to him mostly through text or on the phone at this point, but you already liked him a lot - trusted him, "it will be nice to finally have our date. I was starting to feel like the universe might be against us."

"Everything happens as it should and when it should," he promised as you grabbed your purse, "and by the way, I think you look beautiful."

You didn't even bother to try and hide your smile at that point.

As it turned out, Marcus was an excellent cook, and the wine was indeed delicious.

You spent the night at his, despite your original intentions, but one thing led to another and soon enough you were in his bed, unsure where you ended and he began.

It was the first of my many such nights.

»»————-　♡　————-«

Falling in love with Marcus was easy. You didn't even have to think about it. It started out as a slow, gradual thing which soon blossomed into something you had never experienced before. At first it was scary, but like with everything else, Marcus made it wonderful.

At first it was things like good morning and good night texts. Then it was him randomly popping in to see you during his lunch breaks or you stopping into his office when you had some downtime.

Then it was the random evenings spent together - he stopped by your apartment with your favorite take out if he knew you'd had a rough day. You'd let yourself into his if you knew he was working late and make dinner and dessert.

It was the late nights spent watching silly movies or having a catch up on your favorite shows. It was lazy Sunday mornings spent in the kitchen the two of you cooking and dancing to slow music that was on in the background. It was Saturdays spent exploring new places and cities, or spending the day in bed, tangled up in each other.

It was the way he seemed to say I love you in a million different ways, without even saying the words. But he spoke them all the time as well, and you never once doubted their truthfulness.

»»————-　♡　————-«

Soon the fall turned to winter which turned to spring. In the spring was when he asked you a huge question.

"Move in with me?" it was so soft, so gentle, and completely out of the blue. You were laying in bed on a Sunday morning, the sun streaming in through the large, open window, along with the cool, crisp air. Marcus had his coffee on the nightstand as he read the morning paper and you were laying on his chest, watching the morning news. It was the perfect slow, lazy morning.

"What?" you asked as you turned your face to look up at him, a confused expression on your face. Surely you hadn't heard him correctly...

"I asked if you'd move in with me," he repeated casually, flipping to the next page of the paper. He was putting on a cool façade, but the corners of his mouth were tugging into a nervous little smile.

"Do you mean it?" you asked softly, pressing a kiss to the soft, golden skin of his bare chest. He peeked over the paper and slowly nodded before you snatched it gently out of his hands and tossed it to the side, "really?"

"Of course," he grinned, "we already send most nights together, and half of your stuff is already here...I just think it makes sense. But if you'd rather not, or wait, I understand too."

"No," you said firmly, swinging your legs over him so you were straddling his waist. You leaned down and kissed him softly, his lips melding against your own, "I want to, Marcus. Really."

"Not too soon?" he asked as he gently stroked your cheek.

"Perfect timing," you promised, "its like you always say, everything happens as it should and when it should."

And so within the month you were moved into his apartment, now yours as well.

It was easy to fall into a daily routine with him. And getting to fall asleep and wake up next to your lover every day? It always seemed too good to be true.

»»————-　♡　————-«

The apartment that became your home soon turned into a small, quaint house that the two of you got together. Although the apartment had become yours just as much as his, this was the next chapter of your lives, which you were fully ready to embrace.

It had been two falls ago that you'd met Marcus, and while it had been your favorite season before, it most definitely was now.

You didn't know what you did to deserve Marcus, but you were so glad you did. Waiting for him had been entirely worth it.

"Catch up babe," you called to Marcus as he trailed behind you, a metal ladder tucked under his arm. Ever since your encounter with the rickety wooden ladder that you had falling into his arms and life, he'd insisted on a sturdy metal one.

"I'm coming," he promised, a smile on his face, his cheeks tinged pink from the cool breeze, "besides, I'm enjoying the view!"

"Cheeky," you slowed and waited for him to catch up, pressing a kiss to his cheek when he did so, "I love it. I love you."

"I love you too," he said softly as he leaned the ladder against the base of your favorite tree. The very tree you'd fallen from during your first meeting, "let me go and check the apples. They look promising this year."

"They'll make the best pies ever," you agreed as he slowly climbed up and took the buckets from you.

"May this year you'll teach me the secret recipe," he said as he disappeared into some of the leaves.

"Nope," you teased gently, "it's Nana's secret. Only family can know it."

"We're practically family," he laughed as he poked his head down to peer at you.

"That may be so, my love," you agreed, "but you have to make an honest woman out of me first. Nana's rules."

"Oh, I will," he promised as your cheeks flushed with warmth. You had meant it mostly as a joke, but there was something about the tone in his voice that suggested he wasn't, "I'm going to marry you."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm," he insisted as he gently climbed down the ladder, landing on his feet with a small plop, "I am going to marry the hell out of you."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Agent Pike," you teased as you traded places with him and got ready to climb the ladder to start picking your prized apples. He stopped you for a moment, his hand on your neck as he pulled you in for a passionate, but gentle kiss. It was the kind that still managed to steal the breath from your lungs and thoughts from your mind, even after two years. You hoped it always would. You were sure it always would.

"I would never do such a thing, sweetheart," he whispered against your lips, "now go and pick your apples. I'll be here to catch you if you fall. Always."

"My hero," you grinned before starting your ascent, already keeping an eye open for the best apples of all.

As you searched, you noticed that Marcus seemed to be uncharacteristically quiet. You decided not to worry about it, attributing it to tiredness and a late night...but if it continued on, you'd ask soon.

"Anything good?"

"Hmmm..." your brows were furrowed in concentration as you reached for a few partially obscured apples. But instead of the soft roundness you were used to, felt something square and almost velvety. A small sound of triumph escaped your lips as you grabbed it...but then you slowly lost your balance and felt yourself slipping from the ladder.

"Sweetheart!" just like he had before, Marcus gently caught you in his arms. You looked at him with a sheepish grin as you wrapped your arms around his neck, "are you okay?"

"Right as rain," you beamed, "I guess some things never change, huh?"

"I'll take a lifetime of catching you," he said softly, "what happened?"

"I felt something," you said triumphantly as you displayed the little square box. As you studied it, you quickly realized it was...a jewelry box, "what is...how did this..."

"Open it," Marcus insisted as he slowly set you back onto the ground. You looked at him with wide eyes as he nodded. You popped the box open slowly, your breath taken away almost instantly.

Nestled safely into a soft, black velvet cushion was a beautiful diamond ring. It was simple, almost understated but elegant, nothing too large and garish. It was your favorite cut and color, both of which you'd only mentioned to Marcus in passing. You never thought he'd remember...or were you expecting this.

"Marcus," you were struggling to hold back your tears as you looked between him and the ring, "this is...are you..."

"Sweetheart," he delicately took the box from your hands, and pulled the ring out as he got down on one knee. This was happening. This was actually happening. He let out a shaky breath as he reached for your hand, "I love you more than words can describe. You have made me so, so happy. The past two years with you have been the best, and I hope we have so many more of them. I'm glad you fell into my arms then and today. I will always be there to make sure you're safe. So, in order to learn your Nana's secret recipe and to make you an honest woman and me the happiest man, will you marry me?"

"Yes," it came out without hesitation, without a second thought or single reservation, "yes, I'll marry you. I love you so much, Marcus."

"Really?" he had been so sure that you wouldn't say no, but the fact that you had said yes relieved all of the remaining fears he had. You nodded fervently as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. He quickly slipped the ring onto your finger before reaching up and wiping the tears away.

"Of course," you promised as you grabbed his face and kissed him, "I love you so much, Marcus. Everything - you are everything."

"I think that's you, sweetheart," he wrapped his arms around and held you tightly against him, "thank you."

"For what?" you laughed lightly, "you're always saving me!"

"You've helped me in so many ways," he promised, "I never thought...I never tonight I could love like this again. More than I ever have..."

"Me too," you promised, "I felt like I was gonna have to wait forever...waiting for you. That's what it really was. It was worth it. You were worth it. It's like you always say, everything happens how it's supposed to, when its supposed to."

"Exactly," he whispered softly, "I am so in love with you."

"And I you," you kissed him again, lingering against his lips as you took in all of him, "now - help me pick these apples or we won't be able to bake pies."

"We?"

"I guess you can know the recipe now," you grinned, "we're family. We've been family already."

"But not married yet," he said as he held the ladder for you.

"Close enough," you grinned, "I love you, Marcus."

"I love you, sweetheart."

»»————-　♡　————-«

“So when are you going to give us grandchildren?” as soon as the words hit you, you almost dropped the fork that was halfway to your mouth. Your face instantly warmed up as you turned to Marcus, ready to profusely apologize to him for your mother’s ever so straightforward nature. There was a tinge of pink in his cheeks as he gave you a little smile, “you’ll have such beautiful babies!”

“Mom,” you turned to her with wide eyes as Marcus put his hand on your thigh, tracing gentle, soothing circles onto the material of jeans, “we’ve only been married a few months. There’s no rush and it’s none of your business when and if we do.”

“I’m just saying, honey-”

“Mom,” you groaned and silently pleaded for her to stop. For once in her life she appeared to understand what you were saying, “please.”

“You’re right,” she calmed herself down as she grabbed a glass of wine and quickly finished it, “it’s entirely your decision, when and if. Either way...I’m happy for you, both of you. You truly deserve it. I know it took a long time, but I’m so glad you found your sweet Marcus.”

“Me too,” you agreed, calming down ever so slightly, “he was worth the wait.”

“I had you falling for me from the start,” he teased as he looked at you with the sweetest eyes, and the silliest of grins.

“You’re the worst,” you proclaimed, unable to contain your own laughter, “but I’m glad for that rickety ladder, and the almost lost scarf. Look at what it got me - the best part of my life.”

“I love you,” he whispered as everyone around the table awed at the two of you.

“I love you too,” you replied softly as you turned back to your plate, “now let’s get onto something else. Who all is going to come and pick apples with me for the shop this weekend?”

»»————-　♡　————-«

“I’m sorry about all that,” you sighed, shaking your head at your mother’s antics as you walked hand in hand with Marcus to your favorite little dessert spot. It was late, but not too late, so you’d both decided that a little sweet treat was necessary. And you had something else on your mind that you wanted to tell him as well, and figured it was best to do so when it was just the two of you, “she’s a little much...a lot much.”

“Don’t worry,” he gave your hand a spot squeeze, “you know my mother is just as bad.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t do it in front of half the family and basically ask when we’re going to have planned sex!”

“So we shouldn’t tell her we have sex all the time?” he gently nudged your side as a smile worked its way back onto your face. That was definitely not a lie...like everything between the two of you, the sex was good, very good, and plentiful.

“I’d rather not,” you chuckled, suddenly feeling nervous about sharing your news with him. Naturally the two of you had discussed the possibility of children, and it was something that the two of you both wanted, but were not in a hurry necessarily to get into. You weren’t actively trying to get pregnant, but you weren’t not trying to get pregnant. It would happen when it happened, the two of you had decided, and even the doctor had told you that it would sometimes take a while for it to happen, especially after coming off of birth control.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked after a few moments of silence. You’d been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you’d noticed that he’d been talking this whole, until there was nothing but silence on your end, “you’re thinking much too loudly.”

“I was just…” you tugged on his hand and he stopped, giving you a concerned expression. It wasn’t like you to just fall into silence and shyness. Marcus gave you that soft smile you were a sucker for before reaching you and gently touching your cheek, “you know I love you, right?”

“Of course,” he said fondly, “and I love you, sweetheart. I thought that was kind of obvious at this point, but if I need to keep reminding you, I have no problem with that. I will do all day, every day.”

“I...I’m pregnant,” you blurted it out before you could chicken out and wait for a different time. You wanted to tell him, to share your nervous excitement with him, “I...surprise.”

“You’re pregnant?” he repeated, a million different expressions crossing his features as you nodded, trying to decipher his reaction. Gods, you hoped he wouldn’t be upset, or think it was too soon. While it was true you’d only been Mr. and Mrs. Pike for a few months, you’d been together for several years now. Surely, this wouldn’t be upsetting...but in the moment you were questioning everything, and suddenly felt sick to your stomach, “pregnant.”

“Yes,” you breathed out anxiously, “I found out a few days ago. I just...I was trying to find the right time to tell you. And then my mom...of course she’d ask now, and it just…everything feels so overwhelming and I’m so nervous and scared and I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t want you to be mad or upset…”

“Mad?” he asked incredulously as he took your face in his hands, “I could never, ever be mad at you. Especially not with something like this.”

“You’re not upset?”

“No,” he promised, “I’m happy...so happy. This is wonderful news - the only other day that could compare was the day we met and you fell into my arms...or the day you said yes to marrying me...or our wedding. But this? This is amazing.”

“I just...I didn’t think it would happen so soon,” you admitted, “I just got off birth control and they told me it could take a while, and I thought we’d be fine with waiting, you know? Like it would happen when it would happen. And then boom - pregnant.”

“Everything happens just as it should,” he promised, closing the minuscule gap between your faces and pressing his lips gently to yours, “I love you, so much. Nothing is ever going to change that. Now it’s you, and our baby.”

He slowly slid his hand down to your waist and then over your still nonexistent belly, a small, contented sigh escaping his lips. You leaned into his touch, burying your face into his chest, “I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re excited, I am too. Nervous but excited.”

“And we’ll figure this all out together,” he promised, “you know I’m with you, every step of the way.”

“I’m so...I’m so lucky you’re in my life, Marcus,” you said softly, “you came along right when I needed you, when it was supposed to happen.”

“Like I always say, things happen as they should,” he wrapped his arms around you before kissing the crown of your head, “you have made me happier than I could have ever imagined. Just out of curiosity, how far along are you?”

“Almost nine weeks,” you admitted sheepishly, grinning at him. You could see him doing some quick math in his head, “yeah, I will admit I wasn’t the fastest on the uptake on that one.”

“Nine weeks,” he repeated, “so you got pregnant like right after you got off birth control.”

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly, “it didn’t take much at all. Guess that means we got lucky...or something. Who knows, maybe we’ll end up with a whole little gang of baby Pikes.”

“I’m not opposed to that idea,” his eyes practically lit up at the idea. You didn’t care if you ended up with one or more, as long as they were happy and healthy. But you wouldn’t complain about more either, especially if they took after Marcus. Marcus, the kind hearted, handsome love of your life. You kissed him softly, wishing this moment never had to end, “but we’ll take it as it comes.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “we can do it all together.”

“We’re a team,” he promised, “now, are you the two of you ready for some ice cream?”

“Sounds perfect.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist #SO MUCH FLUFF

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ohmysparkle · 3 years

Text

Spellbound intro III

🌙 Pairing: Hyunjin (Stray Kids) x Reader

🌙 Genre: Dark Fantasy AU, Mystery, smut.

🌙 Teaser Length: 3K

🌙 Warnings: Blood, bodily injury, cannibalism in this chapter. For the series overall, smut, gore, witchcraft, religious themes.

🌙✨Tag List: @xviternity @straykisz @97lovestay (unable to tag)

✧･ﾟ:･ﾟ *✧･ﾟ. ✨ . *: ･ﾟ 🌙 * ･ﾟ✧ * : ･ﾟ✧. ✨･ﾟ.*.✧

It’s smouldering hot, and the once neatly dressed man that stands on the corner of the street has now soiled his white clothes with sweat. The beads shimmer on his dark skin, and he rubs at his brows, to remove the tension as well as to wipe the perspiration before it falls to his eyes.

He’s had enough. If the man he waits for doesn't come to him, then he shall go to look.

The first person to ask is only a few steps away. He stomps past his own - empty - storefront and enters the following shop, the butcher’s shop precisely.

“Eustace!” The sweaty man calls, awaiting for a dimwit in his 20’s with a curly head of hair to appear. The front stall is empty, but somewhere in the back he hears a clang before his call is answered.

“Ji - Jiggly? What can I help you with today?” Eustace replies in confusion.

“Your brother is late.” Says the man, rather matter-of-factly.

“Hmm.” Eustace thinks, for longer than necessary, “He should have been by yours a while ago.”

“Yes - I know that, which is why I’ve come here to tell you he’s late. It’s almost ten o'clock and I’ve yet to finish the filling for the meat pies - they wont be done in time for lunch unless Emerson shows up now.”

“Well…” Eustace thinks. The impatient man pauses at the worrying thought that he, the older of the two brothers, is somehow to inherit the family business. It’s not a match for his mind.

“Eustace - could you call your father to figure out how much longer the delivery will take?”

“Oh, dad’s not at the other shop. Emerson was only going in today to pick up the day’s delivery orders.”

“So you don’t know where he is?”

“I really have no idea.”

“Ah - goodness Eustace, does that not bother you in the least?”

The man storms out from the butcher's place, mumbling and grunting to himself, making his way to the corner once more to see if Emerson has made an appearance. He looks over the bend, down a block to where the road runs along the shore of the lake - nothing.

It’s getting late, and he’s sure his clientele would not appreciate the absence of his meat pies.

The lake, glistening in that cool morning sun…

Just how desperate was he to find Emerson?

“Why do they talk to you like that?” Jiggly asks you, clothed in your usual black, but in thinner fabrics to allow for the breeze to cool you on that one summer day.

“Like what?” You ask him.

“Well - they actually talk for starters. And they’re kinda nice, don’t look like they’ll bite you.” He says, watching in awe as you gently take the hand of each of the ladies in the water as a greeting.

“Jiggly… look. Mermaids, sirens, think of them as regular leg people. Do you walk up to a person on the street and gawk? No. Do you slowly socialize until they are acquainted with you? Yes. Just come down and make small talk from time to time and they’ll get along with you just fine.”

“But don’t they eat people?!”

“Well… they could, but I brought them apples so I guess they’re not really hungry now.”

“Apples? That’s all it took?” He looks at the three wet ladies, sitting upon the small embankment that piled onto the paved sidewalk. “Just apples?”

“Well… fruit in general they tend to like. I always start with apples, nobody has dietary issues with apples. Sometimes I make them some food too.” One of the ladies, with long hair that winds and circles around her body covering her figure along with some small white garments, strokes your calf as if she were petting a cat. It all seemed so bizarre, the water women were always so angry, hissing and growling, baring sharp teeth and nails.

“They’re fond of physical contact once they trust you.” You explain, taking a bite of one of your spare apples. Another lady, a younger, girlish one, pokes at your thigh as you are about to eat more. You roll your eyes and relinquish the apple to her.

“I’m not taking chances.”

“You underestimate how helpful they are. They can go from one side of the lake in a minute, they share everything they hear with one another, they travel the oceans. If you’re on their good side, they might just let you submit some mermail to them.

“Mermail?” Jiggly is in awe, it’s like the two of you were in two different realities with you always saying things that stunned him so.

“Yeah, mer-mail… mermail? Get it? Like, put a message in a bottle and they’ll ship it to wherever you need so long as it's close to a body of water?” You elaborate.

“Yeah, yeah - I know what it is. I just didn’t think it was… real.”

“Ha!” You snort. You turn around to the water ladies, saying something in an older language he does not recognize - they seem to understand it though, and laugh along with you.

“Jiggly… mermail is real.” You deadpan. “It’s not like… a myth or anything.”

“Mail?”

“Yes… well, packages, letters, messages… ”

“What do you pay them with? I thought the mermaids didn’t use money.”

“Eh, they sometimes do. But all it’ll cost you is kindness, or maybe a little favor. They’ll do plenty of little favors if you just give them a little kindness in return. Real nice sense of community they’ve got…”

Kindness…

He had that. What he lacked for this specific task was confidence.

But there they are, just a couple of them. Young girls, in their early teens, wearing some dry cloth sheets over their bodies to break the ever chilling wind, just enjoying the morning sun as they etched pebbles with tools, most likely to make some jewelry, as they sat on the edge of the footpath with their feet hanging over the surface of the lake.

“Ehem… hello?” The man cautiously says, his voice nearly cracking due to the uncertainty. He is at a loss of words, just momentarily, when they return a gaze with their bulbous, unnaturally blue eyes. The irises nearly gone, it was like staring into water itself.

“Hello?” He says, closer this time.

“Hssss.” one of them hisses at him, like a cat, baring her small sharp teeth.

The other one pats her shoulder to silence her, and raises her hand to beckon the man over.

He approaches fearfully.

“Hi.” The calmer girl says, staying put. Her voice is quiet and hoarse, almost whisper-like, just like all the other women who lived in the waters. You had once explained it to him, it’s because they were sometimes unused to speaking above water, and they often had accents of old languages, now that newer ones weren’t quite common below.

“I’m Jiggy - the baker.” He says trying to be as personable as possible. “You might remember my friend… Dr. Nemo.”

The girl nods politely. Good.

“She told me you might be able to do me a little favor. If you want I can make you anything for lunch in return.” He was trying to smile, in a friendly neighborly way, not in a creepy man in his thirties way.

“Lunch?” The polite fish girl asks.

“Yes!” He sings, almost like some character from a children's program.

“Fish?”

“No, I don’t carry fish.” Did he ruin it? Did they only eat fish?

“Pork? Bacon.” She says again.

“Yeesss…” He does his best friendly-dinosaur impression.

“Yes. Bacon.” She looks at the girl that had hissed, and she nods in return after a brief moment of silent conversation. “What… do you need?”

“Well… you might know the man that drives the meat truck.”

“Stupid man?” The polite girl says in her funny voice.

“Yeeesss… the stupid man.” Clever girl. “Could you ask around and find out where he is? He’s late and I need him to bring me my cuts of meat.”

“Where? Where do we look?” It was a good question… Emerson only delivers between two neighborhoods.

“Eastbend by the Shore!” He points to the area further up along this same side of the lake. Over there the houses are smaller, climbing up the sloping hills. It's cooler from all the trees, and that is where the slaughterhouse of Edwin & Sons lies - and where Emerson should be stalling.

“Right over there!” Jiggly points, nearly seeing the white roof of the taller building among the quaint brick houses. “Right over - AHH!” Something in his hand pinches every bit of his attention.

Chomp!

He looks down to the pinching and blunt pain on his hand - it was the hissing girl biting him! Latched on to one of his fat fingers with her sharp teeth - the audacity!

He tries to pull his hand away, and it's like he can hear it, a rip. The girl's pale, veiny face is suddenly painted by a splatter of blood that she’s made the flesh release, gushing from his index finger, an arc of red liquid painting a line from her mouth to her forehead. Her furious blue eyes, still trained on his hand, almost satisfied at the outpour.

“Aaaaaaaaahh!” He shrieks, a long piercing howl.

