#I was gone work on them yesterday but I was opening my dolls

[pnuk-r0ck]

It’s almost like 3 am and I just got the urge to do school work (I’m not doing it tf)

[ghouldump]

To Be Loved | Armand x Reader

ෆ idolized and worshipped by your coven members, alive but not living, things quickly change for you when you move to Paris, and meet your soulmate.

requested via private messages, this was so cute, no manipulative gremlin armand.

What is Love? A feeling of deep admiration or likeness? Patience, kindness, unconditional forgiveness? It was hard to tell. The emotion had become so distant from you, a faint memory from half of a millennial ago. Love required trust, and you couldn't bring yourself to trust another.

“My lord, the sun has departed for the night,” Demetrius said, making you look up from your lap. Everyone kneeled before you, their heads down.

“You may go and hunt,” you dismissed them, closing your eyes. You could feel their stares lingering, hesitating, as they stood up, leaving you alone in the dungeon.

“How long will you starve yourself? At least feed on the rodents, you look like death,” hearing her voice, feeling her closeness, but refusing to face her, to acknowledge the concerned expression.

“Good, then I’m one step closer to dying for good,” you sighed.

“Y/n, don't be stupid, go drink, it is an order from your maker,” she ordered, making you open your eyes.

“Leave me,” you screamed, facing her, but she was gone.

Cassia, the reason you were here today, the last person you trusted. You were from a wealthy family, and your father, and his father, both swordsmiths, valued, oftentimes working alongside kings and their soldiers.

While he was never home, your mother was too immersed in raising your younger siblings to focus on you, nevertheless, you were loved. On birthdays and traditional holidays, you'd receive amazing gifts of all kinds, praised and advised on everything, you couldn't have asked for a better life. It wasn't until the mysterious young woman, Cassia moved close by, that your life changed.

You had been out later than usual, on your way home from a friend’s house, when you saw her. She stood outside of her house, reaching for the apples on the tree.

“Hey, could you lend me a hand, I can't reach these,” she called out, stopping you, just as you passed her short fence.

“I really need to get home,” you said, apologetically.

“It will only take a moment, please, come,” she said, watching as you awkwardly entered the gate. You didn't understand how she thought you could help when there wasn't a big difference in your height.

Jumping a few times, you managed to knock the apples out of the tree. Picking them up, you placed them in her basket, turning to leave, but she stopped you.

“Bring them in,” she told you, already walking into the house. Glancing down the road at your house, you picked up the basket, and you entered the home. It was much brighter than outside with all of the candles, neatly arranged.

“You can sit them on the table,” she said, turning to face you. Your eyes widened for a moment, she was one the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. Her skin was perfect, smooth with a few small moles, full lips, doll eyes, and glossy soft hair.

“Thank you,” she told you.

“You're welcome,” you said, turning to leave.

“How old are you? I heard your family a few weeks back, celebrating a birthday,” she said.

“Eighteen”

“And you aren't betrothed?” she asked, as she moved closer.

“No, my father will begin looking for arrangements later this year,” you explained.

“Good, whoever has you, will be lucky, you have a heart of gold,” she said, her hand going to your cheek. She was moving closer, making you uncomfortable, an eerie grin on her lips.

“Go, it is getting late, but come back tomorrow night,” she continued.

There was something intriguingly bizarre about the woman because despite how weird she seemed, the next night you found yourself, fidgeting with your fingers, in front of her door, contemplating if you wanted to knock. Just as you raised your hand, the door opened.

“Come in,” she smiled, moving out of the way.

“I don't believe I got your name, yesterday night,” she continued.

“Y/n,” you held out your hand.

“Cassia,” she raised an eyebrow, taking your hand into her own.

Awkwardly staring at your hands, while she gazed at you, she continued caressing her thumb against your skin. Clearing your throat, you took your hand away.

“What did you need?”

“I have a gift, for your generosity,” she said.

“No need, it was nothing-

“I insist, please, sit,” she pointed to the table. Gulping, you went to sit down, something peculiar about her tone sent a chill down your spine.

“I hope you like apples, I made pastries, it has been a long time since I’ve made anything like these, but I know they are delicious,” she smiled, setting the tray in front of you. The slice of fresh apple pie, along with cookies.

“Thank you, this really was unnecessary,” you shook your head, breaking a piece of the cookie.

“You were the first and only to help me, it is obvious that you have been chosen,” she told you, watching as you ate the cookie.

“Do you like it?” she asked, smirking as you nodded. Chewing, you began to cough a little, repeatedly clearing your throat, and staring into the cookie. Standing up, you made your way to the door, stumbling, Cassia slowly behind you, catching you, as you fell unconscious.

Waking up, you struggled to move, opening your eyes, confused to see Cassia, straddling your lap, placing a variety of ointments and oils onto your body.

“W-what is going on?”

“I am preparing your body for your death,” she told you before she started humming.

“My what? Release me,” you wiggled, stopping as her hand went to your throat.

“You have been chosen, do not ruin this,” she snapped.

“Cassia, please, what are you talking about?”

“Those who must be kept were cursed, damned to eternity on earth, and to live off of blood, but the creator showed them mercy, bestowing soulmates. A companionship stronger than any other, the perfect partner, meant only for those with the dark gift. My soulmate, Elias, was weak, he chose the sun, he chose death over me. I’ve prayed and prayed, and I asked for another soulmate, and you have come along, helping me and I have to turn you to ensure we have each other forever,” she said, your eyes widened in fear, shaking your head.

“You're mistaken-

“I haven't been more certain,” she told you, her fingers brushing over your lips before she bared her fangs.

“To us, and an eternity of our love,” she said, sinking her fangs into your neck draining the life from out of you.

Turning you, within a single night, you had lost everything. Your family, friends, life, everyone sensed how different you became. How you suddenly left home and would only be seen with the strange woman. The same exterior, but a different entity possessing the body they once knew. The new social discrimination you experienced didn't help, being shunned for your not-so-obvious relationship with Cassia.

She was a lonely soul and out of your kindness, she convinced herself you were her second chance at love. She would later explain how it felt when you would come across your soulmate. How you would love them no matter who they were, their shade, or where they were from. She didn't realize it until turning you, but she had been wrong, there was no second chance. She would've let you go, to find your way with the dark gift, but she couldn't.

After the side effects wore off, the way you looked at her, your maker, brought butterflies. She knew it was only the gift, bringing on the newfound lust, but she gave in anyway. It was nothing more than sex for you but after centuries of celibacy, it felt like lovemaking to Cassia. On the living room floor, until morning came, then reality came down on you. Pulling away, a hint of disgust in your eyes, she knew then. Running outside, you only made it past her fence, before you fell to your knees, screaming in agony.

“Cassia,” you cried out, confused why this was happening.

Wearing a cloak, she grabbed a blanket and rushed out to save you, carrying you back into the house. From that point, even if you weren't hers, she loved you and felt a need to take care of you. After a few decades together, you eventually accepted her, but she knew it was only a matter of time before you came across your soulmate. That is why, a century into your companionship, she finally surrendered to the sun, leaving everything to you.

The last person to love you had left you alone. Her wealth and dark gifts, she passed, but you were utterly alone. You became a vagabond, you had no one to keep you settled in one place. You attempted to surrender a few times, but Cassia’s spirit wouldn't seem to leave you alone, talking you out of it every time. You formed a bitterness towards her, she claimed to love you, yet she brought you into this lonesome life, just to leave you.

Eventually, you found yourself in Rome, Cassia’s homeland. She and her soulmate were both turned and met here. You acted as if you hated her, but found yourself in the very place she was born. Buying a large home in the countryside, you were satisfied with the large dungeon in the home.

Not long went by, before your encounter with the local vampires. They came to you on a night you stood near a cliff, trying to pray. You had been trying for so long, you didnt have an end solution. For God to make your life less lonely, to bring your soulmate, to help you finally end your life, you were sure he wasn't listening, but it helped pass the time.

As they surrounded you, you didn't bother facing them, maybe they could kill you, but then Cassia came, telling you to show them your power. You had inherited all of the gifts and were much older than them. Begrudgingly, you turned to them, flying above them, watching as they quickly submitted to you. Then, one of them pointed out that you were praying, perhaps you were their saint, a mediator for the damned to god himself.

You denied their claims, but they didn't listen, asking to reside with you, which was the beginning of your coven. Eight young vampires, you grew closest to Demetrius, Jonah, and Marianne. Three centuries came and went and they all remained devout. Even though, for the last few years, you would be off and on starving yourself for weeks at a time.

“My lord?”

“Yes, Demetrius?” you answered, slowly turning to look at him. On his knees, his head bowed, he held a box.

“For you, you shouldn't starve yourself like this,” he said, as you took the box, surprised to see the trapped rats inside.

“Thank you,” you said, grabbing one of the rodents, and biting into it.

“The others are too afraid to mention this, and asked me to bring it up with you,” he said, nervously.

“Well, out with it,” you told him.

“We want to leave Rome, a few locals have gotten suspicious, and the talk has made its way to the city. We could easily kill them, but it would cause too much attention, so we think it is best to leave,” he said.

“Stand up,” you told him. You found it so bothersome having all of them bowing and crawling at your feet.

“The others are aware that they are able to leave this coven, I will not stop any of you,” you told him, as he stood in front of you.

“Yes, but we want you to come, Marianne thinks we will be safe in Paris, but we want you to join us,” he said.

“Go with them, Rome no longer serves you any purpose, you only await death here,” Cassia told you, as you stared at Demetrius.

“How soon did everyone expect to leave?”

“As soon as possible”

“Then we will leave for Paris, and you all can come out from hiding,” you said, watching as your coven members slowly revealed themselves.

“Thank heavens, there is one more thing, Demetrius hasn't told you, my lord,” Jonah said, making you face him.

“And what is that?”

