these were surprisingly easy to clean up

The Other Prince + A CS Modern Royal AU [Chapter 3]

Modern Royalty AU: HRH Prince Killian has grown up in the shadow of the crown while enduring tragedy and the burdens of being the spare to the heir. With a desire to escape his past, he agrees to play host to the visiting general’s daughter in exchange for an eventual life outside royal bounds. Moving on is never that easy though and he quickly learns that being the ‘other’ prince is even more difficult when you find yourself falling for the girl everyone wants your brother to marry.

Catch Up On Previous Chapters: One, Two
Also on and AO3.

Word Count: 5,064

Alright, here’s the next Killian chapter! Lots of backstory and setting the stage for what’s coming - I know a lot of you are anxious for Killian and Emma to meet and I promise, it’s coming! Stick with me :]

The route to the palace was a familiar one and Killian wagered little had changed since the first time a driver escorted him from Kensington to the heart of Westminster. The streets of metropolitan London were busily lined with citizens taking full advantage of the near noon bustle, scurrying along to various shops and pausing for late breakfasts at any one of the various cafes found in the downtown district. Their lives seemed casual and enviously simple, a fact that Killian tried not to harbor on as he stared out the window of the unmarked black car Liam had sent for him. It was highly likely that his dutiful brother was already well immersed in whatever task list a future king gets handed when he shows up at Her Majesty’s headquarters very bright and far too early.

Such a stubborn arse, Killian thought as he ran a hand over his unamused eyes. It was probably for the best that the Queen was part way around the globe for now. The absence of their lovable yet all too proper Gran and the steaming cup of coffee Marco had brought along were the only two things lending him luck at the moment.

“Around to the back gate, your highness?”

“Aye,” Killian nodded, glancing up toward the rear view mirror with an arched brow. “But are we ever going to agree on you calling me 'Killian’? I’d thought we were well beyond formalities by now, mate.”

He caught the humored smile of the man in the driver’s seat via the reflective overhead glass, accompanied with familiar eyes set in typical analysis and a beard almost all white as a reminder of just how long the loyal confidante had been chauffeuring the royal family around. Marco was a former carpenter and had come from Italy right around the time of the last elaborate royal wedding, beginning his work initially in one of the palace’s many gardens on instructed maintenance and upkeep. It hadn’t taken long for the flower loving and recently wed princess to prod him into an unlikely friendship, one that was built around what blossomed on royal grounds but eventually extended into a bond akin to family.

Killian had heard many tales of those simpler times from Marco on their countless drives together, his favorite including a time when building a royal crib suddenly became a request for the man who was more accustomed to being asked to pull weeds. He had told Killian so much about his mother over the years - how she lovingly bossed him around when it was time to select what to plant for spring, how she’d all but demanded that he attend every holiday banquet as an esteemed guest of their family, and how he’d helped her learn bits of conversational Italian while escorting her between the regal grounds and whatever location she was destined for. It was this kindly man who’d migrated to London only a few decades earlier who had been instrumental in their lives for a number of critical years, certainly long enough to see the high points and the extremely low ones. He’d claimed teasingly several times that there were very few rides more unpleasant than the time he drove the royal couple and their second newborn baby boy - one with 'strong lungs and even stronger opinions on London traffic’ - home from St. Mary’s on a very snowy January morning.

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The Escort- Part 7

Grad School AU! You are a grad student, one year away from completing your Master’s degree. Despite your successful life, your family won’t let go of the fact that you are single. It makes your yearly family vacation a living hell. On a whim, you call the number you find on an ad for an escort to events, and you meet Dean. He’s gorgeous, charming, and perfect to help get your family off your back. What more could you ask for?

Summary of Part 7: Living together forces Dean and the reader to face their feelings.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: Around 2800

Warning: SMUT

A/N: THIS IS NOT THE END! I still have a few things in store for you. Next up: a completely pointless, plotless, shameless smut piece. Then back to the story. XOXO

Living with Dean was the best. It was also the worst.

He was a great roommate. He was clean and considerate, a surprisingly great cook, and he never woke you up when you were sleeping. It was comfortable and easy to have him around, and you had yet to discover those little habits roommates inevitably seemed to have- the ones that always made you wish you could afford to live alone.

But all of those great things were a problem. You were already in love with him when he moved in. Now you knew he really was as wonderful as you thought he was, and it was torture. The initial “scorching fire” love had settled down into the slow, strong burn that comes when you get past the chemistry and fireworks, when you learn who someone really is and still want to be around them all the time.