The polite girl begins to scold the other, Jiggly can hardly comprehend, but when she smacks her companion across the head it does not make the hold of her jaw relent. It only makes his skin drag further from his bone.

If he moves back she’ll rip it off, if he pulls closer she might latch her bite further up. He is paralized, his entire body feels pins and needles from the panic, but it begins and ends with his one, bitten finger.

Smack! The polite girl smacks the other right across the forehead, one last time and now the girl lets her jaw slack. The man holds his hand up, shrieks once more as he sees his bone beneath the torn and bleeding skin. Even against his dark fingers, the blood is so red and so bright, so so bright. No translucency at all, just a solid red, redder than anything he had seen before. But there, a peek of something pale within the digit - and he could feel it; the bone.

The girls bicker and argue.

“Fucking fishy!” He cries at her.

“Lunch!” The bloodied girl cries. She goes back to smacking her lips, picking at her teeth with her tongue as if there were flesh stuck between her teeth. There probably was.

“It - it’s the baker! Come help!” a man yells behind him, having been attracted by the screams. There is a clamor of feet approaching the scene.

Jiggly turns, men approach him from behind, the girls swat and slap at each other in front of him, his finger bleeds.

“Jiggly! What happened?” He recognizes the voice. It's the captain of the cadets from this side of the lake, a handsome man that seems to eat too many of his croissants for the size of his waist, one of his very best customers. But alas, here he is, running as he does daily, with all of the young recruits in training panting behind him as he stands there with barely a mist of a sweat on his face.

As he turns to face the handsome man, he can hear a growl from one of the girls behind him.

“My fi-finger.” He chokes out, an airy whimper making up his words. ”Hal… She bit my finger.” he says, pointing at her bloody face with his bloody hands.

The man is of the unflinching kind, bats his eyes as he pieces it all together, but he doesn’t react with any repulsion.

“Does anyone have a clean towel?” He yells at the cadets. Someone hands it to him and he expertly wraps Jiggly’s hand. “You all, keep going. I’m taking him to the doctor.”

“Doctor…” Jiggly ponders, too distracted by his bleeding finger.

“Are you feeling lightheaded?” Hal questions. “I’m taking you over to your friend, Dr. Nemo.”

It’s a few blocks of his dazed stumbling. He didn't notice what happened to the fish girls, or the cadets, or how long it took him to get there. All he knows is that suddenly he is at the steps of your clinic, the big dark blue door looking over him and Hal firmly holding his side..

And as if you sensed it, even before Hal could let go of the cloth he pressed to his hand to knock, you open the door. There, above them, in your usual dark and neat attire.

“What happened?” You inquire.

“Doc! Jiggly’s had an accident.” Hal explains.

You usher for him to come inside, Jiggly feels as if he levitates as the muscular, but gentle, man guides him up.

“Just sit him down somewhere.” You say absentmindedly, grabbing things from the many cabinets and shelves. “Caro! We have a patient.” You shout for your apprentice. The girl would usually come down sooner.

“Yes Miss Nemo!” She politely replies, eager to attend however she can. Until she sees who it is and lets out a gasp. “Jiggles!” She calls in awe, seeing his bloodstained clothes.

“What happened to him?” You ask Hal, seeing that Caro has now taken to applying pressure to Jiggly’s hand.

“I think one of the younger water women bit him…” He ponders. He stands a little too close to you. You can basically smell him, the sheen of perspiration… his dark red locks dampened and slicked back, the muscles in his neck and arms exposed so handsomely.

Focus!

“Siren or mermaid?” You ask.

“I think… mermaid.” Hal replies, unsure.

“Did she have the weird eyes?” You ask.

“Her face was covered in blood, I didn’t really notice if -”

“Yes!” Jiggly shouts from his seat at your small breakfast table. “Horrible eyes, horrible child.”

“Child?” you purse your lips, Caro even lets out a giggle. “How bad could she have bitten you?”

As you set the items on the table beside him, Caro slowly unwraps the bloody rag… and - it’s quite awful.

“Ha!” You laugh, a hearty laugh, Caro eventually joins in. “A child did this to you?!”

“She was feral and - uuaaahh!” He whines again. You had taken advantage of his distraction to pour antiseptic onto his wound, your apprentice dabs at it with some clean linens.

“Shouldn't we put him on one of the tables?” Hal quips.

“Eh, this seems pretty basic. Right Caro?” The girl doesn't reply, being hyper focused on her task, the bloody hand, the bloody rag, the bloody linen. “Caro, I said; this seems pretty basic, right?” you say more sternly.

She blinks back to reality, “Yes Miss, quite simple.”

“See? Just a few stitches and some healing goo and he’ll be good.” You tell Hal, placing a hand on his chest, quite firm and… toned, to push him back gently. You needed the space, he was too close for comfort, as usual.

“Miss… stitches or, do you think we could use the good stuff?” Caro suggests… ah yes, expensive magical healing ointments.

“Fine… just a little should be enough.” You conceded, after all he was the most popular baker on the lake, and you weren’t sure how happy the townsfolk would be with his being out of commission.

Hal once more, is upon you… it’s a bad habit of his that you’ve tried to quell. And he is never subtle, which you wouldn’t particularly mind if he weren’t so keen on doing so in public.

“You know, I’ve gotten a letter from my cousin.” He says, “She sends her regards, inquires about you.”

“Your cousin, the demon hunter?” Jiggly buds in, and for a moment, you wish to chastise Hal for his lack of prudence. “How does Doc know her? Isn’t she halfway around the world?”

He stutters, not knowing how to answer Jiggly’s question. How indeed does he explain to Jiggly that you are acquainted with his cousin, who is a local legend but has not returned to the area in quite a few years, that you know her despite never having been in town at the same time as you?

He regrets his insolence. How could he have said that so easily?

“I don't. We don't know each other at all.” you reply, with a special and strange tone.

“But he just said you did.” Jiggly argues.

“No he didn’t.” A little more charmingly.

“He didn’t?” Caro tenses as Jiggly resists, but she continues to treat his wound.

“He didn’t. He hasn’t mentioned anything about his cousin at all.” It takes a moment for your words to sink in, but slowly, they do.

“That’s right… Hal hasn’t said anything about that.”

“Precisely Jiggly, he hasn’t said anything at all.” You reply contently once you see him nod with a distant daze in his eyes. As soon as Jiggly’s attention is diverted by your apprentice, you look back to Hal.

“You lack prudence.” You sternly whisper, making sure Jiggly is unaware. “Leave - and make sure he gets home.”

“I - forgive me. It slipped, and I -”

“Don’t make any mention of it to him - ever again. Not to anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“You are the only person in this damn place that knows, and I guarantee you do not want to be responsible for it getting out.” You cut him off before he can respond. “Caro, are you done?”

“Yes Miss, just about!”

“Good. Jiggly, Hal will take you home. Let your hand rest for today but you should be fine tomorrow.”

Caro quickly ushers them out, and once the door is closed behind them, she turns to you.

“Do you think it worked?”

“Of course it did - do you doubt me?” You ask her, almost displeased.

“It's just… you haven’t done anything like that in a long time.”

“Girls like me - like us - don’t get rusty.” You remind her, finishing her sentence with a tap to the tip of her nose.

At the doorstep of your clinic Jiggly feels confused, almost dreamy, as if he only had the faintest impression of what had just occurred during this particular morning.

#hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin #stray kids smut #hyunjin au #strange devotion skz collab

34 notes · View notes

delu-jean · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐔𝐩 𝐓𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮

(Jea x fem!/reader) -> Angst -> 4.2k

XII > XIV

You and Reiner picked some flowers. They lay in one of the baskets you brought. They sat beautifully, making you reminisce the night Jean had given you that violet. Though these flowers were a lot larger, and the hue was more vibrant, the meaning behind that violet shone brighter than those characteristics combined. You grinned at such a thought, while Reiner kept on climbing the tree.

You felt bad since you weren’t helping him gather the apples. Someone needed to hold the basket, making sure they didn’t touch the ground. Since the tree was becoming more barren as the years passed, the less fruit it would bear. So, you had to make sure no apples went to waste. Still, watching him do all of that hard work made you feel guilty. He reassured you (before), saying that it was better for him to actually do something right (since he trampled a lot of plants when picking flowers). So you let him be. Watching as each fruit fell.

“It’s been a while...do you remember this place, Y/n?”

“Of course I do…” you then gazed at the scenery in front of you. Being reminded of that one moment, that last moment you had felt such peace in Marely. The moment where Bertholdt had scurried to get you, the moment where you never thought that things would take such a turn.

You looked at Reiner to see the guilt which struck him. Not only that, but the guilt then crept onto you. That peace was one which could never come back, along with Bertholdt himself. You felt burdened to say the least. Knowing how his best friend had died, yet not being allowed to tell him (since Jean’s cover would blow). It saddened you knowing how much weight was on his shoulders. Never knowing what had truly happened, but instead, escaping with survivor’s guilt.

“Ah, two coming!”

“Got it!” you caught them in your basket. Time passed as more apples stacked. He then decided to break the silence once again.

“Do you ever wish that we could be kids again?”

“Of course I do,” he nods in agreement.

“If I could change one thing...just one of the many things in our childhood...it would be the fate we held in the military. Wishing things could have been different, and that you all could’ve been here,” you noticed how he didn’t say “we,” but instead said “you.” That meant he had wished you were all here, but not necessarily himself. You were going to question him, until he spoke yet again.

“For Bertholdt to see such a sight. To see how grown the both of us have become, and...to see his family...just once more. Maybe even confess to Annie if he had the guts to,” you saw the pained expression he had which made you feel the same.

“Bertholdt would be happy for us, especially since we’ve grown so much with the time given.”

---

“Yeah...I guess so,” he then picked the last of the apples and came down. In the process, one of the better apples fell, cracking with the contact of the ground. Funny enough, it reminded you of Bertholdt. Since he unfortunately was one, if not, the sweetest apple. One who just had to fall far from the tree above.

You both stepped into your house. Feeling tired as your arms limped, along with Reiner’s. You started to look around, wanting to see if Jean was at home. Lurking through the bedroom, and even checking your closet. Unfortunately (for you) he wasn’t. It’s almost as if he was gone with the wind. You felt a little bummed as Reiner stepped into the kitchen. Placing the baskets down, and washing his hands (readying himself for the session yet to come). He then asked you in a loud tone, hoping you would hear.

“What are you doing Y/n?”

“Oh, I’m looking for a pot!” you shouted back.

“In your bedroom?”

“Haha, yeah,” you were still feeling upset...but then remembered that you were the person who told him to leave (secretly regretting it qwq).

You then walked over to Reiner, ready to help him make the pie. You both washed the apples, peeled, and chopped them. Reiner was a little klutzy with the knife, handling it like a weapon in battle. You found it quite funny, and guided his hands. Hoping he wouldn’t cut himself. To your surprise he didn’t, and ended up seasoning the fruit with different spices, sugars, and ingredients. When that was done, you put him in charge of kneading the crust. You (of course) mixed and measured the ingredients, and after doing so, told him to be gentle with the dough. Hoping his rough hands would maintain, and not ruin such a delicacy.

You started to heat the filling as you monitored him from afar. He really was a quick learner, yet still needed to work on some of his skills. You wondered how Jean would’ve made the pie. If he would’ve added his own flare, or crust designs. Just thinking about it made you excited, hoping you both could someday. Reiner then started to roll, and place the crust. You both then finished your tasks. Thrilled with the results of your hard work.

“Phew, thanks for your help Reiner.”

“No problem. That was...a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

“Mhm...oh yeah! I left some filling here for you. I tasted it and thought it wasn’t sweet enough, but I kept it that way since you know...Bertholdt preferred ‘natural’ sugars,” you smirked as Reiner tried a spoonful.

“Haha, yup. Reminds me of Bertholdt. Also it's really tasty.”

“That’s good! Okay, let’s put it away now,” you put both the filling, and crust away. Letting both rest separately so you could bake them tomorrow (before meeting the families).

“I’ll pop it in the oven before leaving.”

“Sounds good. Thanks for letting me help...or contribute at least. Sorry if I was a nuisance.”

“Haha no, thanks for helping in general. Two pairs of hands are better than one, and you gave loads of help,” he then smiled, slipping his coat and shoes on.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

“No, I insist. I’ll come instead. You’ve been walking me home a LOT as of recently. Let me come get ya instead,” he seemed hesitant when you answered. Not sure as to why, you tried asking hoping you could hear his reasons. But instead he pestered you, insisting on grabbing you instead. Now you could understand Jean (in some way). Not being able to understand him directly...was making you feel frustrated. Not only that, but you weren’t able to understand why he was acting like that.

Regardless, you eventually gave it. Though you found it suspicious, you decided to say no more. Not wanting to add tension, and instead, respecting his choice.

“Okay fine. Get me near ten-ish?”

---

“Alright, sounds good.”

You got up, did your morning routine, got dressed, and had a filling meal. Each year, you and Reiner didn’t wear anything formal. Rather, you both stuck with a simple semi-formal outfit (didn’t want to be too formal, nor too casual). You never wore the same clothing, but rather, switched it up while trying to stay coordinated. This year, you decided to match in white, and beige. You wore a dress shirt, your sleeves puffed, filled with lace, two ribbons (on each side), a beige skirt which reached your legs, and a straw hat. While Reiner wore a beige cardigan, beige slacks, a dress shirt, along with a fleece vest. Though it was a semi-hot day, it was hotter than cold. So he decided to hold his cardigan for the majority of the time. He also brought a black leather watch, and a brown fedora (type of hat). You decided not to go all out since you wanted your interactions to seem civil. Nothing up top to make the families feel comfortable.

You first went to the Galliard’s. Porco was home and didn’t seem happy with Reiner being there. Though there was some awkward tension, Reiner did his best to ignore any dirty glances. Trying to remember this visit wasn’t about Porco, but instead, Marcel.

“You know, Marcel was a boy with less aspirations for himself, but instead for the people around him,” Mr. Galliard stated.

Last night, Jean didn’t make his way back. You were a tad sad. Not being able to sleep with him there...felt unnatural. You really didn’t feel at ease in your own home. Constantly wondering where he was, if he was okay, or if he really had business. You honestly weren’t sure, but regardless, tried sleeping since today was important.

“I never saw my son as a child, rather, the embodiment of an adult. One with the thoughts, and responsibility of a grown man. I felt, and still do feel guilty though...he never got the chance to be one. To experience the childhood he should have.”

“Mhm,” you nodded after he said that.

“I truly regret not making him live the life of a child, and it pains me that he was instead forced to be an adult,” his wife then put a hand on her husband’s. Giving him a stare out of grief, yet relief as she then eyed the both of you.

“If my son had seen where you both are, he would be proud. He would be amazed with the work you both put in, and know that we are as well. We’ve seen the work Reiner puts in with Porco, doing his best to serve Marley with their titans. Along with you, Y/n. As you encourage and guide the Eldians to be the best they can. Both in the battlefield, and themselves personally. We truly are indebted, and hope you two will continue in the work you do for as long as possible.”

“Ah I see, I’m glad our efforts have paid off. I have to agree though, Marcel truly was a great person-”

“Tch,” Porco snarled as his mother then elbowed him. Reiner then continued to talk. Telling the three about the gift chosen, how you both thought it would suit Marcel, and who he was. Not just a comrade, but a dear friend as well. The pendant shone beautifully, and had a glint just like Marcel’s. The framing around the jewel caved around like it was a crown. Smooth, and precise edges, along with a clean finishing. The back also had an engraving of his name, along with leather straps which could detach. Framed in the box it came with and accompanied by two letters.

“You can read them whenever you would like. Although, I do recommend doing so when alone,” you told them, and then made your way to the door. Porco decided to escort you out. Though both you, and Reiner expected a cold gesture, he instead gave you an unexpected one.

“Thanks...for the gift. It means a lot.”

---

“Yes of course, no need to thank us,” Reiner responded for the door to then shut.

You both went to Annie’s house, hoping her father would be home. To your dismay...he wasn’t there...like always (on that day specifically). You tried knocking the door yet again, but to your “shock,” there’s no response. You see...on this day specifically, he refused to see either of you. He knew that your gestures were filled with good intent, but just...couldn’t bring himself to do it. He would always see you both whenever else, knowing that the topic wouldn’t arise.

“Let’s get going...Mrs. Hoover is expecting us.”

---

“Got it...Y/n.”

Still, it saddened you to say the least. The poor man was so hurt, and he couldn’t bring up the topic. Though you wanted to console him, even with the time given, it seemed like it wasn’t going to happen. You placed the box on his doorstep, leaving a note telling him of the gift, and why you chose it. Hoping he would keep it with him, and store it safely.

“Ah Y/n, Reiner! I haven’t seen you both in a while! Come, come inside!” Bertholdt’s mother said, for the both of you to enter their house. Pulling out chairs while her husband did the same. His father then started to brew tea, while the three of you (Reiner, you, and Mrs. Hoover) sat down.

“How have you been?”

“And I as well,” Mr. Hoover then placed the tea. The two lovers smiled at each other, and then sat beside one another. You were glad they weren’t in tears, nor upset. His parents (surprisingly) seemed to have taken his death unexpectedly. Not as something light hearted, nor sympathetic, but rather...very “well” in your opinion. They mourned when you had returned with no trail of Bertholdt, but got themselves together. Making good of his passing instead of sulking.

Reiner then pulled out the basket of apples, handing it to them. While you showed the bouquet full of flowers. You also held the pie in your hands while his mother went to grab a vase.

“It looks lovely Y/n, I’m assuming you used the apples?”

“Oh, I’ve been well,” you responded.

“Yes ma'am. Bertholdt’s favourite.”

“Speaking of my dear son, my one and only child… Oh how he loved such delicacies. I wish I made him more when he was with us. Not only that, but he was one himself, and I wished we would’ve handled him with more care. Being more fragile with such a thing….”

You see, his parents were really invested into the whole “Honorary Marleyin,” and “warrior candidate” events. They just wanted their son to exceed, and to know that he could go above and beyond. But in said process, instead of doing that...it gave the opposite effect. Making him feel less if anything. He knew they loved him, but their encouragement...seemed more discouraging to Bertholdt if anything. Disregarding his feelings, and thoughts to the opposition, convincing him that he was strong enough and could do it.

Never considering his doubts, nor fears. Instead, brushing them off and telling him he could excel. There was no comfort whatsoever, instead, expectations and tension which were burdened to him...and him alone.

“That was probably why he was so timid...because of how we treated him…. I truly do regret such a thing, but I was relieved to hear how he was a great and loving person to the both of you. Even if we didn’t get what “we wanted” from him, he received the things that he wanted for himself. Pushing himself to his limits, and persevering...without us.”

“Yes, he truly was an amazing person. The closest friend I’ve ever had,” Reiner said with a sincere tone. The father then stepped in, saying:

“Bertholdt would’ve loved to see how you both had grown to be so mature, understanding, and great in general.”

“Since he loved you both so dearly, he also would’ve been glad at the decision you two are making, about becoming one. Also, congratulations on that. I hope you both have the happiest of times while you can. Though, I won’t lie, I wished Y/n were the one to marry Bertholdt (she said jokingly). But even so, I’m happy for both of you. Reiner, you’ve got yourself one lucky lady, and Y/n, you a lucky man.”

“Yeah...I guess so,” Reiner responded.

---

You then thought to yourself. Would Bertholdt actually be content with the engagement? Though his mother had thought “yes,” you had thought “no.” He probably would’ve opposed, saying that the marriage would’ve been pointless, and unsettling. That being the case, his opinion gave you yet another reason for your opposition.

You both were done for the day, and were relieved for that. You were glad that two out of the three were there, liked the gifts given, and that you were able to show respect towards your comrades. So being that, you both were now walking. Yes, your destination would be home, but you weren’t sure as to what detours would be made. Both you and Reiner actually. One thing you were sure about, was that the man beside you seemed frustrated. Even though he should've relaxed since your tasks had just finished.

“Y/n, I don’t want to assume...but…were you the person who might’ve leaked things?”

“Oh...no. It wouldn’t make sense for me to, in all honesty…”

But then at the same time, she might’ve assumed so because of how long you were taking. Thinking you must’ve made a decision (by now) and just didn’t want to be vocal about it. Of course, that wasn’t the case and you made it clear to Reiner. He then decided to switch up the conversation, trying to avert from the unwanted thought.

“I forgot to ask, but were you able to get home safely that night?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“That means...oh gosh,” that’s when you both realized that the only person who could’ve, and would’ve done so...was his mother. You also remembered what Alexandra said, about his mother being ecstatic about the engagement. That point secured your thoughts. She was probably very excited, and had no malicious intent involved. She just wanted the best for her son, and you as well (thinking Reiner was the best for you). Regardless, it kind of annoyed you. Especially since you hadn’t made the decision, and she inferred you had instead of asking/confirming.

“That’s good.”

“And you?”

“Yeah, I did. I walked Gabi home first, then made my way.”

“Ahh I see,” yout both walked further for him to ask:

“Where were you the morning after? I thought you’d be at HQ, like you always are.”

“Ah well…” you couldn’t tell him about Jean, so instead, told him about Alexandra.

“Well, a friend of mine came over. We caught up and….” you couldn’t say that you were talking about him (his looks to be more specific), so instead, brought up the first few things which came to mind.

“She um, congratulated me.”

“Oh really?” he seemed glad and you went on.

“Not only that, but that most of the town knows…and that your mother seems ecstatic.”

“Oh no…” You then saw a burdensome look on his face.

“Haha yeah. She also asked if I had a wedding dress, or ring. Which I found kind of funny-” He immediately cut in.

“So what was your response?”

“That I have neither.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hm?...the real question is, what do you mean Reiner?” you then stared at the gentleman, awaiting for his answer.

“Oh...it’s just that...you do have one.”

“What?..”

“Not a dress of course, but a ring.”

He then Proceeded to tell you that he did have one ready. He felt guilty knowing that you had told her “no.” He thought that maybe you had felt bad, being that your answer was “no,” even though he did have one prepared. After all, ladies did take marriage as a big deal. And even though it was one out of friendship, he didn’t want to make you feel left out. Being considerate of such a big event.

Though you could’ve (and most likely would’ve) married someone after Reiner, it still was your first wedding. And your first anything should always be taken seriously.

“If I knew you were going to be bombarded with the other ladies bothering you...I would’ve given it sooner,” he fished a box out of his pocket, and handed it to you.

You then opened it to see a fairly modest design. It was a simple gold band. One with a centered jewel in an oval shape. There were also two other smaller stones which accompanied the ring, and the band sat in a black, velvet box. It was a very beautiful ring, and Reiner could tell you liked it (based on how you sat in awe). He was glad he got such a ring, knowing how simple you could be, and that it seemed to suit your personality.