“We have hopes of blending in with society”

“Very well-

“I think they mean everyone”

“I mean everyone, and with the utmost respect, you will also have to adjust, or you will look out of place, Marianne can take care of your wardrobe,” he said nervously, glancing at her.

“Tell them yes,” Cassia said excitedly.

“If these are the plans, you all will need to prepare, as soon as possible,” you said, watching as everyone’s faces lit up, dropping to their knees, they worshipped you.

“This is good, you need the change, you can finally take steps towards living your life,” Cassia told you, as you lowered your head.

Hopefully. How long would your life continue like this? The vain worship, as if you were their god. You couldn't remember the last time someone looked into your eyes and saw you as an equal. Maybe Paris could change the agonizing lifestyle you felt trapped in.

“I hope I haven't overdone myself, my lord,” Marianne said, her head down, following you into the large castle-style home.

“It is perfect, I can't remember the last time I saw coffins this nice,” Cassia clapped, walking next to you.

“You have done well, everything is pleasant,” you told her, patting her head as she thanked you profusely.

“Amazing, we have our own coffins?” Alexander, one of the younger, newer members of the coven exclaimed. He was also Marianne’s soulmate.

“Yes, I apologize for my negligence as a coven leader over the years, in the dungeon, I felt no need for coffins, being that it was dark, but coffins are much more comfortable than the cold floor,” you told him, you didn't realize until after speaking, everyone stared at you with such admiration in their eyes.

“We chose you as our leader, and we accept any conditions, as long we can stay with you, although we are very thankful for the upgrade,” Jonah told you, everyone agreeing.

“Enough of the praise, there are still a few hours left in the night, go hunt, and travel together, until you are familiar with your surroundings,” you waved them off.

“You're not coming?”

“Perhaps another time, go on,” you told them, turning away, and going to your room.

It had only been a few hours since arriving in Paris, at the large house. Demetrius took care of finding the place, while Marianne furnished it, before your arrival. You couldn't lie, you felt uncomfortable, your usually unruly appearance had been completely changed, replaced by fitted trousers and a soft turtleneck.

You refused to be walking around in the strange dresses of the age and preferred androgynous pieces of clothing.

“Will you hunt tomorrow?”

“Cassia, why is it that even in death, you force yourself into my life, I am not yours,” you told her sternly.

“You are my fledgling, my blood flows within you, I can not leave you to die, not when you have so much potential and when you haven't given yourself a chance to find your soulmate, even in death, I love you more than myself”

“Then why did you leave? All you wanted was for me to love you, and when I did, you left,” you faced her, pointing accusingly.

“I made a mistake turning you, out of my own selfishness you were created. I couldn't keep you, and deny you the vampire meant to be yours. You can hate me, but I knew what was best, and trust me when I say, that coming to Paris was for the best, what’s yours is soon to come, sooner than you think,” she said, vanishing.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and Cassia never spoke to you. It was refreshing, not having her in your ear. Other than the praise and worship, Paris seemed like the change you needed. No one encountered any other vampires, and they all were beginning to blend, amongst the mortals, as they originally wanted.

“My lord, please help,” Marianne burst into your room. You were levitating, attempting to pray, but opened your eyes.

“What is it?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows at the blood smeared all over her face.

“Alexander is in trouble; he wandered off while we were hunting and came across a few other vampires, they followed him here and they're much stronger than the others, please do something,” she said, her voice filled with urgency. Nodding, you let your feet touch the ground, before following her.

Just as the door opened, you could see the vampires surrounding your coven, taunting them. Lifting from the ground, with only a flick of your finger, fire sparked around them, making them confusing look around looking up at you.

“Get away from them,” you warned them.

“You and your coven are in claimed territory, you’ve been here for months and haven't made your presence known,” one of the vampires spoke, his back had been turned to you the entire time.

“Careful,” Cassia spoke, you looked over at her. This was the first time seeing her in over seven months.

“I do not answer to other vampires,” you told him, going back to the ground, as he began to turn around.

Fire appeared in his hand, making you do the same, and just as he faced you, both of you froze. His eyes widened, while you shook your head in disbelief. Your heart was racing, goosebumps on your skin, as you stared at this beautiful creature. Your heart was reaching out to him, yearning to be loved and cherished by him, he was your soulmate.

“Enough, let them go,” he spoke to his coven, making them look at him confused.

“We can't just-

“Enough,” he raised his voice, and immediately they stopped, moving away.

Your coven slowly came to you, each of them bowing their heads at you. Alexander looking the most apologetic.

“I am sorry, my lord,” he started.

“You have done nothing wrong,” you reassured him.

“I am Armand, What is your name?” the man spoke, making your eyes shift back to him. As much as you knew for sure he was your soulmate, you refused to give in. To be used for his personal pleasures, like Cassia.

“That is none of your concern,” you said, and immediately he was in front of you. His eyes softened, reaching for your hand, but you took it away.

“You are my soulmate,” he started.

“And if I wasn't, what would have happened? You threatened my coven and me, I am quick to forgive, try again another time,” you spat, turning away, your coven following.

“You're just letting them leave,” Santiago asked, frowning.

“Yes, for now, we must go, the sun will be out soon,” he said, walking toward their bikes.

“Why would you deny him, deny yourself love?” Cassia asked.

“The sun will be out within the next hour,” you announced.

“You would rather be alone, and sulk until you die”

“Stop talking,” you muttered.

“You have followed in my footsteps with your selfishness”

“Cassia shut up,” you yelled, as your coven members shared looks of concern, seeing you yell at what seemed to be nothing.

“Everyone to your coffins,” you said, clearing your throat and going to your room.

“It is not my intention to hurt you, my love, but I don't want you to do this to yourself. If you could have seen from another perspective how he looked at you, he didn't want to harm you, if he comes back, give him a chance, please, for the both of us,” she told you, holding your cheek, before disappearing.

Going to your coffin, you blocked everyone out as they talked among themselves. Whispering questions, and ideas. As the sun came up, you fell asleep easily, all of them leaving your mind as you gave in to the well-needed rest.

Just as the moon covered the sky, you opened your eyes at the sound of a knock on the front door. Getting out of your coffin, you began to leave the room. You could see Demetrius at the door, it was only cracked, but you knew who stood on the other side.

“If I may speak with your leader”

“I don't think that is a-

“It is okay, Demetrius,” you told him, watching as he bowed, opening the door more to reveal him, holding a bouquet of roses.

“Are you sure?”

“I am, thank you,” you said.

“Good boy,” the youthful man said, tauntingly, while Demetrius slowly walked away, growling at him, as he disappeared into his room, as you approached the door.

“Is there something I can help you with?” you asked.

“You told me to try again another time, these are for you,” he said, holding out the flowers for you to take.

“I didn't think you would come so soon,” you said, making them fly across the room, landing on the nearby table.

“You are my soulmate, I couldn't go another moment knowing you are out there, away from me. I apologize for my coven and my behavior, we have been aware of your people for some time now, waiting for any of you to reveal yourselves,” he said.

“I too am at fault, I sensed the presence of another older vampire, but I didn't realize you would be so close,” you admitted, you couldn't decide if it felt odd or refreshing, as he stared into your eyes, nodding after each word that came from your mouth.

“Fate has a way of working, come with me, somewhere more private,” he said, holding out his hand. Hesitantly, you accepted his hand, exiting the house. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifted from the ground, flying through the sky.

He didn't stop until he was at the famous art museum, freezing security, slowly lowering to the ground. As your cold feet touched the floor, his hand went from your waist to your hand, leading you up the stairs.

“Your coven, they worship you as if you are their god, Y/n, it took a lot of digging to find out your name,” he started.

“They have convinced themselves I am some sort of saint for the damned, I have denied the title, but now I think they have simply chosen to be loyal to me,” you shrugged.

“And your faithful servant, Demetrius?” he asked in a tone you didn't like.

“What about him?”

“He is only your devout worshipper? He seemed to care-

“He is loyal, but if we had anything going on, it wouldn't be any of your business-

“Y/n, don't act like that,” Cassia appeared.

“Would you be quiet,” you started, but froze, realizing you spoke to her, in front of Armand.

“Are you…alright, darling?” he asked, glancing at you.

“My maker insists on haunting me, to make up for her mistakes,” you confessed.

“Her mistakes….”

“She thought I could potentially be her soulmate, so she turned me, but when she realized I would eventually meet my soulmate, she went into the sun,” you said, as you focused on the artwork along the walls.

“I’m sorry”

“Centuries, I have been alone, honored but unknown to my coven, it was her, who had convinced me to come to Paris”

“Then I should be thanking her, for bringing you to me,” he smiled, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“Armand, I can’t be with you, I hardly know you-

“You and I, we are more alike than you think, untrusting, hurt, a wall built around us, in hopes of protecting what was once wounded. I’m not asking for you to jump out of your comfort zone, but rather, I’d like to invite you to visit my theatre. You have to get to know someone to decide if they are worthy of being trusted,” he said, making you glance over at him.

This beautiful man, your soulmate, the deepest parts of your soul pleaded to give into his words. Fall into his embrace and exchange your love, but the emotional scars held you back.

Clearing your throat, you walked away from him, towards the next piece of art. “I’ll think about it,” you said, hearing his small chuckle, before he followed behind you.

“Where did you reside, before coming to Paris?” He asked, making you slightly frown.

“Why?”

“I’m only curious to know more about you, your background, how did a woman as beautiful as you, become a coven leader, with such powerful gifts,” he said.

“I could say the same, you look very young, how old were you?” you asked him.

“Ladies first,” he smirked. Looking into his eyes with a straight face, you searched for deception, any reason to not trust him, but you could find none. His body language was completely defenseless and open to you. Sighing, you opened your mouth, starting from the beginning, you shared your story with him.

