#// this started out very fluffy with a sweet sleeping at last quote but.

[cantalooprat]

Lovely Allergen

What I Liked

the vaguely moumou-like atmosphere it has, i think it's a mix of the way the setting is described---the details of the song household, their school, the smattering of friends, lin rong's restaurant, cotton candy and orange...it just sketches out this very vivid picture of their daily life and how it shaped song yu and yue shizhi into who they are, and i rly liked that! it makes the whole story feel more alive

the food descriptions!!!!! reading this in the middle of the night is like... dang im getting hungry just reading abt it!! war flashbacks to kdrama eating scenes!!!

as usual, i have to mention the ad ost lmao all 3 seasons have such lovely theme songs

song yu with the tags slapped onto him: "cold love interest" "doting love interest" "devoted love interest"

yue zhishi: "cute protagonist" "weak protagonist"

but also they're such a deep, interesting spin on the whole "cute/weak shou" and "cold doting gong" archetype, zhichu rly rly rly writes so well, i felt it even from yybl (but also both translators for yybl n kagmy r both rly rly good as well, which contributes a lot to the reading experience). the way song yu is so cold and detached not just bc "his personality is like that" but bc he has to repress his feelings for yue zhishi, and how he's even losing sleep over it, but he won't ever say anything out loud bc he knows it's wrong... how yue zhishi is so so dependent on him, oblivious to his own feelings, how the initiative has to come from yue zhishi and yet song yu takes it upon himself to be responsible for "leading his little brother astray" but also yue zhishi won't let him take that responsibility alone!! the way i wanted them to be happy because both of them really deserve that happiness... sigh

there r just so many small moments that it's hard to describe in one piece. song yu and yue zhishi's relationship is built upon all of these small moments glittering like stardust, gathered up inside a crystal clear bottle. when exactly did they fall in love? these two probably don't even know it themselves, but before they realized it, the crystal bottle has been filled with so much glittering stardust, their precious memories etched on each fragment

the cute au where they meet for the first time but have long since fallen in love w each other from exchanging their letters, very wholesome very cute i even love its placement (2 chapters right before the very last extra) and how it ties in to the last extra... sigh again

i cried at the letter song yu wrote actually that entire sequence of them coming out to the parents broke my heart

the car scenes how can i not mention the car scenes, zhichu car scenes r absolutely 😔👌

as a whole, zhichu also writes with this... sort of hopeful tone. like, her version of reality is a very very gentle and hopeful one. she doesn't outright gloss over gay relationship as "gay marriage is legal now for plot convenience reasons" but she also treats it as like, something people will eventually accept. her books are honestly just very gentle and warm (even though kagmy has like this melancholic undertone throughout the text, which can't be avoided but also makes it a p heavy read despite the deceptive "slice of life childhood friend romance" plot)

also also that quote on the s3 ad banner art which is also a spoiler to the last sentence of the main story, which is also the reference of s1 theme song title...

What I Disliked

mmh not quite dislike and also i understand why it's like that but like... the slow burn truly was slow, like glacially slow until they confessed n then things went Wild

Notes

ngl part of the reason why i started kagmy is to use this absolutely gorgeous banner art from ad s3

tbh zhichu novels r always kinda heavy lmao she mentioned it too though, how there isn't a "sweet" tag bc it's not supposed to be a smooth-sailing fluffy novel

[swanqiu]

‘cause you brought out the best of me, a part of me i’d never seen

// some bittersweet eric x cho for @ericbrandonrp

[imaginethatimaginethis]

Hello, dear :) I hope u r okay. Can I request quote 19 from your recent list? With Changkyun, please. I would like a little angst with a fluffy ending. Tysm for your work ❤️❤️❤️

Hi my love, thank you so much for your request! i hope, you like this im sorry for this not having a fluffy ending i was so immersed so if you don’t like it please let me know and i will write you another one.. (feedback is very much appreciated, if you don’t like it and if you like it)

im really unsure about this so i hope it’s good

i never proof read what i write bc as soon as i re read what i wrote, i immediately hate it and delete it. so scusi for any typos.

19. “If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.” - Changkyun

it was too cold to even say a word as the piercingly pain shot through your body. it felt like a thousand knives hitting the thousands of emotions that were inside you as they started to bleed.

your voice was even too sore to scream but all the energy left inside you made you take control of what was left for you.

“please, i’m begging you, please, he’s all that i have” you sobbed and with the last strength you tried to pull him out of the officers tight hands.

“miss please let go before we have to escort you out as well”

your arms were strongly grabbed by an police man that was coming behind you, holding you while they escorted your boyfriend into the car.

“miss we have to take you with us for a few questions” you pulled yourself away from the police man and ran to the car, trying to open the door and hitting the glass.

“please open, please please i’m begging you. he did nothing wrong please”

the engine of the car turned on and the only thing you saw was changkyun mouthing ‚i love you‘ before the car started driving away. you tried your best as you run behind it, falling on your knees as you cried out.

that was the only memory you had on this day, and you still don’t know what exactly happened until this date. so fast but so slow.

you opened an envelope, the fifth one this week as you scanned over it.

‚my dearest‘ this is how the letter started. unable to continue you placed the letter back on the table next to your coffee.

you sighed, rubbing over your face once more and when you eyes fell on the small box filled with letters you started crying softly.

3 years and 7 month, that’s how long you’ve kept the very first letter that’s in the box and from this, the letters piled up from week to week.

grabbing the letter from the table you started reading again.

‚my dearest, my love, the only thing that’s in my mind,

i don’t know how to start this letter, even though i always have something to write about that happened in my day. but i feel like this time i don’t really want to tell you about my day.

all these years have felt like a bad dream that i am just not waking up to. no matter what i’m doing it’s always the same bed, the same cell, the same people around me, the same four walls.

i cannot describe you how empty i’m feeling that this has gotten out of control. this was never something i wanted you to see. this was never the life for you, my love.

i feel like this is even to late but i’ve come to the realization that i am ruining your life with this. almost 4 years, and you cannot even visit me. the letters i write to you, the only thing that’s still keeping us from ending it all. i know that you’re reading them and i know that your reading this as well with the strength that’s left in you. i know.

i just wish i could stop your pain and hold you again. smell your sweet perfume and finally feel whole again. finally feel like a human who has his life together and you by my side. but i will probably never have the chance to. it’s not my right to mentally hold you hostage in my heart.

please understand that i would still, with my whole being, do everything and anything for you. i’d shake the world for you but my love, my dearest this has to stop.

i can not longer go to sleep knowing that you would wait another 10 years for me, ruining your life for someone like me. this is not how you are supposed to live. this is not the fate that was destined for you.

i will, maybe one day, come out of here and continue with my life but i will be another man. a man that was forgotten by the world, a forgotten soul. and i do not want you to wait at the gate for me. i do not want you to have my outcome as a goal in your life.

that’s why this will be my last letter to you.

so baby, go ahead, live your life, be the greatest person you already are and strive to be better, enjoy the life that was designed for your heart.

i will still have you in my heart but you will be free and i know, i know that it’s not going to be easy for you. but i want you to try. i know this is hard but please promise me to keep me next to your heart as well.

because if you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.

forever your heart,

changkyun‘

the letter fell from your hands as you pushed your knees further to your face and sobbed harder, wondering how much more you would have to cry until you’re dried out and pass out on the floor.

and once again it felt like a thousand knives hitting the thousands of emotions that were inside you as you felt your body started to bleed this time, it tried to bleed all of your sadness away.

[planes-like-vultures]

hi hello i saw ur incorrect quotes thingy and wish to hear abt ur characters!

OH. MY. GOD. where to start?? okay so ill give you the basics because if not i would be here for hours.

Pax (age 14 they/them) is the main character. theyre non binary and pansexual and have a massive crush on Caroline. they are prone to panic attacks and have severe asthma. (my game takes place in a hospital) and they have been admitted to the hospital because of that. the meds theyve been given cause them to hallucinate . one day, they see a shadow monster at the door of their room and Pax tries to kill it with a steak knife. turns out the monster was actually Caroline (hence all the haha murder quotes in my og post) but the meds were making them see her as a monster

Caroline (age 14 she/they) is biromantic asexual and is head over heels in love with Pax. shes literally the sweetest person ever like oh my god. she loves doing Pax's hair and there is a segment im going to put in the game where theres an opportunity to go on a cute little date with her! shes in the hospital recovering from an open heart surgery and is quite insecure about her scars. she gets flustered super easily (especially around Pax <33)

Scarlett (age 12 she/her) is aroace and has chronic insomnia. she can get very grumpy when she doesn't get enough sleep (which is all the time). she gets very jealous when her friends hang out with other people and has been know to have outbursts of anger. but, she absolutely adores Casper, and treats him like a little brother. she wanders the halls during the nights she can't sleep, and reads a lot when she can't leave her room. she loves romance novels but will never admit it.

Casper (age 8 he/him) has a terrible case of tuberculosis and must wear a mask and gloves at all times when he leaves him room. he looks up to Scarlett and loves her so very much. he's quite mischievous and always tries to sneak out of his room to go see her. he knows that his condition wont get better, so he has been secretly creating a scrapbook to give to Scarlett on his Last Good Day.

Eleanor (age 6 she/her) lost her right leg due to osteosarcoma and has a prosthetic leg. she gets cold very easily so she can be seen wearing a very fluffy sweater. she has a beloved cat plush that she carries around EVERYWHERE named Mr. Mittens (first name Mr. last name Mittens). she's very sweet and adores colouring with the crayons in the play room.

other info

Pax and Caroline are both autistic and have adhd!

Casper came from an abusive home (his parents aren't permitted to see him during his stay), so Scarlett's family was planning to adopt him

Pax and Caroline share the same favourite song (Dance with Me by beabadoobee)

sdhjkjasdh okay yeah thats it!!

[drosera-nepenthes]

A Royal Recluse: Princess Clotilde

Just at the time when, in consequence of the weakness and folly of the republican government, certain French Monarchists are looking to Prince Victor Napoleon Bonaparte as the possible savior of their country, the Prince, whose marriage to Princess Clementina of Belgium recently brought him before the public, was watching by the deathbed of his mother, Princess Clotilde of Savoy, who breathed her last on June 25. The story of this royal lady is a pathetic one and, apart from the interest that is attached to her as the mother of the imperial candidate to the French throne, her personal character was one of rare beauty.

She was the daughter of Victor Emmanuel II, first King of Italy, and of Adelaide, Archduchess of Austria, and was born at Turin on March 2, 1843. Her mother died in 1855, leaving five young children, of whom Clotilde was the eldest, the others being Humbert, the future King of Italy ; Amadeo, Duke of Aosta ; Maria Pia, the queen dowager of Portugal, and a son who died in childhood. The Queen of Sardinia (Victor Emmanuel had not at that time laid violent hands on the independent states of Italy) was an exemplary wife and mother, and her orphan daughters were carefully educated by the attendants whom she had placed about them.

Never was a princess more ruthlessly sacrificed to political interests than the eldest princess of Savoy. When a mere child of sixteen, Clotilde was chosen to cement the alliance between France and Sardinia, and was promised in marriage to Prince Napoleon Jerome, nephew of Napoleon I and first cousin Napoleon III, the reigning sovereign. Princess Clotilde was connected with the Bourbons, her very name was French and was given to her in memory of the French Princess Marie Clotilde, sister of Louis XVI, who married a King of Sardinia ; but allied as she was by close ties of blood to the Bourbons, she had nothing in common with the Bonapartes who occupied their place, and a more ill-assorted couple never existed than the middle-aged, violent, cynical and free-thinking Prince Napoleon and the daughter of the most ancient royal house in Europe, who traditions and surroundings were strictly conservative and religious. Their marriage took place at Turin on January 30, 1859. The bride was sixteen and the bridegroom thirty-seven. He had a handsome presence and was intelligent and well informed and well informed, but neither his private life nor his freely expressed opinions on public matters made him estimable or lovable. His attitude with regard to his cousin, the Emperor, was one of constant opposition, and it was reported that his anti-religious views led him to take part in the banquets organized by a group of free thinkers on Good Friday. Under the Second Empire the French Government was officially Catholic, and Prince Napoleon's hostile and aggressive attitude was pronounced ill-bred, if not worse. Throughout France he was distinctly unpopular.

The young bride, married to this unsympathetic nephew of the great Napoleon, probably had few illusions as to the sum of happiness that awaited her in her new home. There are still some old men living who remember her when she took possession of the Palais Royal, Prince Napoleon's Paris house.: a slight, pale girl, with fluffy, fair hair and bright eyes, not pretty but singularly attractive. Her high breeding stood her in good stead in the somewhat parvenu atmosphere of the Court of the Tuileries, she had a royal dignity all her own, and her simplicity of heart was combined with much quiet firmness. From the first she ordered her life according to the principles in which she had been educated. An early riser, even at the Palais Royal, she gave much time to prayer and to works of mercy, but her piety, says M. Emile Ollivier, a former minister of Napoleon II, “never made her tiresome or intolerant. She believed that the most useful sermon was the practice of the virtues that are taught by faith.” Her husband, although so widely apart from her, acknowledged her goodness. “Clotilde is a saint,” he sometimes said ; “if there were many like her, I believe I myself should end by becoming devout.”

When the disastrous war of 1870 brought terror and shame upon France, the Princess was in Paris. During that fatal month of August every day came news of a fresh defeat, and the revolution that was to break out on the 4th of September was already distinctly perceptible; the infuriated and terrified people made the imperial government responsible for the reverses that so keenly wounded their patriotic pride.

Princess Clotilde was alone at the Palais Royal ; her husband was with the army, her three children she sent to Switzerland, where Prince Napoleon had an estate; but she steadily refused to leave Paris while the Empress Eugénie remained at the Tuileries. There was not much personal sympathy between the two; it was Princess Clotilde's feeling of loyalty that chained her to the post danger as long as there was a semblance of imperial government in Paris.

In vain her husband wrote imperious messages bidding her join her children at Prangins; in vain her father sent the Marquis Spinela to Paris to escort her ; the Princess so yielding in everyday life, was unbending in her decision to remain at the palace as long as the lonely woman at the Tuileries was the nominal ruler of France ; she had shared the splendors of the Empire, and it went against her noble spirit to desert the Empress.

The letter this young woman, a stranger in a strange land, wrote to her father on August 25, 1870, has been quoted by the French papers. It is a right royal letter worthy of the daughter of kings:

“I am a French woman,” she says. “I cannot desert my country. When I married although so young, I knew what I was doing and if I did it, it was because I wished to do so. The interest of my husband, of my children and of my country require that I should remain here. The honor of my name, your honor, my dear father, and that of my country also demand it. Nothing will make me fail in what I believe to be my duty to the end... You know that the house of Savoy and fear have never gone together, and you would not wish that they should meet in my person.”

At last, when the Empress was driven from her palace by the mob, the Princess considered that she was free to follow, but how different was the departure of the two women!

The brilliant and beautiful sovereign, closely disguised, was only able to leave Paris owing to the assistance of her American dentist, Dr. Evans; her young cousin made her exit as a princess. In an open carriage, accompanied by her lady in waiting, she drove to the railway station in broad daylight. The excited people, awed by her courage and dignity, saluted her as she passed out of their sight, a truly royal and saintly figure.

Princess Clotilde lived for some years at Prangins, near Geneva, where she devoted herself to the education of her three children; then, when her husband was allowed to return to France, the difficulties of her married life were such that by mutual consent she retired to the Castle of Moncalieri, near Turin, with her young daughter. Here, in the home of her childhood, she spent nearly forty years. They were years of peace, largely marked by sorrow. Four times only did she emerge from her retreat, once in January 1878, when she heard that her father lay dangerously ill in Rome. She had suffered cruelly from the spoliation of the Holy See by the house of Savoy, and the remembrance of her father's part in the matter prompted her to fly to his bedside. On the way she heard that he was dead, and she sadly returned to Moncalieri. In 1891, she again started for Rome, this time to visit her husband, who lay dying at the Hotel de Russie. Those who saw the Princess during those solemn days can never forget her sweetness, earnestness and gentle patience. What passed between her and Prince Napoleon none can tell, but Cardinal Mermillod a frequent visitor to the sick room, professed himself satisfied, after two private interviews, that the dying man was fully conscious. The Princess, whose married life, it is well known, had been a via crucis, remained near him to the end, praying incessantly for the soul that probably owes its salvation to her intercession. Again in 1903 and in 1904, she left Moncalieri to visit her sister-in-law, Princess Mathilde Bonaparte, whose deathbed she attended.