“I’m sorry for not being able to get you better, but I hope that it’ll be enough for you to show other ladies. And hopefully...you don’t feel the need to humble yourself when with others,” you could feel the sincerity coming from him, and were thankful. But...you ultimately just...couldn’t accept such a gesture.

“I’m sorry Reiner...but I can’t accept this.”

“Oh, why is that?”

“I just...can’t,” he then took the hint, and instead asked:

“Is it because you aren’t sure yet?” you then nodded, not giving him anymore context. He also did the same. Nodding and letting you be.

“But I insist...you should keep it.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Well haha, my mother will pester me less. But of course, only if you want. If not, I can take it back. I understand your decisions, and will respect them for when you’re ready.”

---

“You know what...sure, why not,” you didn’t want to be rude, and you also wanted to be less of a burden.

After receiving the box, Reiner does what he thinks is best. He shields you from others on your walk through town. Although they found his gestures quite adorable, he thought the opposite, but was glad there was no attention regarding the ring. Covering the box made you tense less, and his efforts were greatly appreciated. He understood the townspeople's intentions, but didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.

“Hey reiner...when it comes to deciding, how much time do you think I have?”

“According to what my mother said...maybe a couple months. That is...if you want to have a um...child of course. If not, really whenever. As long as I don’t die,” he chuckled and you nod, laughing yourself.

“I see, well...I’ll be sure to relay my decision whenever.”

You took notice of how tired Reiner was. His eyes drowsy, posture limp, and in general, was very out of energy. You decided to halt, stopping in front of him. Making his pace lessen as you stood still.

“Why do you look so tired? I know it’s not because of any drills,” you laughed as he looked to the side.

“Don’t worry too much about it...it’s nothing.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Come on Reiner...tell me! I feel like I play a part in it…. I’m not sure as to what, but yeah,” he then looked back at you. Though he contemplated his thoughts, he decided to be honest.

“Okay fine. As of recently, I've been pushed around by my mother, a couple elders, along with the civilians, and troops in general. Meeting whenever my mother arranged things, taking the time to accept gifts, being congratulated, and having conversations even when I don’t have the time. Though it should be fun, it’s really not. Especially when the warriors are on my ass for being late, and then I show up to meetings with a bunch of gifts. At first they were okay with everything, but as time progressed, they were uh...pissed with my appearances.”

You felt bad. Your delay was really taking a toll on Reiner, yet you felt like you couldn’t give him your answer. The pressure was immense, you would be letting people down, and the Braun’s would be in an awkward (gossip-ish) position after your rejection. But then again, you didn’t want to marry him anymore. You had Jean now, plus, Reiner was only doing his best since he wanted to make things right. Being your friend, trying to help build a future that might satisfy you when he’s gone. Imagining you living alone without benefits he could’ve provided, made him feel guilty. He already put you through so much, and although this wasn’t a huge step to redemption, it was one skid closer.

But honestly, you cared less (for the marriage, not his efforts). If you said no, the entire thing would be off his plate. Yet...you felt bad seeing how much effort he put in. You saying no would mean all of that effort being drawn to waste. You then decided to ask him what he would do with both responses. Towards both rejection, and the acceptance of his proposal.

“Reiner...what would you do if I said yes?”

“To my proposal?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I would marry you,” he smirked at such an obvious question. Not making fun of you, rather, just pointing out the obvious.

“Oh...yeah haha. Anything else though?”

“Maybe have a child...I mean of course, like I said...it’s up to you” seemed embarrassed to bring up the subject, which made you laugh.

“Okay...then what would you do if I said no?”

“Honestly I’m not sure, but, if that’s what will make you happy, so be it. If you want to love someone else, I won't stop you. If you want to love yourself, and you alone, I will support you. No matter what you do...I just want to be a good friend is all. Make up for all I’ve done.”

Just through that, you saw how serious Reiner was when taking this path to redemption. Though, not in the way you would have both envisioned, he was truly trying his best. Being a good friend, and doing his best to get you what, and where you needed to go. You were very touched by his sincerity, and words in general. Reiner was truly a great friend. Though questionable at times, and it would take time for you to wholeheartedly trust him, he was getting there. And would probably at one point.

“Thanks Reiner.”

“No need to. I’m content either way, so it’s really up to you.”

XII > XIV

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alakema · 3 years

Text

ds Dreammare :Calm

Dreamswap belongs to onebizarrekai

Pre-apple incident, trans male Nightmare that didn’t come out yet.

Dream’s point of view:

It is way too calm to be normal. It’s already noon, and at this time of day, my little sister should be awake by now, causing a monstruous ruckus for everyone to hear. Only silence greets me. I frown, concern growing steadily inside of me. I go to her room, to see if she needs anything. She’s not there… Did she leave before I came back? But she is trustworthy enough to stick a message on the table. She knows I would worry about her otherwise. Maybe I accidentally overlooked it? As I step out of her room, I notice mine’s door is slightly ajar. Weird, I’m certain I closed it this morning. Cautious, I open the door completely. To see Nightmare in my bed, asleep. Okay, that was unexpected. Annoyed, I’m about to start a lecture about her laziness, about how she has her own bed, when a whimper stops me. ‘She’s having a nightmare.’

My sister toss and turn a few time, whimpering and shivering, and I don’t know how to feel about that; she never showed me this side of her. She hates showing weakness. I shake her a bit, hoping it will be enough. It isn’t: she still won’t wake up. My next attempt is a bit more forceful.

“AAAH!”

Is the only sound my little sibling can make before she falls to the floor. Satisfied with the result, I wait for her to notice me. When our eyes meet, she duck her head, before returning her sight on me and exclaiming :

“Yo! What are you doing here? -… What am I doing in my own room? - Fair point… The sunlight blinded me, so I decided your room was better.”

That’s an utter lie, my room has its shutter wide-open, and the sun is hitting full force. I make my disappointment over her lie clear. I try to pry the answer out of her, but she won’t budge and manage to weasel out of this. I’d like to know what happened to her, but I know forcing her to anything will only result in us fighting.

“*sigh*. I’ll prepare you a breakfast, get ready for the day.”

Or what’s left of it, I precise silently. Guess I won’t be back to the tree as soon as I wanted. The shelves are full, I wonder what I could make for her? An omelet, maybe. And bacon, too would be good for her health.

I tried to subtly ask again what the bad dream was about. She wouldn’t budge. As much as it is frustrating, it worries me she can’t find it in herself to tell me what’s wrong. Maybe something happened with the villagers. Again. No, the villagers would have told me if she did a prank or had done things she shouldn’t have. And Nighty is not as sneaky as she thinks she is; I would have noticed all the materials she would have tried to gather under my nose (and GOD can she be creative about that). Maybe they did something to her in retaliation?... No, that’s stupid, they might get angry at her, but they aren’t cruel. They would never get physical at her. Nightmare even admitted that she mistook her fall for a shove.

I just have to stay calm and be there for her when she’s ready. I’ll support her the best I can. After all, despite her pranks and her mischievous attitude, she’s my precious baby sister, and I’ll always be her big brother.

Nightmare’s point of view:

Great. Just perfect. Dream found me during one of… Those times. I didn’t meant to worry him, honest ! I just… I didn’t think he would come home so soon: he has his ‘obligations’ to look after, and he’s so rigorous to be perfect to them that he would take his sweet ass time… I shouldn’t be in the way, or the villagers will make me pay. With how my body is healing right now, I can’t have a repeat of yesterday. It wouldn’t bode well for me. Especially if I have to keep that from my overbearing mother-hen of a brother. He may think he had been tactful, but trustfully, he can’t hide the pain in his eyes each time I stay silent about what the nightmare was about. It’s horrible what I’m doing to him, but he wouldn’t believe me if I said what happened. He never did before. If he were to discover I got hurt, he would force me to tell the ‘truth’, and I would be forced to lie because ‘the villagers didn’t do it Nightmare, you’re just trying to make them look bad in my eyes. You don’t know how utterly disappointed I am in you right now. Now, if you tell what really happened, you won’t be punished as much.’ Moron. What do I find in you, sometime I wonder.

We are back to the tree, together, but I can’t find it in myself to talk a mountain like I’m used to, or be annoying. I didn’t even climb the tree (Dream doesn’t need to know I actually can’t. My ankle is swollen and it’s a miracle I have hidden it this far). My older brother steals glances here and now. ‘Good luck buddy, I ain’t revealin’ anythin’.’ I love him, I really do. But I’m not blind to the favoritism he has toward the villagers over me. Toward anything over me.

“ Nightmare, I wanted to kno- - Please don’t. - What? - Please don’t talk. I just… Want to embrace this moment, just you and me.”

… Okay, what?! Why did I say that ? This doesn’t sound like me at all. Fuck. Oh shit. What do I do now? He’s gonna think I’m weird, and with what happened this morning -afternoon…whatever!- he’s not letting this go for a while. Great… Oh fuck my life. I turn my head away so that he won’t see my embarrassment.

“Is tha-… Are you sure? You can always go home if you don’t feel well. - I feel fantastic, thank you very much!”

We spend the rest of the day in quiet and calm. It’s been so long since the last time we were together for that much period of time. I can’t stop the smile on my face, and looking at Dream, he can’t either. I look at my room and my grin wither. Of course, my sibling noticed:

“Nightmare, is everything okay?”

I don’t say anything for a while, debating the best course of action.

“Dreamy, can I… No, it’s stupid, forget it. Good night!”

But before I can escape, he takes a hold of my wrist and turn me around. His eyes shine in the dark, and give a kind warm to our surrounding. He doesn’t speak, gathers me in his arms like a kitten before entering his room. He places me on the bed.

“Stay here, I’ll go get your pajamas. I’ll help with the nightmares, I promise.”

Once we are both ready for the night, he takes me in his arms again, before shielding us with a thick cover. My blush glows in the dark, and I’m thankful he closed his eyes. I never thought I would get to sleep next to my crush. He falls asleep before I do. My heart is racing against my ribcage, I don’t know how to make it silent. I look Dream inhaling slowly, not sure if I should go back to my room or not. But soon, I drift comfortably into a deep slumber.

After that, everything is peaceful, quiet and calm.

Next chapter : https://alakema.tumblr.com/post/646041076608729088/ds-dreammare-burn

#dreamswap #ds nightmare #ds dream #dreamswap nightmare #dreamswap dream #dreammare #ds dreammare #dreamswap dreammare #sweammare #pre-apple incident #trans male nightmare #but he didn't come out yet

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your-denki-kun · 3 years

Text

Wild

Katsuki x Reader

You grew up in the wild and are going to teach 3-A some basic skill for a week. After the week of harsh training they have a week off, in which Katsuki goes to you every day.

Just some random fluff. That’s it

~3rd person pov.~

''Hey uncle Shouta.'' You say in a tired voice as you approach your tired uncle.

''Hey, you ready to teach these headaches some outdoor skills?'' He asks you.

''I guess.'' You shrug.

Shouta Aizawa is your uncle. Your mom was his sister, but she died a few years ago. You don't see Shouta often, seeing as you live in the woods. Your mom and dad lived there before they got you. Your dad went hunting one day when you where five and didn't come back. Your mom and you grew very close after that and the only male figure you have is Shouta.

He pays for your phone bills and anything else you need, seeing you don't have a job or anything. The only thing he asks in return is that you teach his class some basic skill for in the wild. You agreed, seeing you grew up in them and rule over the wolves there, so it's safe for them to train in the wild.

Right now it's that time again. For a week you'll train them and they'll have to listen to you. You try hiding it, but you actually like teaching the students. It gives you a chance to socialize with people your age. Right now you're going to teach 3-A, a class full of eighteen-year-old students, so they're your age.

''Lets get to it then. Wait out here until I tell you to come in.''

You nod at Shouta as he walks into the loud classroom. You can hear him silence them just by entering, causing you to snicker to yourself. You can hear him explain what they'll be doing over the week before calling you in. You open the big door and walk into the classroom to see everyone looking at you. You walk over to Shouta to see him sleeping on the ground.

''Of course you're sleeping on the damned floor again.'' You sigh before turning to the class. ''Hello, I'm (y/n) (l/n). Shouta is my uncle and I'll be teaching you guys some useful skills for when you are in the wild. Any questions?''

Everyone puts up their hands, causing you to groan internally. The introduction is going to take a long while. Scanning over the class you frown. Only three people didn't raise their hand. An ash blond guy, a half white half red haired guy and a purple haired girl. You shrug and point at a green haired girl.

''My names Tsu, kero. How old are you?''

''I'm eighteen. You.'' You say, pointing at a blue haired guy.

''Why aren't you in school?''

''Well, I grew up in the wild. That's also why I'm teaching you guys. My parents home schooled me and uncle Shouta provided the books needed. I'm just as smart as all of you. The only thing is that I don't have a degree. You.'' You point at a red haired guy.

''What's your quirk?''

''I can communicate with animals. I have it from my father, he could communicate with animals too. You.'' You point at an eager green haired boy.

''How does it work? Does it include all animals? Do you speak their language or does it sound like normal talking to you? How do you activate it?'' And so he keeps on muttering.

''Izuku Midoriya. Uncle was right. You can analyze my quirk later. Any other questions.....You.''

''Yaoyorozu, you said that your father could, as in past tense. Does this mean he's not around anymore?'' She asks, voice formal.

''He went hunting one day and didn't come back. It's safe to assume he's dead and has been eaten by the wild live. Yes.''

''Ashido. Do you ever talk to people your age?''

''I'm talking to you guys right now. Yes?''

And so they keep on asking some more questions. Mostly about your life and boring things. After an hour you grow tired of it and stop pointing at people.

''Well, I hope most questions are answered. Lets get going. Everyone put on your hero costume or your PE uniform. Meet me in front of the gate in fifteen minutes. If you're not there I will leave you behind.'' You sigh, walking out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sigh, only a handful of them are here. Midoriya, Iida, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, Bakugou and Jirou are there to be exact. You grumble softly at that. Clearly they are not taking you serious. You turn your back to UA, put your hands in your pockets and look over your shoulder at the waiting students.

''Lets go.'' You mumble.

''Wait! We're seriously leaving them behind?!'' Midoriya exclaims.

''I told you I would. That you guys don't listen is your problem. I did tell you guys Shouta is my uncle. You could have seen this coming.''

They exchange glances and nod hesitantly, slowly following after you. As you all near the corner of the street you hear people calling over to you. You all stop and look behind you to see the rest of the class running over. You find it funny that they're all wearing their hero costumes, even though you gave them an option today.

''Why did you leave us behind?!'' Ashido asks.

''I told you guys I would.''

''We didn't think you were being serious.'' You hear a male mutter.

''Well I was. Now lets go. We are training for the scheduled time. It doesn't matter for me whether we stop at five or ten in the evening.''

Everybody nods as you start walking again. They whisper among themselves, mostly about you. You ignore them and head to the woods. People on the street look at you all curiously. It's not everyday you see twenty well know heros in training walking over the street, whispering among themselves while following after a random girl. As you all arrive at the woods you turn to the class.

''Okay, two by two and follow behind me. We're going to a clearing, but it's easy to get lost. If you do good luck.''

You turn away from them and start walking, not caring what they do really. They all scramble to walk after you two by two. More whispering can be heard from them, only about you this time. You grumble under your breath as you keep a steady, fast pace. Soon you hear rustling all around you, the sound following you and the class. You smile and glance at the bushes to see wolves everywhere.

As you reach the clearing you run to the middle, sitting on the ground and opening your arms. The class looks at you confused form the tree line. A lot of rustling can be heard as around fifty wolves run towards you. The students yell and scream at you to move, but you just smile and ignore them. The wolves jump onto you and make a huge pile, liking all the skin they can touch.

You giggle fondly at your friends as the students run over to you worried, yelling your name and trying to get the wolves off. Some start growling as the pile on you gets smaller and smaller. You sit up once the last one leaves you, seeing they knocked you over, and look at the students who are trying to shoo the wolves away.

''What the fuck do you think you're all doing?'' You ask, getting up and walking over to them.

''(l/n)!'' They all exclaim relieved.

You sigh and pet the leader of the wolf pack. It's a big strong wolf. His fur is black while his stomach and snout are white. His eyes are fiery red. Once you pet the wolf he relaxes and so do the other wolves. You gently press against his head, signaling him to leave together with the pack. The wolf gives you a headbutt and walks off, the other wolves following.

''You guys really need to start listening. I can talk to animals, remember. The wolves are on my side and listen to me. Now, stand in a line and actually listen.''

Everyone nods and gets in line, Iida yelling at them while they do. After about three minutes they're all in line. You smile and whistle. It's high pitched and shrill. Some students winch at the sound of it. You glance to your right and see the leader running towards you with two others. The leader is called Hugo, the female that's with him is Scarlet and the other boy is Lumine.

''Okay, since you're a rather big group these three and the others will help me. None of the wolves will attack you, but stay alert, sometimes they might. You never know with these goofballs.'' You smile, ruffling the fur of Hugo.

''Anyway. The goal is to reach the top of that mountain without getting seriously injured and getting lost. If you're not there in eight hours that's your loss. That means no dinner and escort to the place you'll all be staying. I will leave a map there for the late comers. Now don't eat anything from plants, it could kill you.'' Yu ramble, making a motion for Hugo to get the bags, Hugo, Scarlet and Lumine run off as you smile at the students.

''I'll provide every group with a bag. In it are two water bottles, some apples, first aid kit and a fire gun. Only use the fire gun when something is very wrong. As soon as one is fired everyone goes to where it was fired from. Don't freak out when the wolves come. They're there to protect you if you're being attacked and can't venture for yourself.'' Hugo, Scarlet, Lumine and some other wolves walk over with bags.

''For people with fire related quirks, don't burn down the woods please. Try not to use your quirk, only when necessary. Now, make groups of three or four and come get a bag here.''

Everyone turns to each other and start talking, making groups. Slowly people are coming to you to pick up a bag. You tell them to wait with walking off and everyone complies. Once everyone has a group and bag you motion for Scarlet, Lumine and the other wolves to leave. You look at the class as you pet Hugo.

''I'll leave first. My tracks will be removed, so don't think about following them. Ten minutes after I have left the first group will leave. Ten minutes later the second and so forth. If you don't comply the wolves will take action to make sure you do. Now, see you all at the mountain.'' You smile, running off.

Hugo follows you as you run through the woods. You climb into a tree and start jumping from tree to tree, parcouring your way to the mountain. It only takes you about an hour or two to get there. You know some secret passages that are hidden from sight that get you places fast. As you reach the top you sit down on a bench and scratch Hugo behind the ears.

''You can go and run around the woods, spook the students a bit. I'll make some dinner for them. Go on.'' You smile.

Hugo licks you and runs off at full speed. You smile before walking to the campsite that's a good thirty minutes away from the mountain top you told them to go. Well, it's not really a mountain top, more like a flat spot beside a cave on the mountain. You make some sandwiches for the students before heading back to the place you told them to go.

As you get there you sit down on the bench again and look at the dense woods before you. Everywhere you look are trees, close to each other. Sometimes a line of trees gone because of a river or small lake. You hear someone run up to you and spot Scarlet running over to you. You frown slightly and pat your lap. She puts her head on it and looks up at you.

''What's wrong?'' You ask.

''The students. They're all teaming up.'' She says.

''Hmm. Collect a few wolves and drive them apart by hunting them down.'' You smirk.

''Okay. I'll get some to help me.'' She grins.

Scarlet lifts her head from your lap and trots off, stance prideful. You giggle to yourself at her antics and continue looking at the woods and the birds and other wildlife. After a good half an hour you hear faint screaming and yelling coming from the woods. After a bit you hear something approach again. You look to your right and see Bakugou emerging from the treeline.

''Welcome.'' You smile.

''Fuck off. The extra's take to long. Ditched my group.'' He grumbles.

You scan him over and see no injuries of any kind. You do notice he doesn't have a bag however. You smile and get up, walking over to him.

''Follow me. I'll take you to the camp. You can drink and eat whatever you want. But please, don't leave the campsite just yet. The wolves are still on lower parts of the mountain and not here.'' You hum, motioning for him to follow you.

He does, not uttering a single word. As you both reach the campsite you let him walk around, pick a tent and eat and drink. You silently watch him as you scan the tree lines, expecting Scarlet or Hugo to come to you soon. Hugo because he's basically like your pet and Scarlet because you just gave her an order.

''You're something else.'' You hear a gruff voice say from behind you.

''I could say the same for you Bakugou.'' You smirk, turning to him.

''I know.'' He grins.

''Confident I see. I like that. Can come in handy at times. Means you won't hesitate.'' You say, walking past him to the table with food.

''I like your confidence too, extra.'' He grins, walking after you.

''You know Bakugou. Normally I don't like cocky people, but I got to admit. I might take a liking to you.''

''Normally I don't like people who fucking talk back to me either, yet I find myself drawn to you.'' He whispers softly into your ear as he wraps his arms around your waist.

''Hmm. I must say Katsuki, keeping secrets isn't your strong suite.'' You purr.

You met Katsuki years ago. You were seven at the time. He had ventured off deep into the woods while hiking. You had met him and you two started talking. After he left that day he would come back often, always meeting up with you. You had both kept everything a secret from everyone and started dating four years ago. Now a days Katsuki comes over less, but you two call and text.

''No ones here. What's to keep secret.'' He growls lowly, sending shivering down your spine.

''Damn you. You used one of my shortcuts didn't you?''

''So what if I fucking did?''

''Hmm, let me go Suki. The first people will start coming soon.'' You giggle.

''Stupid extra's.'' He grumbles, letting go off you.

''I know you don't like them. Now stay here with Scarlet while I go wait for the others with Hugo.'' You smile, spotting the two wolves standing close by.

Katsuki smirks and motions Scarlet to come over. Her black fur with a red glow to it shines in the sun. Her bright red eyes have a glint in them as she walks over to Katsuki. Katsuki sits down on the ground and Scarlet lays down beside him, head resting in his lap. Katsuki pets her while Hugo walks over to you.

The two of you walk to the spot you told everyone to go. You sit down on the bench and Hugo sits on the floor beside you, stance screaming authority. You smile and ruffle his fur before looking at the scenery again. Your mind wanders while you stare at it, memories flashing through your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You get snapped out of your thought when you hear rustling and talking coming from the woods. You look to the right and see the class walking through the tree line. You smile and get up, walking over to them with Hugo following behind you. They all look tired and have scratches all over them.