From the windows, you could feel the eyes of your coven members. Lowering to the ground, with Armand, you held on comfortably, as the two of you continued talking.

The coven couldn’t deny how different you already seemed. This was the most they’d ever seen you speak, occasionally laughing at whatever the man had said. The sun would be out in less than an hour and here you stood out in the open, with the mysterious man.

“You should go, the sun will be out soon, and my coven, they are watching us”

“Intensely,” he agreed, making you snicker.

“You look so beautiful when you smile,” he continued, watching as you bit down on your lip.

“I have to go,” you said. Turning to leave, he reached for your hand, stopping you. Pulling the card from his pocket, he slipped it into your fingers.

“Come to the theatre, you and your coven,” he smiled.

“Sleep well, Armand,” you told him, walking away. You could feel the wind blow, as he flew into the sky.

Entering the house, your mood changed, seeing your coven shift their eyes from you. You knew it was out of respect, but you saw them as equals, and this was growing tiring.

“If any of you are up for it, we have been invited to Théâtre des Vampires, I’ll be going tomorrow,” you told them.

“And if you expect to blend in, then there will be no bowing or titles, we are going to enjoy ourselves, save your worship,” you said, turning to go upstairs.

“My lord,” you heard, as you were about to enter your bedroom.

“Yes,” you turned, facing Marianne.

“He’s your soulmate, isn't he?” she asked, a small smile, on her face.

“I’m afraid so,” you said lowly.

“Give him a chance, you deserve to be adorned with love and kisses. Just looking at him, I’m sure your heart flutters tremendously,” she said.

“Is that how you feel about Alexander?”

“From the moment I looked into his eyes, I fell in love, and it hasn't faltered since then, please, you deserve this,” she said, for the first time, meeting your eyes differently. Not as a devout worshipper, but a friend.

“Get some rest, Marianne,” you smiled at her, turning to leave her, going into your room.

“She’s right, you know,” Cassia spoke, as soon as the door shut.

“I thought you were done for the night,” you told her, as you removed your clothing, changing into your pajamas.

“I will be leaving you soon,” she smiled, looking down at her hands, two wedding rings decorated her finger.

“Giving me another break?”

“For good,” she said, as you snapped your head her way.

“What do you mean?”

“You have found your soulmate, you may not see it now, but Armand is persistent, and he loves hard. You will give in to his love, and finally, this void within you will be filled. Meaning, my work is done,” she smiled, a bloody tear dropping from her eye.

“Where will you go?”

“I am damned, so I would assume hell, not that it matters,” she laughed, bitterly.

“You don't have to do that, you can stay-

You began to protest, coming up with possibilities, while she stood, shaking her head. Approaching you, you began to cry quietly. You held a resentment towards her, yet you couldn't deny how much she meant to you, at this moment.

“You don't have to go,” you whispered.

“I may be damned, but I’ve done well with you, my greatest creation, my love, my angel — you make the dark gift shine beautifully in the night. You will always be the best thing that happened to me. All I ask is that you live, and continue to flourish, no matter what. No more dungeons, starving yourself, isolating from the world, do you understand?” she asked, smiling sadly, as you nodded.

“Yes,” you managed to speak.

“As much as I’d love to savor your lips, I will save them for your soulmate. Even when I’m not here anymore, I will live on through you. My blood flows in you, leaving a small piece of me with you, for an eternity. Goodbye, my sweet y/n,” she said, slowly fading. As she completely disappeared, you noticed the teardrop blood stain, right where she stood. Proof that she hadn't been part of your imagination, but actually with you, throughout the years.

Opening your coffin, your mind shifted between Armand and Cassia. Love. You still didn't what it was, but perhaps he could be the one to show you — with Cassia gone, what did you truly have to lose?

“We're trying to assimilate and these pricks are blatantly doing this, acting like it's a play,” you could hear Demetrius grumble, as you all sat, attempting to watch the play. The play that you all quickly realized, was one, terrible, and two, their way of killing humans in front of other humans.

“Exactly, but these mortals are just as pathetic because they find it scary,” Jonah laughed, as the curtain closed. The young girl could still be heard screaming, her voice growing faint.

“I see him,” Marianne bumped your shoulder, making you look over. He sat in a booth, facing you, and as soon as you met his eyes, he smiled. You almost returned the gesture, but instead, you kept a straight face, making his face falter for a moment.

Turning back towards the stage, you listened to Jonah, Demetrius, and Alexander go on about how terrible the play was, going as far as making jokes about the actors. You could feel his gaze, but you ignored it, watching as humans began to leave the theater.

“That was almost two hours of my life wasted,” Alexander whined to Marianne.

“Look who decided to show his face,” the familiar man spat, standing in front of you all, his eyes on Alexander.

“He doesn't want any problems with you,” you told him, as his eyes sharply shifted to you.

“Their dear coven leader, you have all of them afraid of you, but perhaps it's because you haven't met your equal, or someone stronger,” he hissed at you, as you stood up.

“Is that supposed to be you?” you tilted your head, fire sparking from your fingers.

“Enough, Santiago,” Armand spoke up. The man rolled his eyes, but obeyed his orders, backing away from you. The action seemed to catch the attention of all of his coven members, as they stopped what they were doing to watch the scene unfold.

“Y/n is my soulmate, disrespect to her is disrespect to me, and it will not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?” he raised his voice, and many of the members nodded in agreement. Santiago remained quiet when Armand grabbed him, choking him.

“Do you understand, Santiago?” he asked him, watching him struggle to nod, muttering an embarrassed, “Yes”.

“Good,” he shoved him away, his eyes moving to you.

“Come,” he held out his hand to you, watching as you slowly accepted it.

Looking down at your hands, his fingers intertwined with your own, you looked back at your coven. They smiled excitedly, Jonah giving you a thumbs up.

“I was surprised you came, what did you think of the play?”

“It was awful, but in a good way, I guess. I enjoyed the ending,” you said, laughing at his surprised expression.

“At least you're honest,” he sighed, his thumb brushing against your hand.

“I thought of you throughout the night, I hoped that you would show up,” he admitted, as he led you in the direction of the park.

“Yeah”

“All I wanted was to see your beautiful face again or smell your scent. I’ve never met any-

“Armand, this is difficult for me. I haven't experienced this kind of passion, for over half of my vampiric life. I didn't know how to love, or what it even means to,” you told him, but he only shook his head.

“Do you feel the same way, when you look at me? As if time stops, the compelling force to do or be anything your soulmate wants, as long as they will have you. The elation of just looking at your soulmate, because they look nothing but perfect in your eyes, do you feel this way too?” he asked, relief when you hesitantly nodded.

Pulling you closer, his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes. He seemed a bit hesitant, making you think of Cassia and Marianne. Their words replayed in your mind, you thought of the same saying from the previous night, what did you truly have to lose?

Standing on your toes, your lips pressed against his own, immediately, his arms were around your waist. Moaning into the kiss, you could feel the almost static connection between the two of you, just as your skin touched for a kiss.

“I-I want this, but I’m not ready,” you told him, feeling guilty, as you pulled away.

“There is no rush, as long as you remain close, we can take as much time as you need,” he said, holding your hand, and placing a kiss on it.

“And our covens?”

“They will learn to coexist, or they are free to leave,” he shrugged.

“I think we should get back, and maybe share this information with them,” you said.

“Anything you say,” Amrnand said, holding your hand, as he led you back to the theatre.

On your back way, you passed through the market, a young girl catching for attention. She stood next to a tent, holding a sign, in front of a crate of apples.

“Would you like an apple, mademoiselle?” she asked, reminding you of Cassia.

“I-no thank you,” you smiled, before looked back at you in confusion.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yes, we should hurry back,” you said to him, as he continued walking, pulling you close, leading you back the the theatre.

An eternity, you had an eternity with your soulmate. You could see now, that you would enjoy his company, he was protective, considerate, and kind. An eternity of being with Armand, perhaps then you would could finally begin to learn what it meant, to be loved.

i had to end it here bc y'all know i would go on and on 😂

[fairyhaos]

ᥫ᭡ // dude, i can see (through) you

vernon x gn!reader fluff, crack(?), supernatural au, non-idol au, ghosts, ft. ghost!jeonghan

3.5k+ words

warnings for: mentions of insomnia, pills

summary: when you move into your new house that seems almost too good to be true, you find yourself (not quite) face-to-face with the prettiest boy you've ever seen.

“Hey, hey, Hansol, did you hear that the family are finally leaving the house?”

“What? Already? Hyung, come on, why do you keep doing this?”

“It’s fun! I bet it was the floating pots and pans that did it. You know how much effort I put in to get those to lift up.”

“I liked these people. They had a dog!”

“Yeah, and the dog could see us. That’s a no-no.”

“Still, hyung, don’t you think we should just… try to live peacefully?”

“Ha! That’s funny. Anyways, I bet I can make the next tenant move out in just a month.”

“No. You shouldn’t do that.”

“So you don’t think I can?”

“I don’t think you should—”

“Oh, it’s on, Hansol! I'm gonna prove it to you!”

“Please don’t.”

───────────── 👻

There is something seriously, seriously wrong with your new house.

It’s nothing obviously wrong, however: on paper, it’s a perfect place. Situated in a nice town, not in an hugely overpopulated area, with various convenience stores and a park close by. Even the house is perfect: not too big, not too small, and, above all, startlingly cheap.

Everything about it is perfect. But from the first day that you move in, you realise that things are a bit… strange.

“Where the hell has my laptop gone?”

You thread your hand through your hair, exasperated. In the middle of your desk, where your laptop ought to be, there was an empty space.

You’ve always been a forgetful person, accidentally leaving your shoes in the wrong place or leaving doors open or forgetting where you put your keys, but this is getting ridiculous. Losing an entire laptop? That’s odd, even for you.

Frustrated, you open your various boxes that still contain half of your worldly possessions, wondering if you’d gone mad and somehow put it away in them instead.