Her life, as it neared the end became more and more that of a recluse. Her sons lived their own lives in Brussels and in Russia; her daughter, having married a Prince of Savoy, was near to her, and their visits, occasionally brought an element of joy into the silent castle. Last autumn, Prince Victor Napoleon's marriage to the Princess Clémentine of Belgium gladdened his mother's heart. It was celebrated at Moncalieri, and to those who attended the ceremony the most striking figure present was the slight, gray-haired lady, plainly dressed in black, whose eyes had the far-away look of those who are nearing the eternal shore. Even in the days of her youth Princess Clotilde's spirituality struck M. Emile Ollivier. It gave her, he says a singular insight into all questions that touch on right and wrong; she possessed the gifts of the true mystics, “who judge human affairs with a clearness and rectitude born of detachment.” Her chief link with the outer world during the long, silent years of old age was her love for the poor, to whom she gave royally, with a loving kindness that made her gifts more precious. Their grief was great when they heard of her death, and their prayers will follow her remains to the royal mausoleum of La Superga, near Turin, where the daughter of the Sardinian Kings sleeps with her ancestors.

America. United States, America Press, 1911.

[ickle-ronniekins]

it was all yellow

request from nonnie!!! “hi love, wanted to throw out this request before camping ;u; only if you're up for it, for either of the twins: i'd love something fluffy inspired by one of my favorite text posts on this site: she guessed my favorite color first try.. but between me and u.. i didnt even have a favorite color until she yelled out yellow! she was hella excited n smiling like a little kid, so i told her she was right and i havent seen yellow the same since, its in everything. i could probably live in it now. 🌻”

pairing: fred x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 3k

A/N: love me a good cheeky fred. also this prompt was FUCKING adorable and i did try to incorporate the actual quote into my writing but some of it didn’t flow.. so i hope it’s still as good as you’d imagined?? also def listened to coldplay’s “yellow” whilst writing this x

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic | message me to be added, loves!

“Mr. Weasley!”

Umbridge’s voice is shrill, and it immediately pulls Fred out of his daydream-like state, but not quickly enough for him to turn his attention toward his professor and avoid making incredibly embarrassing eye contact with you. The entire class, much to his dismay, turns to glance at him -- you included. It’s unlike him to feel so insecure, so embarrassed, but alas -- here he is.

“Yes, Professor?”

“Is there a reason,” Umbridge hisses, the edges of her lips curling into a rather evil smirk, “that you’ve chosen to completely ignore me during the lesson?”

Fred considers this for a moment. He could take this opportunity to explain to his professor that yes, now that you mention is, there is a reason. A huge reason. He could then proceed to tell you about all of the overwhelming feelings that have seemed to take over him the last few weeks. It could be a grand gesture, couldn’t it? Scooping you up into his arms, sliding a hand around the back of your neck, telling you just exactly what keeps him up at night -- that adorable smile of yours, and the pineapple scent in your hair. It’d be all the castle would be able to talk about, wouldn’t it? Plus, to be able to ignore Umbridge even more and do something so utterly abysmal in the middle of her lesson and have the rest of the students cheer him on, well -- it’s something Fred’s always dreamt of.

“I’d love to see the look on Umbridge’s face if I ever chose to cause mayhem in the middle of one of her lessons,”

“Easy there, Freddie. Don’t want to go getting any more detentions, do we?”

“Darling, mischief is my middle name. I need to prank. My life depends on it.”

“That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it? Just trying to look out for you, is all.”

“You’ve really got that Hufflepuff stereotype of ‘loyal’ down -- you know that, right?”

He supposes, when he thinks about it now, that you were right. You’re always right. He reckons it wouldn’t be such a good thing to cause such an uproar, especially since Umbridge is nearly always on his tail, and is one step closer to knocking Dumbledore out of his post as Headmaster. Fred doesn’t want to give her any more of an edge, does he?

Next to him, George brings Fred back, yet again, from another daydream with a quick kick to his knee. He grips the desk tightly and hopes that his face isn’t flushing bright red. Umbridge’s smirk grows even deeper, and Fred, ignoring his instincts to grab you and run out of the lesson right this instant, merely clears his throat. “No. There isn’t.”

“Good,” Umbridge hisses again, turning her attention back toward the board. “Now, to continue..” Fred relaxes a bit and slumps in his seat, feeling rather grumpy, but his spirits lift almost immediately, and his insides seemingly twist into a tight knot when you send him a soft smile from across the room.

-- -

Fred is shaken awake, only to be face to face with a very cheeky looking George, who then proceeds to throw a notebook straight into Fred’s cheek.

“Oi!” Fred shouts, coming to, bringing his hand to his jaw. “What the bloody hell was that for?”

“You do realize it’s the middle of the day and you’ve fallen asleep directly in the middle of the courtyard, yes?”

Fred kicks the younger twin with his foot, and George and Lee begin to laugh. Fred had been having quite a lovely sleep, thank you very much, and is now annoyed that his brother and friend had chosen to wake him. As he sits up from the bench, adjusting his loose tie and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Lee offers, “You talk a hell of a lot in your sleep, mate.”

Much to his horror, Fred freezes. This whole talking-in-his-sleep thing is relatively new -- he’d never, ever done that before. It seemed to have happened to him a couple of weeks ago, when he began repeating the days’ events -- ones that included you -- over and over in his mind before falling into a peaceful, and rather deep, slumber. It seemed to have happened when he started to look at you in a new light.

“And what exactly was I saying?” Fred asks, trying to shrug off his nervousness.

George and Lee both suppress a laugh and share a cheeky exchange, and Fred feels his heart leap into his throat. “Oh, you know.. mumbling on about lessons, and things. Bits of parchment you need to finish. Normal musings.”

Fred sighs rather dramatically before relaxing again. He hates this whole being-on-edge thing that comes with having a massive, over-the-top crush on you. “Oh,” George continues, his grin only growing larger, “and something about Y/N being the colour of sunshine, or something?”

As Fred’s eyes widen with embarrassment, George and Lee’s laughter only seems to grow louder and it echoes across the courtyard. This grabs your attention from across the way, and you smirk at Fred. You seem to be working on a bit of homework -- you’re leant against a large tree with your bag and robe next to you on the ground. Your hair is pulled back and you’ve got the end of your quill in your mouth, as if you had been pondering something right before you met Fred’s gaze.

“Thank Merlin she wasn’t over here, or you would’ve scared the poor girl away,” Lee says in a mocking sort of voice, which only seems to intensify Fred’s nerves.

Fred can’t help but fall into a bit of laughter with his friends too, even though the mere fact that he’d been talking in his sleep, about you, in the middle of the courtyard, makes his entire body hurt. ‘Thank Merlin’ is right.

-- -

The colour of sunshine. Ugh. How could he have been so painfully cheesy? Fred thinks about this all day long -- through every lesson, through every stroll down the corridors, through every bite of the evening feast. He can’t simply believe he’s said this out loud, even though it’s true. The truest words that have ever come out of his mouth, even. You are the colour of sunshine.

Simply bright and beamingly so -- the most beautiful of yellows.

You, he reckons, are pure warmth -- enough to soothe him on even the coldest of days.

“You know,” your voice, now closer than it seems, makes Fred jump and snap out of his own thoughts, much to George’s amusement, “this whole not-being-able-to-eat-with-your-mates-from-other-houses thing is simply stupid.”

“Why don’t you go and give Umbridge a piece of your mind, eh?” George asks you.

Your grin deepens, but you shake your head and begin to shovel dessert onto your plate. “It’s her own fault if she doesn’t notice a Hufflepuff amongst a group of Gryffindors. She’s supposed to be the Hogwarts High Inquisitor,” you say a bit stuffily, as if to imitate the woman in question, “is she not?”

“Brilliant,” Fred replies as he finds his voice. “An uncanny impersonation.”

You flip your hair over your shoulder and Fred notices a dimple appear on your cheek. He finds himself lost in your eyes as you peer at him softly over the top of your teacup, which you’ve brought slowly to your lips.

Fred’s happy to hear when you bring his all time favorite thing about the magical world into conversation and does his very best to hide his ever-obvious feelings. “Rumor has it McGonagall and Dumbledore have been pleading with Umbridge to let Gryffindor play Quidditch this year,” you tell the twins.

They peer at you with confusion. “What?” they ask together. Fred continues, “Why? What’s she going to do -- ban all teams except Slytherin? Then they’ve got nobody to verse,” he lets a laugh escape his lips.

George huffs a bit before sipping his tea. “She’s such a bloody idiot. No, I will say it louder, Ron,” George shoots his younger brother a look as Ron closes in on himself a bit, “she’s a power-hungry, egotistical toad who has no business running a bloody school.”

“The truest statement,” you point at him and then bite into your cauldron cake, “but no worry -- she’s apparently agreed to the whole Quidditch thing. Now you two’ve just got to smack the bludgers straight at Crabbe and Goyle’s heads. They’re certainly large enough -- should be easy targets.”

Fred cannot help the enormous laugh that escapes him due to your joke; in fact, he’s sort of surprised it’s only gotten the attention of half of the Great Hall, because it seems to have echoed throughout the entirety of the large room, reverberating off of the walls. Unfortunately, though, Umbridge notices and makes a beeline right toward the Gryffindor table. You turn to Fred and George, shrug your shoulders a bit and proceed to roll your eyes at the very pompous “hem-hem” that is too disturbingly sweet and high-pitched in your ears. “Miss Y/L/N,” she says in her most mocking tone of voice, “please correct me if I am mistaken but I’ve assumed by the yellow color on your robes that you are a Hufflepuff and not, in fact, a Gryffindor, as you’ve so decidedly claimed yourself.”

You turn toward her, a very large grin painted across your face, and simply reply, “No need for corrections here, ma’am.”

“Good,” Umbridge says curtly before turning on her heel. “Best return to your house table, then, before we slip you lot into detention, yes? I do hope it was worth the embarrassment, Miss.”

Embarrassment? Please. You stand up from your seat and chug the rest of your tea and pop the rest of your cauldron cake back into your mouth. You lean against the table, reaching across to the other end to grab yourself another pastry, and get as close to Fred as you possibly can. He notices a bit of a twinkle in your eye, something that’s suddenly driving him absolutely mad, when you say to him and only him, “Definitely worth it.”

A very cozy feeling sweeps itself through Fred’s bones.

-- -

The Gryffindors are lucky to have such two stealthy beaters on their team, because Fred and George know the ins and outs of the castle like nobody else. This comes in handy after a playful, late night match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, when the twins are able to sneak the entire Hufflepuff team, and even a few spectators, into the Gryffindor Common Room.

And as if he isn’t excited enough already at the pure theatrics of this entire thing, Fred finds himself smiling even more so at the sight of you, nestled in a corner with a few others, a Butterbeer clutched tightly in your hands, your cheeks rosy and flushed.

He’s reminded of a few weeks ago when he snuck into the Hufflepuff Common Room with you -- very late at night --

“Don’t you trust me?” you’d asked, taking his hand in yours.

His heart had skipped a few beats, if he was being honest.

“Merlin, it’s bright in here!” Fred had exclaimed when you’d both entered. The inviting colours had swirled around him. “How you people get any work done is beyond me. I’d never be able to focus --”

You’d laughed and shoved him. “Fred, you can’t focus, regardless.”

He’d just shrugged and sat down next to you near the fire. The entire room was empty except for the two of you. “I’ll give you that one. It’s just -- it’s so much different from our common room.”

“Well, it’s bright yellow. Plus, it feeds to all of the ‘Puffs' personalities. What did you expect, silly?”

He’d smiled at you, nestling himself comfortably against the edge of the couch. I haven’t seen yellow the same since, he’d wanted to tell you, especially because of the golden colour of your hair. “Nothing more, nothing less. Besides, I’ve got to say -- I’m rather fond of it, actually.”

His heart had nearly constricted at the feeling of you placing your head onto his shoulder. He’d been happy you couldn’t see the shock rising on his face in that of a crimson red colour, since you’d been so focused on staring into the flames. He’d suddenly felt warm -- incredibly warm. He’d willed himself to believe it was the fire, and not the feeling of your soft hair brushing against his neck. “Oh yeah? Yellow your favourite colour, and all?”

I could get lost in it, actually. Fred had to force himself to swallow over his own nerves a few times before he’d been able to say, “You could say that.”

Now, in the Gryffindor Common Room, he darts past a very confused looking Neville and plops himself down next to you, completely ignoring the fact that he’s interrupting your conversation with the others. “Hey,”

“Well hi,” you say, turning your attention toward him. He can smell the pineapple scent of your shampoo and is nearly sent into a dizzying overdrive, but he does his best to focus on the feeling of the cold glass in his fingers. “Great match.”

“Even if we did beat you guys?”

“Yeah,” you reply tersely, “Hufflepuff’s saving their strength for your actual match so they can kick your arses.”

Fred laughs haughtily and scoots a little closer to you on the steps as the others around you both disperse and head off in their respective directions. He can hear the steady pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears and decides to take a leap of faith. “Maybe. Although I will say -- you’ve got to be more careful with your leering, love.”

“Meaning?”

“Pretty sure you didn’t take your eyes off of me the entire time. You were full-on staring.”

Fred notices the pink on your cheeks seemingly deepen a bit, but you don’t let on to any embarrassment. He grins at you. “Perhaps I was. And if you’ve noticed, it means you were watching me back,”

His smile only grows at your mock voice. He replies with the same tone, “Perhaps I was.”

“You can’t do that during an actual match though, sir,” you tell him, bringing your goblet to your lips and sipping significantly, “otherwise you’re going to be distracted and I reckon you’ll be hit with a bludger, don’t you?”

Fred twirls his goblet in his hands, desperately trying to read your face and your tone. He’s having a hard time deciphering. “You do make a good point.”

“Besides,” you continue, a small smirk making the edges of your lips curl, “we can’t have you getting distracted. Although, I understand how difficult it can be -- considering I’m the colour of sunshine, and all.”

It takes a moment and a laugh before Fred’s registered what you’ve said, and you glance back down at your goblet, giggling into it a bit, and he shakes his head before turning to look at George and Lee, who seemingly have been watching you two this entire time, because they immediately glance away and immerse themselves in conversation with others around them.

“And we know how brilliantly blinding sunshine can be, don’t we, Fred?”

Someone’s playing very loud music and Fred wonders how Umbridge hasn’t caught you all yet. Or perhaps, he thinks, maybe the booming just sounds louder in his own ears.

“Almost as blinding as love, d’you reckon?”

Fred feels that warm, homely feeling take him over yet again -- but this time, he knows it’s not from the butterbeer, or the raging fire. He doesn’t even try to pretend. It’s all from you.

“Yeah, yeah -- tease all you want,” he says as confidence engulfs him. He reaches out and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

You place your goblet down on the step next to you. “I wasn’t teasing,” you say very matter of factly, “so much as I was trying to get you to kiss me, actually.”

He purses his mouth into a very smug smirk and watches as your eyes dart down to his lips, and you bite down on your own. He leans in, the rest of the music and chatter surrounding you both seemingly drowned out by the steady pounding of his own heart, when --

“Oi, Freddie! C’mere, mate!”

Clearly Ron’s incapable of seeing that we’re in the middle of something, Fred wants to tell you. Instead, he pulls away slightly and whispers to you. “Want to sneak up to the Astronomy tower?”

“So late at night? How very scandalous of you.”

“Well it’s why you fancy me in the first place, isn’t it?”

He grabs your hand as you paint a very mischievous look on your face, and is about to stand up before you tug on the collar of his shirt with your free hand, pulling him back to you and pressing your lips to his in an electrified climax.

You try to part, but he pulls you closer to him and slides his hand down your leg. A soft moan emits your lips, and Fred wonders if he’d be able to sneak a Hufflepuff girl up to his own dormitory this evening. “Sorry,” you reply, biting down on your lip again, sending him into a complete tizzy. You whisper cheekily, “Just couldn’t wait.”

He smirks at you, hoping his giddiness isn’t blatantly evident in his exuberance, and pulls you to your feet. “Actually..” you say, playing again with his collar, “instead of the Astronomy tower, how about we head to the Room of Requirement?”

“No? Don’t want to look up at the stars, be all mushy, fall asleep in my arms?”

You actually snort through your laughter, rolling your eyes at him. “Yes, yes, of course I do, you sap. But I reckon we should save that for an actual date. Right now, I’d kind of just like to snog you for a few hours, if you don’t mind.”

He shakes his head at you with admiration. “What has gotten into you?”

Another hair flip from you sends warmth through Fred’s veins. “C’mon, Weasley,” you say, tugging his hand, the yellow fire reflecting in the light of your eyes, “don’t you trust me?”

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Synopsys: The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research, and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on a press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. They get together and she decides to stay for a few days in London with him. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ‘honeymoon’ is over...