''Welcome. Follow me to the campsite we'll be staying. Sharing a tent is necessary, but don't worry. You can pick yourself.'' You smile, heading towards the campsite. ''Hugo, go warn them.'' You smile.

Hugo runs off without a word towards the camp. You follow him with your gaze, a smile on your face.

''He seems attatched to you.'' A male voice says from beside you.

''Yeah. We're both leaders.'' You smile, looking beside you to see Kirishima.

''Have you seen Bakugou by any chance? He split up from us and we haven't seen him since.''

''He's been at the camp for a while now. Don't worry.''

''He has an advantage.'' Kirishima mumbles.

''How come?''

''He hikes a lot. Clears his mind as he always says when we ask. When he comes back from hiking he is always calm though, so I guess it works for him.''

''Yeah, hiking does wonders for the mind.'' You giggle.

The two of you talk some more as you all walk. As you reach the camp you see Scarlet and Hugo goofing around as Katsuki sits on a chair by the fire, grumbling to himself while he does. You giggle and turn to the class.

''There are sandwiches on the table same for drinks. When that's all settled you can pick a tent to sleep in. There is a change of clothes in the boxes by the fire. Look for whatever fits you. There is a river if you follow the path. Don't go without telling me please. Now do whatever you want.'' You smile, walking over to the grumbling Katsuki.

''Why you so grumpy?'' You whisper, sitting close by him, but not too close.

''The fuckers are here. Can't be close with you now.'' He growls.

''Don't worry. I know you're strong enough to keep acting for a little while longer.'' You smile.

''Yeah yeah.'' He grumbles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the week you and Katsuki go to secret spots to just be together. As the week ends you all bring them back to UA and wave them goodbye before heading back to the woods. Katsuki and his classmates go back to the dorms and take long showers while talking about their intens week.

As they all meet up in the dorms that evening to talk about the weekend they all agree on one thing. Katsuki has taken a liking to you. While he was around you he wouldn't yell, walk off, curse that much or use his quirk. Things he does around everyone. They also noticed how you were softer on him and how you kept looking for him.

''We should set them up for a date.'' Ashido states.

''How are we going to find them though?'' Yaoyorozu asks.

''Simple, we go back to the woods. They are bound to find us. They said it before, the wolves are everywhere. And they won't attack us because we spend a whole week with them.'' Ashido says.

''How are we getting Bakubro to agree?'' Kirishima asks.

''That's what we have you for.'' Ashido smirks.

''I knew it.'' Kirishima sighs.

''You're the only one he doesn't blow up on that bad.'' Kaminari says.

''And who's going to get them?'' Sero asks.

''I haven't figured that out.'' Ashido admits.

''Well, Kirishima should go. If the wolves do attack he can protect us.'' Yaoyorozu says.

''I ain't going alone. Kami is coming with me. He can stun them.'' Kirishima says.

''Deal. Okay when is the date gonna be?'' Ashido asks.

''How about upcoming Saturday?'' Hagakure suggests.

''Works.'' Everyone says.

They keep planning before going to bed. It's Sunday right now and the upcoming week they all have off to recover from the intens week of training and to make sure they make all the homework. The next morning they all wake up at a normal time and eat breakfast together. After breakfast Katsuki goes up to his room and gets changed into his hiking clothes.

''Where are you going bro?'' Kirishima asks when he notices Katsuki walking to the big doors of the dorms.

''Hiking.'' Katsuki grumbles, opening the door.

''Can I come along? (l/n) said it does wonders to the mind.'' Kirishima smiles.

''No. It only fucking works when you're alone. Now fuck off.'' Katsuki grumbles, walking out of the dorms.

Once he's out of UA he runs to the woods and up to the cabin you live in. Along the way he spots Scarlet and grins at her. She runs beside him as they approach your cabin. As he spots it he sees you working in your garden with Hugo watching you. Hugo is your wolf and Scarlet his. For some reason the two of them really clicked.

''Hey Baby.'' Katsuki smirks as he walks over to you.

''Hey Suki.'' You smile, getting up and giving him a kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next four days Katsuki goes to you everyday for the whole day. The class notices him going hiking everyday and grow suspicious. They decide to follow him this time. So when Katsuki leaves UA the Baku-squad follows after him. They notice he's going to the woods, pace a bit faster than usual.

They follow him into the woods and see him walking down a path they didn't notice before. They frown, but shrug it off. Their eyes widen when they see Scarlet walk up to Katsuki and casually walking beside him. Katsuki ruffles her fur with a bright smile on his face. After a bit he reaches your cabin and walks over to the door. The squad looks at him curiously.

''Oi!'' Katsuki yells, walking up to your frontdoor.

''Yeah, yeah. Give me a damned second Suki.'' You call out to him from inside.

After a few seconds your door opens and you give him a kiss, which he gladly returns.

''You know they're here right?'' You whisper against his lips.

''I don't give a fuck. They wanted to set us up for a date Saturday anyway.''

''Aww, you just ruined a free date.''

''Shut up.''

You giggle as you pull away from Katsuki, looking past him at his friends.

''Hey guys! Nice seeing you again!'' You wave.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #class 1-a #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #fluff #aizawa shouta

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the-edge-of-great · 3 years

Text

this is for @jatpdaily‘s JATP Secret Santa 2020!! my giftee is @agentsofoakenshiield, and i present to you: a modern royalty AU in two parts (bc it kinda got long lol) hope you enjoy!! :)

summary:

Their countries could not have created a worse pair than Julie Molina, princess of Seneca, and Alexander Mercer, prince of Koray. Romantically, of course. Really, they're the best of friends, but there’s just some minor problems: Alex is gay, and Julie’s in love with someone else.

There's an event on Friday, Julie's last before she turns eighteen. Before everything changes—her bond with Alex, her relationship with Luke, her friend group altogether. She and Alex need to figure out a way to change their countries' agreement with their limited power.

With Luke and Reggie, obligated to attend the party by law—and moral support, of course—and Professional Party Crashers Flynn and Willie by their sides, they might just pull it off.

WEDNESDAY

JULIE

A greenhouse sits at the edge of the palace, shrouded in a mess of greenery and blooming wildflowers. It’s not far at all from the castle—actually, they can see the watchtowers from its own peak—but the barrier of trees looming over the forgotten building is a portal into another world, one of flourishing life beyond what they’re taught within the castle walls. The air is softer on the other side. Everything is quieter—she feels she can speak and actually be heard. When the gravel crunching beneath their shoes silences to soft thuds across the grass, a grin breaks free, and she runs.

Her shoes are off in seconds, kicked to the side as quick as she can. She misses the earth beneath her feet, soft blades of grass tickling between her toes. She’s been here enough to know where to step and what to hop over—besides, the glass shards shimmer in the sunlight anyway. Behind her is a yell, then a laugh, then they’re chasing after her, boots stomping in her haste, trying to reach the greenhouse first.

Reggie and Flynn rush past on either side, and once they reunite in front, Flynn leaps onto Reggie’s back. Reggie shouts, stumbling and regaining his balance all in two steps. Flynn leans forward, an arm stretched out, desperately trying to brush the edge of the door to claim victory.

Julie never sees who actually makes it because arms hook around her waist, hugging her close to someone who, quite literally, sweeps her off her feet. She leans into him, head resting on his shoulder as she laughs out loud. He spins her once before putting her down, chuckling in her ear, leaving a trail of kisses across her cheek. Once she’s on her feet, she hugs him. He’s a difficult person to wrap her arms around with the armor and all, but she makes it work—especially because in an hour, she’s going to have every layer stripped away until it’s just him: regular Luke. Her Luke.

The last of their group—the reason they’ve even reunited in the first place—are slow to arrive, valuing their time in every step, every lingering gaze and smile. The corners of Julie’s mouth curl for them: Willie is always his happiest when he’s with Alex. Even more so when they can come out here, away from the world and Alex’s impending reality inching closer each day. He and Julie have agreed: they won’t talk about it unless their friends bring it up first. And even then, maybe not.

Julie takes Luke’s hand in hers and tugs him inside. It’s kind of funny how willingly he follows her, he and Reggie immediately abandoning their jobs for some friends and a building. But they’re leaving Alex with Willie, and that’s possibly the safest place in the world.

The greenhouse doesn’t have a known story, just that it’s theirs and theirs alone. It’s overgrown with thorns they admire from afar and vines curling around the spiral staircase in the center of the room. There are steps missing in places and others threatening to fall away with one wrong move. Luke and Reggie, the literal guards of their group, always watch with bated breath and tense shoulders, swearing quietly when the staircase creaks and groans under their weight. Julie and Flynn think the danger makes it more exciting.

Flynn’s already on it, sitting halfway up with her legs dangling over the side. Reggie’s beneath her, kicking away broken glass as he tries to catch a frog leaping across the floor. Julie brushes dirt off of a counter before hopping on it, and as soon as she’s seated, Luke is there, pulling her into that kiss she’s been craving since they arrived.

“Are you guys going to the dance on Friday?” Flynn asks Reggie, curling a hand around the rail as she leans back to look down at him.

“Probably.” Reggie pauses near the back wall, rocking on his heels, eyeing the brown frog resting innocently on a pile of leaves. “If we’re invited.”

“Why wouldn’t we be invited?” Luke asks, climbing on the table next to Julie. “Seneca’s going.”

Julie chuckles. “Of course we’re going. Everyone loves Seneca.”

He smirks. “Yeah,” he says, already going in for another kiss, “who can blame them?”

“Are you guys talking about the event on Friday?” Alex asks, shutting the door behind Willie. “We’re going.”

Reggie cheers. Luke corrects him quickly, “We’re going to be working, Reg.” He throws a look at Alex. “No fun for us.”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not the one who signed up to be palace guards.”

“I don’t remember signing up either?” Reggie says. “I think we just hung out with you so much that they gave us swords eventually.” He lunges for the frog, arms outstretched, hands ready to grab, and then it leaps just out of reach. He catches himself on the wall, muttering a “Damn it” under his breath.

Alex laughs. Luke shakes his head. “That’s not how it happened,” he mumbles, sharing an amused look with Alex.

“Sounds kind of legit for you three,” Julie teases.

“I think it’d sound more believable if they took the swords themselves,” Alex argues.

Julei grins. “Maybe we should send that to the tabloids. Get them talking about something else.”

Alex breathes a laugh, giving her a look as he passes, transferring silent messages that only she could understand. Her smile falters only a little. They don’t talk about it.

“So, back to the dance,” Flynn says, kicking her feet.

“Is, um…” Reggie leans against the staircase, gaze jumping between his friends. “Is something going to happen at this one?”

Alex pauses. Julie frowns. “What do you mean?” she asks.

Flynn’s shoulders slump. “This is your last event before you turn eighteen, Jules.”

Oh right, Eighteen is a big deal in their world. Eighteen means permission granted to thrust her headfirst into the political world of the monarchy. Eighteen means the beginning of preparations for Twenty-One, when she’ll become queen. And, worst of all: Eighteen means marriage.

That Look passes between Alex and Julie again. Their smiles are gone; they have to talk about it.

“I don’t know of anything, but…” Alex wrings his hands. “Maybe.” “This is so unfair,” Flynn complains. “It’s the twenty-first century! Why are arranged marriages still a thing?”

“Because monarchies are still a thing, I guess,” Julie mutters.

Their countries could not have created a worse pair than Julie Molina, princess of Seneca, and Alexander Mercer, prince of Koray. Their relationship is strong—they really, truly care for each other a lot—but there’s just some minor problems: Alex is gay, and Julie’s in love with someone else. They’ve known about the arrangement since they were children of course, and their friends just a few years after, but their predicament has never felt as set in stone as this day and the next, the true Final Countdown.

“I don’t see why the countries have to be bound by marriage,” Luke says. “I mean, this—” He gestures around the group— “what we have right here, is stronger on its own than any arranged commitment between Seneca and Koray could be.”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to convince our parents of,” Julie says. “It’s more official than an agreement from when we were babies, though. It’s a whole peace treaty.”

Willie frowns. “Then make a new peace treaty.”

“We totally would…” Alex agrees. “If either of us had any actual power yet.”

“Can’t you just fake it until you’re crowned, and then change the rules?” Flynn asks.

Alex shakes his head. “We don’t know what effect breaking that kind of agreement would have on our countries.”

“Besides,” Julie adds softly, reaching for Luke’s hand, “faking it feels wrong. I don’t know if I could do it.”

“But hey, we still have a few days until anything happens,” Alex reminds. “We’ll figure something out. For now, can we just enjoy this time together?”

Although the air is stiffer now than before, their afternoon is still well spent in good spirits. They stay out there all day, only returning to the palace when the sun is setting over the horizon. Their stomachs are growling monsters by then. Somewhere along the way to the castle, they get separated. Purposely, and not very far apart—because if Alex’s parents catch him arriving without Luke and Reggie, there will surely be hell to pay—but enough for Luke to pull her around a corner and kiss her in the privacy of bushery and an apple tree.

“I wish you didn’t have to go already,” she whines, raking a hand through his hair.

“Pretty sure they’re not going to send us away without food.” He chuckles. “We’re the guests, remember? Well, Alex is.”

She smacks his chest. “You are too, dummy.”

“Not as important as the prince and princess.” Luke grins, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m kidding. Kind of. I’d much rather be a guard than a royal anyway. The only thing that sucks is we won’t be able to share a dance on Friday.”

Julie frowns. “Wait, but we’ve danced together at other parties?”

“Yeah, but from what I hear, this is going to be much bigger than usual. There are gonna be nobles from other countries, so security has to be tighter.”

“Don’t you have to stay with Alex, though?”

“We have to have eyes on him, but we aren’t allowed to mingle with the important people unless it’s an emergency.” Julie makes a noise of protest, which makes him laugh and dip his head, kissing her softly again. “Don’t worry, I’ll make damn sure we see each other before the night’s over. Or, maybe even after…”

She chuckles. “You’re really looking for a death wish, huh?”

“You know I’d give my life for you, Julie Molina.”

“That’s so cheesy.”

Luke grins. “Only the best for you, babe.”

Somewhere nearby, they hear a side door creak open. A voice rings through the air. It’s the royal seamstress, Flynn’s mother, “Flynn, where are the others? Lunch has been ready for fifteen minutes.”

“They’re on their way!” Flynn replies. “It’s a nice day; I think they just wanted to take the long way.”

Bless Flynn’s mother; she knows what’s really going on with Julie and Alex—and likely suspects where their group has scattered off to—and she never says a word. Although she’s already regarded highly in the kingdom for her talent in design, when Julie is queen, she’s going to make sure Flynn and her family receive the best treatment possible. Maybe master bedrooms on the top floor of the castle, with balcony views of the countryside.

Before they depart, Luke leaves her with a final passionate kiss. It’s the kind that pins her to the tree truck, hand pressed into her back, fingers in each other’s hair, and when they pull away, they’re breathless, his forehead resting against hers, bodies as close as possible, savoring the touch because it’s going to be a long time before this can happen again.

“Hey,” Luke whispers, pulling away enough to find her eyes. “No matter what happens, I love you, okay?” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“We’re going to figure it out,” Julie promises. “Alex and I. We’re going to figure something out.”

Luke smiles gently, halfheartedly, like he doesn’t really believe her. That’s fair; she doesn’t know if she believes it, either.

“We’d better get back.”

When he turns to leave, she catches his arm, pulling him back. With a smile—a real one that stretches her cheeks and brightens her eyes—she tells him, “I love you, too.”

Grinning, Luke pulls her along. He curls an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

When they round the corner of the shrubbery and reunite with their friends in front of the side door, they’re apart. All of them, even Willie and Alex, who are emerging from the other side of the path. They share looks with each other then fall into formation: Alex and Julie lead into the castle, Luke and Reggie follow five steps behind, and Willie and Flynn carry the end. The last two split away from the group as soon as they cross the threshold. The others don’t even look back.

Like diving headfirst into ice water, they’re back in the real world. The greenhouse is miles away.

----

THURSDAY

LUKE

The thick, century old book slamming against a chipped wooden dining table echoes in the empty armory. A cloud of dust explodes from beneath and hits Luke and Reggie square in the face. Reggie sneezes. Luke sputters, waving a hand to clear it away in vain. They should be used to it by now—this isn’t the first time they’ve been given the Book Punishment.

“You’d think General Wilson would be more creative by now,” Reggie says, flipping open the book.

“So, you’d rather be doing four hours of PT instead?” Luke asks dryly. He yawns into his hand. They overslept—again. It doesn’t happen regularly, but enough that they know this Book of Laws well enough to pass a test (which they’ll have to do that evening, and if they fail, they will get four hours of physical training).

“Hell no. I’m just saying, where’s the flavor, huh? He’s been a war general for, like, ever. Why doesn’t he make us…” Reggie waves his hand aimlessly. “Survive in the forest for two days, like that one time before we officially became guards. Remember? We just chilled by the lake and ate those berries.” He sighs. “I miss that sometimes.” “Well, maybe we can go on a camping trip after we figure out what’s gonna happen with Alex and Julie.”

Reggie perks up at the idea; he’s blind to the eye roll Luke adds at the end of his statement.

“Wonder if there’s a chapter in here about changing the rules when you’re not actually in charge,” Luke mutters, chin in his hand as he flips through the pages.

“We could always overthrow the monarchy.”

“Overthrowing the monarchy means overthrowing Alex.”

“No way. He’d be on our side.”

Luke pauses on a page describing something along the lines of rules altered by a third party. “Reggie.”

“I mean, he’d have to take out his parents somehow,” Reggie continues thoughtfully. “Which probably wouldn’t be an issue. It’s Lainey we’d have to worry about.”

“Reggie.” Luke smacks his arm. “Look!” He points to the text, looking over with an eager grin. “Think we just cracked the monarchy, dude.”

While Luke gathers the book in his arms and heads for the door, Reggie calls, “You know Wilson’s gonna kill us if he finds out we skipped out.”

“A military general versus the prince of a whole country.” Luke laughs over his shoulder. “You do the math.”

Reggie shifts his weight from one foot to another, chewing on his lip. Then, he breaks into a jog. “Wait up,” he calls. “You know I’m bad at math!”

~**~**~**~

The issue with Alex’s guards being more like brothers to him—at least according to the king and queen—is that they often act like guests in the castle instead of trained personnel.

Neither knock before barging into the conference room. Luke has tunnel vision, clutching the book tight to his side, with newfound hope in his heart. Alex needs to see what they found; nothing else matters in that moment.

Nothing except… a heated conversation between Alex and his parents that they absolutely just interrupted. Quickly, Luke hides the book behind his back. He and Reggie come to an abrupt halt just inside the doorway, heels pressed together, bodies stiff with nerves. There are rules to be followed when it comes to approaching royals—they know them well, but when it’s just them and Alex, it’s easy to forget the divide.

“You two better have a damn good reason for interrupting us,” the king growls, looking over sharply.

Luke avoids his cold glare—he doesn’t like people beneath him making eye contact. “We—” Luke begins and ends immediately, realizing he doesn’t know what to say without sounding suspicious. Or like he’s planning treason.

“Does it matter?” Alex demands, moving between them. “The conversation was pretty much over anyways, wasn’t it?”

The king takes a dangerous step forward; only Alex shuffles back. Luke glances at Reggie. His fingers twitch at his sides. This is the one thing that truly irks them both about their job: they’ve sworn to protect the prince from any threats, but the king himself? They’re powerless.

“You are still a prince,” the king reminds in a low, careful tone. “You’re not in any position to begin calling shots.”

Alex flinches under the heavy clap on his shoulder as his father exits the room, with the queen following close behind. Nobody moves until the door clicks shut, and they’re engulfed in silence.

“Alex?” Luke calls.

Hesitantly, Alex turns to them. There’s a red tint to his face and a glossy layer over his eyes that goes unmentioned. He runs a hand through his hair, short breaths racking his body.

“I was just, um…” Alex squeezes his eyes shut. “We were talking about the marriage agreement again.”

Luke nods, handing the book over to Reggie. “Hey, why don’t you take a seat?” Fingers curling under Alex’s arm, Luke guides him to an upholstered bench by the window.

“I’m fine,” Alex declares quietly as he sits down.

“Okay.” Luke nods Reggie over. “Then, listen to this: I think we found a loophole around the law. According to this, the Next In Line himself can create or alter a law as long as a member of the royal family and the High Priest bears witness.”

“But it’s a peace treaty, not a law. Seneca’s leader has to have a hand in it as well.”

“Maybe there’s a way for Julie to get around it, too,” Reggie suggests hopefully. “We can figure it out next time we’re together, but dude! We have a chance here!”

Alex pulls at his sleeves. “I don’t know, guys. You know my parents; they won’t be convinced that easily.”

“Doesn’t matter if they’re convinced.” Luke chuckles. “Even they can’t argue with the High Priest.”

“You think the High Priest would go for it?”

Reggie shrugs. “Worth a shot, man.”

Sighing deeply, Alex agrees halfheartedly, “I guess so.”

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Luke asks, nudging his arm. “You okay?”

Their relationship is odd because a guard would never be able to be so personal and informal with a royal. But it’s Luke and Alex; they’ve always been an exception, ever since they were kids when Alex invited him, a commoner he met playing near the front gates, to a sleepover in the cinema room. Ever since, they’ve been inseparable.

“I’m just a little freaked about everything, that’s all. Mom and Dad aren’t helping, either. They’ve been planning this wedding since I was five years old, which is weird.” He sniffs, looking to the side and rubbing a hand across his face. “Before I had a chance to even try liking guys or girls, they’d already made the decision for me.” Luke and Reggie share a concerned look. Alex shakes his head, laughing humorlessly as he rises to his feet. “Gladys wouldn’t approve. You know what she says, ‘There’s no room for emotions in this castle.’”

“Gladys isn’t here,” Reggie reminds softly, but firm.

“Yeah,” Luke agrees. “It’s just us.” They don’t dislike Gladys; for a noble, she’s kinder than most. For an advisor, she’s damn good at her job. One of her best attributes—according to the king, the queen, and General Wilson—is her ability to ‘shut off’ her emotions when needed. Luke doesn’t get it; how can shutting off your emotions really solve anything?

The corner of Alex’s mouth twitches into a half smile that doesn’t last more than five seconds. “Yeah, thanks guys. Um, I’ll think about what you said, but I don’t think I can talk to Julie about it before tomorrow night.”

A door swings open, silent as a mouse, but the soft creaks of the floorboards are enough to alert their ears. General Wilson steps inside; Luke and Reggie exchange nervous glances.

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” General Wilson greets. His eyes drift over Alex’s shoulder for just a moment, but a single look freezes Luke to his core.