When it becomes clear that your laptop has not been accidentally packed away, you straighten up, shaking your head and resigning yourself to the fact that your laptop is simply lost to the void that is your new house. Hopefully, you manage to find it again before you have to go to work in a couple of weeks.

───────────── 👻

“So, what’s it like, living by yourself?”

You huff, adjusting the phone against your ear as you crawl around on the floor, bending down to look under the sofa. “Really, really weird.”

Your friend laughs over the phone. “Weird? How?”

“Well, for starters,” you say, fishing out yet another fork that had somehow made it under your upholstery, “I think I’m being haunted.”

There’s a pause. “What?”

You don’t believe in the supernatural, or the paranormal, or anything mythical or to do with ghosts and vampires and the otherworldly. They’re all just tales, made up by idiotic people and spun into a capitalist plot by the media, creating franchise after franchise surrounding possessed dolls and muscled Hollywood men playing traumatised werewolves. It’s irritating, and most of all, it’s all fake.

Science and supernatural cannot coexist, after all.

But now, you’re beginning to question whether that’s really the case.

“—turned all my clocks forward by four hours. Four! I thought I was going insane,” you say, standing up and returning to your kitchen with the fork in your hands, after finding your cutlery drawer empty an hour earlier, despite the fact that you’d put away all your cutlery only yesterday.

You put the fork away, and then open up a cupboard to grab a glass, only to flinch and scream at what you see.

“Oh my god, Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?”

“This is ridiculous,” you breathe, staring up at your cupboard.

Every single row is squashed full of your soft toys.

“Hey, Y/N, are you listening to me? Hello? Can you hear me?”

You blink up in extreme despair at the cupboard before shutting the door. You don’t have the energy to deal with it right now. “Yeah, I’m here,” you say, holding the phone more securely against your ear. “Listen, I might have to call you back. I still haven’t fully unpacked yet.”

“Are you okay? You screamed and then suddenly went silent.”

Heaving a sigh, you close your eyes for a moment and then open them again. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you later, alright?”

You hang up, and walk out of the kitchen and into the hallway, before pausing in your tracks, staring wide-eyed at the front door.

The front door that was wide open.

You blink.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the door begins to swing shut, before suddenly closing with a sudden bang.

You stand there for a moment longer, before shaking your head and walking up the stairs.

Whichever ghost was haunting you, they sure were weird.

───────────── 👻

“Hey, Hansol, why is this tenant not leaving?”

“I told you. You shouldn’t do this.”

“Hmm, nah. It’s okay. It’s only been a week. I can do this.”

“Should you, though?”

───────────── 👻

Hansol is, unfortunately, so dead.

Very much in the literal sense as well, because he's a ghost. Don't ask him about the logistics of that, or how it came to be, because he doesn't know. All he knows is that one day he died and the next, he opened his eyes and no one could see him. 

But he's also so dead in the figurative sense, too. Because he and his Jeonghan hyung (who was technically a year or so younger than him when he died but still insists on being called ‘hyung’ because he died around a century earlier than him, and “you ought to respect people’s deathdays, Hansol”) have been inhabiting this house for several years, now, but he’s never had a desire to be human again in all that time.

That is, until he meets you.

You’re the latest owner of this house, and you’re… well, you're interesting.

Never before has he seen someone so tolerant of Jeonghan’s schemes. In his attempt to win at a bet that he’d created by himself, Jeonghan was pulling out all the big guns on you: starting off by being a nuisance, then an irritant, then infuriating before escalating into downright chaotic, in a climax where he made all the doors open and slam repeatedly in the middle of the night.

It’s enough to make anyone want to move out. Hansol half-expected you to leave within the first five days, but instead, you clench your jaw and plaster a smile on your face and keep on going.

He thinks it’s a little curious that you’re putting on a smile, even though there’s no one to see it. Like you’re constantly always alert of people watching you, and feeling the need to put on a mask. It makes him want to be human, just for a second, to put a hand on your shoulder and ask if you’re really okay.

During the second week, however, he realises that you really aren’t okay.

“The tenant still hasn’t gone to sleep,” Jeonghan sulks, floating through your bedroom door to sit (well, hover) beside Hansol on the floor just outside. 

“You can just say Y/N,” Hansol reminds him. “What do you mean, though? All humans are meant to be asleep by now.”

“Yeah, well, ours isn’t,” Jeonghan huffs. He crosses his arms petulantly, and his translucent ghost self flickers and wobbles at the dramatic movement. “Why not?”

Hansol shrugs. “How am I meant to know?”

Before Jeonghan can say something snarky in reply, the door to your bedroom door swings open, and the two ghosts flinch and freeze up, momentarily forgetting that they're ghosts. 

They watch as you slowly trudge down the stairs, muttering annoyedly to yourself. You had a dressing gown drawn over you, and you hug it against yourself while you shuffle through your house, before walking into the kitchen.

Hansol looks at Jeonghan, and the other just shrugs, and they both decide to follow you and see what you’re up to.

Hansol peeks his head through the wall just as you pop a few pills into your mouth.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks, pushing Hansol through the wall so that he’s standing in the kitchen properly. “Are those drugs?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Hansol says, and then floats closer so he can see the writing in the bottle you’re holding. It doesn’t help, though, because the writing is all faded, like this is a bottle you’ve had for a while. “Medicine? But what for?”

Jeonghan folds his arms, sitting on the table. “Great. Our new tenant is dying.”

“Does this mean you’ll stop being mean now?” Hansol asks, coming to sit next to Jeonghan.

“I’m not mean.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not! When have I ever been mean, hm? Tell me, Hansol!”

Suddenly, there’s a clatter, and a mess of white pills spread out across the floor, under the table and throughout the entire kitchen. Both of the ghosts, pause, and when Hansol looks up, his eyes widen.

You’re looking directly at him.

No one says anything, and for a long, long moment, you continue to stare directly at Hansol, and he swallows uneasily, glancing over at Jeonghan. The other ghost is just sitting there, too, but he’s looking at you with interest, eyes flicking between you and Hansol.

“It’s… it’s not me, right?” Hansol says hesitantly. “Surely our tenant isn’t seeing me.”

“Try moving,” Jeonghan says, and directs his gaze back to you. There’s not a trace of wariness in his eyes, and Hansol feels more confused than ever. Jeonghan was the one who said that the last family ought to be kicked out because their dog could see them.

Nevertheless, arguing with Jeonghan wastes fifteen years of Hansol’s (undead) lifetime every time, so he does as he’s told, hopping off from the table and almost falls on his face when your eyes track his movements as he does so.

“Holy shit,” you whisper. Hansol’s beginning to feel a bit panicky now. “Dude, I can see through you.”

And then your eyes glaze over and you crumple into a heap on the floor.

───────────── 👻

“Y/N can see us,” Hansol says, pacing frantically. “Hyung, we’re doomed! We’re—we’re gonna get exorcised and go to Hell and have to meet the Devil!”

Jeonghan just hums, looking down at your sleeping form. “I don’t think so.”

After you had fainted, the two ghosts had (very painstakingly) carried you back up the stairs and back into bed. It takes a huge amount of effort for ghosts to be able to make themselves felt in the living plane, and Hansol had been gasping from the effort for a solid hour afterwards.

Now, though, the exhaustion has worn off, and he’s currently making Jeonghan mildly dizzy with all his pacing.

“Hyung.” Hansol whirls around again to face Jeonghan, making the elder ghost raise his eyebrows. “You know what this means, right? This tenant is unwell. You’re not allowed to play your tricks anymore.”

That makes Jeonghan pause. He bites his thumb, then, thinking, before nodding his head. “Fine. I don’t like tormenting the sick, anyways. It hurts to think about.”

Hansol sighs at that, mouth twisting in sympathy. He pats Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Don’t think about it. You’ve been dead for ages, hyung. I’m surprised your memory is still intact.”

Jeonghan scowls, pinching Hansol’s side, making the younger ghost yelp and then laugh. “Hey! We’re basically the same age.”

“Give or take around a hundred years.”

“Yeah, barely anything!”

The two ghosts continue bickering, their voices absorbed into the nothingness that was the plane of the dead. 

In your bed, you turn your head towards the direction of warped voices, squinting at the faint outlines that you can see near the window.

───────────── 👻

“—really handsome dude, oh my god,” you’re saying while you sort through your papers. Your laptop still hasn’t turned up. “Is there any side effect of taking sleeping pills again after a long time of not using them that, like, causes hallucinations of hot guys?”

Over the phone, your friend laughs. “I guess living by yourself really is making you go insane, huh?”

“I’m not insane,” you insist, chuckling. “It sounds insane, but I swear, he was so…” You hide your face behind your hand, despite the fact that no one can see you. 

“That gorgeous, huh?” comes the response from the other end of the line, and you get the distinct feeling that your friend doesn’t really believe you. You take your hand away from your face, trying to rub away the blush on your cheeks.

“Yeah, actually, he was! Anyway, I gotta go. I still haven’t found my laptop, and doing all my work by hand isn’t going well.”

“Go to the library and use a computer there.”

You pause. “Oh. Good idea. I’ll do that tomorrow. Goodnight, I gotta go now.”

There’s a laugh on the other end. “Okay. Goodnight, Y/N.”

The two ghosts sit on your bed, watching you as you hang up the phone and go back to your work.

“So,” Jeonghan says, and his tone is light and teasing, “Y/N thinks you’re pretty gorgeous, huh? I guess you really were seen, after all.” He nods his head in your direction. “Our new tenant is definitely really interesting.”

Silence falls again, and Hansol watches you agonise over your sheets, one hand permanently buried in your hair.

“Hyung,” he says after a moment, “You should give Y/N the laptop back.”

───────────── 👻

“Stupid goddamn insomnia,” you mutter to yourself, trudging down the stairs yet again. “Why can’t I go to sleep?”