Heads up: my first language is Portuguese, so that might explain some things here - of course, I wrote thinking about myself hahaha

Warnings for the series: mention of illicit drugs, angst caused by distance, smut (next chapters, very explicit), anxiety caused by paparazzi, and rude random people taking photos.

Other than that, this is just my guilty pleasure writing so lots of caring sweet Tom and fluffiness.

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

This is 2.4k words (approximately)

Later, you were just laying in your hotel room and watching some tv, or telly how they say over here. You wanted to get some sleep and maybe call your parents to tell them about the day. It was so crazy, you didn’t think they’d quite grasp how crazy, but you wanted to include them anyway. I guess maybe especially because of that. Tomorrow you guys had to be at the station super early for the Radio 1 Breakfast with Greg James. 6 o’clock you thought it was that David had told you. You might as well check with him and set an alarm already. So you went to grab you phone for texting him and got a text from an unknown number.

The contact you had saved as “Tom Holland” (with the air quote marks) was calling on Facetime. Shit. This couldn’t be him. Could it? Have you even given your personal number to the producer at Graham? Shit. Just answer it and kill Lukas. You pressed the green button and the screen was dark. There was some music in the background, but it was a little muffled. And sure enough, there he was. Smiling at the phone slightly bellow his eye level. He’s hot. You look like shit with zero makeup and your hair in a crazy pony tail.

“Hi!” He said laughing. “Do you believe me now?”

“Hi…this is embarrassing. Sorry! I have the worst friends and is just like them to try to pull a prank on me because of this” You answered.

“No worries, darling. I’m a little sad you’d think me texting you is laughable though.” He joked.

“You know what I mean! Like I said, Tom Hanks wanting to work together I would have an easier time believing.” You laughed.

“Maybe I want to work together. By the way, I’m glad you did, but for future reference, you probably shouldn’t use your personal number for these things.” He advised you.

“Well, it’s not like I have more than one number so…” You told him.

“Your agent’s then.” He clarified.

“I don’t have an ‘agent’.” You emphasized the last word.

“Well, you should probably get one then, darling. Trust me on this one.” He was walking and the music got louder for an instant and then muffled again. Looks like a bar or the outside of a bar at least.

“Are you in a bar?” You asked him laughing.

“Excuse me, not a bar, a PUB. And no, I’m on the sidewalk of a pub, actually. Going home.” He said. “And you are…?”

You were kind of getting what he wanted from you and that was kind of annoying actually. He’s a movie star for god’s sake. Can’t he get a girl in whatever pub he’s at right now? “Busy actually.” You answered him.

“Oh sorry. Terrible timing, huh? I asked for your number this afternoon, after the show. But the bloody PA just sent me it right now. He might lose his job for this. Took him a lot of convincing, ya know?” He was talking and walking, you could see he was clearly trying to start a conversation and all that in the middle of the street.

“So you just got it and couldn’t wait to text me huh?” You teased.

“Kind of, yeah. The two pints probably helped me build the nerve. I’m not usually like this. I barely facetime my friends.” He told you.

“And in the middle of the street. If you get mugged, I don’t want to be accounted.” You were relaxing a bit and sat on the bed leaning on the headboard. He laughed at your joke. Maybe he was just drunk and not really after a booty call. “I thought you british were famous for spending nights at the pub. Why you leaving so early, anyway?” You asked.

“Got to get up early tomorrow for a work out.” He answered simply.

“Of course you do” You said.

“And I much rather talk to you too.” He said.

Silence. What do you answer to that? Is he flirting with you? He’s definitely flirting with you.

“Ahem” He cleared his throat. “I really did liked your show, you know? It’s really something.” He said.

“You did? Thank you. Means a lot.” You said. “I’m still shocked it’s getting this much attention, to be honest.”

“Why? I’m shocked no one’s done it before. Is such a good idea. But maybe if they’ve done it, it wouldn’t be the same. Cause your presenting is probably what makes it that good.” He had stopped walking and you could hear keys juggling in his hand. “I live really close to the pub. I know” He laughed and you laughed back. “Hey!” He said to someone outside the screen and started to walk up stairs.

“Do you live with someone else? Your parents?” You asked.

“Uhh…no, no. I mean yeah, my mates Harrison and Tuwaine and my brother Harry. It’s just Tuwaine and his girlfriend downstairs though, I think.” He told you while taking off his shoes.

“Hey don’t go cockblock your friend now” You laughed.

“Never. And always.” He joked back. “Thought you’d be out enjoying London tonight, or were you planning on going out later?” He asked you in a thick accent.

“What? No, I’m a serious business girl. No time for shenanigans” You said laughing, so he’d know you were joking.

“Shenanigans” He laughed back. “Your English is better than mine you know?”

“Oh I’m sure” You answered sarcastically. “Flattering will get you far, but lying will not”

“I’m serious. If you haven’t said it today I’d think you’re American. You kind of have a New Yorker accent” He said.

“Yeah? ‘Fuhgeddaboudit’” You said in a thick accent and you laughed together. It was fun talking to him.

“What other languages do you speak?” He asked you when you stopped laughing.

“Portuguese, English…Spanish, Italian, a little bit, and German” You answered while counting your fingers.

“No way. Say something in German. By the way, I’m still here, I’ll just change these clothes.” He said while putting the phone on the nightstand and getting out of the frame. He was taking off his clothes, you thought. And he wanted you to say something in German.

“Nennen sie das Ärger?” You said, without thinking everything through.

“Now say the same in Portuguese” You heard his voice but didn’t see him.

“É isso que eles chamam de problema?” You said again.

“Yeah, portuguese is defenitely sexier.” He laughed and grabbed the phone again to sit on the bed. He was shirtless and with his head on the headboard of the bed. “What did you said anyway?”

“Excuse me, I wasn’t aware I’d have to translate it.” You mocked being offended.

“Oh so it WAS dirty. I thought I was imagining.” He teased you.

“You’re smooth.” You shook your head. “I’m still not saying it. You’ll just have to learn Portuguese, or German.”

“I’ll learn Portuguese if you teach me.” He said. “How long are you here for?”

“Just till tomorrow.” You said. “Flying back to New York tomorrow night.”

“More interviews?” He asked.

“Tomorrow’s the last one actually. But I’m traveling with David, he makes the show with me, and I’ve kept him from his fiancé long enough. That and we have to prepare for big meeting with executives next week, you know find an agent and stuff.”

“I could talk to my agent if you want to, he’s an actors agent but maybe he knows someone for other kinds of jobs” He said. “You don’t have a fiancé to get back to, do you?”

“No. No fiancé or jobs for that matter.” You laughed. “And I’m not even sure what kind of jobs would those be.”

“Publicity deals. If I had a brand, I’d want you to be the face of it. It’s the face of diversity and youth, isn’t it? It’s a beautiful face” He said.

“The face of diversity and youth?” You laughed. “Now you’re the one confusing me with Tom Hanks” You joked and he laughed out loud. “I could use some friendly recommendation though, on the agent thing. I don’t even know where to start looking and sounds like the type of thing you don’t want to ask the wrong people” You added.

“Yeah, sure. He’ll know someone for sure.”

“Thank you”

“Glad to help! Really!” He smiled at you. “So where you going tomorrow?”

“Breakfast show at Radio 1. Greg James I think” You answered.

“Oh he’s great! We were there today. You’ll have a great time! It’s a bit early, no? Am I keeping you from sleep? Do you want to hang up?” He was cute, all concern and stuff.

“Yes, yes and no. I’m enjoying you keeping me from sleep.” You said. Maybe it was the time, but that was kind of bold Ana. Good job?

“Good. I’m enjoying it too.” He said while you were getting under the duvet, getting cozy. “Are you enjoying London? What’s your favorite place so far?”

“I loved what I’ve seen from the car window” You answered sadly. “And all the studios we’ve seen.” You laughed a little. “But since we’ve landed it’s been go go go.”

“That’s a great song though.”

“I can’t believe you got that reference.” You said surprised. You love The Maine.

“I love The Maine. Honest. ‘Where I come from you learn to make the best of things’”

“‘But honey since we’ve met you know you’ve had the best of me’” You mock singed together and laughed when you finished the verse.

“OH MY GOD DO YOU WANT TO MARRY ME?” He joked while laughing.

“YES! AND WE CAN GET ON THE ROAD CHASING INDIE BANDS ON TOUR?” You joked back.

“I mean, that’s the dream, that’s the dream.” He said. “I can’t believe that you haven’t seen London though. Wish you’d stay longer, I could take you some places. If you’d like, of course” He said.

“Don’t you have work? I though movie stars didn’t have time for tourism in their own home town” You teased.

“I’m sure movie stars don’t. Good thing I’m not one.” He said smirking.

“Ok, and where would you take me then?” You asked. Where you really contemplating extending your trip just right now? Get a grip on yourself woman.

“Uh, I don’t know. Parks?”

“Parks?” You laughed.

“And pubs.” He laughed too. “To be honest those are the only places I go to when I’m home. I take my dog on walks and drink with friends.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad life to me.”

“No, I guess not.”

You guys kept talking for hours about everything and nothing. Favorite music, food, drinks, spots for each of those in different cities. You lived in NY but had lived in Berlin before and he was interested in that and you were very interested to hear about the places he’d been, but mostly about London.

“So you actually live here?” You asked him.

“What you mean? London? Yeah.”

“But don’t you work more in LA and stuff? You have a place there too?”

“Uh, no, actually. I don’t work there as much. No as much to justify getting a place anyway. If I’m honest, I haven’t stayed in the same place for too much time, unless I’m off work. And then I’ll be here. Closer to the family. Friends. You know.” He told you.

“That’s nice. It sucks to be away all the time”

“You probably know what I mean. There was a time I was considering getting a place in LA, you know, that whole Hollywood thing. And I was kind of seeing someone there at the time, so that might have had some influence in the decision. We were looking at houses and they were amazing, huge and crazily luxurious.”

“You were going to move in together?”

“No, she was just helping me look for places. Anyway, it didn’t worked out and in the mean time I found this house here so it was for the better I think.” He was opening up to you. “That’s really not for me. That whole life. Mansions, cars, the paparazzi.”

“Listen, I’m not sure how to break it to you. But you might not have chosen the best work line then.” You joked.

“No joke” He laughed. “I know it’s part of the job. At some extent. But I don’t need to go looking for trouble too. This way I’ll just deal with all that when I’m at the states and here I can focus on something else. Spend that money with something else. Spend my time with people that I actually care about and care about me. You know?”

“I like your mind” You said without thinking and there was a while of silence between the two of you.

“I think that’s the best compliment I ever gotten” He said.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” You blushed.

“I know. And that’s why.” He smiled. “I like your mind too. I like that you don’t filter it. You’re genuine” You had blushed and closed your eyes at his compliment. When you opened them he was smiling at you. “You have the most amazing green eyes, you know that? They’re beautiful. And smile too. I love your smile.” You turned your head to the side, like you didn’t understand what he was saying, but you did. You were only studying him.

“Where you getting at Holland?”

“Can I see you tomorrow? Will you have sometime after your interview?” He asked.

“Yeah. I have the day actually, my flight is not until 11 at night, I think. When you want to meet?”

“I can pick you up right after and we can grab some lunch, sounds good?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect” You said and looked at the clock, it was 02:38 in the morning. “But I should probably try and get some sleep now, or I won’t be a real person tomorrow.” He touched the screen on his phone, probably looking at time himself.

“Shit, that’s late. Sorry, I didn’t felt the time” He apologized.

“Me neither” You smiled. You wanted to say more, like how amazing it was talking to him and that’s why time flew like that, how you haven’t felt that in many years. But you didn’t.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. See you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow Holland” He laughed. “What?”

“I like how you call me by my last name. Sounds good. See you tomorrow (y/l/n)”

“I liked how mine sounded in your English accent”

“Yeah? Did I pronounce it right?” He laughed.

“Close enough” You laughed. “Alright, good-bye now”

“Tchau” He said while you hanged up, catching you by surprise.

You couldn’t believe what just happened. Oh boy indeed. You were sure you weren’t even going to be able to sleep tonight, smiling in the dark to yourself like that. Get a grip woman.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: the forest is your only escape from the everyday troubles with your family until you find danger lurking behind the trees. or rather, danger finds you. your fateful encounter with the vampire ravn leaves you wishing for a different life. you strike an unexpected deal with the stranger that will soon turn into something more...

pairing: vampire!ravn x reader

genre: vampire!au, angst, humour

warnings: blood, stalking, mentions of abuse, mentions of rape

word count: 2.1k

part two 🌙 part three 🌙 part four 🌙 part five 🌙 part six  🌙 part seven 🌙 part eight 🌙 part nine 🌙 part ten🌙 part eleven 🌙 part twelve 🌙 epilogue

You were gathering herbs and wild strawberries in the local forest, cheerfully singing a tune you had no idea where you’d heard. The woods were your escape from the daily fights with your family, from the boring chores and the unnecessary bullying you’d been subjected to. The forest was the only place where you felt…yourself. 

You wished you could stay there forever, away from the terrible reality. You sighed quietly. Suddenly, you heard the rustling of autumn leaves behind you. You turned around briskly but you could see nothing. Just the familiar, beautiful woods. You shrugged and kept going. The sound repeated, sending shivers down your spine. You turned around once more. Again, there was no one. There were no bears in the forest, but you had heard the villagers had seen wolves. However, you were not afraid of the animals. You were getting along quite well with them. It was the people you feared. 

Your mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion, you were being followed by a man who wanted to rape you. It was the one thing you were terrified of the most. You started running, horrified by the idea. As if your legs had a life of their own. Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest. You heard the leaves rustling but you didn’t dare turn around. You were now certain you were being followed. It wasn’t just your anxiety and paranoia. You could distinctly hear the steps of someone approaching you.

You tried to run faster but you felt like whoever was behind you was catching up with you. You gulped nervously and just as your mind raced through the worst possible scenarios, you tripped into a large root protruding from the ground, thus, falling on a bed of crunchy leaves. The second that happened, the man who was following you trapped you under his body. You started screaming helplessly, even though you were certain no one would hear you in the middle of the woods, at twilight. You were too far from civilization to be saved. The man grabbed you and forcefully turned you around so that he could face you.

“Please, don’t rape me,” was the first thing that left your lips.

The man eyed you in confusion.

“I had no such intentions,” he admitted.

“Then, why were you following me?” you asked curiously.

“I was thinking of drinking your blood,” he confessed openly.

“Oh.” Somehow, that sounded less terrifying than being sexually assaulted. “Okay.”

The man was completely flabbergasted by your reaction.

“What do you mean ‘okay’? Are you seriously more scared of rape than your blood being devoured by a vampire?”

You nodded truthfully.

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head and released you from his grip.

You were amazed at your newly-found freedom and got up. The vampire had sat next to you casually leaning against a tree.

“Weren’t you going to drink my blood?” you reminded him.

“Seriously? I let you go, why aren’t you running?” the vampire asked.

You blinked at him.

“Um…thanks?”

“I’m no longer in the mood,” the vampire said.

“Why?” you couldn’t just drop the subject. You were too eager to know.

“Is that what you really think about men who follow girls in the woods? That they want to rape you?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” you snapped at him. You’d seen nothing but violence in your short life.

“And you think such men are scarier than men like me? An actual vampire?”

You shrugged.

“I suppose.”

“Why?” it was the vampire’s turn to show his curious side.

“Because if you drank my blood and killed me, it’s over. No more suffering on Earth. But if I were to be raped, I’d have to live with it. With such a shameful secret…and a painful memory.”

The vampire shook his head, almost sympathetically.

“There’s nothing shameful about that. It is the man who would do such a thing to a girl who should be ashamed.”

You were surprised by his morals. Even though he was a vampire, he was adamant about never raping girls, which was somewhat admirable.

“I should probably get going,” you whispered. “That is, unless you want to drink my blood?”

“You are saying that as if you want it to happen,” the vampire smirked.

“Not necessarily,” you just weren’t as strongly opposed to it.

“Go,” he snarled at you, making you flinch. “Go before I’ve changed my mind.”

You already knew that he was fast enough to catch you again. So for whatever reason he was letting you go, you didn’t question it and just ran.

🌙🌙🌙 

A week later you found yourself wandering around the woods again. It was so difficult to put up with the everyday harsh words of your family. They were constantly expecting something of you. When will you get married to a rich neighbour? When will you stop reading all those books and work in the factory? When will you stop being so selfish and provide money for the family? You were so tired of their mean behaviour and their expectations. Why couldn’t they just let you be? Today, you were gathering blueberries and mushrooms. Your forest was once again a place of comfort. Despite what had happened the previous week, you still found a strange pleasure in walking by yourself in the forest. You were far away from the things you wanted to escape. You were happiest when you were alone. This time, when you heard the rustle of leaves, you were bold enough to turn around and not run at all. You had no idea what had gotten into you. But a feeling was telling you that you wouldn’t encounter a rapist but a very familiar face.