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As I Feel Myself Fall

[Hello, everyone!  Due to popular demand, this is the second installment in my series where our dear readerchan is a plus size girl.  I want to remind you all again that this isn’t about exclusion, it’s about positive representation for those of us who “fit” into this category, so that we might be able to see ourselves better in a world we’d like to belong to.  I mean nothing offensive by taking this approach and stick to my assertion that ALL bodies are the best bodies, that we are all beautiful and worthy and deserving of love and respect.  If you think you might be upset by the subsequent one-shot for any reason, I humbly request you do not read it.  If you choose to continue, I hope that you enjoy it.  Thanks again, my lovelies <3 ~ Tabby]

When you set out for work around nine in the morning, it’s already unusually balmy, sunshine beating down on the city streets like it might turn London itself into a Salvador Dali painting. One glance down at your t-shirt and jeans and you know you won’t make it like this today. You can already feel sweat collecting at the small of your back, trickling into the tiny gap at the waist of the jeans. Sighing, you turn right back around to change.

Dressing for the weather is often a struggle. On the one hand, as soon as summer even thinks of settling in, you all but become a nudist. Shorts and skirts that don’t quite make it to your knees, tank tops with straps so thin everyone can see the bright pink and white paisley of that one bra you had to spend a ridiculous amount of money on. It’s the only comfortable one you own, because bra shopping is a nightmare at your size; if you can find the cup, the band is made for someone of plastic porn star proportions, and if you get the band size, good luck finding the cup at all.

And, of course, there’s nothing wrong with having those types of proportions. It’s just that you don’t. Which brings us to the other hand. No matter how good you feel in your skin some days, no matter how unbearably hot it might get so that you need to dress so skimpily or risk passing out, there’s always going to be someone who gives you that look.

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Walk in the Rain

Based off the song by Passenger.

Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,757

Summary: The reader helps Bucky through some of his past that still haunts him.

A/N: Sorry I haven’t posted something in a while. I have been super busy with summer assignments from school. But today I heard this song and the lyrics really spoke to me, so I thought I would write something for you guys. I’m really hoping this helps to make up for my absence. Enjoy!

I walked the steps of my father today
Worked till I froze and my face turned grey
and all of my fingers calloused and worn to the bone

Bucky paced back and forth across the living room, worrying etched into his features. You had only left an hour ago to go grocery shopping, but his minds jumped to reasons why you weren’t back. Hydra had found you, he worried. They’d taken you and he would never see your smiling face again. They could be torturing you as he moved into the kitchen, peering through the window to see if the tires to your car have met the gravel of your driveway.

Only the sound of rain greeted him. His mind continued to race; what if you had lost control of your car on the slippery road and were bleeding all over the leather upholstered seats, life draining from your body? What if you needed him, and he wasn’t there?

‘Oh god, oh god.’ He thought, not even hesitating to grab a jacket before storming out into the pouring rain. He barely made it down the driveway before his knees buckled underneath him, unable to support his weight and he crashed into the pavement. Images flared in his brain, replaying the memory of him falling from the train, slipping through Steve’s grasp. He looked around, and instead of seeing rain surrounding him, he saw blood. Red stained the concrete next to him, and all he could do was sob uncontrollably. He couldn’t control the tears pouring from his eyes, mixing with the water from the sky, drenching him from head to toe. He slammed his fists into the hard rock, letting loose a scream that would surely disturb the neighbors. He heard sirens and blinking red and blue lights blurred his vision as his eyelashes clung to his cheeks.

And I felt like a child in a world of men

Trying to capture that someone again

Strong as an ox but slowly turning to stone

A man dressed in a dark blue uniform approached him, a shiny badge pinned on his chest. Bucky was too blind to see that; all his mind willed him to see was the German scientist heading toward him, ready to put him under again. He didn’t want to forget, he didn’t want to forget you. His muscles were frozen, and his breath hitched in his throat. Why was it so hard to breathe? He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the raging pain that coursed through his head. He opened them, only to see a swarm of people watching him from a close distance. Why weren’t they helping him?

The police officer moved closer, kneeling down to his level.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop screaming while medical assistance is on it’s way.” He ushered, resting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Instantly, he lashed out.

“Don’t you dare touch me! I don’t want to forget! You-you can’t make me forget!” He shrieked, shoving the police officer several yards back, making him lose his balance. As a reaction, he pulled out his gun. Bucky rolled his head, cracking all of the muscles in his neck and let loose the most heart wrenching scream he could muster.