Inwardly, he groans. They’re totally spending the rest of the day flirting with death on the training grounds.

“General Wilson,” Alex responds, lifting his chin. “Can I help you?”

“Apologies, I was just looking for those two—” He swallows thickly, like whatever he’s trying to say is difficult— “star pupils. They’re missing important training.”

Alex looks over his shoulder at them; Luke and Reggie give him a toothless, sheepish smile in return. To Wilson, Alex says, “Sorry, I need them right now.”

Luke chews on his lip to keep from smirking. He loves when Alex uses his authority over the general.

“But—“ Wilson takes a breath, hooking his hands behind his back. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, tomorrow night is an important event that these two, among the rest of the guard, need to prepare for.”

“Why?” Alex frowns. “It’s just another social gathering.”

“There will be leaders from countries we’ve not interacted with face to face in years.”

“Any in particular we should be suspicious of?”

“Well no, but—“

“Then I don’t see an urgency in needing them right now.” General Wilson opens and closes his mouth. “Shut the door on your way out,” Alex adds, waving him off.

Giving Luke and Reggie a final, heated glare, he turns and marches out of the room.

Alex waits for the door to shut to sigh loudly. “Thank God,” he says, turning to his friends. “That man is terrifying.”

“He thinks the complete opposite of you,” Luke admits, grinning. “Which makes it even funnier.” Next to him, Reggie gives Alex a high five.

Their laughter is a weight lifted. Luke just hopes it’s still around after tomorrow night.

----

Part Two

#jatp secret santa #julie and the phantoms #jatp #royalty au #modern royalty au #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #nick jatp #flynn jatp #carrie wilson #willie jatp #juke #willex #angst and anxiety #what a pair #jatpdailysecretsanta2020

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Fall

summary: You spend the fall season falling in love with Frankie.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

pairing: frankie “catfish” morales x f!reader

warnings: loads of fluff, mentions of death if you squint

rating: R

word count: 6.165k

masterlist

The day you meet Frankie Morales, you fall for him—literally.

It happens at the local orchard when you’re picking apples like you always do when the season comes around. You usually stop by a few times to collect a large share of apples, cooking them into any recipes you can—apple pie, apple crisp, apple cake, literally anything. It’s one of your favorite parts of the fall, along with the changing colors of the leaves and the cool breeze that forces you to wear just one more layer than you’re used to after the summertime.

This time, however, you’re climbing one of the wooden ladders to reach the good apples near the top of a tree when its leg falls into a dip in the ground, causing it to sway and you to go with it. You let out a gasp and try to grip onto something, but it’s all out of your reach. You brace yourself for an embarrassing moment when you hit the ground and the other onlookers have to stare at you uncomfortably, but instead, you’re secured by a gentle grip on your waist. When you turn your head to observe your savior, you almost want to fall again.

Warm, charcoal eyes peek out from under a baseball cap, wide and expressive enough to reveal his concern for your well-being yet his amusement at what could’ve happened. There’s a smile that tugs at the corners of his lips, the hint of a dimple appearing within his scruff. “I guess that’s why they call the season ‘fall,’ huh?” the man jokes, his voice slightly raspy as he chuckles softly. He doesn’t release his hold on you until you’re safe on the ground again, tipping his cap and then stuffing his hands into his pockets afterwards. “You alright?” His brow is knitted in concern still.

You laugh and nod, cheeks growing hot as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, just wasn’t expecting that,” you admit. You then raise an eyebrow at him. “Not sure I’ve recovered from that dad joke of yours, though.”

The man laughs heartily, the sound of it warming your chest as you laugh with him. “That’s why my buddies call me the dad friend, I guess.”

You smile at him. “Well, what do I get to call you?”

He smiles wider, reaching out one of his hands for you to shake. “Frankie—Frankie Morales.”

You introduce yourself as you shake his hand, relishing in how warm it feels as it grips yours securely yet gently in his. He pulls away and you oddly find yourself missing the touch, watching as it retreats back into the pocket of his jeans. You further observe the green flannel he’s got on with the sleeves pushed past his elbows and the boots on his feet, admiring the way he dresses for the season. “Thanks for saving my ass, Frankie.”

Frankie’s eyes widen a bit at you. “Of course. I wouldn’t trust those little wooden shits for my life, and I’ve had to do a lot of crazy things.”

You raise an eyebrow yet again in curiosity. “A lot of crazy things, huh? Well, now I’ve got to hear about them.”

Another smile appears on Frankie’s lips as he gestures towards the basket hanging from your arm. “Mind if I join you, then?”

You happily accept, and for the rest of your time at the orchard, you walk along with Frankie and get to know him better. You learn that most of the “crazy things” he’d mentioned were due to his time spent in the Delta Force along with the aforementioned buddies he’d met while serving. He tells you a few brief stories of things that went down, either on the job or with his friends. You confess that you’ve never been the perfectly innocent type, either, recounting some of your wild stories that have Frankie admitting he feels a little better about things he’s either done or had to witness.

You’re actually saddened by the time you wrap up your apple-picking, and you can tell Frankie feels the same way. He carries your bags to your car for you, saying that he knows you’re more than capable of taking them yourself but insisting that it’s how he was raised and that he really doesn’t mind. You exchange numbers and invite him over to your apartment later in the week to enjoy something baked with these apples. Frankie eagerly accepts and assures you that he’ll keep in touch. He stays true to his word, shooting you a text as soon as he gets home.

For the next few days, you talk nonstop, even going to the point where you’re texting more at your work desk than you probably should. When the night of Frankie’s visit comes, you’ve completely decked out your apartment, getting your best dish sets clean as you finish setting up the white fairy lights around your cabinets. The apple crisp you’ve decided to bake is already in the oven and making the apartment smell of cinnamon and nutmeg when you hear Frankie buzz up. You call him in and open the door when he arrives, unable to keep yourself from smiling as you let him in. He’s wearing that same baseball hat and you wonder if it’s a signature part of his look. There’s dark hair that curls out from under it and it reminds you of the cinnamon you’ve sprinkled on the dessert.

“Whatever you’re making smells heavenly,” Frankie confesses when he seats himself at your kitchen island.

You thank him as you stand across from him, leaning your elbows against the counter and meeting his warm and easygoing gaze. “It’s my mom’s famous apple crisp.”

Frankie’s eyes brighten at that. “Pardon my French, but I fuckin’ love apple crisp.”

You laugh a bit. “That’s good, then, because there’s a lot of it.”

“That’s incredible. You’re incredible. I can’t remember the last time I got to have a homemade dessert like this.”

You frown a bit upon hearing that. “Really?”

Frankie shrugs nonchalantly. “I mean, my parents don’t live in the area, and none of the guys are really star bakers, so…”

You raise an eyebrow. “And you don’t bake? At all?” When Frankie shakes his head, you gasp dramatically. “Oh, there’s so many simple recipes you could make—like this!”

Frankie smiles at your enthusiasm. “I guess you’ll just have to show me a few of them sometime.”

You return his smile. “I guess so.” You’re just about lost in his eyes when the timer on your oven goes off, making you jump as your hand flies up to press against your chest. You let out an embarrassed giggle as you head over to the oven, slipping on your mit and pulling out the dessert. “Jesus, that scared me.”

“Sorry,” Frankie apologizes with a chuckle. “I can be a little… distracting.”

“Yeah, I can see that.�� There’s a hint of amusement in your voice as you look at Frankie over your shoulder. He’s observing your movements with such warmth and admiration that you’re sure the oven-heated pan wouldn’t feel as warm as your chest does now. You hear a shuffle of footsteps and look again to see Frankie walking over to where you’ve set the pan down onto the counter, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you as he observes your creation.

“So, what’d you do to make this masterpiece?” Frankie questions, his tone full of honest curiosity as his gaze shifts from the dessert to you.

“Real simple,” you assure him, your hand floating over the dessert as you point out the different ingredients. “Butter, brown sugar, flour, old-fashioned oats, cinnamon, and nutmeg, all mixed together in a bowl. You crumble that topping over some sliced apples and voila!” You gesture to the pan, making Frankie chuckle with a nod of understanding. “If you really wanna be fancy and add some extra flavor, you can also soak the apple slices in cinnamon and nutmeg before adding the topping.”

Frankie raises a curious eyebrow as he nods. “Wow. That does seem pretty simple.”

You reach for the plates you’d already set out and start to dish out the servings. “Yeah—it’s quick and easy, and I’m sure your friends would go wild for it.”

Frankie scoffs. “Oh, yeah, they’d eat anything.” You laugh as Frankie gestures towards the dishes. “How can I help you?”

“There’s no need, Frankie,” you assure him as you shake your head.

“Please,” Frankie insists, his dark eyes pleading for you to let him do something.

You sigh yet smile at his sheer kindness, gesturing towards your fridge and freezer. “If you want to top it with some vanilla ice cream, I’ve got some in the freezer.”

“Perfect.” Frankie sets off in that direction without hesitation, reaching inside and pulling out the carton of ice cream for you. He sets it down on the counter next to the pan, gesturing to your small drawers to wordlessly question where he can find the scooper. You point to one just below where he’s placed the carton, and he retrieves it easily as he takes the plates from you and adds a generous scoop onto each one. You set forks on each plate, smiling in satisfaction once you’ve finished. You both navigate your ways back to the counter, you continuing to stand across from Frankie as you dig in with caution thanks to its temperature. When Frankie gets his first bite in, he closes his eyes for a moment, as if absorbing the taste while the hand not holding his fork dances in the air. “Wow.” Frankie reopens his eyes and you laugh at how much they’re sparkling. “This is… I don’t even know how to describe it other than magical.”

Your cheeks heat up as you laugh again. “Oh please,” you demur, picking at your next scoop as you try to bite back your smile. “It’s not me, just the apples.” Your gaze lifts back up to him as you finally let your smile give way. “Your company while picking probably made them taste a lot sweeter.”

It’s Frankie’s turn to blush at that, and he tries to hide it by taking another bite. You watch his hand readjust the cap on his head. “Almost as sweet as you.” Frankie smiles in victory when he notices your shy demeanor in response. After a few moments of comfortable silence while you eat, Frankie clears his throat, pushing his plate away a bit once he finishes. “Listen,” he begins, his voice soft. “I really liked this dessert and I really like you.” His gaze looks into yours hopefully. “Can I take you on a proper date soon?”

You smile warmly as you nod in response. “I’d love that, Frankie.” You take his plate for him and earn a genuine thank-you, carrying the plates to the sink and washing them off. Not surprisingly, you hear Frankie’s footsteps soon following after you, and he picks up your drying rag to dry the dishes after you clean them. “Though… I am a little offended that you wouldn’t consider this a ‘proper date.’” Your tone makes it clear that you’re kidding, but a look of fear still crosses over Frankie’s features as he looks down at you.

“No! I just—you know, I’d like to treat you. To something really nice. Not that this isn’t really nice, but I—.”

“Frankie, it’s alright,” you cut him off with a laugh, handing him the last dish to be dried as you look up at him with a bright smile. “I was joking. I know what you meant. And this has been very nice.” A look of slight embarrassment now covers Frankie’s face, and you release a chuckle as you reach up to leave a quick kiss on his cheek. It flushes red not long after, and you bite back a smile at his adorably shy behavior.

Frankie stays for another hour or so as you make easy conversation, planning for him to come pick you up this weekend to take you on his “proper date” to the local pumpkin patch. It’s an adorable selection and you find yourself gleeful at the thought of him embracing the season so openly. You’ve always loved the season and to see Frankie share that same passion for it with you makes you more joyful than you could’ve thought. You anticipate the date for the rest of the week—and, judging by the frequent and enthusiastic texts you share with Frankie, so does he. You practically skip out the door when Frankie finally texts you he’s arrived, your oversized sweater bouncing as you make your way to his truck. He gets out to open the door for you and you shake your head at his never-ending, gentleman-like behavior.

“Chivalry isn’t dead,” you joke once Frankie gets back into his side of the truck. He chuckles as he starts down the road.

“I just can’t help treating a woman like you with the utmost respect,” Frankie retorts, his honesty evident in his tone. “Well, and any woman. But you especially.”

You smile as you never look away from him. “I see you drank your respect women juice this morning.”

Frankie laughs, giving you a quick look full of amusement and admiration. “Every day. It’s the most important meal of the day.”

You make more playful banter and fun conversation as you soon arrive at the pumpkin patch. Frankie helps you down from the truck and leads you to the wooden box that serves as an entry point, paying for both your fees no matter how many times you try to force the cash into his hands. Once your hands are stamped and you’re inside, you stay close alongside him, your arm brushing against his with every movement. You hope he gets the hint and he does, entwining his hand with yours in a way that makes your entire body go warm.

“So, what do you wanna do first?” Frankie asks, looking down at you with a soft smile.

You shrug and look around. “I’ll do anything,” you confess. “What’s your favorite thing to do?”

Frankie chuckles. “Everything.”

You shake your head at him. “C’mon, Frankie. There’s gotta be something you like the most out of it all.”

It’s Frankie’s turn to shrug as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “I swear, I love everything.”

You laugh. “Alright. Then I’m making the executive decision to get cider donuts.”

Frankie laughs with you. “I support that.”

After having to fight Frankie to pay once again—and failing—and finding a seat at one of the wooden picnic benches, you both enjoy your donuts as you keep your hands folded together underneath the table. You sit in comfortable silence while you eat, looking out and watching the parents who try to keep their kids under control and the teenagers who try to pretend they’re not on a date but obviously are. You chuckle as you finish and point out a nearby duo who’s standing awkwardly far apart to Frankie. “How much do you wanna bet those two are gonna end up dating by the end of the night?”

Frankie raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, they look pretty awkward. But I feel like I know better than to try to make a bet with you. You’re too smart.” Your cheeks grow warm, especially as Frankie looks over at you and furrows his brow. He lifts his free hand but hesitates. “You have, uh—” he gestures to your mouth before adding, “—do you mind if I…?” He reaches his free hand further again, and you nod once as he brushes his thumb along the corner of your mouth, no doubt wiping away a few pieces of sugar that lingered there. Your face gets even hotter, now, your gaze watching his own observe you with such admiration that you can practically feel your heart flying out of your chest. He lets his thumb fall to your chin as he looks all over your face, a smile growing on his lips. “You’re really beautiful, you know.”

Your gaze falls to your entwined hands as you try to bite back a smile. “Thank you,” you reply honestly, only looking back up once his hand leaves your face. You see his dark eyes glittering in a way that makes your smile impossible to hide any longer. “You should know that the day we met, I almost fell again when I saw you.”

Frankie blushes and shakes his head at you. “Oh, please.”

“I’m serious!” You laugh as you and Frankie stand up from the bench, throwing out your garbage and walking leisurely through the patch hand-in-hand. “If I had, it would’ve been a much better cause than that hunk of wood.”

“That’s true,” Frankie agrees, a playful smile on his lips. “But without that ‘hunk of wood,’ we wouldn’t have met.”

“Fair point.” You give his hand a squeeze as you smile to yourself. “Guess I’m gonna have to thank that thing one day.” You stop when you realize you’re a few paces away from the corn maze, and you look up at Frankie excitedly as you gesture to it. “Wanna go through the maze?”

Frankie watches your excitement with pure admiration as he nods. “Let’s go for it.”

He walks with you inside the entrance, his hand never leaving yours as you walk around together. Turns out that he’s quite the guide as you go around, and you figure that it probably has something to do with his military training. You’re sure that you’re bound to get out fast, but after ten more minutes of turning and walking, you realize you’re further in and not even that close to the exit. You can’t help giggling as you stand on your tiptoes in a lame attempt to look over the corn. “I think we’re lost, Frankie.”

Frankie shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe I wasn’t trying to get us out.”

You scoff, turning to give him an incredulous look that makes him laugh. “Wow, I didn’t think you’d lead me into a cornfield to murder me on our first date. I thought we’d at least make it to the second one before that happened.”

Frankie laughs harder and shakes his head. “I won’t hurt you,” he assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “It’s just… a little more private out here.”

You raise an eyebrow, ready to question him as to why he wants privacy when you hear a sudden rustling in some of the nearby stalks. You nearly jump into Frankie’s arms, bracing your free hand against his chest as you watch the stalks shake—convinced that someone’s about to jump out of them. Your moment of panic subsides when a squirrel trots out from the stalks, moving quickly across to the group of stalks that are facing your back. You let out a sigh of relief as you laugh, shaking your head at yourself. “I’m so sorry. I guess I’m just easy to scare.”

“That’s fine. I’m quick to protect.” You look up at Frankie upon hearing his sweet words, watching as his dark gaze observes you affectionately from under his hat. His gaze falls to your lips for a quick moment, returning to your eyes soon after. Your fingers drum against his chest as you raise an eyebrow up at him.

“So, about that privacy…” you trail off as you bite back a smile, looking to his lips as he’d done to you before.

You watch Frankie smile wide enough to reveal his dimple before his free hand cups your cheek, easing his face closer to yours until his lips touch yours. The kiss is gentle and sweet, just like the Frankie you’ve come to know, and you can still taste the faint remnants of apple cider and cinnamon and sugar on his mouth as it moves softly with your own. Frankie pulls away for a moment but stays close, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he observes your gaze closely. When he sees it glowing just as much as his own, he goes in for another, this time letting it deepen as he gently eases your body against his. You part your lips to let him in more, craving the sweet taste of him. Your fingers pick lightly at the curls peeking out from under his hat, wishing they could thread fully through his hair but knowing that time will come eventually. Your stomach is fluttering practically as much as the tops of the corn stalks in the wind when you pull away, your smiles wide and full of nothing but pure joy and affection for each other.

“It was a good choice to get lost,” you say in a hushed voice, running one of your hands along the scruff on his jaw. Frankie chuckles softly at you. “But I think we should get out before we get reported like two horny teenagers.”

Frankie laughs harder at that, nodding to agree as he lets you separate yourself from him. He holds tight to your hand again, and you let your free arm wrap around his as he leads you out of the maze for good this time. You finish the evening at the patch by selecting two pumpkins that you can each carve on a different night, and Frankie carries them to the truck for you as he helps you up. He takes you home and makes sure to walk you up and give you a goodnight kiss along with a promise to come the next evening to carve the pumpkins.

He, of course, follows up on that promise, and your time spent together becomes more and more frequent as the season progresses. Soon, you’re seeing him almost every evening, whether it’s him coming over to your place, you going to his, or him taking you somewhere for dinner or just to look out at the beautiful, changing nature. The more you get to know Frankie, the sweeter you find him to be, fully learning just how selfless he is and how eager he is to lavish you with affection. If you show any evidence of you being cold, he’ll either wrap his arm around you or give you his jacket right away. If you seem tired, he’ll offer his shoulder for you to rest upon. If you’re upset, he’ll let you talk for hours, even offering to bake you something you’ve taught him to make. Frankie’s mastered your apple crisp recipe to become even better than yours, and you can’t complain about it. He’ll never admit it, but you know it’s true.

One of your favorite nights is when Frankie takes you on a haunted hayride. You’re not a huge fan of them, but remembering his words about protecting you, you decide it’ll be fine and he won’t let anything happen to you. Thankfully, this isn’t the type of haunted hayride where they can reach out and grab you, so you don’t have to worry about that. It’s the jump scares that get you most of the time, and while you hold Frankie’s hand and arm the whole time, you often find yourself hiding your face in his shoulder while he assures you he’s got you and you’re okay. It’s usually uttered between laughs and you don’t mind—especially when Frankie accidentally gets scared so bad by one masked man who jumps out of a tree that he yelps like a surprised child. You laugh so hard your stomach hurts, and Frankie just shakes his head as he chuckles along with you. By the end of the night, you’re still buzzing with anticipation and fearing a random thing jumping out at you, so Frankie agrees to stay the night with you at your apartment just so you can feel secure enough in his arms to sleep.

When Halloween rolls around, Frankie tells you that you’ve been invited to go with him to a party hosted by his best friends. You’ve heard so much about them and this will be your first time meeting them. Thankfully, Frankie tells you it’s not a costume party, so you don’t have to worry about being dressed up as someone else when you meet them. You find yourself feeling a bit nervous as you get ready for the occasion, though, wanting to impress the guys who Frankie has repeatedly told you are like family to him. You dress as nice as you can without looking as if you’re going overboard, wrapping up your light application of makeup as soon as you get the text that Frankie’s arrived. You meet him outside to see him already leaning against the truck with his arms crossed over his chest, and they unfold slowly as he stands up straight to meet you. Frankie’s hands wrap around your waist as his widened gaze observes you fondly.

“You look gorgeous,” Frankie tells you, his voice soft as he places a kiss in greeting against your lips. “I mean, you always do, but tonight you look especially incredible.” You thank him quietly, giving him another kiss before pulling away to let him open the door for you. You hop inside and wrap your hand in his as soon as he joins you again, your entwined hands resting on your thigh as he starts off towards Santiago’s house. Frankie takes a quick look over at you, long enough for you to clearly see the way he’s reading you so easily—as always. “You nervous?”

You shrug, trying to play it off but knowing better thanks to Frankie’s keen way of knowing you. “A little,” you confess with a light sigh. “I just—I know how much they mean to you and I want them to approve of me.”

“Approve of you?” Frankie scoffs lightly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Baby, they already adore you. When they actually see you in person, they’ll just go crazier over you.” He gives you another look of reassurance. “And even if, in some weird alternate universe, they didn’t ‘approve’ of you, I wouldn’t give a shit.”

You can’t help smiling at that, and you squeeze his hand in thanks. You remain in comfortable silence for the rest of the drive, taking a deep breath once Frankie pulls into the driveway. He carries the drinks he’s contributing in one hand and keeps your hand tight in his with the other, not even bothering to knock on the door as he pushes your way inside. Almost as soon as you walk in the house, you’re met with cheers of delight and excitement as the guys come up one-by-one. They greet Frankie first and then you, and by the time you’ve sifted through all four of them, you already feel much more at ease. Santiago even invites you into the kitchen with him, and Frankie urges you to go on as you follow him away from the rest of the guys.

“You know, you’re pretty much a legend around here already,” Santiago tells you, a smile tugging at his lips as he invites you to sit at his counter while he finishes cooking up dinner. You laugh and shake your head, watching as he works skillfully. “I just thought I’d get you in here because, well, as I’m sure Frankie’s already warned you, the guys can be pretty… overbearing at first.”

“Yeah, I did get that warning,” you reply, chuckling more as you sip at a glass of water Santiago had offered you before. “But they all seem very sweet, too.”