“Why aren’t you running?” the vampire from last week asked you in a bored tone.

“Does the chase make it more exciting for you when I run?” you challenged him.

He smiled softly. His features were quite delicate and handsome. Even though you were slightly terrified, you had to admit that he was extremely beautiful.

 “Blood is blood no matter the thrill.”

“Should I run, then?”

“What’s the use? I’ll catch you anyways.”

You approached him bravely and gathered your hair on one side, exposing your bare neck for him. You could see him beginning to lose his composure, his Adam’s apple bobbing in thirst.

“Why are you here again?” the vampire questioned you. “I thought you’d be avoiding the woods after last week.”

“I live to disappoint,” you joked. “The forest is the only place where I feel…”

“Safe?” he suggested.

“Not ever since I met you.”

The vampire looked away apologetically.

“The only place where I feel myself.”

 He nodded in understanding.

“Are you going to...?” you asked. It was obvious what you were asking, you didn’t need to finish that sentence.

The vampire had never met someone like you, so willing to be devoured. It was almost terrifying. But he was so damn hungry…He’d had to appease his thirst by drinking from a wild deer last week. Though he was slightly upset for the poor beautiful animal, its blood wasn’t nearly as satisfying as that of maidens. But there was something about you he couldn’t quite put into words. Something that made it impossible for him to kill you.

“I want to.”

“Then, what’s stopping you?” you continued poking the bear despite your common sense telling you to get out of there.

One second you were standing a couple of metres away from him and the next you were pressed against a tree, his body towering over yours in a way that would have intimidated you if you didn’t know what was going to happen.

“You promise you won’t rape me?” you had to ask.

“A promise is just a promise,” the vampire answered. “Does it mean anything?”

“I suppose not,” you murmured dejectedly.

The vampire lifted your chin in order to look into your eyes.

“Hey,” he said gently. “I promise.”

And with that, he attacked your neck.

🌙🌙🌙

You woke up in an unfamiliar setting. You were in a giant red bed, covered with fluffy pillows and soft silk. You looked around, unsettled. How had you ended up here? Whatever here was…You unconsciously touched your neck only to find that it was carefully wrapped in a bandage. You tried to recollect what had you been doing. You were walking in the woods and then…

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” your thoughts were interrupted by a melodic voice.

“Where am I?” you asked the man standing in front of you.

“My home,” he informed you. “You passed out from the blood loss so I brought you here…Don’t worry, I didn’t rape you in your sleep.”

You opened your mouth to argue and then the memories hit you like a truck. This was a vampire…You had allowed him to drink your blood. And he hadn’t killed you. You distinctly remembered your earlier conversation. You shuddered at the thought of being so reckless and walking towards him on purpose. Not that you had any realistic chances of escaping him, but still. You couldn’t believe you’d been so stupid as to confront him openly.

“You have to eat,” the vampire said and pointed towards a table of red apples, freshly baked croissants and orange juice next to the bed. You were deeply confused and suspicious. Why hadn’t he killed you already? Why was he bringing you food?

“Come on, you need to regain your strength,” he urged you and handed you one of the red apples. You slowly began munching on it, looking into his dark eyes. To him, you looked like a scared little lamb. It was somewhat endearing.

“I still don’t know your name,” you mumbled.

“What’s in a name?” the vampire teased.

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” you finished one of your favourite quotes.

He smirked proudly.

“You know your Shakespeare,” the vampire said. “My name is Ravn.”

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“Well, Y/N, eat your breakfast and you’ll feel better.”

You didn’t dare disobey him and quietly chewed on the apples and the croissants, occasionally taking a sip from the juice. After you finished, your curiosity got the best of you and you asked Ravn a question that had been tormenting your mind for a while now.

“Why didn’t you just kill me?”

The vampire shrugged.

“I was bored. And intrigued.”

“About?”

“Why didn’t you run?” Ravn needed to know.

“Same reason you didn’t kill me,” you chuckled.

The vampire scoffed.

“You’re free to go, by the way. As soon as you feel strong enough to walk on your own.”

Suddenly, your calm expression changed. You didn’t want to go. Your family was just stressing you out, putting you through so much pressure. You were tired of them judging you for your choices and making you feel bad about yourself. Your forest had been your temporary escape but you knew you couldn’t live there. However, if you managed to convince the vampire to let you stay…If he was capable of drinking blood without killing people, you could make yourself useful for him. You didn’t want to return to your prison. You’d much rather be a blood bank than subject yourself to more emotional torment. But you had no idea how to express your wishes without sounding crazy.

“Can I offer you something?” you asked Ravn.

“What?”

“We’ve already established that you don’t want to kill me. You can drink from me whenever you want. On one condition.”

“Name your price,” Ravn responded.

“Don’t make me go back,” it was supposed to be a bargain, but the way you said it sounded as if you were pleading.

Ravn had to admit it was a tempting proposal. He no longer had to lurk around, hoping to find something to eat. Your idea was an easy way out from all the time he wasted hunting. But there was one problem. All his immortal life he’d done his best to avoid humans. He mostly drank the blood of animals. On the rare occasions that he hunted maidens, he always made sure to ask his magician friend Seoho to erase their memories after. Humans spelled trouble. If his secret was exposed, this would mean an end to his relatively peaceful existence. But he was getting more easily tired with time, a sure proof of his animal diet wearing him out day by day. Which is why he’d started following you last week. However, Seoho was away from the village, so he couldn’t use his ability. He had initially intended to kill you, but something about you stopped him from doing so. And he wanted to find out what.

“We have a deal, Y/N,” Ravn announced.

To be continued…

[kneamet]

4th part of misery! Tom. I really love this Tom. Reader is depressed since her punishment. She doesn't write and just lies in bed. She spends her days on crying. Tom tries to cheer her up. However, she is still in bed. Tom wants to make her keep writing. He kidnaps Will and traps him in his own basement. Tom threatens reader to murder him if she doesn't keep writing.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere, kidnapping.

Word Count: 2367

Character: Tom Hiddleston/reader

Summary: You’re a famous author. You get into an accident. When you Wake up, you find out that you were saved by a mysterious person who is quite obsessive about your work.

POV Your

Two weeks. It's been two damn weeks since Thomas, your hated captor, decided to decide your fate. You knew he was too crazy and too obsessed to understand simple things, but that was too much.

You knew that the next escape would not lead to anything good. You felt yourself flinch. Bright, unfilled with obsessive thoughts, the head began to penetrate unpleasant thoughts about what would happen if you disobey him again.

I didn't want to look at my feet, but I didn't want to think about them. All you wanted right now, all you needed right now,was Will's gentle embrace and sweet hot chocolate. You imagined him and you wrapped up in that incredibly soft and fluffy blanket again and watching a detective movie, enjoying it and trying to guess who the main killer was.

Will. Your smile trembled slightly in exhaustion and you felt a small and weightless tear slide down your scorched cheek, but very cold, and radiating only pleasant memories and thoughts. How you'd like to see him again. But, having lost all hope, you could only dream and remember what it was dangerous to talk about in this house in which you lived at the moment.

You didn't have the strength to start writing anything. To continue the "Lost" sequel that Thomas was so eager to see. All you've been doing for the last two weeks, after your harsh punishment that you tried to talk a man out of, is lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling.

That's all.

You've been feeling a little lethargic these past few weeks. I didn't care what was going on around me. All you were interested in was Will, who probably misses you deeply and can't find a place for himself.

Oh, I wish I could see him again. Feel his soft touch on your skin as you both lie in bed; hear his melodic and slightly husky voice; see again his beautiful green-brown eyes that will closely follow the way your fingers run over the keyboard of your laptop.

"You're the best, the most impossible," a voice whispered softly, and you flinched when you felt Thomas's nose in your hair, inhaling the scent. Suddenly, his lips touched the top of your head and you felt the corner of your lips twitch slightly. Contact with Tom was terrible. Terrible and unpleasant.

They were so unpleasant that immediately there was a feeling that you need to take a shower, quickly wash off his weightless touch and kiss. Rub with a washcloth for a long time, rub the skin until it bleeds. Just to wash it off.

Your hands trembled in a slight tremor as Thomas's breath, like the man himself, drifted away from you, continuing to go about their business of cooking.

You saw how much Hiddleston didn't like the fact that you didn't write a sequel to his favorite book and just didn't do anything. I think, yes, I've had the feeling very often that all he wants from you is the continuation of the book. Although his addiction and obsession with you have not disappeared. They were still chasing you, too.

And so, it seems, he decided to cheer you up by preparing a meal. It felt like he wanted to have dinner. Date. And he wants to pretend that you and he are strangers, that they decided to sit at the table and enjoy glasses of wine, looking thoughtfully out the window at this clear snow.

You blinked a couple of times, trying to get your senses in order and focus. There was a very tense atmosphere, or so it seemed to you. You didn't like all the fake stuff. I wanted to tell him, your captor, everything to his face. But you knew you couldn't. I was afraid.

You were rarely in the kitchen. Usually, Thomas would bring food to your room and be there with you. Only a couple of times did he take you out here, or anywhere else besides your room.

It was an ordinary table, standing near the window, which gave a tempting view of the freedom that so attracted you and your eyes; next to it were chairs, one of which you were currently sitting on. Walking, or even standing, was still a problem, so all you had to do was use the wheelchair that just happened to be in Thomas ' house. That's a bit of luck, isn't it?

Across from the table was the main kitchen itself-except for the drawers that held the dishes, and you were sure that somewhere, in one of them, were the sleeping pills that Thomas sometimes used on you. There was also a built-in table where your captor was currently trying to kill a chicken. There was also a refrigerator nearby.

It always smelled different here. At the moment, just toasted meat, steak, apparently, and wine.

Your eyes darted to Thomas. He was wearing a pair of casual black sweatpants and a blue tank top, which showed off his toned muscles. He was wearing a white apron. You let out a sigh, feeling your lower lip tremble and your lungs run out of air. An apron with a quote from your character Kurt Page written on it.

A lunatic. A crazy person who thinks only about how to satisfy his needs, comparable to animals that have found love.

"Honey," Thomas said, looking up from what he was doing and squatting down next to you. The room was very small, so no wonder he came to you in two steps. He took your hands in his and began to rub your palm with his thumb. "Look at me," a stern voice that gives you goosebumps. Your heart began to beat and beat in you, drowning out all the other noises, including the man's words. You looked up at him, not daring to disobey him. "I know I'm not perfect. But doesn't that make me human?" he quoted a quote that was written on his apron. "I love you, my dear. I love very much."

***

POV Thomas

A couple of hours later

Anger was eating into his brain, filling every last drop. So that's who his favorite writer loves. This... a creature that looks like it hasn't slept in days and isn't taking care of it? So that's who you've been thinking about these last few weeks?

Thomas clenched his hand into a tight fist, feeling his nails dig painfully into the chapped skin. His indifference to this person, but filled with anger towards his beloved, shifted to Will Jordan, the manager, and, he restrained the outbursts of anger — he wanted to leave at least a drop of reason in him-your boyfriend.

The suddenness of this man was very annoying and extremely unsympathetic. I wonder what you, his favorite girl, found in this man? In this incompetence? But okay, you've got him, Tom, and he's so much better than that fucking Will who always took his writer away from him.

His dark hair, dark brown, was curled in small curls, but at the moment it was slightly bloody from the man's resistance; his eyes, as far as Thomas could remember, were either blue or green, but that didn't really matter. After all, all he was interested in was how to get his beloved girl to write.

Thomas didn't like the idea of you lying in bed for the last few weeks and doing absolutely nothing. No, he was just trying to cheer you up, but your pessimism only destroyed all the desire in him.

And then an idea popped into Thomas ' head. And why not involve someone who is very close to you in this case? The person you'd do anything for?

And let Hiddleston consider himself that person. He was sure that if you just catch on some points, in moral terms, then you will definitely do everything as he asks. Isn't that what love is all about? Isn't she pure and beautiful?

With a final kick to Jordan, who had not recovered from the shock of so many hours, and a kick to the side that turned him over, Thomas checked the key one last time and closed the door behind him, walking in the direction of such a room. He wants to help you so much.

"Honey, I have a surprise for you," the man said, smiling and opening the door.

He saw your tormented body. His mood immediately changed. It was constantly changing. It never depended on Tom.

Oh, poor thing, such were Thomas ' first thoughts when his keen eye caught sight of his beloved child in such a state. She lay curled up in the blanket, crying, not sparing her own tears. The pillow was already wet, and the flow of tears, as well as a small roar, did not end.

***

"Why are you crying, Sarah?" the soft voice of the boy who was standing near the half-open door and anxiously looked at his sister, who could not restrain herself, crying, afraid to stop.

Thank the Queen, my parents weren't home.

"Hey, honey," he walked around the room, sitting down next to his sister on the bed and touching her delicate back, starting to rub it with his small hand. "Sarah, you can tell me, really. I promise I'll keep my word to no one not to tell, " the boy promised, smiling reassuringly. There was a small chuckle from the nurse.

***

Her hair was disheveled, lying untidily on the pillow, and her eyes were red. It was too painful for him to look at his beloved in this state.

With a quick step, he walked over to her and brought her to a crouch in front of her face, brushing a stray lock of hair over her ear out of sight. He saw his girlfriend's eyes widen in a little fear. Was she afraid of him? No, no, no, she must love him, not fear him!

"Get up, dear, I have a present for you," he would say, shaking her gently. Although, most likely, it was not a gift, but a real threat in the form of a person and what would happen if she did not follow his order to write further.

Ignoring some of your mumbling, he grabbed your hands, and painfully pulling them away, lifted you up, forcing you to sit up in an upright position. The tears stopped flowing, but the throat and fur coats continued to tremble. Thomas smiled, gesturing at the vehicle he'd brought from the other side of the room. He was standing there on purpose. His beloved should not have access to the door.

Grabbing you by the armpits, making it very painful, Thomas was still able to drag you to the chair, fastening the handcuffs on your right leg. He knew you wouldn't be able to escape, but it was a precaution.

"Come on, honey, we'll take a look," he said, locking the door behind him and leading you to the stairs.

***

POV Your

It was scary. Very scary. It was the uncertainty in your captor that really scared you. What was he up to? Did he kill someone while you were in the room, working on your possibly imminent death?

"You'll like it, I promise,"he whispered in my ear. Suddenly, you stopped. You quickly began to look around. You were here. If you go up these stairs, you can see Thomas ' room, where he keeps his secret. "Here we are." After performing some light machinations, he finally opened the door.

"Surprise!"

Your eyes immediately widened. My heart was pounding loudly, and it felt as if the rhythm had accelerated to such an extent that it was ready to explode and was driving at high speed on the oncoming lane. A drop of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his lower lip trembled again.

Right in front of you, unconscious, tied by his hand to a small post, lay Will. Your sweet boy Will. So scruffy, battered, and covered in blood. Did this bastard do this to him?

"What did you do to him?" unable to withstand the pressure, you curled your lips, trying to pull away and not even thinking about the consequences that could happen if you resist.

"It's easy, honey," Thomas said, and as he walked over to Will, he kicked him again and put his foot on his stomach, which was covered in a shirt that was torn in some places.

"Don't you dare touch him!" The veins in his neck were slightly swollen. You tried to resist these acts as much as you could. But unfortunately, the handcuffs could not be broken.

Thomas smiled, making some gestures with his hands. "Don't yell, honey, it's okay."

Your eye twitched. The previous apathy seemed to have disappeared. At this point, it was necessary to save Will. Just him.

"I don't like your so-called apathy at all. It doesn't suit me," he said, grabbing an axe that stood against a gray wall whose wallpaper was peeling.

Her gaze was troubled. It was unpleasant. What if he kills him? Something must be done urgently. You can't leave him without help. You swallowed a nonexistent saliva. His teeth were biting painfully on his gums. There was nothing to help.

"And I thought, very strongly and for a long time: what if I touch the person that my beloved girl protects the most?" He tightened his grip on his axe, the tip of which was red, and swung it slightly.

"Don't kill him!" The tears started to flow from your eyes again. It was very painful and dangerous for the person you loved. It can't end like this.

"Honey, don't cry, you know I don't like your tears," he murmured in a gentle voice that oozed softness towards you. "You just have to understand and agree to my terms: I don't kill your boyfriend and let him go, and you continue to love me and write a sequel to Lost, or I kill him. So, your choice, honey?"

Tears flowed. They wet your white T-shirt. Her lower lip was trembling. It was scary. My hands were shaking.

"I agree."