“I can’t go back there!” He pleaded, punching the ground, his fists colliding with the pavement and drawing blood upon his knuckles. He shut his eyes and the pictures came again, this time more colorful and vivid. Images of him in his uniform, laughing with Steve. Bucky getting down on one knee, pulling a box from the pocket of his coat. Reveling in your beauty as you fell asleep in his arms. He didn’t want to let that go.

Walking away from this room dark and grey

Smoke hangs in the clouds and the old echo plays

And then there was you, singing along to the radio as you drove down the street, only a block from your house. You drummed to the beat on your steering wheel, bobbing your head up and down. You eased on the brakes as you approached a stoplight, enjoying the new song that played, until the sound of someone tapping on your window pulled you from your reverie and you turned down the music.

“Elenie! What are you doing here? I’m nearly five minutes from home if you-“ You greeted your neighbor with a warm smile, but she cut you off.

“It’s Bucky. He’s screaming in the middle of the driveway. The police are there, Y/N, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” She sputtered, rain dripping down her hair. Several cars continuously sounded their horns behind you, and annoyed, you parked your car next to the curb nearby. You slammed your car door shut and thanked Elenie as you raced back to your house.

Yellow caution tape was drawn around the entire perimeter of your front lawn, citizens decorating the once silent street. You pushed past the crowd of people and ducked underneath the tape, your shoes squishing into the grass as you made your way across the yard. A policeman ran up to you, stopping you with his arm.

“I’m sorry miss, but you can’t cross the police tape. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” His voice was cold and harsh. You brushed past him.

“This is my yard, and that,” You pointed to Bucky, his head hanging low as he sat crumpled on the driveway, “Is my husband. So I’m not going anywhere.” You huffed, making your way toward Bucky.

And the music is soft

And the voice is hushed

And the boy he has loved

And the man he has lost

And I walk out in the rain

All over again

Bucky didn’t even hesitate to lift his head as he heard another person approach him.

“I told you, I’m not ready to forget!” He screamed, and you placed a hand on his shoulder once you had reached him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you over his head in one easy, quick motion, and for a moment, the breath was knocked clean out of you as you landed on the asphalt. As soon as Bucky saw it was you, he hovered over you.

“Y/N, oh my god. I’m so sorry; I didn’t know it was you. I didn’t know you were here” He rested a hand on the side of your face and you smiled.

“Of course I’m here. I married you, for better or for worse.” You cooed, sitting up and pushing the hair from his face. Surprisingly to you, Bucky started to cry.

“I thought they were coming for me again. I thought they were going to put me under and make me forget.” He pulled you into his chest and cried into your soaking wet hair. His shirt had clung to his torso, drenched from the rain.

“You won’t forget me, Buck. I won’t let you.” You soothed, wrapping your arms around him. He let loose a shaky sigh.

“I love you.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your scent, which always soothed him, even if you didn’t know it.

“I love you, too. Now let’s get you inside so you can get changed into dry clothes.” You sat up, looking over his shoulder to wave off the policemen. Hesitantly, they put their weapons away and began removing all of the yellow tape that decorated your property.

You lead Bucky inside the house, heading straight for the bathroom, where you grabbed several towels for him to dry himself off with. You lay out a fresh set of clothes for him on the neatly made bed and knocked on the bathroom door.

“I’m going to go put a pot of water on the stove to make tea. I have to go move the car after so that I can make dinner tonight. I’ll be back, Buck.” You informed him, earning an ‘okay’ from him in response.

I felt the touch of my mother today

Gently pushed me forward again

Closing my eyes but still feeling the way

And I’m clutching at fingers through crumples and creases

I came to my senses and it cut me to pieces

‘Cause I needed more but I was pulling away

Bucky waited for you at the small island that sat in the middle of the kitchen, listening to the hiss of the kettle as the water began to boil. He picked up a picture of the two of you that rested on the windowsill above your sink. It was the first picture ever taken of you, one where you both were sitting on a hideous red blanket that was very itchy to Bucky, but it had been your mother’s so he refused to complain out loud. You weren’t wearing any makeup that day, only the sun enhancing your features, and to him you looked more beautiful that way. He was smiling in the photo, which was rare, and you were laughing, the corners of your mouth turned up and your eyes closed. Bucky was watching you laugh, reveling at how easy it was for him to picture himself being by your side forever. Steve was the one who had taken the photo, although it took several try because his finger was covering the lens the first seven times. But it was beautiful, and so were you. He hadn’t heard you come back in through the front door, ripping your coat off and hanging it to dry. You blinked for a few moments, wondering why on earth Bucky was so stationary. You moved toward him, and saw him holding the photo of the two of you having a picnic. You smiled, smoothing out his hair.