You’ve been in your new house for just over two weeks, now, and things are… normal. After the initial weird things happening during the first several days, everything seems to have settled down, almost like the house had gotten used to its new owner. It makes you laugh, every time you think of it in that way, but there’s no other way to explain how the sudden door slammings have stopped, and all your things seem to be exactly where you left them.

And even the other day, you’d found your laptop again.

Everything was going well.

A flash of big, translucent brown eyes flash across your vision, and you shake your head, trying to dispel the memory.

You despise taking your pills, hate them for how drowsy they make you throughout the rest of the day, but just over a week into moving in, you’d caved and succumbed to their awful numbness. Your insomnia had flared up, almost, as if panicked by the new environment, leaving you unable to sleep for several days.

Strangely, though, after you’d had that… vision, you’d been able to sleep easier for a while. 

Large, surprised eyes flood your memory again, and you frown, scrunching your eyes and attempting to get rid of it.

That boy hadn’t appeared in your vision again after that night, and you’ve reluctantly convinced yourself that it had just been a side effect of the sleeping pills and your own lack of sleep. Hallucinations weren’t uncommon with strong sleeping pills, after all.

You finish downing your pills, drinking the entire mug of water for good measure, before wiping your mouth and setting the mug down on the counter. 

Groggily, you rub your eyes and attempt to head out of the kitchen, stumbling a little as you go. Just because you can’t sleep doesn’t mean you aren’t tired, after all. It’s just your stupid body not allowing you to fall asleep.

Abruptly, your foot catches against your other ankle, and you slam into the doorframe with a cry of pain. Eyes still bleary, you move jerkily only to feel yourself keeling over backwards, falling faster and faster towards the floor, and then—

A pair of arms catch you, and you fall back against a sturdy chest that stumbles, just slightly, under your weight, before gaining control and slowly lowering you to the floor, still in their embrace, head in their lap.

Your head is spinning, vision blurry, but as you look up, the sight that stares back at you is as clear as day.

Big, brown, translucent eyes.

Your own eyes widen in shock, and the pair of eyes staring into yours widen too.

“Oh my god,” you say. “How did you get into my house?”

The boy above you opens and closes his mouth wordlessly. “Um… I live here?”

“Like hell you do,” you return. Before you can say anything else, however, the feeling of his arms disappears and you drop the last few inches onto the floor, back making contact with the hard wood. You yelp in pain, and he cringes apologetically.

“Sorry! Sorry. Uh, it’s hard to make myself tangible for long. I didn’t meant to do that. Sorry.”

You sit up, rubbing your back. “Wait, what do you mean? Are you not…”

Another boy steps into your vision. No—he floats, feet constantly millimeters from the ground. He bends down over the boy sitting on the floor next to you, looking down at you with interest. “I’m surprised that you’ve managed to make yourself visible to our tenant for so long, Hansol.”

You blink, lost. “Hey, I can see you too, you know.”

The new boy looks bewildered at that. “You can?” Then his eyes widen. “And you can hear me?”

“You’re talking, aren’t you?” You narrow your eyes. “Is this some prank? Halloween is right around the corner, after all. Are you playing with me?”

“No, no!” The boy who caught you shakes his head frantically. “No, we’d never. Well, Jeonghan hyung might, but I wouldn’t.” He pauses, and then smiles hesitantly, standing up. “Um… we’re ghosts?”

You don’t say anything for a long moment. And then you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Prove it.”

“Please don't pani—what?”

“Prove it,” you say, and then shrug. “I gotta make sure that you’re really ghosts, you know? How do I know that you’re what you say you are?”

The other ghost, Jeonghan, raises an eyebrow. “Why would we lie to you?”

“I dunno. You’re bored?”

Jeonghan thinks about it for a moment, before nodding. “Fair point.” And then, abruptly, he walks up to you, and you expect him to stop right before you, but to your surprise, he carries on going and walks right through you instead.

“Jesus!” you shiver, a horrible coldness running down your spine. “Don’t do that!”

Jeonghan just beams. “Do you believe us now?”

You look back at Hansol, thinking. If you tilt your head just slightly, he flickers out of focus, like a mirage. But when you look at him in just the right angle, he looks as present as any human, only a little less so. Like he’s almost here, but not quite.

After a second, you nod your head. “I suppose you really are ghosts,” you say, and there’s just enough awe in your voice to make Hansol’s eyes widen in confusion.

“You’re… not going to run away?”

“Are you kidding? This is so cool,” you say, clasping your hands together. You grin. “It was getting lonely here anyway. And besides, you’re also really pretty.” Your eyes widen at your own words, and you backtrack. “Uh, pretty cool. That’s what I meant. Ghosts are cool, you know?”

Jeonghan laughs. “Hansol already knows that you think he’s gorgeous. We heard you.”

Instantly, a flush surges up into your cheeks, and Hansol rubs at his nose, embarrassed, before punching Jeonghan in the shoulder. He doesn’t deny it, though, which makes you feel kind of really flustered, but there’s a shy smile on his face as he looks at you.

“I think you’re also really pretty, too,” he says, and goddamnit, a ghost shouldn’t have the power to make you blush like this.

Jeonghan is about to say something, but then gets interrupted when, abruptly, a yawn wracks your frame and you cover your mouth, face scrunching up.

“Well, I think I need to head to bed,” you say, rubbing at your eyes. “Think I’m finally getting tired.”

That makes Hansol almost wilt in disappointment, and it’s such a cute sight that you almost reach over to ruffle his hair. Which is weird. Because he’s a ghost, and also because you hardly know him, but there’s something just so endearing about Hansol that makes you feel like you want to know him forever and ever.

Slowly, you make your way back upstairs, the ghosts trailing after you.

“I’m going to pester you both with questions tomorrow,” you inform them as you get into bed. “Like, about how I’m able to see ghosts and why I can hear you and how long you’ve both been here. I really will.”

Jeonghan laughs. “We look forward to it. It’s been a while since we’ve had someone other than each other to talk to. I think we’ll both like your company.” He nudges Hansol in the side, smile turning devious. “Hansol even more so than me.”

Hansol groans, covering his face, and you just smile, too drowsy to think of what that means at the moment.

“Leave my room before I go to sleep,” you say, as your eyelids close. “I heard you talking in my room a few nights ago, you know. You should know it’s not good to spy on people in their sleep.”

Jeonghan might reply with something, but you’re not entirely sure. Sleep is already pulling you under, pulling you far away from the state of being awake.

The last thing you recall is a cool pressure against your forehead, and a warm voice whispering your name.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @butiluvu @sakufilms @eightlightstar @aaniag @amxlia-stars

[nerdiest-girl-in-town]

At first I wanted to write a funny post about how I made my own crochet Dip and Pip dolls and how I thought about making them kiss and then cringed at the thought and how they beat me at it but I thought about everything that I had a chance to see about the yesterday's show and I started crying. This is partly a confession and partly my take on old and new era.

I wasn't part of the fandom from the start, I actually started watching their videos when I was like 17 or something (which was in 2018) and internet became a form of escapism from mean classmates. I admit that I found boys because of shipping community-and to this day I'm working on not feeling ashamed because of it- but it became somethign much more for me. I wanted to get as much knowledge as I could so I started digging through the internet to see how they started with making videos, what they did before that, got some idea about the video-that-shallnot-be-named and the conspiracies... And suddenly it wasn't like shipping Johnlock or Destiel, these are real people with real feelings. I still sometimes feel bad about myself for craving the answer for what is their exact relationship status or about wanting them to be open about how much they love each other instead of dropping hints but I know these are the exact things that hurt them in the past (And I'm still afraid that if we overstep, they might leave YouTube and never come back).

Because of the tour I just realised what they must have gone through to become these new Dan and Phil that we love so much, that when they share something with us it's with such care and caution. I've always adored their relationship (whatever they want to call it) and they've become such inspiring people in my life, helping me through tough times. Sometimes I just need to hear Dan say that things can be bad and you don't have to pretend to be happy all the time, sometimes I just need one of Phil's funny stories to brighten up my day and to realise that nobody is normal and that's my superpower too. I've always adored the way they treat each other and thought to myself ' I want friend/partner that will treat me the same way'.

With time I started to care more about if they are trully happy and comfortable with everything they share than if my theories are right, than if they upload new video twice or three times a week, than when they will hard launch. Don't get me wrong, I love this new era and I love all the small things like when they held hands in Spookyweek or how they are teasing us about our own behaviour like 'omg they touched'. I just want them to be happy and I want to be the best kind of fan they deserve.

This tour is a proof all the things written above are starting to become true. They are sharing the most intimate stuff with us and we are rewarding them with not being toxic fans. I feel like we finally understand that we shouldn't take them for granted, we had to earn this and we know we are exceptionally lucky to have people like Dan and Phil that love making content for us and interacting with us.

[chubbygirlmaddy14]

The Dollmaker: The Pastries

Dale Kobble x reader

A/N: This chapter is awful I'm actually so sorry for how this one came out, I promise future ones will be better

Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/story/374688245?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create&wp_uname=chubby_girl_maddy16

Chapter 10: The Pastries (1,225 words)

  I ended up moving in with my grandma after everything until I graduated. She was the only one who was there for me whenever I needed her the most, but she never knew about the abuse and everything that happened until after their deaths. It was nice but I still needed to get out of this town for a while.

Present Time

  I wake up screaming as I dream about that day. My heart is pounding outside my chest as I sit up on the couch trying to catch my breath, the movie is long over as I look at the clock seeing it read 3 am.

Why tonight? It was going so well and now this

I think to myself as I get up making my way to my bedroom, not wanting to spend the night anymore on the couch.

  Laying in bed I collect my thoughts as my breathing has now gone steady, my hands over my face rubbing the tiredness away. I need to sleep, I need to get the rest, I only have 3 hours left, but the dream fills my mind, playing over and over again.