[hotpinkhoshi]

delicate | jaebeom drabble

pairing: jaebeom x reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

word count: 1.3k 

prompt: “you’re so pretty.” asked by me myself and i, because i couldn’t resist.

a/n: i can’t even write a summary about this because it’s really nothing... just cute new relationship feels! i wrote it in like an hour this morning and decided to post it in time for jaebeom’s birthday. barely edited but i do think it’s really cute so enjoy! also listen to “delicate” by taylor swift for the ultimate fluffy experience.

God, this movie was boring. 

It was Jaebeom’s choice, though, and you’d kept your mouth shut. It was his birthday and the rule was that he got to pick the movie. Your relationship was still very new, and you couldn’t bring yourself to fight him on it. 

The movie, one of those quiet pretentious indie films, was about halfway through before you started getting jittery. You couldn’t help it. The theater was dark, and there was nothing for you to look at to distract yourself. Except Jaebeom. 

You found yourself turning your head, your eyes traveling up from his neck to his jaw, flexing as he chewed on some of the popcorn you’d bought him—not without a fight, of course, he was old fashioned in that way. But you won in the end. Your eyes followed the curve of his jaw to his cheekbones, sharp and prominent, to the twin moles adorning his eyelids. Even shrouded in darkness, he was breathtaking. 

“You’re so pretty,” you whispered, before you could stop yourself. 

“Eh?” he asked, turning just a fraction towards you as his eyes flicked from the screen to your face. 

So you repeated yourself, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re so pretty,” you whispered against his skin, your breath fanning over his face. “I just wanted you to know.” 

You half expected him to shush you, to tell you to watch the movie, but you were starting to think Jaebeom would let you get away with murder. No matter how you annoyed him or playfully nagged him, he took it in stride and sometimes managed to dish it back twice as bad. 

“I’m pretty?” His brows raised and he turned, all the way this time, until his nose brushed against yours. “Not handsome? Rugged? Sexy?”

“Nuh uh.” You shook your head, rubbing your lips together to hide a smile. He coaxed it out of you eventually, though, when he nudged his nose into yours in an eskimo kiss. “My boyfriend is prettier than me.” 

Boyfriend. You loved to say it out loud. 

Jaebeom let out a breathy laugh. “A lie, if I ever heard one.” 

Another kiss to his cheek. “It’s your birthday, I would never lie to you on your birthday.” 

He turned his head, catching your lips with his, soft and sweet. “What do you think of the movie?” he asked, his hand reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. 

You cleared your throat. “It’s good. It’s… yeah, it’s not bad.” 

When he kissed you again, he was smiling. “Liar,” he spoke against your skin as his lips drifted across your cheek. “You hate it.”

You sort of despised the way he made you stutter as he pressed featherlight kisses into your skin, making a path of goosebumps from your cheek to your jaw. “I don’t- no, I don’t hate it,” you protested weakly. 

His chuckle against your skin made you shiver. “It’s okay, I hate it too,” he assured you, pulling away and cupping your cheeks in his warm hands. “In fact, I was going to ask if you wanted to get out of here. I can’t imagine it’s going to get any better…” 

“Oh, thank God,” you whispered, surging forward to press a firm kiss to his lips. “I was so worried you liked it and I was going to have to break up with you because you have shit taste in movies.” 

It took less than a minute for the two of you to gather your things before you were practically running out of the theater, both holding in your laughter as the few other people in the theater glared at you for making so much nose. 

By the time you got to the car, you were both breathless and panting, having continued running from the theater out of the building, though you had no reason to do so. Though you were both well into adulthood, he made you feel like a teenager again. Your heart pounded as he pressed you into the side of his car and stared down at you, still half smiling. 

It was freezing, not even halfway through the frigid winter, but you felt hot inside. Jaebeom had a way of filling you with liquid heat with just his gaze, so intense and overwhelming at times. 

“Thank you for this,” he told you, hands trailing down your arms until his fingers laced through yours. “Even if the movie sucked. It was worth it.” 

You pressed your teeth into your lower lip as you tilted your chin to meet his eyes. “You’re welcome. Next year, maybe we should just find something on Netflix.” 

Jaebeom chuckled and brought one of your hands up, pressing his lips into your cold knuckles. “Well, the night is still young. Want to grab some food, take it back to my house, and find something better to watch?” 

Leaning up on your toes, you placed a chaste kiss to his lips and squeezed his hands. “Absolutely.” 

Later that night, as Jaebeom held you on the couch while one of his favorite films played on his TV and you surrounded yourself with plates upon plates of takeout, he whispered that it was the best birthday he’d ever had. 

The words filled you with a certain warmth you couldn’t quite identify. All you knew was that you wanted to be by his side next year, the year after that, and the year after that. 

“Jae?” you whispered, shifting so that you could see him more clearly. 

“Hm?” His eyes stared down into yours as he gave you a squeeze. All of your limbs were intertwined, but you’d never been more comfortable. 

“I really like you,” you admitted. It wasn’t what you wanted to say, but it was close. “Really really like you.” 

There was an amused smile on Jaebeom’s lips. “I like you too, sweetheart.” A kiss to your forehead. “More than like, actually.” 

You pulled back, eyes shooting up to his face. Had you heard him right? Maybe you misunderstood. 

“What do you mean?” you asked, carefully. 

“Ah…” Jaebeom’s cheeks flushed, shaking his head as he played with the bottom hem of your sweater. “I don’t usually… well, I’ve never-” he paused to take in your features, eyes wide and half hopeful, half terrified. “I love you. You have to know that.”

It felt like your heart soared out of your chest in that moment. “I…” you swallowed. He’d been in love before, you knew, although he never said it explicitly.  He had alluded to it a few times in quiet, late night conversations. But you’d never gotten this close to someone before. It always ended before it got this deep. 

“I’m not just saying this because it’s your birthday,” you started. You found it hard to look him in the eyes but you needed to. You needed him to see the truth in them. “I love you. I love every second that I’m with you, I love your laugh and your dreams, your… questionable taste in movies. Your pretty face.” 

He laughed at the last one, rolling his eyes as he poked your side. You squirmed in his grip and held back your giggles. 

“I’m being serious here! I know, maybe it’s too early to say it, but I love you.” The more you said it, the more real it became and the more you got used to the idea. 

As the night went on, Jaebeom made sure you knew how loved you were. He let you pick the next movie, even allowed you to eat the last bite of his black bean noodles. He didn’t even say a word as you quoted every line alongside the main female lead in your favorite romantic film. 

He proved his love, over and over that night, especially after he carried you to bed and the layers of clothes between your bodies seemed to disappear. The room filled with passionate moans, whispers of love and pleasure. It wasn’t the first time, but he made you feel like it was. 

Just before the two of you drifted off to sleep, sweaty and exhausted, Jaebeom whispered to you once more that this was the best birthday he’d ever had. 

[3pirouette]

Fic: An Experimental Design (3/?)

Title: An Experimental Design By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Distribution: AO3  Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Sequel to “What Number?”, also prompted from Steggy Bingo Bash Prompts.  Takes place about a week after that fic.

Chapter 3: Military Sanctioned Cohabitation

A/N: For the Steggy Bingo Prompt “Science Experiment.” This chapter is also inspired, in part, by the following quote from the movie Waitress, “I hope someday somebody wants to hold you for 20 minutes straight and that's all they do. They don't pull away. They don't look at your face. They don't try to kiss you. All they do is wrap you up in their arms and hold on tight, without an ounce of selfishness to it.”

~*~

Howard stared at them in disbelief. “You mean you…” he rolled his wrist around, watching as Steve turned a peculiar shade of red in front of him.

“Fondu.” Steve filled in quickly to end the torture, his face turning bright red. “Well, almost.”

Peggy rolled her eyes and huffed. She was still exhausted and already far past embarrassed, the use of euphemism was only prolonging her discomfort and wasn’t helping them at all. “Skin to skin contact helps, but then the quality of the pain changes. It only completely resolves once I’ve achieved orgasm.  We’ve been dry humping like teenagers, Howard.” She squared her shoulders and looked him in the eyes.

Howard’s mouth hung open, his eyebrows at his hairline for a moment before he cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. They were sitting close, but not touching, across from him in his lab. It was late morning, and he’d emptied anyone and everyone who might overhear by kicking them out for lunch. Howard leaned forward, putting his hands on his knees. “And it’s only Steve?”

Peggy licked her lips, suddenly anxious. “When I fell in the briefing room, Colonel Phillips touched me. It felt like he’d torn my skin off.” Her eyes shifted between the two men. “I haven’t touched anyone else since Steve pulled me from the lab.”

Howard held out his hand slowly.

Peggy looked between Steve and Howard, and at Steve’s gentle nod, his promise that he’d be there for her if anything went wrong, she reached out and gently pressed her fingertips to his.

Relief flooded her face as she grasped his hand tighter. “Nothing.” She took a deep breath, smiling at both men. “Nothing good, nothing bad. Just… nothing.”

Howard chuckled as he let go of her, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in my life to hear that a woman felt nothing at my touch.”

Steve frowned, holding out his hand. Peggy took it and they all noticed her shoulders immediately relaxed, even though she was already happy.

“What just happened?” Howard asked, looking almost frantically between them. “What did you do?”

“I’m holding her hand,” Steve said harshly. After he left Peggy sleeping in the medical room he’d gone immediately to Phillips’ office where he’d been yelled at for over an hour. By the time Phillips ran out of things to say, Peggy was awake and asking for him. They’d barely had time to brush Peggy’s hair and find her some clothes before Howard was rushing them into his lab. Steve, who hadn’t slept in almost two days, knew he was unusually cranky and didn’t much care. “It calmed her down. Is that really that complicated, Howard?”

Peggy turned, looking at him, eyes reproachful. “Steve…”

“I haven’t slept since we left,” he leaned forward, putting his hands on his head and pressing his eyes shut tight. “I’m sorry, I’m exhausted.”

“Right, long few days,” Howard mumbled, even though he’d never, ever heard Steve bark at anyone like that, even going days without sleep. “I can understand that.” He didn’t understand it, though, and added it to his list of bizarre symptoms. Howard stood, zipping around the lab and coming back with a small ring with two keys on it. “You should get some rest.”

Steve and Peggy both looked at the keys, but Peggy beat him to the question. “What’s that for?”

Howard smiled and dangled them. “Seems dangerous to keep the two of you apart, and Phillips wants the you off base for a while. It’s an apartment just outside of London.” He bounced the keys, making them jingle in front of their faces. “Military sanctioned co-habitation.”

“Howard…” Peggy began to protest, but Howard held up his other hand, stopping her.

He dropped his hand and shrugged, handing Steve the keys. “You actually don’t get a say in this- it’s more of an experiment than anything.” He sat back down. “You told me the longer you’re apart, the worse it gets, right?”

Peggy nodded, still skeptical. “Correct.”

“Well, have you two tried not being apart?” He held out his hands, waiting, but neither could answer him. He already knew that they hadn’t, that they’d separated to their respective bunks every night like the stupid, rule following idiots they were. “Right. Well, there’s our first experiment: Cohabitation for the night.” He pointed at the two of them, eyes serious. “Legitimate research here. Touch each other, hang out, but no hanky-panky, got it? Clothes stay on, yes?” Steve and Peggy nodded. “I want to see if proximity, casual touches, can keep this thing at bay.”

Peggy’s jaw tightened. “What if it can’t?” she asked quietly, her fear only partially hidden by how calm she was.

Howard just shrugged. “You two do what you gotta do, then we try something else.” Howard caught Peggy’s eyes, holding her gaze. “I never want to see you, or anyone, in that much a pain again. But if Dugan can’t find me anything to go on, if he can’t even get me a clue as to what the hell they did to you, then I’m going to have to keep you two apart just so we can figure it out.” Howard dropped his head, taking a deep breath. “You use the numeric pain scale, right?” Steve nodded. “It gets above a three you do what you have to do.”

~*~

It was small and sparsely furnished, the way most things seemed shabby and not quite what they used to be since the war had started. Peggy slipped her duffel off her shoulder and walked around, hands gently gliding over surfaces as she passed them, leaving Steve behind to lock the door and settle their bags. The front room was serviceable: a little coffee table and a small couch and a radio. The kitchen was little more than a nook, but it was useable and she tried not to think about when the last time she’d actually cooked herself a meal was.  The bathroom was small, but cleaner and more private than anything on any base she’d seen. If the water was more than lukewarm, that alone would make this little experiment worth it.

She stopped at the door of the bedroom.

It had been months since she’d last slept on a real bed with real sheets and soft, fluffy pillows instead of the harsh, all weather canvas cots and bunks in flimsy tents and drafty bunkhouses the SSR provided. The bed took up nearly the whole room, mocking her.

“When I make love to you, Peggy, it’s not going to be up against a wall or behind a medical tent or in some goddamn mudhole where we’re both wondering if we’ll be caught any second. It’s going to be on a soft bed with nice sheets so I can take my time and kiss every inch of you, ok? I’m not… you deserve better than some tryst in the woods, ok? You deserve better and I’m going to make sure you get better.”

Steve’s voice echoed in her mind, his promise so sweet so long ago.

That choice, the choice to wait and discover one another when things were calmer, when they had all the time in the world and no duty but to one another, had been stolen.

Stolen by men behind surgical masks and clipboards.

Men who’d stripped her of her clothes and dignity.

Men who’d watched as her body had burned between pain and passion and she’d writhed on the table like some kind of snuff film actress.

A sob escaped her lips, biting and harsh. It surprised her in its ferocity, but the emotions behind it didn’t surprise her at all. She’d been holding them back for too long, trying and failing to channel them into her work.

Steve was behind her in an instant, his strong frame supporting her when her knees nearly buckled as the waves of emotion washed over her, tears pouring from her eyes. He spun her in his arms, tucking her gently to him, whispering words that made no sense to her in her hysterics.

Steve gently lowered them both to the ground, the wooden floorboards creaking below them as he held her tight.

~*~

Peggy woke up in the bed, tucked tight under the blanket, alone.

It was dark out; there was only blackness beyond the curtains, but there was light in the room coming from the crack left in the door. Beyond the room she could hear Steve puttering about in the kitchen. She took a deep breath, the sting at the back of her eyes from crying a feeling she hadn’t had in a very long time. She rubbed them, feeling worn out.

Steve had held her as she’d cried until she had spent herself. It might have been minutes, it might have been hours, she wasn’t sure. She vaguely remembered him lifting her in his arms, remembered him wrapping her up under the quilt then wrapping his body tight around her, her eyes fluttering closed with exhaustion.

It wasn’t surprising that her body was drained. Between the emotions and the physical sensations, she’d been through every extreme she could think of in the last day. Her limbs felt heavy, her stomach was flip flopping, and her head ached fiercely.

She rolled to the side and the sharp scent of Steve’s aftershave filled her nose. She took another deep breath, and felt some of the tension in her body drain.

Perhaps Howard was on to something, after all. She pealed herself from the bed, the chill in the room enough to make her shiver, but not enough to remind her of the cold of the front.

She padded quietly out of the room, squinting at the light as she emerged.

Steve smiled from where he stood at the small stove. “Good nap?”

Peggy pushed her hair behind her ears and nodded. “What are you making?”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Chicken noodle soup.” He stirred the contents of the pot, “It was all that was there. Lots and lots of canned goods.”

Peggy’s smile was small, and she licked her lips. Slowly she moved over, hugging Steve tight from behind. Her head fit snugly between his shoulder blades, and she felt a bolt of calm move through her as he rubbed his hand over hers. “Thank you.”

He let his fingers lace with hers. “For what?”

“Everything.”

He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the side of her thumb fiercely. “Always.” He set the spoon he was holding down and turned in her arms, wrapping her tight in his embrace. “I love you, Peg, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

She was successful at keeping her tears at bay with his words, but her breath still shuddered a bit as her heart pounded. She didn’t let go, but held him tighter, and he didn’t seem to mind staying right there with her. After a long moment, she smiled into his chest. “Despite everything, this is nice.”

Steve hummed in agreement, his hand cupping the back of her head gently, combing through her curls. “Not looking over our shoulders, wondering if someone’s gonna catch us.”

“Being able to hold you whenever I want.”

“For as long as I want.” He kissed the crown of her head, smiling softly. He rocked her gently back and forth, but cut the motion short and pushed her away as he turned quickly, flicking the dial on the stove off as the soup bubbled over in its pot. “Ok, maybe not as long,” he laughed, reaching for the towel by the sink.

~*~

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, Steve’s feet flat on the floor and Peggy’s feet in his lap as he quietly sketched. She was trying to read the same novel she’d been attempting to get through for two months, but it couldn’t quite hold her attention. Every few minutes Steve would ponder his next line or curve and drop his hand to her ankle, rubbing gently.