“What’s on your mind, James?” You asked, and his eyes focused on you.

“I’m home. I’m finally home.” He grinned, pulling you down to kiss you, the kettle shrieking in the background.

Walking alone with these legs made of stone
I’m almost dry and I’m almost home

where the photographs smile
And I’m still someone’s child
and my place it is set
so I’ll stay for a while

till I walk out in the rain
like water would stain
And I’m born all over again

Inspired Interview

Request: “I kinda have an idea like, it’s a Chris even x reader, like the reader is the "new member” of the avenger universe as “Steve Rogers” girlfriend so she might be in “some” of the movies but anyway, like Chris and the reader are doing an interview for the new movie coming out, and they joke around, and the interviewer asks like, oh you two together: but they arnt but eventually do get together"- @angelfuzzy2

Summary: After an interview about their next movie, (Name) and Chris get to thinking about their relationship. They care deeply for one another, but should they risk what they already have for something more?

Pairing: Chris Evans/Reader

Warnings: There’s really nothing to warn you about unless count fluff and possible bad characterization as something worth warning

A/N: So this is my first attempt at writing RPF(real person fiction) so you’ll forgive me for any mistakes that I may have made. I’ll admit, this turned out better than I expected it to. This is also considerably shorter than the last two things I’ve written by about two thousand words lol. Obviously, Entertainment Tonight does not belong to me (pretty sure it already exists). It belongs to the good people who created it. I was merely borrowing it for artistic purposes.You can make requests of your own, but my Spring Break is almost at its end so it may take me longer than it did this week. Let me know what you think and enjoy!

“Ten minutes to air!” one of the stage hands yelled to the others as he ran off in the opposite direction to do something or other.

(Name) took a deep breath as she straightened out her dress, her nerves getting to her as she sat in the chair next to Chris. This was her first interview talking about the next Marvel movie, which she happened to play a major role in. She had Chris go over everything they could and couldn’t talk about, because it would be just her luck that she’d blurt out a major spoiler because she was so nervous.

Chris reached over and put a hand on hers, trying to calm her as the make-up artists came over to do a final touch up before they were supposed to start. “You’re going to be fine. They’ll love you. If they like me, they’ll definitely like you.”

She let out a nervous chuckle as she unconsciously put her other hand on top of his. “Thanks, but I have to call BS on that. They love you because you’re a loveable meatball. I’m neither loveable nor a meatball, so there’s no guarantee that they’ll like me.”

“Do not start with me on this. When are you going to see how adorable you are?”

It was then the woman who’d be interviewing them came up and sat in the chair across from them and chuckled, “Save the banter for the camera, you two. The people at home will eat it up.”

“Five minutes to air!” another voice yelled, its message echoing throughout the space.

Another deep breath in and out as (Name) began to center herself, putting her hands back into her lap as she did. She could do this. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been interviewed before. But this time was different. This time she had a hunky, incredibly attractive Dorito of a man sitting next to her, giving her that sincere smile because he knew just how nervous she really was. God, it was times like this she realized just how much she cared about him. But, alas, she didn’t want to ruin the thing she had with the person who just so happened to be one of her best friends. She thought this kind of thing only happened to people in soap operas, yet here she was, experiencing that exact dilemma.

“Hello, and welcome to Entertainment Tonight!” the interviewer’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts. Had it really been five minutes already? “Tonight, I have Chris Evans and (Name) (Last Name) here to talk to about their next project in Marvel Cinematic Universe. Thanks for joining me, you two.”

“Thanks for having us,” Chris smiled, taking the lead.

From there, things went fine, great even. (Name) soon came out of her shell as she saw how relaxed Chris seemed to be. There were the standard questions, like how filming is going, what other projects can we look forward to from Marvel, and the fishing for any plot spoilers to keep the audience interested. Then came the questions about chemistry on set.

“Yeah, I’m not sure who the troublemaker on set is. I think it’s pretty much everybody getting everybody into trouble,” Chris laughed in answer to the interviewer’s question.

“I can tell you who the troublemaker is,” (Name) butt in, “You are.”

“What? No, I’m not!” he exclaimed.

She laughed, “Yes, you are. Who’s the one who hoards the snack cakes from craft services?”