“And fucking loud.” Santiago’s words are followed by a string of random exclamations from the dining room where the guys are gathered, and he looks at you with a raised brow that practically says See what I mean?

You snicker. “I’m surprised—Frankie’s pretty quiet himself.”

Santiago hums in agreement. “He keeps us all in check. That’s why he’s the dad friend.”

“Oh, right. He’s told me all about that.”

“Really?”

You nod, watching as Santiago views you with an amused eye. “It was one of the first things he told me.”

Santiago stops what he’s doing to look up at you again. “Really?”

You nod again, this time with a light laugh. “I mean, his first words to me were a total dad joke, so…”

Santiago laughs, giving his head a shake as he looks back to what he’s cooking. “Bless your heart for letting him continue, then.”

You smile as you reflect on the moment when it all began. “I couldn’t resist. It was actually really charming to me.”

Santiago lets out a dramatic aww, causing you to giggle and shake your head as you take another sip of your water. As Santiago starts to finish up the meal, you move to rise from your seat, wanting to help him.

“What can I do to help?” you ask.

Almost immediately, you’re shot down as Santiago shakes his head and gestures for you to sit back down. “I really appreciate it, but don’t worry, you’re alright. I never make my guests work. Only those little shits.” He gestures with the utensil in his hand towards the boisterous dining room that’s hidden by a wall. You chuckle and nod in understanding, letting yourself relax back into your seat as he continues to work. “Actually, your boyfriend should be coming to ask me for help any minute now.”

As if on cue, Frankie pops out from around the corner of the wall, his hand resting on it as he looks to his friend with a lifted brow. “Need some help, Pope?” Santiago nods and gestures towards a platter that’s already been put together on the countertop you’re sitting at. Frankie smiles warmly at you as he walks over, pausing before picking up the platter to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Having fun so far, babe?” You nod, and Frankie jerks his head in Santiago’s direction. “He’s not annoying you too much yet, is he?”

“Oh, fuck you, Fish,” Santiago scoffs, causing Frankie to laugh as he starts to pick up the platter. “She’s great company.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Frankie agrees, throwing you a sly wink before he heads off to the dining room. You shake your head and follow, taking your seat beside Frankie as the dinner commences.

Frankie keeps a hand on your thigh to settle you as the guys begin to pester you with questions, but you don’t mind. You entertain them well and they seem to really enjoy your company, which you know brings a wide smile to Frankie’s face as he listens in. By the end of the night, you’re sharing drinks and laughing so hard you have to double over a few times, already being asked when Frankie will bring you by again. You promise them that there’s plenty of time left, and when Frankie announces that he’s taking you home, they all take the time to say a warm goodbye along with a reinforced statement to Frankie that you better be in for the long run. You already feel like a part of their little family as you leave, and Frankie shares his joy with you over this on the drive back.

“I’ve never seen them so excited over one of our girlfriends before,” Frankie confesses excitedly, his hand giving yours a squeeze. “I mean, I knew they were gonna love you, but they’ve practically adopted you into the family already.”

You smile warmly as you return his squeeze. “I feel honored. They’re great, Frankie, really. I can see why you love them so much.”

Frankie looks at you jokingly, a playful smile on his lips. “Oh boy, should I be worried, babe? Am I gonna have to compete?”

You laugh heartily. “No, Frankie, you won’t. They’re all great, but—” you pause as you lean over to kiss his cheek, “—you’ll win me over time and time again.”

Frankie blushes a bit as he smiles wider, his dimple popping out and making your heart soar as you finish the drive to your apartment.

When the season starts coming to a close, Frankie takes you out for a weekend camping trip, wanting to use as much of the lasting relatively-warm weather as he can. You hike around the scenery during the day and sit by the fire at night. Frankie always makes sure you have as many layers as you need to stay warm, and during those cold nights, he always keeps an arm around your shoulders and—inside your tent—he holds you as close to him as possible. It’s the last night now, and you’ve been sitting at the fire reflecting on your pasts and how they’ve led you to this very moment, to each other.

“Fall was always my favorite season,” you tell Frankie, head leaning against his shoulder as he keeps an arm around you.

“Really?” Frankie remarks, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your shoulder as you nod at him. “I’ve always been more of a summer guy.”

You look up at him with a small smile. “I can see that.”

Frankie laughs, kissing your head before he continues. “The fall has always been a favorite of mine, though. I guess I just never got to experience it the right way with someone I loved—until now.”

Your heart nearly flies out of your chest at his words, and you look back up at Frankie again to meet his warm and affectionate gaze. It practically melts you into a puddle as your jaw drops at him. “Is that your way of telling me you’re in love with me, Frankie?”

Frankie shrugs, his thumb now running down the length of your arm as he searches your eyes almost anxiously. You smile and reach a hand up to grab one of his cheeks, pulling his face to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You try to show him all the things you want to say in the kiss, proving to him that you feel the same way as your mouth moves with his in such a sweet and familiar manner. When you pull away, your gaze never leaves his as you brush your nose against his.

“I love you, too.”

Frankie smiles wide and releases a soft chuckle, placing another quick kiss upon your lips as he stays close. “I kinda figured.” You laugh as his free hand runs over the side of your face. His dark eyes sparkle with a new light, now, half-mischievous and half-desiring. He waits a few beats before he voices his thoughts. “Listen, remember when I told you about all the crazy things I had to do and would rather do than climb a flimsy wooden ladder?” You giggle at him and nod. “Well, how would you feel about adding to that crazy list?”

You raise your brow at him. “Depends. What do I have to do?”

Frankie breaks his gaze with you briefly to look up at the dark sky, and you follow to see a clearing in the surrounding trees that puts the autumn stars on full display. He then meets your eyes again with his usual warmth. “How would you feel about making love with me under these stars tonight?”

You try to bite back a smile at his proposition, lips brushing over his as you give your answer. “I think the only crazy thing about that is you thinking there would be a possibility of me saying no.”

Frankie chuckles softly as he fully places his mouth against yours, and in the sweetest and most passionate of ways, you add an item to his list of crazy things that night, but not without Frankie making sure you’re tucked in the warmth of his body and at least three layers of blankets when you finally drift off to sleep.

You realize the fall’s truly coming to a close the day you and Frankie start moving into your new apartment together. Frankie’s just reached for the last box in his truck when you realize snow’s starting to fall from the sky, and you look at him in disbelief. “The fall’s really over already, huh?” you ask him, watching as he smiles at you from behind the box he’s carrying.

Frankie nods, stopping beside you to plant a kiss on your forehead. “The winter’s here,” he reinforces your statement. “Good thing you’ll have me here to keep you warm. I know you’ll miss the fall, though.”

You shrug and smile up at him. “It won’t really be over when I’m falling for you basically everyday.”

Frankie rolls his eyes playfully as he chuckles. “Who’s the one with the dad jokes, now?”

You laugh and reach up to kiss him softly. “I learned from the best.”

When you look into Frankie’s dark and loving gaze, you realize that this is the exact moment where you’re finally feeling grateful for almost falling off that wooden ladder—and right into Frankie’s arms.

series parts: summer, fall, winter

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @nettyklecan @javier-djarin

#oh to fall in love with frankie during the fall #yes i am Yearning #frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier #dindjarindiaries

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theawkwardterrier · 3 years

Text

When in the Depth of Winter

Summary: Peggy notices how the cold troubles Steve and tries to fix it.

The first part of my Steggy Secret Santa outtakes posting. This one was rejected because it refused to stay as light as I wanted, so take that as you will.

Read on AO3

Something happens to Steve as the temperature begins to drop below freezing. Peggy doesn’t think that anyone else has noticed - when asked if he seems different to her, Angie declares, “Nah, swell - and gorgeous! - as always,” and Bucky points out that just because the current war is a cold one, doesn’t mean that Steve feels he’s through with his responsibilities - but it’s terribly obvious to her. Or perhaps it’s only that no one else is around to see him walk through the house in his warmest socks or take an extra quilt from the linen closet to add to their bed. No one else thinks to notice how odd it is for him to bundle in gloves and a scarf and a hat, even though his core temperature stays consistently high regardless. She seems to be the only one who sees him turn from cheery window displays and tuck himself even quieter and farther inside at the parties they’re invited to.

She asks him about it, of course she does. They’ve been married for a year and had been seeing each other nearly daily for months before then, ever since he’d been recovered from the Valkyrie. There’s no one she trusts as much as she does Steve and she doesn’t think it flattery but mere fact that she holds similar esteem to him. Still, he only frowns and shrugs in response to her questions, says he’s feeling the same as usual, kissing her gently on the temple or crown or mouth and thanking her for worrying about him. And she doesn’t think he’s intentionally lying; sometimes, however, your feelings are buried so deeply that you don’t even recognize them. That doesn’t mean that they aren’t there. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t anything to be done.

Somehow, as if knowing that Peggy has other things to think about and can’t stay in the office until all hours or pop in for emergency sessions on weekends (or perhaps because she isn’t the only one whose family has her focus just now), her agents are closing cases at a top clip and the criminal underworld seems to have settled into some sort of hibernation.

And so Peggy is able to stop at the delicatessen on a Friday and still be home by suppertime.

“It’s the absolute perfect evening,” she says as soon as she comes through the door. “Come for a walk with me.” There’s an excitement to the declaration rather than any martial strictness; after an assessing look at her - this isn’t precisely normal for the two of them - he stands and dons his coat to join her outside.

They live away from the main street and most of their neighbors are already tucked away inside their homes. When they do encounter someone, they exchange nods, but for the most part there is only the soft sound of their boots atop the leftover snow, their exhalations of breath which fog in the air.

Through the larger front windows they can see families eating and couples reading side by side, silhouettes of Christmas trees, and once, a couple sharing a kiss in a dim sitting room. One or the other of them will point out some particularly pretty decorations. It is not late but the winter darkness is so complete that when they step through a streetlight the reality of the brightness is nearly a surprise, a brief dawning which reminds them of how lovely the velvet night can be too.

Pressed close as they are, she feels him shiver as a breeze blows past them. Leaning up, she touches her chilled cheek to his warmer one, both their eyes closed. And without speaking, they turn around and start for home.

Their fireplace has never been used before now, but they light it tonight, sit in front of its bathing warmth to eat the chicken soup that she had brought home, reheated piping hot. They don’t speak much but it is enough, unhurried and peaceful. She can feel him watching her, trying to figure through her intentions, but in the end he seems simply to accept it, leaning back and allowing himself to be thawed.

“What do you think of ice skating?” she asks him as they finish washing the breakfast dishes one Saturday morning.

He gives her an odd glance. “Walking but on ice and with knives strapped to your feet?” he tries.

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing we have to do today which can’t keep until tomorrow, and I’ve bought you a pair of skates which should fit.”

Steve is her husband, and before that he was her friend, and he is above all her partner. She doesn’t often use with him the tone of voice she does for stubborn politicians or agency heads who disagree with her, the one which is simultaneously so firm as not to brook complaint and a bit blithe, as though whatever is being discussed has already been decided in Peggy’s favor and aren’t they silly for having forgotten. By the way his eyebrows furrow even deeper, she knows he recognizes it and he even opens his mouth to say so, but in the end he instead goes to get his coat.

Their house is a ten minute walk from the skating pond - not even that if you’re Steve - but they’re usually too busy to even contemplate availing themselves of it. It’s already midmorning by the time they arrive and the day is perfect, sunny but frigid, so no one has to worry about softening ice. They are far enough into the season, however, that the novelty has worn off and only a few other groups are taking advantage.

Steve has, through mutual effort, become a passable dancer beyond back and forth swaying and turning in circles (not that the style doesn’t have its own charms). That skill doesn’t seem to translate to the ice, however, and he spends their first turns around the pond clutching her hands with the trembling ankles of a newborn deer taking its first steps. But he picks it up more quickly than she had expected, his serum-induced athleticism activating as he continues to practice, and soon his hand in hers has nothing to do with balance or security anymore.

They get competitive, they can’t help it, laughing as they race, taking care to swerve around the others with whom they are sharing the ice. Steve tries a couple of jumps - daring and occasionally reckless as he might be, he’s smart enough not to attempt flips just yet - and even when he falls, he just laughs and shakes himself off as he stands again.

It doesn’t escape Peggy’s eyes as they switch back over into their street shoes that Steve has stuffed his gloves into his pocket, that he drapes his coat over his arm deference to the sweat they’ve worked up. But she doesn’t mention anything, merely takes his hand once again for the walk home.

They go to watch Angie playing Martha Cratchit in A Christmas Carol the next week, and treat her to supper and hot apple cider afterward. (Steve crinkles his nose but keeps taking baffled sips from his mug, as if a preference for it might sneak up on him if he only keeps trying.) The week after that, it snows again and they spend Sunday in Prospect Park with Bucky so Peggy can experience the site of their youthful sledding exploits.

“Well, we didn’t exactly have a sled then,” Steve points out as they climb Lookout Hill. “But there’s plenty you can do with a garbage can lid or the old instrument trays that the hospital was getting rid of.” It’s the sort of statement which would have Peggy’s mother making faces like she had just sniffed sour milk, but Peggy herself actually smiles at the picture of her husband small enough to curl himself up for a trip down the hill and brash enough to try it.

“Can’t believe you’re forgetting my masterpiece,” Bucky jokes. “Weeks of collecting scrap wood and old nails, borrowing my dad’s hammer to put it all together, and you don’t even mention it.”

Steve shakes his head. “My mother was certain I’d get tetanus just from being near that thing when she saw what you’d made.”

“I think my ears are still ringing from her shouting - and don’t think I’ve forgotten that it was mostly at me.”

“You were the one stupid enough to build it!”

“You’re the one who was stupid enough to ride it.” With a grin, Bucky adds, “I didn’t think anyone could shout louder than my ma, so I guess I learned a lesson in more than woodworking that day.”

“Now I’m even more disappointed that I was never given a chance to meet her,” Peggy says as they reach the top before Bucky can play any further with the word woodworking. He had been discovered in Russia by a SHIELD spy and extracted a year before they found Steve; he is quiet about the professional help he has been getting to manage the pain of the things that happened to him during the war and after, but it’s clearly making a difference: his terrible sense of humor is returning in fuller force even than she knew it could. Steve’s hip nudges against hers, and she knows that it is not by accident. She looks up at him and catches his smile.

After a morning of racing down the hill until the crowds arrive, after they’d handed over their sleds to a group of kids without their own and, picking up food on the way, gone back to Bucky’s apartment to eat and talk and laugh together, Peggy and Steve take the train back home. His cheeks are still somewhat rosy when she looks at him, and the remnants of laughter still dance about his mouth. Halfway there, a pair of seats opens up and they sit side by side, leaning into each other a bit, watching absently through the steamed window as the city passes them by.

“I can tell what you’re doing, you know,” Steve says as they climb the porch stairs, returning from helping out at the Red Cross rummage sale. Steve has plenty of volunteer projects he’s associated with around the neighborhood - the soup kitchen, the community center - but she had been the one to suggest this; she remembers how welcome that bright symbol had been on the battlefield, in the same way as Steve’s shield.

“Unlocking the door?” she asks as she plucks her keys from her bag.

He is so near to her that she can feel his heat and practically his narrowed eyes as well as he says, “Not—Well, sure, but what I meant was that I know that you don’t just suddenly find winter outings appealing.”

She lets them through the door, unbuttoning her coat with her other hand. “Perhaps I’m only just becoming comfortable enough with you to share my love for them.” Until he comes out with what he is thinking, she isn’t going to simply believe the jig to be up.

“Peggy,” he says, and to anyone else listening it would just be her name, but she hears the real sharpness to the word. She turns to him, coat still draped around her shoulders. He’s shut the door with his foot and they haven’t had a chance to switch on the lights; his face is shadowed, difficult to make out in the muted light of the late afternoon.

“When you asked,” he says, and then makes himself take in more air. “When you asked if something was wrong, I didn’t know that there was. But it’s just that—” He ducks his head, then lifts it again, making himself look toward her. “I keep thinking of all those winters of never being quite warm enough, never having a good coat or shoes to keep out the damp, the way I knew that I was getting sick by the way my breath would catch when I laughed or when there was a certain taste in the back of my throat. I can’t forget the smell of trench foot from guys who’d been walking in wet boots for days, or the times I had to be the one to keep digging the graves because the ground was so frozen no one else could get through it. There are nights I close my eyes and see Buck falling, that jacket of his all dark against the snow, even though he survived, he’s back now and safe. And sometimes, when the wind is really bad, I feel like I remember—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head, though his shoulders shake as well, broad as they are.

They have talked about their time apart, as they call it, but he has always wanted to keep the focus on her end, on the things she had done and the way she had felt and all that had happened to her, pushing off talk of his end of things with reminders that there wasn’t anything to tell about what was essentially a prolonged sleep. They both know that he shouldn’t be able to recall any of it - he swears he was knocked out by the impact of the crash and he only woke up again long after he had been removed from the shell of the Valkyrie and completely warmed - but even the thought that he might remember a moment of his time frozen beneath the ice stabs at her.

“I could see that this time of year was difficult for you,” she says, and she doesn’t look away from him even as she folds herself inward. Typically her bulling forward has worked in her favor; the idea that it might have backfired and hurt the person she least wants to is intolerable. “I thought we might try to cloud some of the associations for you, to give you some new memories for the season. But perhaps it was a bit too much to overcome.”

He ducks his head and steps toward her; he is very near in the darkened front hall. “You weren’t wrong to try. The thing is that you did give me good new memories: helping people get through the worst of the cold, spending time with our friends, all those new moments with you. Those memories have to fit inside my head along with the old ones; you just made sure that sometimes when it’s cold what I’ll remember instead is kissing you with snowflakes on your eyelashes. I’m just never sure which is going to be the one my brain’ll bring up.”

“I know as well as you do that it’s impossible to erase the other memories,” she says. “But it’s terribly important to me to make sure that you have an entire lifetime’s worth of happy ones too.”

“You’ve given me a million wonderful ones, even when you weren’t trying,” he says staunchly. Captain America isn’t just a persona or a symbol, it’s who he is, the bolsterer, strong and entirely reliable, she’s always known that. But it is so clearly Steve Rogers who, after a pausing moment, asks, low and a bit worried, “But what about—I don’t want you to feel guilty if sometimes the good memories aren’t always enough. It’s only that the bad ones are still in there too.”

She closes her eyes; how particularly privileged she feels for him to allow himself to say such a thing when he spends so much time considering himself last, trying to make sure no one thinks of having to extend a hand on his behalf.

“Well,” she says, stepping forward and tucking herself beneath his coat with him, wrapping arms around his back to hold him tightly to herself. “In those moments, we just stand together and wait for spring.”

#Steggy fic #Steggy #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #alternate universe - Steve was found in the ice #bad psychology

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axwalker · 3 years

Text

Undeniable Miracle 2: Stranded

I’m participating in the 12 days of Christmas hosted by @leelee10898 and @emichelle . Thank you so much 💕 💕

Synopsis: Alexis decides to leave Cordonia on Christmas Eve, but she has a car accident in the middle of the woods during a snow storm.

A/N: This AU takes place during Liam’s and Madeleine’s Engagement Tour.

A/N 2: Some vocabulary for the Spanish words.

A/N 3: I’m using the prompt: “If you’re so cold, why didn’t you say something? Come here.” requested by @mskaneko

Fonda: Small Mexican restaurant.

Romeritos: Tender sprigs of seepweed which are boiled and served in a mole sauce seasoned with shrimp jerky blended into the mix. Typical additional ingredients include boiled potatoes, nopales and shrimp. They are usually served with bread slices and in tacos

Ensalada de manzana: combination of lettuce, beets, apple, and peanuts in a light orange vinaigrette

Bacalao: Cod fish prepped with sautee onion, garlic, tomatoes and olives.

Pozole: Tradition Mexican soup made with Hominy, pork and peppers.

Villancicos: Traditional Christmas songs.

Warnings: I can’t think of anything for this chapter but there will be NSFW in future chapters. All my fics are for 18+ ONLY.

Words: 2718

Disclaimer: Characters and settings belong to Pixelberry.

@burnsoslow Thank you so much for beta read and for your encouragement. I love you and appreciate you so much.

The edit of the mood board is the work of beautiful @mskanekoI was dying to use it. I love youuu

When he sees I don't respond, he opens my door. "O'Brien? Are you okay?"

I blink, incapable of forming a coherent sentence.

"Did you hit your head? You seem lost." Drake kneels in front of me.

Finally, I react. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too. I asked if you were okay."

"I'm fine. I need to call a tow truck."

"Yeah, right. There are no tow trucks in storms like this, O'Brien." He sighs and asks me to open the car's hood so he can check the engine. Five minutes later, he comes back, and I read his expression. The car is not going anywhere.

"Sorry, O'Brien, but this car is not going to work for now, and the storm is getting worse. You're going to have to come with me."

I scoff. Drake is insane if he thinks I'll go anywhere with him. I've spent the last two months trying to forget everything about him; I don't need this right now.

"I'm sure I can find a way to get to Lythikos by myself."

"Shit, you're so damn stubborn, O'Brien. You aren't anywhere near there. It's about 50 miles away. I guess if your car had kept going about 50 miles through the woods, you might have landed there. Is that what you were trying to do?"

"Bite me, Drake."

"Wow, you really should do something about that attitude of yours." The asshole actually smirked. "I have a cabin a few miles up the road. We can go there and wait out the storm. My truck is parked on the road. I pulled over when I saw the car spinning."

"I'll wait here."

"You'll wait for what? To freeze to death? Don't be ridiculous; you're coming with me."

I shake my head stubbornly. "I think freezing to death is preferable to going with you. Thank you very much."

"You don't have much of a choice, O'Brien. I can't fuckin' leave you here. My cell phone doesn't work here, and I'm assuming yours doesn't either or else you'd be on it right now. They're expecting two feet of snow or more. So, I'm sorry if you're pissed at me or whatever, I'm not leaving you here."

I'm well aware that I'm behaving like a petulant, spoiled child, but my wish to make him as angry as I am overcomes all logical thinking. “As I said, I’m not going.”

"I'm going to have to carry you to my truck then."

"Carry me? No way. You are not touching me." I grab my phone again, begging my Abuela to send me just a little bit of phone service so I can call Max.

"Either you get out of that by yourself, or I carry you. You have exactly 30 seconds to decide."

I shut my door and raise my phone, trying to get some signal. Suddenly, Drake opens the door, reaches into the car, and has me scooped up without effort into his arms before I can even protest. I barely have time to grab my purse.