It was a wonder, these small touches. They seemed so taboo, yet so natural, and it felt completely right to give in to the need to simply touch one another all the time. They’d held hands through most of dinner, the soup easy enough to navigate with one hand, and Steve had kept his chest pressed to her back as she’d quickly cleaned the dishes, his hands resting gently on her hips.

It felt odd to be the master of her own time, to not be needed urgently here or there, to not have a meeting weighing on her mind or a report due on the colonel’s desk. She’d shoved the paperback in her duffel hastily, thinking maybe she’d finally be bored enough to invest in the mediocre love story.

Steve’s hands were infinitely more interesting.

The way he carefully kept his pencil away from her skin.

The way he stroked gently in the same pattern over and over again.

The way his hand was warm and calm and never demanded more or strayed higher than mid-calf.

She was calm. Serene.

She didn’t even feel the slightest tingle of pain.

Hours ago, the idea of being pain free, after weeks of dealing with near constant aches and stings throughout her entire body seemed unattainable. Now, it was happening and within her grasp. She sighed happily, causing Steve to look up at her, hand still gently moving on her ankle.

“You ok?” he asked, slightly concerned.

“Zero,” she smiled softly at him, her eyes warm. “Nothing at all. It’s… blissful.”

His hand pressed firmly against her leg as he smiled. “I’m glad.”

~*~

Peggy hesitated before coming out of the bathroom.

The shower had been delightful, the feeling of the water on her skin without the underlying sparks searing through her made her muscles melt with relaxation. She’d taken her time, pinning up her hair and stretching out the little bit of night cream she still had left to try to last another day. When she’d finally looked at herself in the mirror, the calmness evaporated a bit at the image of her in her ill-fitting, army issue pajamas with her hair pinned up and devoid of any make-up. Even though they’d agreed that things would stay strictly to casual touch, she still felt a pang of disappointment that the first time they were sharing a sleeping space that wasn’t a hastily constructed tent in a warzone wouldn’t be the romantic affair she’d often daydreamed about.

With a deep breath she stepped out of the bathroom and into the small bedroom. The only light was from the bedside lamp, illuminating Steve as he sat on the side of the bed, waiting for her.

He swallowed heavily and looked for all the world like the skinny, awkward boy she’d first met. “I wasn’t sure what side you wanted…” He trailed off as he stood and gestured to the bed; freshly made, pillows fluffed and waiting.

She got the feeling that he was somehow trying to impress her, standing there in his own army issue pajama pants and slightly threadbare undershirt. He didn’t seem put off by her appearance, either, and she tried to feel good about it. The thought warmed her, but did nothing for her own nerves.

She shrugged, moving past him into the dim room. “No preference, really.” The words came out far more confident than she felt, her hands tugging at the ends of her sleeves. She stepped to the far side where she had woken up earlier this afternoon. “Shall we?”

Steve nodded, pulling the covers back on his side as she pulled back hers. They both gingerly got into the bed as Steve reached over and turned off the light with a soft click, bathing them in darkness as they both settled.

“Ok?” Steve asked quietly.

“Oh yes, yes,” she replied quickly, staring up at the ceiling.

Silence stretched between them for long, quiet breaths.

“This is weird, right?” Steve asked suddenly.

Peggy laughed, a feeling of relief flooding her now that it had been said out loud. “Oh yes, quite.” She turned on her side. “Not how I imagined this at all.”

“This?” Steve turned his head, and she could make his outline out in the dark.

“Sharing a proper bed.” She held out her hand and he took it reflexively, squeezing tight.

Steve didn’t think twice before lifting the blanket and tugging at her hand. “Come here.” Peggy slid over, cuddling against his side without hesitation. “That’s better. Finally get you in a nice, soft bed and you’re all the way over on the other side of no man’s land.”

“Howard said no hanky panky,” Peggy muttered, nuzzling against his chest. “The closer I get to you the higher the potential for panky.”

Steve chuckled, gently sliding his hand over her shoulder. “Yes, but he did also say casual touching. This is casual.”

Peggy hummed happily, already feeling the pull of sleep. “Yes, and it’s lovely.”

~*~

Dugan stepped over the debris, cursing under his breath. Morita’s words behind him weren’t that different.

“You think they left us anything?” Morita asked, picking through the rubble of the abandoned base.

“Don’t know,” Dugan dropped his gun to his side, reaching down to pick up an abandoned waste paper basket by a desk. He turned it over, but it was empty. “But we better find something if we’re gonna help Peggy.”

“We bring back every single piece of paper we find,” Jones said, traipsing past them, “we leave nothing behind.”

[duskholland]

Alright, we’re starting in the SFW Harrison pieces. I can only send five anon pieces, so expect there to be four of these done along with this first piece. If I chose to just send them then I wouldn't have to do four then the last one, but I wanted to let you know what I was doing, though I may able to combine them. Also, sorry this has taken so long, but I’m getting there. It’s been a bit much since December for me, but your stories are the first I’m going to write about, so enjoy hon! Also, hope you’ve had a good day, and I hope you enjoy me blowing up your askbox! ❤️~♉️

++++

He doesn’t like sleeping in empty beds~

“Don’t like them. Too big, too cold, too… Just, they’re lonely, y’know?” He sighs. “Let me stay. Please?” If this quote isn’t the realest thing I’ve read. Sleeping alone sucks, but then again, I may hate sleeping with someone else, I don’t know 🤷‍♀️. Anyhow, I love how soft and sweet it is, and the way Y/n is just wondering if he’ll ever feel the same, but honestly, I think he does and that’s what makes my heart happy. This is so soft and adorable, and I love it ❤️~♉️

You’ve got a bit of sexual tension with your co-star Harrison~

I’m already expecting something soft yet spicy here 🥰. I don’t normally pull end quotes, but the end of this piece just like set me off in a crush way. I’ve fallen for this piece, and I don’t know if there’s a topper. It’s soft, spicy, and so so so sweet. “And when you pull back to meet his sparkling blue eyes, you know your connection runs deeper than the surface.” Such a perfect fic, so beautifully bloomed, I’m kind of dead right now 😂❤️~♉️

You’re a bit jealous of his co-star~

If Y/N isn’t totally, completely me in this piece, I’m so dead. I was getting angry, I felt those emotions, the jealousy, the worry, the uncertainty, and of course Harry is the friend that knows despite the two people that should know having no clue. Love that he’s such a good friend in this, but this quote is another end one, but I needed toooo! “I’m in love with you, Y/N. The only person I want to be with is you.” The way this quote sent me isn’t even funny. I can never have favourites with your pieces, I’m telling you! ❤️~♉️

He shows the engagement ring off to his mum~

The sweetness of Y/N setting up and arranging a birthday party for Harrison and that being the moment where Harrison just like loses it. Like he just felt it swarm him, leaving him falling so much deeper in love with her, and my heart was so so so full for this. This being what prompts him showing his mom the ring because even his mom can see that she’s the one for him, my heart is so full for it. He rummages through it and then procures a black velvet box. “I got it last week,” he admits, passing it to his mum. “Do you think she’ll like it?” That he’s at all nervous says so much because he’s worried that maybe she won’t say yes, maybe she won’t like it, but she’d say yes in a heartbeat, and she’d adore the ring. This was soft, fluffy perfection! ❤️~♉️

You love your best friend Harrison~

This quote was like perfect here, “Harrison, I… I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretending that they’re you.” Because god the heartbreaking feeling that shot a hole in my heart, it hurt ma’am. Then you went and did this. “Y/N,” Harrison murmurs. His fingers pick up your chin, and he gently forces you to look at him. His eyes are so blue beneath the night’s sky. “Why would you do that, when you could just be kissing me instead?” And oh my goddd, you sewed my heart together perfectly here, no hole left, no pain, just complete love. I love this because it could’ve gone so wrong, but you just showered fluff upon fluff upon soft, saccharine fluff on us. ❤️~♉️

That is all of your SFW blurb pieces, and I can’t pick a favorite because they were all so beautiful that I don’t know what I could possibly choose. I’ll do the NSFW today as well since it’s almost five in the evening here. So, your box will be well and truly blown up by me ❤️~♉️

Okay, I said I’d do the NSFW ones as well, but personally, I’m not very good at writing responses to those. I’m going to go ahead and do the OneShots though! Also, I love your NSFW pieces as much as the SFW pieces, and these ones were so so so 🥵🥵🥵🥵 ~♉️

If You Feel The Same | Harrison Osterfield~

So, I love this. The way it started made me feel like I was about to be shattered with angst though, so I was anticipating more than what we got. I love that Sam is so supportive and that their friendship is so well played out here, genuine teasing and just letting go with each other, that’s the best friendship. I absolutely loved the flashback which brought the angst I was waiting for, and damn did you deliver there Oof! “With careful hands, Harrison pries you away from his chest until he can meet your eyes, his blue irises twinkling sadly. “Is that what you really want?” Jesus that sentence, fuck if that didn’t just pull my heart with it, I can’t even! “He shakes his head, fluffy curls resting against your pillows. “Got everything I need right here.” This quote just put everything back together and made my heart soar. I love this piece so much; it's wild, stellar details, amazing emotional progression, and Jesus my heart went awe at 3:33 in the morning. ❤️~♉️

Say Goodnight | Harrison Osterfield~

I’m not going to lie, before I even read this, I’m nervous for angst because it’s exes to lovers and that is making my heart construct in my chest. Okay, here we gooo! Jesus fuck, already breaking my heart int he first two minutes of reading- “Harrison reluctantly pockets the chain, his eyes lingering on the solid curve of the H. “I could never forget about you, Y/N.” Fuuuuuuudge it hurts. “I don’t want to say goodnight yet,” Harrison says immediately, words falling into one another. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Y/N. Can we please keep talking? Just for a bit.” He pauses, his voice breaking. “I miss you.” Okay ma’am, did you have to do this to me though?! I do was like one of you better call the other back dammit, and thank fuck it was Harrison.

“His mouth shifts up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N. Please, can we get back together?” His words are desperate, but they echo the things you’ve been feeling for months, and hearing them is such a relief that you simply have to kiss him again.” I’ve used so many quotes that I should’ve just done a reblog at this point, but holy hell I absolutely love this piece. Hands down it’s my favorite piece out of all of your Harrison works, blurbs and the OneShots.

Love this one so much, it was a beautiful emotionally rollercoastered set up, again I know that’s not a word but it’s all I can think of right now. Anyhow, I’m finally done with Harrison and will be moving to Harry, but I kind of need to go back to sleep cause it’s like 3:40 in the morning and I have to be up at six… ❤️~♉️

So, I decided to read Adore because it’s the only Tom piece I haven’t read... I’m not sure that was a good idea cause my mind is fucked and I have to do stuff for my wordpress blog now 😂 so anyways... Adore

Adore || Professor! Tom~

Ma’am… Ma’am… what the fuck… this has got to be the hottest piece I’ve read.. I had to take a fucking break, you just… holy fuck. I can’t even think properly, firstly the fucking tension that is so palpable I could feel it buzzing under my own skin! Then, Then, Then you went and had y/n try to get his attention and she did, holy hell. I can’t… you had the perfect balance between steamy and fluffy and my heart aches holy hell, riled me up. Okay, I’ve gotta stop with all that cause Jesus there’s so much I could say. “Then don’t.” Tom runs his hands all over you—your hair, your face, your neck. He holds you so close it threatens to consume you. “I can’t promise anything, and I don’t know what the future might be like for us, but…” He blushes, thin lips jerking into a smile. “I know that if you’re by my side, as my girlfriend, we can get through it.” My favorite Tom Piece, but Sucker Punch is still up there and Bloom still holds my heart completely. You’re amazing!! ❤️~♉️

---

me reading these:

I WOULD DIE FOR YOU I WOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUULD. every time you quote stuff back to me i go 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 AHHHH. thank you. it’s so surreal reading all these fragments from pieces i wrote up to six months ago, and to know that it’s still able to give someone joy is just ... unreal. thank you SO much. i have reread these all on multiple occasions fhkjdhfjkd. and ADORE!! goddddd thank you for what you said about it there too :’))) thank you for enjoying it, and sharing your thoughts.

[wondersofdreaming]

Te in perpetuum et unum diem amabo

Title meaning: ‘Te in perpetuum et unum diem amabo’ translated: I will love you forever and a day

Characters: Chris Evans x female reader

Word count: 1.356

Warnings: Fluff, very fluffy

Author’s note: Written for @thefanficfaerie’s ‘Heather’s life in song’ challenge.

I do not own any of the characters in this short story besides the reader, who is a figment of my imagination.

Song chosen: ‘Truly Madly Deeply’ by Savage Garden

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

“Sweetie, that’s the wrong spot. It’s supposed to go here.” You told your boyfriend. You pointed to the hole in the shelving unit you had bought at IKEA.

You had moved into his house a week earlier, but as you were unpacking all your things, you noticed that you needed more shelving for your books. Chris had nearly keeled over when he saw how many books you actually owned. A whooping of more than one thousand books. He had wanted to turn one of his spare rooms into a library for you, but you couldn’t wait for him to have enough time to build the shelving system you dreamed of, so Kallax from IKEA had to do for now.

“You wanna do it?” He asked with his signature sexy smile. He was teasing you. You could see the challenge in his blue eyes. You lifted one of your eyebrows and accepted the challenge by taking the screwdriver from him. As a woman, you wanted to prove that you could do anything he could, and the Scandinavian in you were too damn stubborn to let him win, so you collected all the pieces together all by yourself, while Chris was walking Dodger.

Chris was watching you put your books into the holes of the shelving system when he came back. You arranged them in genres, then in the author’s last name, then in publication date. You were very meticulous about your books, they had to be sorted in your system and no one else’s. Chris had learned that the hard way when he had borrowed one of your Japanese cookbooks and put it back between some fantasy books. You had at first moved it back and told him not to mess with your books, and to remember to put it back in its rightful place. He had chuckled and said that it was just a book. Oh boy, had he been wrong. You had told him that your books meant more to you than anything else you owned. Your books were like your children, in the not so weird and creepy way, they brought you comfort during the hard times, the sad times, the lonely times and even during the happy times. They were there to lead your thoughts away from missing Chris when he was abroad filming, or when he was sleeping in, you would go out to the backyard with a cup of coffee and read.

You turned around as Dodger ran towards you, wanting attention. You sat down on the floor with a box of photographs beside you as you put the eager dog in your lap. Petting his chest just the way he liked it. His tail was thumping on the hardwood floor.

“Look buddy, this is from the time your daddy and I went to Switzerland to go skiing.” You said and showed Dodger a photo of you and Chris in snowsuits, heavy winter boots, wearing thick gloves, matching puff ball hats and ski goggles. You were carrying your skis and he, his snowboard. He had asked the ski instructor to take a picture of you. It had been a perfect sunny day in the Alps, on top of a mountain, and a long way down. You had been lucky none of you had broken a leg.

“That trip was for our one-year anniversary.” Chris gushed excitedly and sat down next to you.

“It sure was. We should do that more often, go on trips together, and bring this little doggie so he doesn’t feel abandoned.” You giggled and put the photo in front of your biography books.

Chris chuckled and pulled out another photo. It was of the two of you again, this time he was carrying you in his arms, standing in the ocean. You were both laughing. You remembered that picture, a minute after Charlie; your brother, the professional photographer; had taken the photo, Chris had dropped you into the cold water.

“Christopher Robert Evans! You will pay for this!” You spluttered. Water dripping from your hair into your eyes. You started stalking him as a preying lioness. He laughed as he moved further out into the ocean with you closing in on him. He wanted to get caught, you could see it in his smile. You tackled him, but being he was fit and solid muscles from his workout as Captain America, he didn’t budge, more like you fell backwards into the water.

“And this is from that beach day with our families in Hawaii.” You put that photo together with the self-help books.

“What else you’ve got in here?” Chris asked as he started pulling out more photos. There were photographs of your family, more of you and him, his family, Dodger, your friends, but the one that caught his eye was at the bottom of the box. He collected a red frame with the letters ‘LOVE’ engraved at the bottom. The selfie was you and him lying on an air mattress out in the woods. You were kissing his bearded cheek, and he wore a big goofy smile. You had been dating a few months at that time. He had arranged for you to go camping, out in the middle of nowhere. You had been skeptical in the beginning but relented in the end, to make him happy. All you wanted was to see his beautiful smile, and as you snuggled with him on the mattress looking at the stars, you felt the serenity and the calming effects of the woods seeping into your soul.

“Y/N? You asleep?” He had whispered. You had shaken your head no. He turned, so you were face to face. You could sense the seriousness coming from him. He caressed your cheek with his thumb. He took a deep breath before leaning in to kiss you. It was sweet, turned passionate, as he pulled you closer.

“I love you.” He murmured against your connected lips.

That was the first time you had admitted your love for one another. It had been perfect.