“Jeremy does it too!” he defended with a laugh.

“You’re the one who gave him the idea.”

That had him in stitches, his head was thrown back as he cackled. “It’s true!”

The interviewer laughed as she flipped over to the next notecard in her hand to move on to the next question. “Alright, you two. Everyone knows that in this movie, Steve ‘Captain America’ Rogers finally gets a girlfriend.”

“Key word: finally,” (Name) commented, causing Chris to chuckle.

The interviewer shook her head, a smile on her face as she continued, “Anyway, (Name), you play Steve’s girlfriend, yes?”

“Yes, I do,” she nodded in answer to the question.

“Well, it’s obvious you two are close on set, if that trailer is anything to go off of. But, my question is: Are you two just as close off set?”

(Name) and Chris shared a look before she answered, “If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, then the answer is no, we’re not. Chris and I are just friends. Nothing more.” Not that I don’t wish we were more, she thought to herself.

“Yeah, besides, she kisses weird,” Chris joked. “I don’t think I could handle kissing her every day.” Okay, to Chris, that was a lie. He would enjoy kissing those lips every day if he could. But, they were friends, nothing more. And he didn’t want to ruin that.

“So there’s a kissing scene?” the interviewer asked, suddenly interested.

“I’ve said too much,” Chris stated in a joking manner.

(Name) shook her head, going on to clarify, “Yes, there is a kissing scene, but it hasn’t been filmed yet.” She shot Chris a fake glare, “He wishes he knew what it was like to kiss me.”

“I bet it’s slobbery and all teeth.”

“You want to find out, pal?” (Name) asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“And on that note,” the interviewer said, “That’s all the time we have. Thank you for joining us.”

“Anytime,” her and Chris said at the same time. They shared a look as the interviewer chuckled and continued her sign off. This interview had given (Name) some insight into her dilemma. It had given her the courage to do some fishing. Maybe he felt the same? Or maybe she was just imagining that look in his eyes. Only one way to find out.

* * * * *

(Name) and Chris had decided to go out and get drinks after their interview, just to be able to relax. Seeing as it was a nice evening, they decided to walk to the nearby bar. After all, it wasn’t every day that they got to unwind and enjoy the pleasant weather that LA provided.

Walking side by side, they joked around, mostly about the events during their time on camera. Letting out a chuckle, Chris bumped her, a smile on his face as he said, “You did a great job. The lady interviewing us couldn’t stop laughing at what you said.”

(Name) smiled at her equally smiley friend, “Yeah, well, you helped.” They lapsed into silence for a moment, allowing the two to just listen to hustle and bustle of LA’s nightlife around them. A few minutes later, (Name) spoke “Do you really think my kisses are going to be slobbery and all teeth?” she joked, side-eyeing him.

“What?” Chris laughed, shaking his head, “No, probably not. But I won’t know for sure until you actually kiss me.” Sure, Chris was mostly joking, but there was some part of him that wanted it. He wanted to kiss the woman who had, over the past few months, become his friend.

There was something in his voice that told (Name) something was different. It wasn’t much, but it was something. It was enough of a something to give her pause. Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, she pulled him off to the side, so as not to block the foot traffic, and asked, “Wait… Do you actually want to kiss me?”

“Uh…” He didn’t know what to do. Should he confess? Should he say that, yes, he absolutely wanted to kiss her and her stupidly beautiful face? Or should he play it off as a joke, just like he has been for the last month? Did he take a chance and potentially ruin the already good thing he has with this girl or did he keep his mouth shut and hope that she never found out?

Watching the conflict on her friend’s face gave (Name) her answer. He did. He did want to kiss her. What did that mean? Did that mean that he actually liked her? Oh god, if that were true, that would mean she’d been wasting so much time by keeping her mouth shut about her own feelings.

Now she had to know. “Chris, answer me,” she said quietly. Chris decided to hell with it. He was going to tell her the truth. If she were truly his friend, she would let him down easy if she didn’t feel the same.

“And what if I do?” was his response.

(Name)’s face heat up, much to her embarrassment. It was lucky she’d planned out her next move already. Otherwise she might have just stood there, forever the blushing idiot. “Then, I’d do this,” she stated, surprisingly without her voice giving away the fact that her heart was pounding in her chest. Her hands moved her his face, cupping his cheeks. He was clean shaven in order to play Steve, which left his cheeks touchably smooth. Standing on her tip toes, she leaned in and pressed her lips softly to his, her eyes slipping closed so as not to lose her nerve.