"Enough of your bullshit. Done," he states, then kicks my door shut and starts to walk up the snowy hill.

I have no choice but to put my arms around his neck. "Let me go this second Walker!"

Drake stares at me and gently shoves a strand of hair off my face. I'm suddenly aware of how close our faces, our lips, are. Because my heart is stupid and has a mind of its own, it starts beating like crazy. Drake swallows hard, and for a second, I think he's going to kiss me; I'm almost closing my eyes when he speaks.

"Here we are." He puts me back on the ground and opens the door of his old Jeep.

A bark coming from the backseat startles me.

"Oh my god! He's beautiful! He looks like a wolf!"

Drake's eyes soften when he pets the animal.

"It's a Tamaskan dog."

"Hi, boy! You're so cute!"

"He's not supposed to be cute; he's supposed to be terrifying." I turn my head, and I see he's teasing me. I shake my head and keep talking to the dog. "Don't listen to your dad, handsome; you're a cutie pie."

"I'm not his dad. He's a damn dog, O'Brien."

I rolled my eyes. "What's his name?"

"Zeppelin. Get in the Jeep; I'm freezing my ass off out here."

I smirked at him. "I never realized how bossy you are."

He shakes his head, but I catch the unwilling smile on his face.

DRAKE

I glance to the seat next to me, still not believing that O'Brien is here, in my Jeep. I try to think of something else besides her maddening fruity scent or the curve of her neck, but I already know that my ability to function like a normal human being disappears when she's around.

I can't believe that I'm so fucking stupid to be still hung up on her after what happened in Ramsford. She made perfectly clear who she wanted to be with -- yet here I am, looking at her like a goddamn fool.

We drive for a few minutes in complete silence. Suddenly a deer jumps out from the woods, right in front of the Jeep. I hear Alexis scream as I swerve, and the truck starts to slide and spin, gaining speed. In a second, I glance at her, throwing one arm across her chest to hold her against the seat when I see she doesn't have her seatbelt on. I try to regain control of the truck but it's not working. I feel the Jeep flying off the road and into the woods, crashing downhill and plowing down small trees, until it finally stops, wedged amongst a bunch of larger trees on the side of a hill.

"Fuck!" I throw both hands against the steering wheel. "I can't fucking believe this shit!" I turn to O'Brien. "And why the fuck wasn't your seatbelt on?"

“I thought you could drive!" She looks down at my arm, still holding her, and whispers, "Thank you."

I rest my head against the wheel and take several deep breaths. "I'm sorry for yelling at you." My voice is level and calm, even if the thought that something could've happened to her while I was driving makes me murderous. "Are you okay?" She nods, still shaken.

"You okay, Zeppelin?" The dog whimpers and licks my hand. "That's a good boy. We're all okay." I try to restart the truck, but it's completely dead. I can't believe this; honestly, I just can't.

"What are we going to do now?" O'Brien asks.

"Well, we're out of cars, so unless you want to walk or ride the dog to my place, we're stuck here."

She squints at me. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Walker."

"But the highest form of intelligence, O'Brien." I wink at her, and she rolls her eyes at me again. I've forgotten how much I loved teasing her. At least, I wish I had forgotten. "We're going to have to just stay put until the plow truck comes by, and we'll have to hitch a ride. Until then, we're in luck because I stopped at the grocery store on the way to the cabin. I have enough things we can eat and drink to keep us going until then. I have a big blanket in the back seat, so we should be able to stay pretty warm. It's really heavy and thick."

I saw the panic in her eyes, so I continued. "Hey, O'Brien, look at me." She raises those fucking beautiful dark eyes and meets my gaze. "I would never let anything happen to you, okay?"

She nods. "Okay. Yes, I know. I just hope we don't get hypothermia.”

"We won't, O'Brien. C'mon, I think we should both sit in the back seat, since there's a lot of room back there, and we can put the blanket over both of us. I think it will help keep us warmer."

She gives me an odd look but nods. "Right. Yes. I think it's the best idea." She climbs over the seat first, and my eyes roam over her perfect body. I suppress the urge to sink my hands in her delicious hips and sit her on my lap. I sigh and call Zeppelin to the front seat, so we have more space.

"This is nice; it's very roomy," she says as she pulls the cover over both our legs.

I can see that she's shivering. "If you're so cold, why didn't you say something? Come here." I put my coat on her shoulders, and she smiles at me. Fuck me if I wouldn't do almost anything for that smile. "Where were you going on Christmas Eve? I' would've thought you'd go to the Christmas ball in the palace."

She hesitates for a few seconds, but finally, she answers, "I was going to spend Christmas with Olivia in Lythikos."

I raise my brow in disbelief. "I must have a concussion, O'Brien; I just heard you were headed to Lythikos to spend Christmas with Olivia Nevrakis."

"I know! Our friendship was … unexpected. At first, we were just trying to figure out who set us up. The whole Tariq thing that you stopped? It was a trap; someone was trying to blackmail both of us."

I don’t want her to know that I spend every single free minute I have helping Max figure out who set her up. If I ever find the person who sent Tariq to her room that night and scared the shit out of her, I will kill him.

"Yes, O'Brien, I knew. Liam told me."

She nodded. "Well, we're trying to get to the bottom of it together, so we've been spending a lot of late nights drinking bourbon and talking. She hides it very well under layers of sarcasm and abrasiveness, but she's extremely loyal and has a great heart. Just like you."

"If you compare me to that crazy redhead one more time, you'll be sleeping outside, O'Brien, and I can promise you, it's cold."

She laughs. "Okay, okay, sorry. I won't do it again."

I'm about to ask her why she's not spending Christmas with Liam, but she speaks before I can talk. "And you? What are you doing here?"

"I moved to a town close to Lythikos a month ago. I'm opening a veterinary clinic there. This morning I went to supervise the construction site and to get some groceries for the cabin."

She looks pensive but doesn't say anything for a while. "I hope you're happier here than you were in the palace, Drake,"she finally says, so softly that I almost miss it.

I take a deep breath because I can't tell her the truth. I can't tell her that I can't be happy now, not after her. When I kissed her that night, I lost everything. She would never be mine, and after that, we couldn’t even be friends anymore.

"Thank you, O'Brien," I reply anyway because I know she's expecting some sort of answer.

"How did you get Zeppelin?" she asks as she pets my dog, and I swear the traitor's mouth curls up into a little doggy smile.

"I was running some errands for the clinic when I saw him tied up outside. I came back a few weeks later on a sunny day, and this poor dog is just tied up to a fence on the side of the building with no shade or anything, and I don't even see a water dish or food. So I park my car and check on him, and he's all happy to have someone pet him, tail wagging like mad. There was an old food dish off to the side, but it was empty, and a dish with some dirty water. I went to my house and grabbed some of the toys and food I'd bought for the clinic. I also gave him some water, and he drank three fucking bowls. I felt terrible leaving him. I just had this bad gut feeling, you know?" She nods with misty eyes. "Anyway, I had to go back to Cordonia city after I gave the dog the stuff. To be honest, I kind of forgot about him. But when I came back, O'Brien, it was awful. I honestly think the last time he ate was the food I'd given him. He was nothing but skin and bones, too weak even to stand up. He was just lying there in the dirt with flies buzzing all around him. But when I kneeled in front of him, his little tail wagged a tiny bit. I think he remembered me."

Tears spring into her eyes. "My God, Drake, what happened?"

I see how affected she is, so I reach her hand and squeeze it. "An old man came out of the little building and started yelling at me to get off his property. There was just no fucking way I was going to leave him there. I told him that if I ever saw a dog or any other animal on his property ever again, I would fucking kill him. The douchebag just ran back to the house. I took the dog to my cabin. He was dehydrated and almost starved to death, had two ear infections, worms — you name it. We've been together ever since." Zeppelin looks up as if he knows we're talking about him.

She wipes a tear and caresses Zeppelin's ear. "You named him?"

I shrug. "Best band ever."

"Ha! You're so predictable, Walker."

"How do you know my last name? I never gave it to you."

"I asked Maxwell at the coronation. Why? You don't like it when I call you that? Turnabout's fair play, Walker." She bits her bottom lip; I look away before the impulse to kiss her becomes unbearable, and I do something stupid. Again.

"Nah, I like it, O'Brien. Calling each other by our last names will be our thing."

She sighs, not talking for a while. "What is it, O'Brien? I can almost see the wheels turning in your head."

"We're going to spend Christmas Eve here, stranded in the middle of nowhere."

"I know; I'm sorry, O’Brien. Do you usually do something special?"

She looks up to me with so much vulnerability in her pretty face, I find it hard to breathe. I instinctively come close to her because I hate that look in her eyes; I hate even more that I was the one who put put it there with my fucking dumb question. Her mom and grandma are dead; of course it's a sad subject.

"Not in a long time. It was one of the holidays my mom, my Abuelita and I celebrated together. We didn't really do Halloween because my mom's Fonda was so busy preparing for Dia de Muertos. The day of the dead," she explains.

"I know, O'Brien. You made me watch Coco with you and Maxwell in Applewood." I can't help but smile at the memory. She forced us to watch the damn movie in Spanish only to hit "pause" at every single scene to translate it and explain the traditions.

"Well, Coco had it right! They really respected our traditions!" she replied, her eyes shining as they always did when she was excited. "Anyway, my mom worked for most holidays, and I was forced to spend Thanksgiving with my dad, his crazy wife, and her creepy son. So, Christmas was the best. Especially Nochebuena, Christmas Eve. We had this huge dinner where all our neighbors came to the house and brought Mexican dishes. We had everything; bacalao, romeritos, ensalada de manzana, and the best pozole in Brooklyn. We sang villancicos, had a piñata. The whole thing. My abuela took the holidays seriously," she says with a sad smile.

I might be a fucking fool, but I can't stand seeing her this sad. And, suddenly, I know what to do. "We might not be able to have a traditional Mexican Nochebona ..."

She giggles. "No-che-bue-na, Drake."

I think I could spend the rest of my life here listening to her speaking Spanish.“Yeah, that.” I watch through the window and when I see that the storm has calmed, I say, “I have an idea; just wait here."

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luviedovey · 4 years

Text

the you i fell in love with

connor murphy x female!reader

a/n: not me writing a fic about mike faist’s connor murphy 2 years after he left the show...... also Connor is probably ooc

summary: you were Connor’s girlfriend who lived in the next town over, a little over a half hour away. his family didn’t know about you, no one did. he didn’t want his family or anyone he knew to scare you away. in the end, it didn’t really matter. he was gone. when the Connor Project came to be and Evan resigned from being co-president, you ran into him. you questioned him about his “friendship” with Connor and he told you everything.

set after the Murphy’s find out the truth and before the Evan/Zoe reunion at the orchard.

second person pov

warning: a few swear words, also very brief mention of depression and taking your own life, and Larry Murphy kind of being a dick

word count: 5,573

______

“Who are you exactly?” Evan questioned the girl who pulled him off to the side of the supermarket where no one else was around. To say he was a little nervous would be an understatement, he was freaking out on the inside.

“I’m so sorry! I probably scared you half to death dragging you along like that.. I just have some questions for you, if you don’t mind answering..?” You smiled at him sheepishly. Something about your awkward smile eased his mind a bit, but not enough. “No, sorry my mom actually is waiting for me by the-” “It’s about Connor!” You interrupted, looking at him through sad, heartbroken eyes. “..Please. Evan Hansen. I know you weren’t really friends with him. I know you weren’t even secret friends with him.. Because if you were, I would’ve known.”

Evan looked around before looking back at you, confused. “Who are you?” He asked for the second time. “I’m- I was Connor’s girlfriend. Y/N L/N. I met him 2 years ago at the apple orchard you guys rebuilt? We both went there because we thought that no one else would be there and that it would be the perfect place to escape. His family and classmates never knew about me because he-” you laugh slightly,” he was afraid they would take me away from him. Or that his family would fight in front of me and he’d lose his cool or that his sister would say nasty things about him to ‘spare me from being in a relationship with him’ or even that the bullies at his school would turn me against him even though he knew damn well I could never.” You stopped rambling and passed him a Polaroid picture of the two of you, sitting against the chain link fence that surrounded the old abandoned apple orchard. You were looking up at Connor with heart eyes as he smiled back down at you. A real smile. This was the real Connor Murphy.

Evan looked up from the picture at you, shocked before quickly returning it to you. “Oh my god... You must think I’m such a h- horrible person for doing all this and pretending to be best friends with your- your dead boyfriend- I’m so sorry for your loss by the way- and making up all these stories about things we never really did and starting a whole online campaign about-” “Evan!” He stopped ranting, breathing heavily. “Breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Relax.”

It was silent for a moment before Evan mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.”

You smiled knowingly. “Now. Mind telling me everything?”

The two of you sat in your old beat up truck, as Evan told you everything. And by everything i mean everything. He started from the very beginning, “My dad left when I was 7 so now it’s just me and my mom. She works all the time at the hospital to support us and to pay for her education- she’s studying to be a paralegal- and so I’m usually home alone. I have anxiety so I take medication and go to therapy where I have to write a letter to myself hyping myself up for the day and trying to be positive and stuff-” “’Dear Evan Hansen’...”

He looked up from his hands at you, “Yeah.. Connor had one of my letters when he- um.. he took it from me earlier that day..” “It was your therapy letter? Why did he take it from you?” “Oh! You see he didn’t actually know it was a letter to myself for therapy he just thought I was being creepy and writing about his sister in a letter to print it out where he would find it and freak out and explode or something- That wasn’t why though, I didn’t even know he was in the room with me, I thought I was alone. He signed my cast before he read my letter, though. He said, ‘Now we both can pretend we have friends.’ Which is why I thought doing what I did would be okay but it wasn’t and it never will be and I really shouldn’t justify my actions because it was-” “Evan breathe.” “Right, sorry.” “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” “Okay sor-” You gave him a pointed look.

“O-okay...” You giggled slightly, looking out of the window at the supermarket parking lot, “So.. he ran out with your letter, pissed because he thought you were fucking with him... And then he killed himself.” “Yeah.”

“So what happened after that?” “The Murphy’s showed up in the principal’s office three days later. I knew something was wrong because Connor and Zoe both weren’t in school and I know Connor skips but it’s not likely that they would both be out on the same days. Zoe doesn’t really skip school- she’s not that kind of person.” You nodded, gesturing to get to the point. “Right, they called me into the office because Connor had my letter and my name was on it so they thought the letter was for me. I tried to tell them it wasn’t- that I was the one who wrote it, but they were in denial. They kept reading parts of my letter back to me from memory, trying to make sense of it but I couldn’t tell them- I couldn’t get through to them....” He sighed.

“They invited me over to dinner and I went because I wanted to set the record straight but when I got there, they wanted to hear everything I knew about Connor. But I didn’t know anything, so whenever they brought something up I just nodded and agreed. Zoe was getting suspicious so I started to make things up. ‘Connor loved to talk about how much he hated skiing.’ ‘Connor took us to A La Mode and we ate our ice cream in the apple orchard where we climbed trees and raced across the open fields.’ ‘We would quote songs by our favorite bands.’ ‘We’d tell jokes no one else would understand.’ All lies. And they believed them. They wanted me to keep talking, they needed me to. They were broken and I just wanted to help them. I told them that we were friends on the internet where we’d email each other to talk about our day and stuff. And Connor would use a secret email account because he knew his dad was checking his regular email, and he didn’t want anyone to know we were friends.... Now that I think about it, this kind of sounds like your story.” You laughed, lightening the mood, and nodded.

“You know, you really aren’t that far off from who Connor was, despite the fact that you were making it up as you went. He wasn’t the monster that everyone thought he was. I mean sure in 2nd grade he pushed over a printer because he had a little tantrum about being skipped for line leader, but what kid doesn’t have a tantrum at least once in their life? It definitely didn’t help that all those kids grew up, making the story sound worse than it really was. He was always angry and stand-offish because everyone in his life would say shit about him that wasn’t true or be nice to him to get close enough to learn something new about him and then turn around and make fun of him for it. He was battling depression and needed help but his family didn’t want to believe there was anything actually wrong with him. I was the only one to believe him. To believe in him. But I’m just one person, and I guess that wasn’t enough..” You trailed off. Evan awkwardly put a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb as a way to console you.

It was silent for a moment. “I think he would’ve liked you. It would’ve taken him a while to warm up to you, but I really do think the two of you could’ve been friends.” Evan smiled slightly, before frowning. “I pretended to be his friend for so long, but Alana- she’s the co-president of the Connor Project- started getting suspicious about our friendship, saying that the letters didn’t make sense because it sounded like Connor was getting better so I showed her Connor’s ‘suicide note’-” “Dear Evan Hansen, It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because, why would it be?”

“...Yeah. She believed me too. I told her not to show anyone because it was a really private thing, but she just said that was exactly what people needed to see. She posted it and people on the internet started to attack the Murphy’s, saying things like ‘They’re a rich family who couldn’t bother to pay for their son to get help?’ and ‘I’m not saying to do anything illegal but their house is the pale yellow house at the end of the cul de sac with a red door.’” Your hand flew to your mouth in shock. “They even leaked Zoe’s phone number and their house phone! Everything was just spiraling out of control and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and the only thing I could think of to do was just.. them the truth. So I did and I told them everything. I wrote the letter, Connor took it from me, we weren’t really friends, and it was all a lie. I haven’t spoken to the Murphy’s since.” He fiddled with his hands in his lap and sighed. “And.. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll go to school and everyone will hate me or that the Murphy’s will ruin my life.. Not that I don’t deserve it, after what I did? I deserve worse.”

“Evan.. No one deserves that, especially not you. What you did wasn’t exactly the right thing to do but you had the best intentions.” He nodded silently, “What did you want to ask me earlier anyways?”

You turned, facing down at the wheel in front of you. “I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was buried.”, a tear slipped from your eye as you sighed, smiling sadly, “I didn’t exactly get to say goodbye..” “I could go with you if you’d like. To show you the way?”

“Thank you, Evan.”

___

During the ride to the cemetery, You and Evan talked, trying to lighten the mood, and quickly became best friends. The two of you didn't have so much in common but you were both very comfortable and supportive of each other. You were like the siblings neither of you had.

The two of you stepped out of the truck, and begun walking to Connor’s grave. “Oh! Hold on..” You turn back, grabbing a beautiful bouquet of red roses and pink tulips, with a small white card that said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you enough when you needed it, Connor. I will never forget you, mon amour. I love you, always.” Connor didn’t have a specific favorite flower but he did appreciate their meanings. Roses represent love, and tulips represent a declaration of love. You hoped that even though he was gone he would still appreciate the thought you put into it.

The two of you walked up to his grave. It was at this moment when it hit you that he was really gone forever. You dropped to your knees, carefully placing down the flowers. Tears streaming as you silently sobbed, Evan’s hand on your left shoulder and the ghost of Connor’s hand on your right.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I love you more than you’ll ever know..”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, before agreeing to leave in case the Murphy’s decided to visit. Neither of you really wanted to run into them and have to explain who you were and why you were there. “Do you want to come over to my house? You look emotionally exhausted.” You laughed and nodded, starting up the car.

___

“Why didn’t you come to town sooner?” You sighed, “I just.. I didn’t want to believe that he was really gone, you know? And coming here, seeing his grave, and his grieving family just confirmed what I prayed wasn’t true.” You sipped on the hot chocolate in your hands, staring out of the window at the pouring rain and cloudy night sky. “Have you met them yet?” Evan mumbled, typing on his laptop on the couch beside you. He pulled up the Connor Project and read about all the many different things Alana was doing. “No.. But I feel like I should? Like I know things about Connor that would give them closure but I can’t bring myself to go over and talk to them.”

“If only there was a way for you to show them what Connor was really like so you wouldn’t have to talk to them...” It was silent for a moment, “Actually... Connor and I used to write each other handwritten letters and take a lot of pictures together..” “Well what are the odds..” he giggled, “Maybe you could give those to them? The ones that aren’t super personal?” You sat together deeply in thought.

“But I can’t exactly bring myself to just give them away... Maybe I could copy them and white out all the personal stuff? Like the things between me and Connor only, and my face and name?” Evan nodded, agreeing that that would be the best option. You’d create a box filled with things Connor wrote and pictures of when he was truly happy, then leave it on the Murphy’s doorstep. It was a safe, no-contact interaction.

___

The next night, you went over to Evan’s house with the box labeled “The Real Connor Murphy. (i’m so sorry for your loss.. i thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.)” Evan gave you directions to the Murphy household. Eventually, you parked in front of the pale yellow house, all three cars were in the driveway. “You better be quick if you don’t want anyone to see you.. Just.. keep the car running, drop off the box, ring the doorbell, and book it back here and drive off. Don’t turn back.” “Okay super spy.” You laughed nervously.

You walked up to the door, placing the box neatly on the ground with a single rose and tulip tapped on the top, rang the doorbell, and ran off. You jumped into the car and drove off just as Evan, who was previously hiding away from the car window, saw the red front door begin to open.

___

“Larry!” Cynthia Murphy exclaimed, picking up the box from the front porch to the dinner table, placing it beside the small card they had found on a mysterious bouquet of flowers they found the day before against Connor’s gravestone. “What is that?” He asked, looking at it with disinterest. “I found it on the porch, it says ‘The Real Connor Murphy. I’m so sorry for your loss.. I thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.’ It’s in the same handwriting as the note we found on that bouquet of flowers. It even has the same two flowers! It has to be the same person. Someone who really loved him...” “What’s inside?” Zoe asked while reading and rereading the small card.

Cynthia opened the box to find handwritten letters from Connor and a mystery girl, photos of Connor laughing, smiling, pouting, hugging and kissing someone with a scratched out face. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was the real Connor, a whole different version of him that the three were completely unaware of. Seeing him like this was just so unfamiliar to them, they couldn’t believe their eyes for a moment. Zoe picked up a letter, reading it aloud,

“Dear Y/N

Things haven’t been going so well lately, my parents are always fighting, my mom pretends like there’s nothing wrong, my dad doesn’t pay attention to anyone but himself anymore, and Zoe hates me.

Not that I blame her, I hate myself too. But I don’t hate myself when I’m around you. I’m so glad to have you around. You make life just a little easier every day.

It’s harder when you’re not around, I get angry easier when I get bullied at school or when Zoe says something awful about me. I just feel like I’m an airplane about to crash, but with you around I feel like I’m flying. Smooth sailing. Floating even. You are the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.

Thank you. I love you.