“This might be the first photograph of us.” You admired and put the photo on the shelve with survival guidebooks.

“And hopefully not the last.”

Later that evening you went for a walk in the park closest to your new home. The sky was full of blinking stars. Then you saw a shooting star.

“Hurry Chris, make a wish!” You exclaimed and closed your eyes. Your wish: to be with Chris forever. As you opened your eyes and turned around, you found your boyfriend on his knee, an open ring box in his hand. The ring was magnificent. A golden band with a solitaire diamond, a simple but elegant design.

“Y/N, I am truly, madly, deeply, intensely, passionately, fiercely, inexplicably, eternally, unconditionally in love with you. I will climb mountains, swim through the ocean, collect all the stars in the sky for you. I will walk through fire, earth, water, and air for you. I will move heaven and hell for you. And to quote that song by Savage Garden you like so much: ‘I’ll be your dream. I’ll be your wish. I’ll be your fantasy. I’ll be your hope. I’ll be your love. I’ll be everything that you need.’ Will you please make me the happiest man alive and marry me?”

“Actually, it goes: ‘I’ll be your love, be everything that you need. I’ll love you more with every breath, truly madly deeply do.” You teased him.

“Just answer him, for Pete’s sake!” You heard your brother yell from behind some bushes.

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, I’ll marry you, love.” You said with reassurance, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You had me worried there for a second.” Chris whispered as he pushed the ring on your finger.

“Then don’t mess up the lyrics to my favourite song.”

He pulled you in for a kiss as a camera flashed behind you. Charlie kept taking photos, until he was satisfied, he had gotten the perfect shot.

“Te in perpetuum et unum diem amabo.” You said.

”I will love you forever and a day.” Chris translated.

[wienerbarnes]

Whatever It Takes (5/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Doctor!Reader

Word Count: 2,362

Prompt: Doctor AU

Warnings: nothing! fluffy stuff!

A/N: sorry this is late again! tee hee hopefully ill be forgiven w this chapter! i was proofreading and i honestly think this is my fav chapter :) anyways enjoy! last chapter next friday!

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Where have you been for the past two days?”

You’re greeted by Dr. Abraham and Dr. Jordan as you return to the hospital later in the afternoon. Walking into your office felt like returning home after a long trip, which, is essentially what you did. You’ve never been so exhausted in your life, you never even bothered to put your heels back on, shoes hanging from the tips of your middle and ring fingers and blazer hanging around your shoulders.

“Whatever happened to our race car driver?” You ignore Dr. Abraham’s question and plop yourself down behind your desk, a deep exhale exiting your lips as you almost drool at the thought of your bed.

“She had heatstroke, like I said. She was released this morning. Did you have fun on your vacation?” Dr. Jordan sarcastically asks.

“I was actually-“

“Don’t say you were with the Avengers.” Abraham cuts you off.

“Okay, okay. I was actually in Midtown helping some rich jerk treat his son’s sniffles. The lookalike that came was one of their security beef-heads who likes the Avengers a little too much, you happy?” You retrieve your bag from the drawer in your desk that you had left behind two days ago.

Bucky escorted both you and Dr. Curtis out of the Avengers Tower, ordering a separate private car to take Dr. Curtis to the airport while he drove you back to Brooklyn himself. The car ride was nothing too special, simple flirts and teases sent back and forth amongst one another over the light radio music. You even almost came close to holding his hand. That was a couple of hours ago.

“We have a new case actually-“ Jordan begins but you wave your hand with furrowed eyebrows.

“No, no, no.” You refuse, “We’ll start this again tomorrow.” You begin to gather you bag and tug your blazer over your shoulders again, feet still bare.

“But it’s only three P.M.-“ Jordan tries to stop you but you gather your bag and shoes once more and walk towards the door anyway.

“Goodnight!” You call out as you walk out of your office, the deep sighs of your employees fading as you get farther and farther away from your office.

The walk to the elevator feels as though it takes forever, and the elevator ride itself feels as though it takes longer. Finally walking through the lobby of the hospital, you’re extremely excited for the l-o-n-g night of sleep you’re going to get when you get to your apartment. As you near the main doors, you see a figure dressed in all black sitting on one of the benches outside the doors. As your steps slow and you get closer to the door, what you suppose is a man lifts his head to look at you and they quickly stand.

“They let you out of the ice box early?” You greet Bucky as you open the door and walk outside.

“Very funny. I’m here to take you up on your offer.” Bucky says, stepping closer to meet you halfway on the sidewalk.

“You want to quit the Avengers to work for me as my personal assistant at a shitty hospital in Brooklyn?” You ask to confirm.

“No,” Bucky chuckles, “I actually meant your offer on showing you some ‘enhanced interrogation techniques’ is how you put it, I think.” Bucky clarifies, hands lifting up in air quotes.

“Oh! Um, now?” You ask, blush rising on your cheeks.

“No, you goofball, I’m trying to ask you to dinner, I wanna take you out proper.” Bucky spits out, giggles falling from his lips.

Your blush gets impossibly deeper as a shy smile grows on your face. His smile and small dimples and wrinkles around the corners of his eyes are so cute. You struggle to find a response. I mean, of course, you want to go out with him, but it’s been forever since you’ve done anything like this! I mean between going to medical school and shadowing doctors, to having your own practice for a while, to getting a job at the hospital, to working your way up to Department Head, you’ve just lost time for love over the years. What if I’m not good at sex anymore?

“Are you barefoot?” Bucky inquires after taking in your tired appearance.

You huff out a chuckle and cover your face with your one free hand. The hottest guy you’ve ever encountered wants to go out with you and you’re standing here, barefoot, and not even giving him an answer, you’re blowing this!

Bucky grabs your hand from your face and places a gentle kiss on the top of it.

“Here’s what going to happen. I’m going to drive you home like a gentleman, leave you with my number, and whenever you’re hungry, you give me a call. And I’ll be there.” Bucky reassures you.

I’m about to melt, you think. You give an affirmative nod, not being able to form proper thoughts after hearing his gentle voice soothe your nerves about his entire existence, his soft fingers rubbing small circles in your knuckles where he placed a kiss; you don’t even believe to have been so lucky to snag such a nice guy.

The both of you walk back to the car Bucky brought you in, hand in hand. Bucky lets go only to open the door for you and offer his other hand to you as you climb inside. Before he shuts the door, you hold out a hand.

“So, you’re not taking me to show me some interrogation techniques?”

Bucky can’t help but let out a scoff as he playfully pushes you the rest of the way into the car and shuts the door.

…

You wake up about sixteen hours later. Seven the next morning, to be exact. You look around your sun-lit room through your swollen and crusted eyes and realize you’re still wearing the same slacks and shirt you’ve been wearing for three days now. You let out a long sigh before pulling yourself up, muscles stretching and bones cracking the more you move your limbs.

After taking a long, hot, and well-deserved shower, you tip toe your bare feet to your kitchen.

Hmmm… cereal and a container of mushrooms. Bucky did say to give him a call if I was hungry…

“Hello?”

“Hi, I’m trying to get in contact with Aldo the Apache, please?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand that reference, sweetheart.”

The giggle that comes through the phone makes you smile so big, your cheeks hurt.

“Well, soldier, you told me to give you a call if I was hungry, and my stomach’s a-growling pretty loudly this morning.”

“Be ready in twenty minutes, sugar. I’ll take you for some food and drop you off at work after.”

“Wow, hopefully I’ll have some time to thank you for your generosity in the car.”

There’s silence over the phone and you can almost hear his blush as you catch the tiny hitch in his breathing.

“Ha, ha. I’ll see you soon, gorgeous.”

Your thoughts freeze over at the sound of that last pet name, and you hear the line click to an end. Good Lord, pull yourself together!

As you dress yourself for breakfast and work, your normal black slacks, plain shirt - light blue today, inspiration from a certain someone’s eyes, and heels. The more time that passes while you get ready, the more butterflies flutter around your stomach. It’s as though they’re restless; and every time you looked at the clock, the time only seemed to move slower. You try not to overthink things when the time shows that twenty-one minutes have passed, but those thoughts are quickly silenced at the sound of a gentle knock on your front door.

You gather your bags and head over to the front of your apartment, opening the door for Bucky, only to realize you two are accidentally matching. Light blue t-shirt that’s tight in all the right places, his nipples poking through in just the slightest. A black leather jacket dons his broad shoulders, the discolored creases show that he’s had it for a while. Tight black skinny jeans, you’re afraid the seams will burst around the thickness of his muscled thighs.

“Well, one of us is going to have to change.”

“Too bad I left my heels at home.” You let out a soft chuckle at his tease and push past him to close the door behind you.

“Not even gonna invite me inside, doll?” Bucky teases at you, leaning against the door frame as you lock the door.

“Sorry, the prostitute from last night was still asleep, figured I’d give them some privacy.” You wink at him before leading down the hallway.

Bucky takes you to a bakery cafe, not too far from the hospital. It’s still driving distance, but you wouldn’t mind taking an extra thirty minutes to walk if it meant spending more time with Bucky. He urges you to sit while he orders and you plop down in a small table in the back corner of the cafe. Soon, Bucky returns with two coffees, one smelling of vanilla and the other smelling of cinnamon. He takes a seat and pushes the sweeter smelling one towards you. The cup feels warm around your hands, heat spreading through your hands and arms and soaking your body to the core.

“And what makes you think I take my coffee so sweet?” You ask, teasing him but also craving the sweet, vanilla coffee on your tongue.

“You’re not fooling anyone. Well, maybe you’re fooling some people, but I see right through you; you’re sweeter than sugar and I can only imagine you drink coffee the same way.” Bucky flirts.

“Lucky guess.” You bring the coffee to your lips and, perhaps, the warmth is what makes the blush on your cheeks darker. Perhaps, it’s the way Bucky’s giving you heart eyes across the table. Probably the coffee.

“And cinnamon for you? Would’ve thought you take your coffee black, maybe a hint of whiskey or gasoline in the mix.”

“Very funny. Sugar was a luxury back in my day, and then I was fed out of an IV for seventy years after, so. I’ll have all the sugar and flavor I can get, thank you very much.” You both giggle and it warms your heart to see such an intimidating man, a soldier, have such an uncontrollable sweet tooth.

Bucky appreciates that the atmosphere remained open and carefree. He didn’t mean to be so casual about his past, and normally, throwing out how he was kept from solid foods for seven decades in casual conversation makes him and everyone involved just a bit uncomfortable. But you laughed. And that allowed him to laugh with you.

You and Bucky share your coffees, along with a multitude of donuts and muffins that he insisted on buying, and soon you’re sitting in the car having the saddest car ride of your life. Why are you so sensitive all of a sudden? You feel like a kid whose just left the toy store and now has to return home toy-less. All you want to do is be with Bucky. You want to talk to him, hold his hand, hug him, kiss him, and share all the sweets in the world with him. You’ll never admit it to him, but he makes your heart explode with fireworks, sparks flying from corner to corner.

Bucky pulls into a parking space close to the main doors of the hospital and puts the car in park.

“I, uh, hope you have a good day at work today.” He wishes quietly; you can sense that he doesn’t want you to leave, either.

“Hopefully it’s not too good, all those sick people have so many germs.” You retch.

Bucky smiles and looks up at you to find you staring at him already. You break the eye contact after a few seconds and reach down between your feet to grab you bags, undoing your seatbelt afterwards. You glance at him again to see how you’ll find it in yourself to say goodbye and you notice him looking between your eyes and your lips. Neither of you can resist as you lean into one another and your lips meet.

It’s probably the best kiss ever. For both of you. Both of your lips are soft and somewhat sticky from all of the sugar consumed, tasting of vanilla and cinnamon sweetness that has you both swooning. Bucky wants to kiss you silly everywhere. Your lips, your cheeks, your neck, your chest, your legs, wow, he could kiss you forever. He places both hands on either side of your head to bring you impossibly closer to him and you smaller hands wrap around his forearms to keep him from moving. Bucky’s tongue slowly licks at your lips to coax them open and he slips his tongue between the gap you give him. Soft and wet and slick; your tongues wrestle each other and taste every corner of the other’s mouths. You let out a soft moan and Bucky uses that a cue to pull away, but not before sucking and pulling at your bottom lip, releasing it when he meets your eyes. You bite at your own lips trying to savor the taste of him and you don’t know how you’re going to focus for the rest of the day.

“Text me when you get out later.” Bucky whispers, his breaths brushing against your lips.

“Will do.” You whisper back. You’d probably feed him a sarcastic comment of some sort but you can’t it in you to even think of anything right now.

You regrettably gather your things and exit the vehicle, not without stealing one more kiss from Bucky, though. As you walk towards the main entrance doors, a loud honk makes you jump and you whip your head around to see Bucky chuckling to himself in his car, proud to have made you flinch the way you did. You hold in your own laughs as you exaggeratedly roll your eyes and continue towards the door.

This is going to be a long day.

TAG LIST: @jaamesbbarnes @sgtjbuccky @angel-fire @gagmebucky @hannie-writes-marvel @thewritingdoll @unicorniorosacomefrutillas @creppylittlemarvelgirl @spiderrpcrker @mywinterwolf @free-as-fishes @auskitty @som3thingcr3ative

[madamrogersstorytelling]

You Can’t Hurry Love

Billy Russo/Reader

Winter Celebration #2

Happy New Year, lovelies! Last year we started with a new character, but this year will be started with continuing the celebration! I hope this year will be good for you all and you enjoy it! 

This was requested by the sweet @billrussos for our Billy boy. I wanted to listen to your wishes and made him sweet, how you like him! I hope you like this! 

This is the longest I’ve written in a while and it feels nice. I hope it shows and that you all like this little, fluffy piece with our favorite Russo boy. 

Words: 2723

8. ”There’s a mistletoe. Should we… You know?”

9. “It’s very slippery. Can I hold your hand?”

13. “Kiss me”

42. “They used to say it’s the time for love… I love you”

44. “Maybe we should share the bed?”

“It’s very slippery. Can I hold your hand?” Billy asked as you two stepped out of the pub you had been spending the night at with your friends. He still had the end of a smile on his lips, this smile you hadn’t missed a second of when you were inside. The moments you were with him were filled with so much joy and laughter you could hardly believe the stories you heard about Billy Russo. Your friend certainly wasn’t the same man as the one in those stories. He was caring; he always made sure you were feeling well and not a single time, not even one time had he left you alone when you had been feeling down. He almost insisted that he had to get to be with you. What did he do, then? He didn’t have to do anything. He usually didn’t. He just came to sit on your sofa or bed with you and in mere minutes you were feeling better. Perhaps shed a few tears and apologized for getting his shirt wet, but he always waved it off. He never let you out of his sight. In the purest ways possible.

You remembered the time you had met him for the first time. Your best friend Karen was together with his friend Frank, and you agreed to go out with them. You knew they had called some other friends to join; Curtis Hoyle, Frank’s friend and the sweetest man on Earth. He had become your friend in seconds. Then there was this man called Billy Russo. He had been flirting with you the whole night, and you had been able to resist him. You had to admit, he was smooth and charming (and handsome, he was really handsome – and seemed like he knew it himself), but you weren’t looking for a new relationship just a little after your previous one had ended (which was why Karen had invited you to spend fun time out) and certainly not a fling. During that night, Billy became your friend. He learned you weren’t going to give in and let him drive you home, but he indeed drove you home that night, stayed to see and make sure you made it inside safely. He liked to remind you that you were the first woman in a long time who resisted him. He had tried almost everything and all he had gotten was a grin and you had joined in, but there still hadn’t been more signals. You were messing with him; and he had liked it more than getting bedroom eyes. You were different in many ways, you heard that often from him. He was too. Very flirty, sure, but he was a true friend. Always there. Even after all this time since then.

“Thank you, Billy, really – you know I’d be down there on my ass in no time. And alcohol wouldn’t have anything to do with that,” you said and took a hold of his right hand he offered you. Taking a hold of yours firmly, safely, he gave you a warm chuckle.

“May I remind you; you didn’t drink alcohol.”

“I know, but you know how clumsy I am.”

“That I know. You know how much I adore it.”

“You only.”

Billy laughed. It got free from the depths of his being and was so living, so boyish you couldn’t help but join in. He looked at you when he heard your laugh that turned into giggles only seconds after.

“That’s a lie, you know,” he said, still looking at you. Sweetly as ever, the hand still holding yours firmly as you walked with him. The street around you was still full of life, it wasn’t that late yet. But holding his hand in the middle of people had never been weird. It was something that felt so natural that it was almost meant to happen. Same with sleeping in his arms, against him, sharing the bed with him. There were many things that felt so natural with Billy. “I cannot be the only one.”

“Oh, believe me, you are,” you took a few steps closer to him when you came closer to a bigger group of people and there wasn’t much space for getting past them.