Cobble makes his way back into my mind

giving me a little bit of relief.

  His smile, the way he giggles as he talks, how happy he gets when we see each other. Maybe he does like me.. no he's just being neighborly, the new girl in town. I'm so much younger than him anyways, he wouldn't wanna be with someone my age. He probably would think it's weird if he could see how I felt about him.

Soon with him in my mind

I'm able to fall asleep easy.

Longlegs POV:

  I can't sleep, she's all I'm thinking about. It was so nice being with her, I'm getting closer and closer to her and she will be mine, sooner or later... preferably sooner though. I work on the doll knowing I need to get it done for the girls birthday in time. All I can think about though is y/n.

  When I heard that she was the one who bought the house I was more than ecstatic, ready to see how much my girl has grown. Now I was getting her right where I wanted her, in my arms, going out, it'll be official I can just tell.

Y/n POV:

  My alarm starts blaring at me, making me groan before shutting it off. I couldn't open my eyes, I didn't want too, but I had to get to work. I make my way out of bed, going through the closet as I finally had put my clothes away, I grab professional but comforting clothes.

  Last night made me feel better, but now I had to be professional with all of this. I hear a knock at the door as I make my way downstair, moving to look through the peephole. I see Dale standing outside with a tray of some kind, making my heart grow fond. Opening the door I smile at him, "Dale!" I say softly.

"what are you doing here it's 6:30?"

  He smiles as I let him inside, following him into the kitchen as he sets it down and takes the aluminum foil off it. "Well after you told me you didn't eat yesterday, I thought you would maybe like these for breakfast." I look at the tray seeing small pastries it looks like he had made for me

"I made them with some of the fruits we got at

the market the other day."

  I stare at them before moving my eyes back to him, not believing he would do something like this. My favorite pastries too

how did he know this?

  I push that though aside, making my way over to him and hugging him tightly, standing on my toes to wrap my arms around his shoulder. His arms go around my waist before he lifts me up onto the counter, hiding his face in my neck as we hug tighter. He was way taller than me and he knew it, making me as comfortable as possible in the hug.

       This wasn't neighborly, he wanted more

and I needed more.

  We pull away and he pushes some hair out of my face as I look into his eyes, I can tell he cares a lot. "You didn't sleep well," he says, grabbing a strawberry one as he hands it to me, seeing the eyebags that rested under my eyes.

I grab it from him taking a small bite, "I just had a nightmare, something from my past it's no big deal," I refuse to look at him, still taking bites.

  He doesn't look away, I can feel his eyes on me making me smirk, "didn't your mommy ever tell you staring is rude?" I giggle making him look away and laugh a bit, "how can I look away when such a pretty girl is right in front of me.

  My face turns red as I look up at him, not saying anything back. He smiles getting closer to me again before my phone starts going off on the counter. Picking it up I bring it to my ear

  "Hello, this is y/n." I hear Agent Carters voice over the phone, giving me an address to meet him and Agent Harker at. I put the phone and pastry down, jumping off the counter as I go to grab my FBI jacket and shoes.

  "I'm really sorry, I have to go somewhere.. just my job." I sigh putting on my shoes as he meets me over by the door. "Oh it's none of your fault! it's the life you signed up for, not expecting a case just getting here didn't you."

I laugh softly shaking my head, "no I wasn't expecting a case like this early on."

  I open the door as he walks me to my car, opening the door for me as I make sure I have everything. "Thank you for the breakfast treats again, I really appreciate it." I lean up holding his cheek with one hand, my lips kissing the other cheek. Red corrupts over his pale skin making me giggle softly.

Pulling away I get in the car, driving off once he's stepped back and waving goodbye before he makes his way back home."

   He's the one thing I need to fill my empty space.

  Pulling up to the address Carter said to me, I see only his car followed with him and Agent Harker. It was the Camera families home, one that we thought was cleared through already. Harker proved otherwise as she was able to decipher the letters she had with her, x marks the spot.

Making our way inside the barn after finding the X's along the door, we pull our flashlights out before we break apart. Soon walking into the room, I find a trail of more leading up the stairs. A crucifix dead center of the floor board, leaving the three of us confused.

Stepping back, Carter moves the leaves and hay that rest a top of it before pulling it up making the floor board lift up with it. 

                            A life sized doll.

[renee-writer]

A Fire Chapter 21

AO3

“Mama?” She rests, feet up in the great room.

 

“My darling,” the smile she gives me is wistful and there is a film of tears in her eyes, “It is hard to believe you are about to be a bride. Seemed only yesterday I was holding you in my arms as a newborn.”

 

I take a seat beside her and place my hand on her small bump. “Soon you will have another.”

 

“True,” She rests her head on the back of the couch, “but there is nothing like your first born.”

 

It is an opening and I take it. “But mama, I wasn’t your first born. That would be my sister, Faith.”

 

Her head jerks up and she stares at me. “Bree, how do you know about Faith?”

 

“Fergus told me. He said she was born in Paris.”

 

She nods. “Right, he was there. He brushed my hair. Trying to get rid of the guilt. He blamed himself.”

 

I am captivated. “Why?”

 

She sighs. “That horrid man I told you about,” She waits my nod, “he hurt him,” a shake of her head. Her eyes get steely, “no, far worse. He raped him, sodomized him. He was only eleven.”

 

I gasp, feeling my stomach twist. A feeling of dizziness and nausea runs through me.

 

“He cried out. Your da ran in, caught him. They dueled. He wasn’t too, I was trying to protect Frank’s line, as I believed he would come from him. It was his much nicer brother, Alex, that he actually… A story for another day.

 

I rushed out to try to stop them. I didn’t know then why he… Fergus told me later. The stress the shock of it, I started bleeding.

 

She was born to soon, this tiny doll like creature. Had skin so thin I could see through it. Red hair, slanted closed eyes. I held her for the longest time. Couldn’t bare to give her up.

 

The good Mother named her Faith. She is buried in the hospital ‘s cemetery.

 

I almost died myself.”

 

“Mama!”

 

She pats my hand, her eyes far away. “A piece of her placenta didn’t  get delivered. Master Raymond, a dear friend and fellow healer, he drew it out of me. In truth, there was a time then I wanted to die.

 

Jamie was locked away for the duel, our baby was gone,” She blinks and returns to me and the present, “Now I am so glad I lived. To see you married, to have a chance to raise this baby with Jamie, to see my grandchildren.”

 

I rest my head against her. “I’m sorry about Faith, mama.”

 

“Thank you love.” We sit and watch the fire.

[ranchracoon]

Devour Ch. 11 Fitting

You can’t hide the smile that plasters your face even if you try, your heart is fluttering with happiness as you lay there on Daniela’s bed. Eventually you get dressed but your hands keep shaking, making it harder to rebutton the shirt. When you descend the stairs into the library you chuckle to yourself at how your wildest dreams have come true within 24 hours. Over a year of hiding emotions, putting your feelings into your work, somehow surviving all led to now. Every step you take the heat inside your belly grows, spreading over your body evenly until your entire body is overheated; the ice-cold bite of the outside is a welcomed relief as you sigh from the crisp air cooling you off.

You make your way to the fitting room and stand outside the door of a woman holding a child, glancing beneath your feet at the faint blood stain now on the carpet from yesterday. After a few deep breaths you calm yourself enough to make your face stoic and neutral, like always, despite the smile that keeps threatening to show. The door creaks open and the daughter’s laughter echoes from down the hall, as you round the corner the three of them go silent to look at you like a pack of hungry lionesses. Their eyes glow dimly from the light above their heads, all of their eyes caress your body slowly before they all land on yours.

“Took you long enough.” Teases Bela.

“I wanted to make sure I looked good enough for you.” You say flirtatiously.

“Mmm you always look good.” Daniela purrs.

“Taste pretty good too.” Cassandra winks.

Your face turns bright red, creeping up to your ears as you suddenly lose the confidence you had a moment before. The three of them laugh loudly at your predicament which only makes you blush harder and fold your arms in front of your chest. The door to the dressing room flies open, Lady Dimitrescu bends down to walk through the doorway before standing upright to look over her daughters and you with a raised eyebrow. She clasps her hands in front of her, before settling on her daughters.

“You three may go in now.”

The daughters all giggle and give you a wave as they enter the dressing room, leaving you alone with Lady Dimitrescu. You stare at the door into the dressing room not daring to look at the lady until she addresses you.

“Y/N.”

You shoot your head up, “yes ma’am?”

“Remind me to call someone about fixing the hole that man-thing made. Also, I need you to keep an eye on Angie once you’re done until dinner is ready. My daughters will be entertaining Donna.”

“Of course, my lady.” You nod your head.

She leaves without another word and you listen to the sound of her heels fade until you can’t hear them anymore. As you stand in the hallway you rock back and forth between your heels and balls of your feet while looking around for something to do to pass the time. You tried listening to what the girls are saying behind the door, but even your sensitive hearing you could only make out muffled words. After a few minutes the three sisters walk out, each of them gives you a wave and a smile before taking their leave as well.

When they are gone you stare at the door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before going in, and finding Lady Beneviento standing on a stool while holding a measuring tape. Her portrait in the church does her no justice, she’s much smaller than you imagined and you’re grateful to finally be taller than someone other than another maid. You take off the jacket to allow better measurement and stand in front of Lady Beneviento as she lifts your arms rather than ask you to raise them. Out of the corner of your eye you notice movement, when you turn your head, you come face to face with the doll that’s also in Lady Beneviento’s portrait. You jump from the surprise but Lady Beneviento grabs your arm harshly to keep you from moving, once you calm down enough, she loosens her hold.

“What’s your name?” The doll asks.

“Y/N ma’am, and you are?” You ask.