His were unexpectedly soft. She would have thought they would have a rougher texture, but they were soft against her own glossed lips. It was kind of awkward at first, as neither of them expected this to happen. But, once they get a feel for what their lips feel like against each other, they go all in. That’s when it became deeper, plunging into the neediness that was beneath the surface.

The kiss itself lasted a minute, maybe two, before they pulled apart. When they did, they just looked at each, really looked at each other. It was a silent evaluation of all they’d been through as friends, a silent question of Do we really want to do this? (Name) slowly retracted her hands from his face, tensed for the possibility of backlash.

After a few more moments of quiet, Chris spoke, “Well, that definitely wasn’t all teeth and not the least bit slobbery.”

(Name) let out a quiet laugh, her body relaxing slightly, “Does that mean you liked it?”

Chris pretended to think, a poorly hidden smirk forming on his face as he said, “I don’t know. I think I’m going to need another to know for sure.”

She rolled her eyes. “God, you’re a dork, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he said, but there was an unasked question behind it. The question of Am I your dork?

“Yeah, I guess you are,” she said thoughtfully.

Chris’ hands came to rest on her hips, pulling her closer to give her a kiss of his own. This one was significantly shorter than the last, but it seemed to solidify what they both knew to be true. Everything had changed. But, really, it hadn’t. They were still friends, just of the closer variety. This 'thing’, whatever they wanted to call their relationship now, was bound to happen. They knew it. Their co-stars and friends knew it. Hell, the paparazzi standing on the other sidewalk sneakily snapping pictures of them knew it too.

you and peter were worst enemies and you honestly hated him. and he hated you just as much. Hiding your feelings for him was easy, but for him not so much…

I drag my sword from behind me as I walk to a river deep inside the forest of Neverland (kind of made up, just role with it kay? (omfg see what i did there ‘kay’ robbie kay ahahha)), surprisingly, it was clean, really clean. I walked carefully on the log till i reached the middle, taking in my reflection in the river i bend down in a sort of squatting position and get a handful of water with my tightly cupped hands and splash it on my face rubbing the dirt and clearing the seat. It was hard work here in Neverland. Very hard. I continue to wash my face only 2 more times till i hear a voice i had been dreading to hear “well hello Y/N” I look to my right to see Peter Pan walking effortlessly on the log swinging is sword around. I grab my sword, and point it towards him “what do you want?” i ask squinting my eyes a little. He continues to walk slowly and closer towards me almost completely oblivious i have my sword out. He was gorgeous but entirely dangerous. “just wanted to have a chat” he said shrugging his shoulders. “okay, then put your sword down” i say pointing my sword at his. “why?” he says swinging it even more rapidly and continues to slowly walk towards me. “i dont trust you” i say, being alert knowing he can strike at anytime. “well what about you?” he said this time pointing HIS sword at mine. “you really think im gonna attack you?” i ask mocking him “youve done it before, you can do it again” he said lowering his sword so it no longer moves and is just next to his leg. I then lower mine down “so its not like i hurt you, like youve done to me” i say furrowing my eyebrows a little bit. “look, ive said im sorry many times” he says waving his arms out and back into their normal position. “yeah but that doesnt make them any better” i say with a firm voice “well what do you want me to do Y/N, kiss them till they go away!” he yells. 

I soften my face realizing i have been defeated. We stand there starring at each other, in either disbelief or frustration. “youre unbelievable” I say walking towards him hoping he’ll let me pass, because being me i dont want to walk all the way around the river. “move” i say as i am a bit more than a meter away from him. As i get closer i grab his bicep as i make an attempt to push him, he does the same thing and pushes me away “what are you doing?!” i say ask frustrated by his arrogance, i make another attempt you push past him. His face is blank, no emotion, he grabs me by my biceps and places me infront of him, i move my eyes from behind him to his face. Looking at his green eyes as he looks into mine. He moves his eyes from my lips and back to my eyes before he puts his hand on my cheek bringing me closer, before i could process what was going in on, our lips connected. My knees went weak and he could feel me slipping slightly, he chuckled within the kiss and moved his hands to my waist as i snaked my arms to his neck. 

Once we parted i could see his wide grin which was insanely infectious which caused me to grin as well. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out “you dont need to say anything” i whispered, i grabbed his hand and dragged him off the log “its lunch time” i said as we both laughed, once we reached the campsite he never let go of my waist. 

A/N - if you have a request just ask :)