“It’s not possible. I refuse to believe,” he said as he guided you past the group of what seemed like a company’s pre-Christmas party. They were all gathered in front of one door with Christmas hats on.

“This isn’t the first time we have spoken about this matter,” you said, giving him a fond laugh, “and you never believe me when I say that.”

Once you had passed the group that started to get loud, Billy turned to look at you. He let out a chuckle and his whole upper body moved a little. “Because it’s adorable to me, and people who think it’s embarrassing can come to discuss about that with me. I’m gonna find out what their problem actually is.”

You laughed at him sweetly and leaned your head against his shoulder for a bit. “Aww, my hero.”

“Always here to save you.”

You looked up at him and felt your heart skip a few beats. When he looked at you like that…

Were you just imagining it?

Could it be…?

When he looked at you, he felt the same. Yet, he wasn’t sure what it was. Still, he knew better than ever. Had known for weeks, perhaps there were enough of them to turn them into months. Several months.

What he didn’t know was that he was even capable of feeling it.

That look lasted for several windows passing, several doors and people. You hardly even noticed it was slippery. You slow moved your head from Billy’s shoulder when you two stopped to wait for the stoplights to turn green. Billy threw a glance in front of him but was quickly back at looking at you.

“What was it that made you laugh so much? What did Frank say?” you asked him when he looked ahead of him again just seconds before he started to lead you across the street.

Billy let out a chuckle. “He thinks I’ve changed. And he has his own wild guesses of why that has happened.”

You walked with him, looking up at him. “Why?”

Billy looked down at you, and you didn’t need words to know.

Oh…

“Why does he think like that?”

Your voice jumped a little when you said the first word. Why was really wh-why.

You got to the other side of the street and continued walking hand in hand, your shoulder bumping to his when you walked.

“I asked the same thing and his answer was, quoting: ‘I have eyes, Bill,’” he was imitating Frank, and you weren’t sure was it spectacular or just horrible. “He thinks I – ,“ he couldn’t finish the sentence, you slipped, and he hurried to bring his left hand against you, pulling you to him to stop you from falling. “Christ, Y/N, are you okay?”

He was more in front of you now than next to you, slipping himself on the slippery part of the street. Many other people took false steps too when they reached the part, and you two had stopped to stand right there.

Billy’s left hand was on your upper arm, almost around it as his right one still held your hand. He was quick like a cat and he had been able to save you just in time by coming in front of you. You had made a comfortable stop against his chest.

You looked up at him from his chest and had to admit; when he looked at you so worried as he was, it made your heart jump. Again. You looked a little shy, even though you knew there was no reason to be shy about this. “I am. Thank you, Billy.”

He started to rub your upper arm with his hand. “Good, very good… I thought I was going to spit my heart out,” he looked very relieved to see you were okay. “We should move before something happens. Come.”

Billy’s hand made its way to your back as he guided you away from the slippery part of the street, his own shoes slipping a little. You could hear how he cursed.

Once you had found a safer place to stand, just between two buildings, by the wall of the other, he made a stop. You stopped with him, looking at your feet and then up at what you were surrounded by. The shops were still open, the lights shone from the windows to the street. Billy saw what you were looking at, how you were smiling at it so happily.

He turned his gaze back to you, and yours found back to his eyes.

There was a smile on your lips.

He knew that smile.

He started to grin, and it took only a couple of seconds until you were giggling.

“What?” he asked in a sweet voice.

“You didn’t see it?”

“See what? I didn’t see anything.”

“Anything?”

“Of course, I see things, I see you now too.”

“Silly Billy,” you giggled. He tittered at the nickname. Your gaze went somewhere above his head and you pointed at it with your own head. “There’s a mistletoe.”

Billy frowned and turned to see it over his shoulder, and once he did that, you continued speaking, now peeking past him to see the mistletoe over the door of the nearest flower shop. “Should we… You know?”

Billy turned back to you with a growing grin on his lips. Something flashed in his dark eyes.

You had a playful grin on your own lips and raised a brow at him.

Everything felt so natural with you. You had messed around with him before, but you two had your unwritten rules and one of them was no sex. There was no rule about kissing, and still you two had never kissed. You had played that game, lips barely touching but had never went to the end.

This was like one of those times you had messed with each other. He grinned, you showed him your own playful one –

except this time there was something different in his grin, in the way he stepped closer to you, so close you could feel his chest against yours, how he was breathing. He was a bit taller than you, and you had to tilt your head a little to be able to look at him as he stood so close.

“Kiss me,” he almost whispered, so silently only you could hear it. And even you weren’t sure had you heard him right.

People walked past you and no one paid attention to you. Their steps cracked and slid on the slippery street; your eyes were focused on Billy’s. He looked back into your eyes and was suddenly closer than ever before, even though he had been close to you. He had been closer than a person can get without making it sexual. Mentally, physically. He had held you in his arms, kissed your head, walked hand in hand with you… You weren’t sure were there many things he hadn’t done. Or you hadn’t done; you had held him in your arms, kissed his cheeks, held his hands, gotten piggyback rides from him, several actually, had fun like kids. There were many things you had done, both of you.

His left hand found the back of your head when you moved it. His own head was coming closer to yours and in one small moment that was hardly a breath, his lips were on yours. Your free hand found the front of his black coat.

You had known for weeks you felt something for him. Something that was very deep and profound. But you had always loved him, he was your best friend – could it be that you were…?

The kiss was gentle and soft, long and it felt right. Surprisingly right, taking the situation. Billy’s eyes were closed, and he opened them when you opened yours after the kiss ended. He smiled at you, and your smile was shyer than it was supposed to be.

“I know,” he said, the hand coming to your cheek from the back of your head. The right hand squeezed yours. “This probably isn’t how you imagined tonight would go on.”

“I still don’t think it’s wrong, though,” you said, more sure than ever.

It wasn’t wrong. It was right, so right.

“I’m glad because…” Billy blinked his eyes in the wind as he looked at you. There was a silence between you two.

But with Billy, silences were never bad. Never awkward, pressing – they were always comfortable and full of unsaid words.

Feelings.

“Because?” you encouraged him to talk in a gentle voice. You knew how he took talking about feelings.

It was very cute how you got to see this side of him, so few people saw it.

He chuckled warmly. There was a silence, just a few heartbeats, after that chuckle. Billy took a breath.

“Holiday times… They used to say it’s the time for love…” he started. Voice deep and low, he talked to you and to no one else. He looked right into your eyes from the hand that still was against his chest, against his black coat. “I love you.”

It wasn’t what you expected to hear; nothing that had happened after you left with Billy was what you had expected. But the way your heart started to flutter, you knew it was the answer to all your questions, all of them inside you. Every single one of them. All the why’s, where’s, how’s…

The answer was him.

“I… I love you too, Billy,” you said his name; your words were only to him, not to anyone else. Only him. The words you meant more than any other in a long while.

You were filled by this unfamiliar warmth as you looked at Billy who looked like he was still processing your words. He got out one question, ever so smoothly, but you were able to find this same side of him he didn’t show to all.

“You do?”

“I do,” you answered, hand coming from his chest up to his stubbly cheek. He pressed his face against it, then turned it a little to kiss your hand. It was cold under his lips.

“I cannot even express how happy you make me, darling,” there it was, the nickname he had for you. Now it felt new. Good new. “Let’s go, your hands are cold.”

“I’m not feeling cold.”

Even if you were, you could’ve stayed there with Billy forever.

“Still, let’s go. There’s not a long way to go to your place.”

“You’ll come to my place?” you asked softly.

Billy smiled. “Of course, I will if you just let me in. Should we share the bed?”

“I’d never say no to you. You know my home is your home too. Hmm… that depends on which way you’re actually talking about. We have shared the bed many times, Bill.”

He was grinning now, his own teasing self. “There are many ways. Would you like to find out?”

You grinned up at him. “Guess.”

“Guess, huh?” he tilted his head. Something flashed in his eyes again, something you had seen before too, but it was much more profound now. “My guess is you would.”

“You guessed right. Let’s go,” you caressed his cheek for a bit until let go of it to walk him with you past the flower shop, past all the shops there were. His hand was still in yours, the way he held it felt different now too.

This time your free hand took a hold of his arm and you rested your head on his shoulder again. He looked down at you, pressed a kiss against your head and smiled as he walked with you.

The night sky was beautiful, full of stars as you looked at it, but Billy’s dark eyes were even more beautiful. You had never been good at looking away from them but now – now it felt like you had lost the ability for good.

Because those dark eyes were your home. The man was your home.

And you were his.

*****

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[kpopvault]

Chan of A.C.E & UNB, your beagle boyfriend

This is something I wrote for my best friend, after seeing a pic of A.C.E‘s Chan and wanting to cheer her up with her bias. ^-^

The following pic is the one she sent me and the quote and story was my response.

____________________________________________________

"Imagine coming home to this beagle after a long strenuous work day. 🙃"

A.C.E & UNB Chan aka Kang Yuchan x Reader

Chan would've finished his training already and wonder where you're at. He is usually the one coming home late, so he's not used to coming to an empty apartment. He tries to distract himself by cleaning up and making dinner for you two, but it gets very late and he has to wrap up the meals since they got cold.

Although he's quite hungry, he wants to wait for you to come back home, so you two could eat together. That's something he finds important in your relationship, eating at least one meal together each day, since he finds communication and spending time together at meals to be essential for couples. He loves to hear about your day and likes to whine sometimes about his hard training and work to you because he knows you wouldn't make fun of him like his Hyungs or other friends do.

He'd be wondering what's taking you so long and try to call you, but gets rejected which makes him upset and all pouty. He'll rage-text you all petty about the rejected call but receives your text in that moment, saying you'll be home late since the business dinner turns out to be taking longer than expected. He sulks silently, while cleaning up the dishes and packing them away for his Hyungs tomorrow since you must've already eaten by the time you‘re back home. He still doesn't want to eat and kinda lost his appetite, so he just tries to occupy himself by watching TV.

He gets a little drowsy and nods off at times since the programmes and shows aren't interesting at that time. He ponders to go get changed into his pyjamas but he already changed into something comfy, so he stays in his hoodie and sweatpants and makes himself comfortable on the sofa. He really tries hard not to doze off since he wants to welcome you home and because he's worried about you but as you said it's an important business dinner, he doesn't want to disturb you and patiently waits for you to come home.

***

As you enter your apartment, you see him lying on the sofa, in deep slumber with the TV running. You turn off the TV and put a blanket over him, so he won't get cold. It would be pretty bad for him catching a cold since he's in preparation for his next comeback now. You hear his steady breathing and as you drape the blanket around him, he lets out a soft sigh, while he crunches his nose and continues to wander off into dreamland.

Your heart melts at this sight and you want to stroke his soft, fluffy hair but refrain from doing so in worry you might wake him up. "He looks too comfortable now to be woken up and he should get the rest he deserves," you think as you go over to the kitchen counter and look for something small to eat, since you hardly have eaten at all at the business dinner. Yes, it was a dinner party but you hardly could take a bite, since everyone was talking to you or asking you questions about the upcoming project nonstop. You let out a deep sigh at the thought of this project and proceed to find some food.

You smile when you find the dishes he had prepared for you two. Now you felt a little guilty since he must've waited for you to eat dinner together as always, as you put your dish into the oven. Yes, it would be far easier to use the microwave but it would be too loud and you don't want to wake him up. At times like these you wish the kitchen was separated from the living room by a wall, so he wouldn't hear anything but this is the modern style you both chose and especially Chan fancied the open kitchen style. "Well, he could've just gone to bed, then there wouldn't have been any problem with warming up meals late at night. But that‘s just how this puppy is, haha," as you shrug your shoulders and chuckle at the thought.

You go over to the sofa while the oven throws its light onto his face, as you quickly lean towards him, so he won't wake up from the rays of light. He's sometimes very sensitive like that and responds to the faintest sound or light, but this time it seems he's in real deep sleep. "He must've had a hard and intense workout day, poor bub," you put your head on the armrest to watch him sleep and cautiously arrange his hair strands. He must've felt that because he shakes his head slightly and let's out a soft sigh again. You smile at this adorable sight but suddenly flinch, as you hear a clear "Ping!" sound cutting through the peaceful silence.

"Oh, no!", you silently scream because you totally forgot that the oven also has a timer! You sit straight up like a meerkat and observe him nervously, but the slow steady up and down of his body shows that he is still sleeping. You sigh in relief and quickly tiptoe to the oven to get your food out. It's very hot as you see the steam coming up from your dish. You place it onto the counter to let it cool a little, leaving the oven light on as a dim light source, still blocking its way to your sleeping boyfriend on the sofa. You sneak up to him again to make sure he's still asleep, waving over his face and earning no response.

You get back up to finally have your dinner but stop dead in your tracks as you hear a chuckle behind you. You turn around to see him grinning at you, head resting in his hand, saying, "Welcome home, sweet pea! What took you so long? I was worried about you!" giving you his best pout. Before you could say anything, he jumps out of the sofa and leaps right at you, giving you a big bear hug while swaying with you around. "I missed you so much! How could you leave me alone for this long?" still pouting at you but breaking into a giggle when he sees your perplex face. He kisses you directly on your slightly open mouth and chuckles softly, while nibbling gently at your lips.

"Sorry, I'm pretty hungry and you looked delicious!" he confesses with a grin. You're flustered and blush immediately, while he goes over to the plate you've prepared for yourself. "Ah, right! I made us dinner but I thought you wouldn't want to eat anymore, since you were already having your business dinner when you texted me. Guess I forgot you were a glutton like me, haha!" he laughs while he's trying to take cover, after you pummel him playfully with a loud "Hey!"

"Haha, relax! I dissed myself as well, you know?" he swiftly takes you in an embrace and holds you very tightly. "I just missed you very much, my sweet pea! You know I don't want to be without you for too long!" he pouts yet again, looking at you with his big puppy eyes while you just start giggling, "Such a beagle you are, haha!"

"And a hungry one that is! I cooked and waited for you, so come on! Let's have some late dinner, shall we?" he exclaimed, putting his dish into the microwave to warm up and after a few minutes you were ready for dinner. You could see how hungry he was all the time, as his eyes were all sparkly and his mouth watered. You gave a soft laugh, smiling to yourself at how his energy and smile washed away all the stress and fatigue you felt from work, as he diverted his gaze from his meal towards you with a puzzled look on his face. It was so adorable that you had to laugh even more, "Don't worry, it's nothing. You just look like an excited little puppy. You're so cute!"

"Hey, I'm not the only cutie here!" pointing at you with his chopstick with a wink and nibbling at it, "Come on, let's dig in! I'm hungry!" He finishes his plate as fast as always and watches you eating, after he cleans up his place on the kitchen counter. "Of course, he must've been very hungry, waiting all evening for me, poor bub!“ you thought guiltily. "Do you want some of mine, hun?" you ask him since he still looked like it.  

"No, not really. Well, actually yes, but I'm gonna have my dessert in a moment," he chuckles softly while you have the last bite, looking up to him puzzled. "Hm? What do you mean? Did you make some dessert as well for dinner? Wow, Kang Yuchan! I'm impressed! What is it? I hope something sweet, I'm craving something sweet right now!" you exclaim while you see his wide grin. "Huh? What is it? We've got dessert, right?" you ask him with anticipation, while he slowly comes up to you with his wide grin. He puts his arms around you, eyeing you up and down, while wearing a smirk now.

He leans in for a whisper, "Yes, we've got dessert," as he begins to nibble gently at your earlobe. He halts and meets your gaze, all you can see are two deep black holes as eyes, which gives you goosebumps all over. Your heartbeat quickens, as he draws you closer to him and slowly whispers into your ear with a smirk, "Guess what kind of dessert, sweet pea."

He begins to nibble gently at your earlobe, going over to your lips, sending chills down your spine that end at the bottom of your stomach. He starts with tender kisses and soft strokes, becoming more passionate and brisk. He halts once again to take a good look at you, as you get more biding the longer he stares at you. You can see the desire in his eyes which makes your heart skip a beat for a second, you‘re getting all red and flustered, "W-wait! So, the dessert you‘ve been talking about? You‘re not saying-?"

He smirks again, leaning into your face so close, you can feel his breath on your lips. His eyes fixed on your quivering lips, he calmly exhales with a grin, "You guessed right. The dessert for tonight is you!"

-written 2019-07-25 by Eru

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I hope you enjoyed the read. I‘ve just learnt that there‘s a difference in the use of punctuation for direct speech in British English and American English.

I‘m quite overwhelmed right now because I always wanted to write as grammatically correct as possible for a comfortable reading flow since English isn‘t my first language, but the rules are quite confusing and I kinda mix everything up, haha. ^-^;