“How do you not know who I am?! Donna, she doesn’t know who I am!” She yells.

“Apologies ma’am, it’s only polite to ask rather than assume. You must be Angie Beneviento, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” You swallow trying to recover.

“That’s right! You’re a maid here?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Stop calling me ma’am. I’m not THAT old!” She lightly strikes your shoulder with her wooden hand, “you don’t look like the other maids. Why are you wearing that instead of what the other maids are wearing?”

“Well, I usually wear a different suit than this but it was ruined when I had an unfortunate accident. So I’m stuck with this until I get a new uniform.”

“An accident? What kind?” Angie hovers closer to your face.

“A shelf in the kitchen was overweight and it finally gave out. I unfortunately was near it when it did, and got blood and wine all over.” You lie.

Angie stares at you then cocks her head to one side, “you know we can tell when you lie.”

Your eyes widen as you open your mouth to say something but she only cackles loudly, holding her stomach while wiping an imaginary tear.

“I’m just messing with you; you should see look on your face. Ha! I wish I had been there to see it fall!”

            A shuffling noise behind you makes you turn around to see Lady Beneviento standing beside you, Angie hovers over into her arms with a hum. You twist around to put on the jacket you had taken off then straightened up and faced the lady and Angie.

            “Thank you, Lady Beneviento, I greatly appreciate you taking the time to measure me.”

            Lady Beneviento says nothing but her veil moves slightly in a way that makes you think she nodded.

            “Now, Lady Dimitrescu ordered me to keep an eye on Angie for you while you catch up with your nieces. If I may.” You offer your arms.

            Angie squeals with glee, “oh! I hope you’ll play with me!” She lunges out of Lady Beneviento’s arms and into yours.

            Lady Beneviento hesitates for a moment before she bends over to collect a small black bag that she placed a folded paper and the tape measure in. You bow your head, holding Angie in one arm and the door open with the other for Lady Beneviento. She pauses in front of you, her veil shifts in your direction and you make out the outline of her face through the material. Lady Beneviento places a slender, pale hand upon your shoulder and gives it the gentlest of squeezes.

            “You are a very kind being Y/N, don’t lose that.”

            You look at her in shock as she walks away, her voice still lingers in the air; it was hoarse and scratchy from lack of use. Angie looks up at you and you look down at her, she has her mouth open with the same ‘shocked’ expression you have.

            “Wow. You got Donna to speak. They were right.” Giggles Angie.

            “Who was right?” You glare at her.

            She does a zipping motion over her mouth, and hovers in front of you near the open door.

            “If you want the answer, you’re going to have to catch me!” She squeals.

            She is off in a flash, leaving you stunned for a brief moment before you run after her. Much to your relief, Lady Beneviento is already out of the cramped hall that leads to the main hall but so is Angie.

            “Fuck. She’s fast for a doll.” You mutter to yourself.

            The door to the main hall bursts open, you catch Angie at the end laughing at you while she levitates to go down the stairs, flying past Lady Beneviento. Your eyes dart from the Lady to the banister on the foyer; Angie took the stairs despite being able to float and you can use that to your advantage. Sucking up as much encouragement as you can, you sprint down the hall, take a sharp left, grip the banister with one hand and fling yourself over it. You land with a loud thud on your feet, Angie screams from almost being landed on and attempts to flee away in the other direction. You reach out with a flash of your hand and grab her waist, holding her tightly in your grasp. She bites your hand and you flinch with a warning growl but your hand only tightens around her.

            Lady Beneviento approaches you; you stand upright with Angie struggling in your grip and bow to the Lady. She walks through the double doors into the dining room and you turn your attention to Angie.

            “Caught you.” You growl.

            “Fine! Let me go!” She whines.

            “You said you would tell me if I caught you, now cough it up before I turn you into a toothpick.”

            “Okay okay, geez. The girls wouldn’t shut up about you, and I think they really like you. I’ve never heard them talk about someone the way they did about you. They even said you were special and I have to agree! You made Donna talk and that jump you just did?! Wowee!”

 You release the doll to cross your arms over your chest, she brushes her hands over dress to smooth out the wrinkles that were already there. Your chest erupted in flutters, your pulse increases, and adrenaline courses through your veins. A smile wiggles its way over your face, and you bite your lower lip to contain it. The daughter talked about you, and it took every ounce of restraint not to externalize your excitement.

            “Alright then. Now what shall we do?” You ask, looking around the hall.

            “Play a prank on Miss D!” She darts off again.

            “No!” You yell, as you chase after her. Again.

            The next hour you run after Angie: catching priceless things she bumps into while trying not to bump into anything yourself, keeping her away from Lady Dimitrescu’s chambers, and many, many other things. How one doll can cause so much destruction is beyond you, but now you see why the Lady tasked you with keeping an eye on her. The sweet sound of the clock chimes to signify dinner time and Angie giggles into the dining room where Lady Beneviento, Lady Dimtrescu, and the girls already are.

The day is warm enough for everyone to sit in there, but still cold enough that snow lingers outside. You follow behind Angie, sweat dripping down your face and soaking into the white shirt, having abandoned the jacket earlier. All the ladies smile at you humorously as you sit next to Lady Dimitrescu and Angie finds her way into Lady Beneviento’s lap.

            “Have fun?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, before she takes a sip from her cup.

            “I had an absolute blast! I can’t wait to come back here.” Angie buts in.

            You breathe out, “to be honest, I need a drink my lady.”

            Lady Daniela laughs in response as the maid, who you do know as Freia, is followed by a few others you recognize but don’t know that work out in the vineyard. A cup is placed in front of you and you immediately reach for it, drink it down, unbothered by the new wine mixture that is bitter against your tongue. The cup slams down and you gasp to catch your breath, only now realizing just how thirsty you are. You glance over at Daniela who is looking at your chest before she catches your gaze and looks away sheepishly. Furrowing your brow, you look down and see the sweat has made your shirt see-through. There’s a few bits of wine too that dribbled from the corners of your mouth, normally that would have mortified you but you are too tired to care in that moment.

            You clear your throat, your face pinched from the sourness that lingers on your tongue. The cup is re-filled by another worker who eyes you, the envy rolling off them when they pull away, and the gleam of anger flashes in their eyes. The laughter around the table is drowned out by the guilt that slithers its way up your chest and into your head. Not that long ago you were serving the meals and wine to the ladies, a no body that was just another servant here in the castle. Now you are on the other side of the veil, a murderer in their eyes for killing their coworkers. A film is cast over your eyes, making you zone out into the spiraling mess of your thoughts until that film is startling ripped off by Angie’s shrill laughter.

            You shake your head, having not realized that food has been served. You reach for your fork then eat in silence, only listening to bits of the conversations around you. When you finish your meal, the plate is taken away, leaving you to sip on the wine in your glass rather than chug it this time. You draw your attention away from the eyes of the other servants who return to the kitchen, and instead watch the girls talk with Lady Beneviento. Mostly they talk to themselves, with Lady Beneviento in the middle, and Angie responding to the conversation. You steal a look up at Lady Dimitrescu who is smiling fondly at the scene unfolding.

            A familiar warm sensation pushes out the guilt as you look back at the girls, the feeling of submerging into a warm bath after a hard day. You absorb their laughing faces at whatever Angie schemes with them, their features are highlighted by the rays of sun that leak through the windows, and how the sight of them fills your heart. Lady Beneviento slowly rises and bows her body toward everyone, including you, Angie loudly saying her goodbyes. Lady Dimitrescu orders you to escort Lady Beneviento out to the carriage gate, and you hurriedly take a stand. Lady Beneviento and Angie silently follow you through the main hall, down the small corridor and into the carriage gate where you open the large iron door for them.  

            “Goodbye Y/N. I had fun today.” Angie wraps her tiny arms around you in a hug.

            “So did I Angie.” You return the hug.

            You bow to Lady Beneviento, “have a safe trip home Lady Beneviento.”

            Lady Beneviento bows her body back to you before she exits through the doorway and you click the doors shut. When you return to the main hall, Lady Dimitrescu is exiting the dining room, her eyes meet yours and you see the moment of fondness has disappeared.

            “Thank you for escorting Donna out, and thank you for making sure Angie did not cause too much damage. Judging from your….state, I would presume you are tired. You are dismissed for the evening.”

            “Thank you and goodnight my lady.” You say softly.

            “Goodnight Y/N.” She replies.

            After Lady Dimitrescu leaves, you start your journey back to your chambers near the Hall of Ablution. When you arrive inside your buzzing friend can be heard in the distance, it seems your friend has returned for another game of hide and seek. You are exhausted but the thrill of finding the fly gives you a spurt of energy and you start to search high and low. Underneath your bed, along the ceiling, even in your bathroom without finding a trace of the bug but continue to hear it. Only when you were certain you have searched the entire room did you release a pent up chuckle, place your hands on your hips, walk over to your nightstand and open the drawer. The fly comes out, buzzes around your head then slips underneath the door.  

            After the day you had nothing seems better than a nice warm bath; you fill the tub with boiling water and soak until it runs cold then finish your bedtime routine. As you drift into sleep, the door creaks open and close but you can’t hear any footsteps, only a very low droning. You smile with your eyes closed as the bed sinks down behind you and arms engulf you in a cold embrace.

Continue Reading

[adell032]

Lover Boy Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Warnings: None Prompt: The team meets the girl Rossi and Hotch saved a few years back, little do they know she's Spencers childhood friend (I hate using Y/N so I'm giving her a random name) -------------

"Rossi I'm telling you, I will be fine, I'll have you and Hotch by my side, I can handle the BAU."

"It's not you I'm worried about kiddo, we've already got one genius on the team, now we'll have two!"

You laughed at Rossi, knowing he was just trying to calm both of you down, it was your first day officially working for the BAU, alongside the two men who had saved you 8 years ago. "Audrey, remember, if at any point it feels like too much you can step out, Hotch and I will be right here." "I'm not a little 16 year old anymore, old man, I'm 24, I can do this." "I know you can."