Sincerely, Con”

“He.. he had a girlfriend..?” She said, in shock. The three began to shuffle through the letters, photos, and little post-it notes, putting them in piles. “These are all copied..” “Maybe whoever left them didn’t want to give the originals away..?” “Maybe because she still cares about and loves him and didn’t want to give these away. They seem so.. personal.” Cynthia picked up a post-it note,

“Tu es belle Y/N, je t'adore.”

“What does that even mean?” Zoe pulled out her phone going straight to google translate, “It’s says ‘you are beautiful, i adore you.’.. I didn’t know Connor knew french.” “He never took a class for it. Maybe he learned it on his own?” Larry picked up a photo this time, Connor was standing in front of the apple orchard’s rotting old sign in the middle of the field, fake pouting and wearing a thin little flower crown you had made him. “I didn’t know Connor had any feelings other than anger.” Cynthia hit his arm. “Wait,” Zoe said, grabbing the attention of her bickering parents, “This letter has a picture and a post-it note attached to it.”

“Dear Con,

Thank you for the painting, it’s absolutely beautiful. You are so so talented. The way you put so much thought into every detail is truly admirable. You make everything you paint so exciting and captivating, even if the thing you’re painting isn’t very exciting at all. You see the beauty in the things that most people never give a second glance.

It kind of reminds me of the way I look at you.

To most people that don’t know you, you are a “freak” or “school shooter chic”. But, when I look at you, you are none of those things. You are beautiful, you are captivating, you are perfectly imperfect. You are worth it. Don’t give up on me darlin’.

I love you.

Sincerely, Y/N/N”

Attached to the letter was a photo of the painting mentioned. It was a painting of your beaten old navy blue truck parked beside a chain link fence that blocked it off from the open field. In the background, the sun was setting in a perfect blend of yellows, oranges, and reds. It was so detailed that if you weren’t already aware that it was a painting, you would’ve probably thought it was a photo taken from a fancy camera. “It really is beautiful..” Cynthia trailed off, wiping a stray tear that fell from her eye, “He was so talented. I didn’t even know he liked to paint! I mean I knew he took an art class but because he skipped school so much, I never even thought he went..”

“I guess we really didn’t know Connor at all..” Zoe begun to get angry, “What kind of family does that?! I mean we lived with him, I grew up with him, you two raised him, and we still didn’t even know who he was?! This.. this stranger even knew more about him than we did! Do you realize how sad this is? We have to learn about our dead family member from a complete stranger because when he was alive, we were too busy pretending like he was just acting out for attention instead of actually needing help! He needed help and we didn’t give it to him! It’s not like we couldn’t afford to take him to therapy! We just pretended like he was a monster and if we ignored him, he would stop..” She took a deep breath, “Maybe we were the monsters and his anger and tantrums were his cries for help...” “Zoe..” Cynthia reached for her arm but she pulled away, running up to her room while choking back tears. “..She’s right.”

The two were quiet for a long period of time, reading and rereading every letter and every note, memorizing every photo.

Cynthia held up a photo of Connor and a girl, whose face was completely scratched out, “Who are you..”

___

The next day was a particularly warm day so you and Evan drove over to A La Mode as a victory ice cream run of sorts. You really believed in treating yourself after small, seemingly insignificant, victories such as dropping off a box of precious letters to a grieving family. They needed closure, and you were willing to give it them. Evan, despite talking about A La Mode with the Murphy’s before, had never actually been. You two talked and ate your ice cream sitting in the back of your truck, looking out at the orchard across the street. The orchard was renamed the “Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard”, which made your heart a little heavy. Another reminder that he was really gone.

In the distance, on the other side of the fence sat the Murphy’s who were packing up from their weekly picnic. As they got up to walk out of the orchard, Zoe looked across the street. “Wait a minute..” Her parents stopped walking. “What is it Zoe?” Larry asked. She pointed at the car parked across the street, “Isn’t that the car that Connor painted his girlfriend in that letter? And Evan?” They looked across the street to find the same navy blue truck and a familiar face.

Evan paled, “The Murphy’s are looking at us!” he whisper-shouted. You began to turn around, but Evan stopped you. “No don’t look!” Your head whipped back to him as your face paled, “They recognized my car..” “How could they? It was night time when you dropped off the box and the door barely begun to open as you drove away..”

You smiled sheepishly, “I may or may not have given them a picture of a painting Connor made me of my truck parked beside that exact fence...” Evan facepalmed and gave you a deadpanned look. “Well they’re starting to walk across the street now.”

You shot up, “Let’s go.” “I mean would it be so bad to meet his parents?” Evan asked as the two of you scrambled into the front seats. “I’m just.. I’m not ready to have that conversation just yet.” You reversed out of the parking spot and drove back onto the road.

“Wait!” The Murphy’s shouted to the car as it begun to drive off. “There was a girl driving. Maybe that was her?” Cynthia asked, hopefulness clear in her voice. “She was with Evan, do you think the box of letters were fake?” Larry, always the optimist. “They couldn’t be, they were handwritten in Connor’s handwriting. Even the french notes.”

Zoe thought for a moment, “Well if we’re going to find her, we should probably start with Evan’s place first.” “Who said we were going to look for her?” Larry asked, “I’m not wasting my time on a wild goose chase. She’s already shown us enough about Connor.”

Cynthia turned to her husband, “How could you say that? She could be the one thing to bring us closer to our son. Our son who took his own life because he felt that that was the only path left for him. And you don’t want to try to find her? Find closure? Honestly Larry, what is wrong with you lately!” “I’m sorry. We’ll find her.”

___

The Murphy’s found themselves at the Hansen household. They knew you were there. After all, your truck was parked in the driveway. Inside were you, Heidi, and Evan. You had just met Heidi, but she loved you. She was thrilled to find that Evan had made a friend like you. You hung out with Evan even after learning he lied about being friends with your recently deceased boyfriend, and helped him when he started to rant and breathe heavy about it. You were so kind-hearted, forgiving, and calm by nature, that he was finally comfortable around someone. You were quickly best friends.

A knock at the door startled the three of you. “Are you guys expecting anyone?”, Heidi stood up to get the door as you and Evan turned to each other. He placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I suppose now’s a good time as ever, even though I really only had 24 hours to prepare myself..” You muttered, the two of you walking towards the front door.

The Murphy’s stopped and stared at you. “Are you.. Were you Connor’s girlfriend?” Cynthia asked. You nodded slightly, rubbing your arm as a nervous habit. “I’m Cynthia, this is Larry and Zoe.. We’re Connor’s family.” “I know.”

Heidi invited them in, everyone heading to the living room. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.. We just wanted to thank you for all the letters and photos of Connor. It feels like we’re finally getting to know who he really was on the inside.” You looked up from your lap, “No offense ma’am, but shouldn’t you have gotten to know your own son when he was still around?”

Zoe laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I really don’t think that’s funny.. especially considering you didn’t bother to get to know him either.” You said getting defensive, sticking up for Connor. Even if he was gone, you would never stop fighting for him. You did truly love him after all. “And before you say ‘Connor wasn’t easy to talk to. He would always yell and storm off.’, just think about the fact that having a relationship with someone is a two way street. You can’t expect someone to make an effort if you don’t try to do the same.”

The three looked at her in shock. Heidi and Evan smiling sheepishly in the background. “I..”, Larry started, but trailed off, not being able to come up with a proper response. Cynthia and Zoe looked deep in thought, unable to do the same.

It was quiet for a long amount of time.

“You’re right. You’re right and I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. And the only thing we could do now is learn from our mistakes. We don’t exactly know how we’re going to do that but we’re willing to try. And we’re hoping that you could help us? Help us figure out what to do and help us learn about who Connor was?” Zoe finally spoke up, her parents nodding along in agreement.

You were trying to heal from everything that happened and them putting all their hope on you wasn’t really helping. But maybe grieving together would allow everyone to heal and remember him in a more positive way? At least you hoped.

There’s a lot of hope pinned on others here.

“I suppose helping you all would let us heal.. together?” You said, slightly questioning your own words, turning toward Evan. He shrugged, giving you a thumbs-up. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about Connor unless Evan is around.” You paused, “It’d be nice to have a familiar face around and we’re practically best friends now.. so..” “Yes of course.” The three stood up, walking to the front door, “We’ll come back here at 11AM tomorrow and drive to the orchard for a picnic if that’s alright with the two of you?” You and Evan nodded simultaneously. “Are you allergic to anything dear?”

With the shake of your head and a quick goodbye from Evan and Heidi, the Murphy’s were off.

“Am I doing the right thing here? Connor didn’t even want his family to known I existed! And now we’re going on a picnic with them? Where I have to talk about him?” You sat down, head in your hands as a headache begun to grow. Heidi placed her hand on your shoulder gently, “It’s going to be tough right now, and it’s going to be emotionally draining, I’m sure. But, if you really think that they deserve to know who he really was, that how they perceive him is wrong, then I think you are doing the right thing. You’re helping them, you’re helping yourself, and you’re helping Connor. You did say that he wanted to change the way people saw him. And you’d be doing that for him, even if he’s not physically around to see it happen.”

“Thank you, Heidi.”

___

“It’s really nice of you to agree to meet us here, Y/N. And Evan, it’s nice to have you here too.” Cynthia smiled, putting down a blanket for the picnic. Everyone sat down in an awkward silence.

“So... is.. is there anything you wanted to know that wasn’t already in the letters?” You asked, picking at the blades of grass beside you. Evan slapped your hand away from the grass, silently scolding you in true forest ranger fashion for messing with nature. The Murphy’s turned to each other, silently debating what to say and who would say it. No surprise to you and Evan that the one to speak up was Cynthia. The past couple of hours really showed that she was the only one who seemed to care, at least a little bit, about Connor when he was around, though Zoe and Larry were trying their best now.

“Why didn’t Connor bring you around to meet the family? It really seemed like you brought so much light to his life. I mean, you brought out parts of him that we didn’t even know existed!” “We thought he was a monster...” Zoe muttered sadly.

Your heart ached for this family, they really knew nothing about him.. “Connor didn’t bring me around because he was afraid you’d all ‘scare me off’,” you laughed slightly, “And Connor may have been a monster to you, but the real Connor was never a monster, to me or to anyone in my small town. In the next town over, no one knew who Connor was or what he’d done in the past. It was like a fresh start. Which I knew he desperately needed. I mean, with all the people bullying him, hurting him physically or emotionally or both, and spreading fake rumors about him since he was in the second grade? He was angry and hurting and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he would lash out. But wouldn’t you react the same way? Build up walls so people wouldn’t hurt you? Isolate yourself so people couldn’t get close enough to?”

It went silent again, the only sound was the wind blowing in the summer breeze and the trees rustling in the background.

“She’s right.”

Everyone looked up, faces showing some form of shock. Larry continued, “All that stuff was going on in school and we made it worse for him at home. He asked us for help and we always assumed he was doing for attention. No matter how hard we tried to be a perfect family, we never were and we probably never will be.”

Zoe wiped away a stray tear. “Even though you couldn’t save your kid, maybe there’s a way you could save someone else’s?” He turned to you with a questioning glance. “I mean you have to admit, you’re a pretty wealthy family, maybe you can spend some time donating to suicide prevention hotlines and foundations that were created specifically to help those who are suffering from depression and suicidal thoughts like Connor was? I know for a fact that Connor hated the way that he felt, and would never want anyone to go through what he’d been going through, no matter how much of an asshole they were.”

Cynthia reached over to you, placing a hand on your knee, smiling as tears fell freely from her face, from all of their faces. “That’s a brilliant idea, Y/N.”

___

The picnic went on as you told them stories of your’s and Connor’s adventures together. Jumping over the fence to lay around in the yellow fields of the old orchard, helping your mom arrange flowers in her flower shop (he would always make sure his bouquets were well thought out in their meaning), buying junk food and snacks when having movie marathons on a Saturday night, sketching and painting moments together so you two would never forget them.

With each little story, his family knew more about him and you felt as close to him as you had been before that heart-wrenching summer day.

You fell behind from the group as you all walked out of the orchard. Turning back and taking one last look at the entrance, the fields, and the growing trees of the Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard, you notice a figure dressed in black standing with his back against the fence. He gave you a smile, a genuine yet sad smile, mouthing the words “thank you” and “i love you”, before disappearing in the wind.

#connor murphy #connor murphy x reader #deh #dear evan hansen #mike faist #broadway #dear evan hansen x reader

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edie-k · 3 years

Text

Cost Nothing (R/Hr, PG-13)

Title: Cost Nothing

Rating: PG-13 (mild sexual humor)

Pairing: Romione

Summary: "Compliments cost nothing, yet many pay dear for them." Thomas Fuller

When Harry and Ginny point out a shortcoming of Hermione's, she turns to Ron to set the record straight.

Notes: Thanks to accio-broom for the beta work and lovely feedback.

Happy birthday to Ron! To celebrate properly, I called upon the OG of the Ron Weasley Defense Squad, one Harry James Potter.

Link to AO3 or click below

“Hey,” said Ginny, flopping down on the blanket next to Hermione.

“Oh, are you finished playing?”

“Just a break. Get this - Percy sent an owl and said he, Charlie and George are coming back at 4 to play.”

“Wow, he’s really trying to make this up to you all,” said Hermione, impressed. She glanced up to see Ron and Harry walk towards her, brooms in hand. She used her bookmark to hold her place.

Harry dropped his broom to the ground and laid down between the two of them. “Hermione, your cooling charms are just as great as your warming ones.”

Ron stood in front of them. Hermione shielded her eyes from the sun as she looked up at him warmly. He smiled back and stuck his arm into the air above her blanket. “Bloody hell, that feels good.”

“Come lay down,” said Hermione, patting the blanket next to her.

“I won’t get up if I do. And I was thinking I should run up to the house and grab some drinks and snacks to bring back here?”

“Ah, great idea, mate,” said Harry.

“Cute and brilliant, what more could I ask for?” said Hermione with a smile

Ron flushed and gave her a grin. “I’ll be right back.” He walked up to the house.

Hermione pulled out her wand to expand the blanket and cooling charm to give them a bit more space. As she was putting her wand to the side, she caught Harry looking at her with a bemused expression. “What?”

“I am just not used to that yet,” said Harry. “Especially from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ve never heard you compliment him before. Certainly not on his looks,” said Harry.

“Harry Potter! You know that I think Ron’s wonderful and always have.”

“I’ve thought Ron was great for almost a decade now. I assumed that you did too. I’ve just never heard you say it.”

“You’re joking!”

“To be fair to you, you were quite complimentary of his basilisk fangs idea during the battle, but I otherwise stand by my statement.”

“Ginny!” Hermione appealed to her friend that had been observing silently. “You’ve heard me compliment Ron before, right?”

“To his face? Never. To others? Also never.”

“Well, the two of you aren’t around us all the time,” said Hermione.

“It’s true. There were dozens of minutes over the last year that I was away from you two,” said Harry.

Ginny laughed. “It’s fine, Hermione. You just don’t hand out compliments easily.”

“That’s not true,” said Harry, shaking his head. “You’ve said loads of nice things about me.”

“Did she?” asked Ginny, quirking an eyebrow.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, I’d recommend not triggering that Weasley jealousy. You’re my best friend, and who else was going to bolster and build you up? It certainly wasn’t based on any personal interest I had. I was just passing along the gossip and giggling I’d hear in the loo.”

“And Ron Weasley, bastion of self-assuredness, was in no need of compliments,” said Ginny drily. “Especially when you’re showering Harry in them.”

Hermione’s face darkened. “That’s quite rich coming from someone who compared Ron to his best friends just to embarrass him. I fancied him, and you expected me to tell him that Bridget Nichols wanted to quote, ‘climb him like a tree’? Besides, I seem to recall that he wasn’t lacking female attention at the time,” she sniffed.

Harry sat up, looking nervous. “Uh, look, there’s no need for you and Ron to rehash sixth year.”

“Ron and I have already come to an appropriate understanding on that. What there’s really no need for is the two of you butting into our relationship.”

“You’re right,” said Harry. “We should-”

“It all checks out,” said Ginny, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You complimented Ron constantly, which gave him the confidence to never make a move.”

“Oh, and what about him? It’s not like he was showering me in praise!”

“Well, he did -” Harry stopped his sentence short. “No. I’m sorry I brought any of this up; it was a careless joke.”

“Finish what you were going to say,” Ginny and Hermione demanded in unison. Hermione looked at Ginny, surprised by the synchronicity before glaring and looking back at Harry, who she could tell desperately regretted the whole conversation.

Harry looked between the two and sighed. “All I was going to say was that Ron has told you how brilliant you are loads of times over the years.”

“Well, so has Professor Flitwick, but I didn’t think that meant he was trying to get in my knickers.”

“It’s Ron, though. He hardly ever misses an opportunity to put his foot in his mouth, yet I can still think of dozens of times he fawned all over you.”

“Those aren’t exactly signals a boy gives you to say he’s attracted to you,” said Hermione.

“No, I suppose not,” said Harry, laying back down. He looked as if he wanted to say more but was holding his tongue.

“I think that what Harry said originally is true. Neither of you ever explicitly told us you liked the other, but we always knew Ron thought you were amazing. We had to assume that you thought Ron was too,” said Ginny, the edge now gone from her tone.

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it. She knew they were wrong, but she just didn’t have the proof yet.

They lay contemplating for a few minutes before Harry broke the tense silence. “Ugh, I’m still trying to decide what’s more disturbing - Flitwick trying to get in your knickers or Ron.”

“Ron doesn’t have to try,” Hermione cheeked. Ginny laughed, and Harry’s face contorted.

“What don’t I have to try?” asked Ron. He had returned with a basket filled with cold butterbeers, crisps, biscuits, and a couple of apples, which he set next to Hermione as he eased himself down. While the others stretched around to grab snacks, Hermione cringed as she noticed he looked uncomfortable to have discovered them discussing him. She decided to be straightforward.

“To get into my knickers,” Hermione responded with a grin. His ears burned, but she saw a light in his eyes when he noticed Harry’s continued cringe.

“Oh,” he said as he sat down next to her. “Are you actually wearing knickers today? That’s disappointing.”

Harry broke a biscuit and threw half at each of them.

**********************************

“Hey Hermione?”

“Yes?” It was well after dinner now, and the two of them were taking a walk as dusk began to settle in. The decision to take a walk was met with teasing from all of his brothers that left Hermione rolling her eyes. It was truly only a walk. After years of seeing only the downsides to his status as the youngest brother, he was finally reaping a benefit - his parents were turning a blind eye to the fact they were sharing a bed in a silenced and locked room so an uncomfortable roll in the orchard was unnecessary.

“Yes?”

“Why were you talking about me getting in your knickers with Harry and Ginny?”

Hermione bit her lip while Ron continued on.

“Don’t get me wrong. I would be comfortable taking out an ad in The Daily Prophet bragging about shagging you, and I’m sure they knew well before today. But as fun as it was to make him squirm, I thought we’d been trying to not make Harry uncomfortable.”

“He sort of brought it up.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. After you walked away, he mentioned it was odd to hear me call you cute.”

“And brilliant,” he said with a rakish grin.

“Of course.”

“But how did that lead to your knickers?”

“Oh, it was infuriating. The reason he thought it strange was that he couldn’t remember me ever giving you any compliments.”

“Oh.”

“And I was telling him how silly that was.”

“Right.”

“Obviously, now that we’re together... I’ve been attracted to you for as long as I can remember, but it’s certainly easier to tell you now, don’t you think?”

“Uh, sure. I mean, previously I worried that telling you how gorgeous and sexy you are would get me slapped, and now I’m just curious which one of us ends up on our back.”

“Stop,” she giggled. “But before we were together, I always told you how highly I thought of you.”

“Well, I don’t think you hand out unearned praise.”

“Of course. But I’ve complimented you loads over the years. Right?”

Silence hung between them.

“I love you?” Ron finally responded.

“You agree with them?”

“I really love you?” said Ron.

“You truly don’t think I ever complimented you?”

“You… tried once. When I got the prefect badge in 5th year,” he said.

“The only reason I didn’t have anything was that I couldn’t think of a way to say it without hurting Harry’s feelings!”

“Really, love, don’t worry about it. You said things about my Quidditch performances as well. At least the good ones.”

“No! We.. we cleared the air on all this. Viktor, Lavender, the locket. Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“What would I say? You should have complimented me more? How self-involved would that sound? And now that we’re together, you do compliment me all the time. If I’d said something, maybe I’d question if you were being genuine or not now.”

Hermione was quiet. “I never realized that I wasn’t. It all ran through my head so much, but I guess I never… things would have been so different if I had.”

“We don’t know that.”

“Really?” she said with disbelief.

“Yes, really. I won’t lie - compliments couldn’t possibly have hurt. But you basically asked me on a date, and my mind still couldn’t process that you wanted to be with me. And at that point in my life, the praise to Harry would have still bothered me, so the locket would have glommed onto that.”

“I would never have said-“

“Hermione! Listen to yourself! You didn’t do anything wrong telling Harry those things. His life was shit, and he’s your best friend. It’s not your fault I was an immature prat.”

“I was really just passing along what the girls were saying about him in the loo.”

Ron looked amused. “Is that how girls talk in the loo about boys?”

Hermione laughed. “I’m not even sure what I told you.”

“At the risk of reinforcing what an insecure git I am, you mentioned how tall and fanciable he was and went into all of the Chosen One and Ministry persecution stuff,” Ron said. “I’m just saying that is not how we talked about girls in our dorm.”

“Ah, yes, I did clean it up a bit, but they did at least talk about Harry with a bit of reverence and respect as opposed to treating him like a piece of meat as they did with you. But I’m interested in how the boys discuss girls.”

Ron winced. “Sorry, I never even thought about what she might say that you’d have to hear.”

“No, that was a whole different set of issues. These were other girls.”

Ron stopped. “Other girls? What did - nevermind, it uh, doesn’t matter.”

Hermione was surprised to find that his aborted question hadn’t even bothered her. “I won’t tell you everything, but I did already tell Harry… Bridget Nichols said she wanted to climb you like a tree and -”

“What?!”

“Yes,” she laughed. “And you remember Tori Daylon?”

“She was that short little thing, right?”

“She thought she was the perfect height to make you very happy.”

“Merlin, you girls are just as bawdy as us,” Ron laughed.

“We have hormones too.”

“You never said anything about me, did you?” he asked. Hermione shook her head. “But what type of review am I going to get in the bathroom this year from you?”

“You’re incorrigible,” she laughed.

“Is that a compliment?”

“Absolutely.”

#Ron Weasley #RON WEASLEY DESERVED BETTER #ron weasley defense squad #ron x hermione #romione fanfic #romione #hp fanfic #hermione granger #harry potter

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