Rossi opened the doors for you, letting you walk in first, Aaron had gave you your credentials and gun yesterday, the rest of the team were at home on their day off, but he had dragged you in to do introductory paperwork. The whole team were waiting for you and Rossi, as you could see them through the glass window, all their backs turned so they couldn't see you, though it looked as if Hotch was giving them a scolding, "he's probably just telling them to be nice, don't worry." Rossi messed your hair up, and you rushed to fix it as Prentiss turned around, quickly tapping JJ on the shoulder as you pushed the door open. The rest of the team turned to you, but you could only focus on one face, "Spencer?"

"You know Spencer?" "You know Audrey?"

The boy genius stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing like a fish before he finally found the courage to speak, "what are you doing here?" His voice cracked as you slowly walked towards him, watching in confusion as he took a step back when you reached out to him, "Spence?"

"I- I can't do this right now." He turned away from you, speeding towards his desk and burying his head in the first book he grabbed, you looked to Rossi, "you didn't tell me he worked here."

"We didn't know that you two knew each other."

"I grew up in Vegas, we went to the same school until he went to college at 14 and I, well you know." Hotch and Rossi nodded, "just give him some time, kiddo." Rossi patted your shoulder, walking off to his own desk as the rest of the team crowded around you.

"I'm Emily, this is JJ, Morgan, and Garcia." Emily pointed to everyone as she said their names, your gaze stopping on Garcia, admiring her clothes, she shrunk back under your stare, "she's so intimidating for a short person." She whispered to Morgan, not very quietly as you had heard her, "sorry, I love your dress, where'd you get it?"

Garcia copied your excitement, "I bought it at this little store in the city, I love your dress, you look like a barbie doll!" You were wearing a long pink dress, pink flats, a white bag and a white blazer, you looked like the lawyer version of barbie if her hair was black. "Thanks! Haley bought me this dress for Christmas, said it suited me perfectly."

"You've met Haley?"

"And Jack," you nodded your head at Morgan, "I spend Christmas and my Birthday with them and Rossi."

"Do you not spend it with your family?"

"My family aren't exactly alive, Morgan. Well except my brother, but we haven't seen him in 7 years really, not since Hotch and Rossi found us. It's weird really, one second he was in our hotel room and the next he was gone, haven't heard from him since." You rambled as you stared at Reid, he looked so much different now, his hair was curly, he no longer wore glasses, he was a lot taller, he was hot.

"Pretty Boy will get over whatever that was soon, I promise."

"Well when your childhood friend who went missing 10 years ago shows up at your workplace, you'd usually be happy they're at least not dead." You mumbled, pushing past the team to walk over to Spencer, staring down at him as he continued ignoring you. "Can we talk?"

Spencer didn't even look up, instead he flipped the page of his book, aggressively, "I know it's weird for me to just show up here Spence, but please." He let out a sigh, putting his book down, "we can talk at the round table."

He walked you to another room, taking a seat at the round table, you left a few empty seats between you, "I didn't just leave, Spence, I promise. I didn't just stop responding to your letters."

"Then what the hell happened Audrey? Because last time I checked friends don't ignore each other."

"My parents were killed, Spence. And whoever did it kidnapped Lucas and I for two years, Rossi and Hotch found us 8 years ago, I wanted to reconnect with you I really did, but for my own safety the BAU brought me here."

Reid looked at you in shock, his face full of guilt, "Audrey.."

"That's not all, Lucas left the hotel room we were staying in 7 years ago and he hasn't come back Spence. None of us have seen, or heard anything, I was staying with either Hotch or Rossi for at least 3 years before I moved out after finishing college. I truly did try to find you, but I guess all I had to do was ask the people I was living with, I'm truly sorry."

Spence stood up from his seat, "and they still haven't caught the guy who did this? He's still out there?" You nodded your head, "I'm sorry for assuming, I shouldn't have, fuck." Reid tripped over a chair leg as he tried to walk towards you, falling on his back with a loud bang, "fuck!"

You let out a laugh, "it's nice to know you're still the same Klutz you were 10 years ago," you walked towards Reid, offering him a hand, he grabbed your hand, acting as if he was pulling himself up before pulling you down on top of him, the two of you face to face.

"Reid?" You whispered, staring at his lips as he licked them,

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Before he could answer, Reid's hand made its way to your head, pulling you towards him, your lips connecting in a sweet kiss. It was like you were made for eachother, the way your lips moved together slowly, the kiss getting more and more eager as Spencer slowly sat up, his hand on your waist to steady you.

The room was dark, but the light coming from the door opening startled you both apart, Morgan stood in the doorway, "yeah pretty boy, get it on!" He laughed, wincing when Emily slapped his head, grabbing the door and slowly closing it.

You and Spencer looked away from the door staring at each other in silence for a moment before bursting out laughing, hearing Morgan shouting for Hotch outside the door.

You both were smart enough to stand up, sitting two chairs apart as Hotch and Rossi slammed the door open, "everything alright in here?" Rossi asked slowly as Hotch stared at your faces.

"Yep, just catching up on the last ten years."

"Okay.." The two of the slowly closed the door, and you and Reid listened for the sound of receding footsteps before looking at each other again, laughing quietly when you heard Morgan shouting, "they were making out on top of each other!"

"They said they were catching up, Morgan." You heard Hotch scold him. "Don't believe me? Check the cameras!"

Your face turned red as you stared at the camera in the corner of the room, Reid following your gaze, "we're fucked."

[nancypullen]

Where Was I?

It’s been a busy few days, where did I leave you? I think we were stuffing our faces with Valentine food.  I’ve been on a celery and salad kick since then - my arteries need scrubbing.  Since then we’ve made more progress on the kitchen (hardware added, sink and faucet ordered, quartz counters ordered) and I love it more every day.   Here’s the hardware -

They’re a warm, oil-rubbed bronze finish and Mickey made short work of attaching them to 28 cupboards and drawers.  My hero.  That’s why you see a glimpse of his shop vac in the second photo - he even sucked up sawdust from his drill as he worked.  His mama trained him right.   We finally chose and ordered our countertops. I spent a long time shuffling and staring at samples.

I thought I’d be more of a fan of the sort of soapstone sample - the rectangular, dark tile that’s middle left.  Maybe I should have waited until we had the hardware on and viewed hem that way. Nah, I knew that I was getting the right vibe from some of the beige pieces.  I zeroed in on one that is a few shades darker than the cabinets, but in the same family. Not too cool, not too warm, has a soft, creamy feel, that sort of thing.  

I didn’t like the really busy samples at all.  The darker options seemed too harsh in the open concept (I hate that phrase) floor plan we have. Beige worked best, but some were too light, some were too gray, and the sample named Taj Royale was baby bear’s chair - just right.

Our installation date is March 10th and I can’t wait.  Hallelujah! In even better news, Matt arrived yesterday!  He came home to spend his birthday week with us and it’s already been fun. Tomorrow he’ll be 38 and there’s absolutely no way I can have a child that old. NO way. How did that happen?? Obviously, I was a child bride. When Matt and I are together something weird usually happens.  We’re both freak magnets, and we thoroughly enjoy that.  Today we went out and about on a couple of errands but it was all very ordinary. Bummer.  We’ll try again tomorrow.

One of the stops that we made today was at an auction house.  There’s a company in Denton that deals in estate sales and that sort of thing and they have an auction every week.  During the pandemic everything went online and they’ve never gone back to hosting live auctions.  They post a catalog of items every Sunday and customers have all week to scroll through it.  On Saturdays and Sundays they throw open the doors so you can inspect the goods, and bidding ends on Monday, with auctions closing every few seconds.  We have lost our ever-loving minds over this stuff.  Last week we picked up two Cracker Barrel rocking chairs for less than the price of one.  Score!  I bought a gorgeous large mirror to start a makeover of the downstairs powder room...and only paid four dollars for it. The cheapskate in me is quivering with delight.

Here’s the mirror, stashed in the garage.  You can see the rockers too!

Don’t judge that corner of the garage. It’s a work in progress.

I’ve picked up batches of gorgeous picture frames for a few dollars. Mickey won the bid for a beautiful Longaberger storage basket with a wooden lid that is currently storing vinyl and paper in my craft room. It’s so nice. We turned Tyler and Jamie on to the auction sit and they’ve made a couple of fabulous purchases.  Yesterday’s auction had some wonderful patio furniture that I wish I had a need for - and it went cheap.  We did get these great wicker trunks for the master closet, perfect for keeping things tidy.

They’re in excellent condition and you know I love pretty storage.  I couldn’t resist this adorable baby doll cradle.

It rocks perfectly.  I’ll clean it up and make it sweet for the grandgirl to tuck her baby into. You know there will be rosebuds and lace involved. One of the items that Jamie purchased was an exceptionally nice faux plant. She’d been shopping for one for their home office, and as you know they’re ridiculously pricey.  I sent her pics from the auction house of three different plants and this was the winner.

She won it at just over the five dollar mark.  She’ll fluff it up and put it in a pretty pot and she’s saved herself about a hundred bucks. I’m giddy over the bargains.

Mickey purchased this thing.

He says it’s a saw, and that giant rolling case has some saw-related paraphernalia in it.   He’s looking toward retirement and thinking of making frames (for his millions of photos) and doing a bit of woodworking like his dad did.  I’ve shared a few of the purchases the Pullen family made, and left out a bunch of odds and ends that were smaller. A wooden desk organizer, vintage bowls, etc.  Mickey was working today and the Edgewaters are over the bridge doing the same, so I told everyone that I’d be happy to pick up all of the winnings.  I love doing it and it makes me look like a big spender.  BUT...I forgot that our SUV is in the shop (that’s another story) and we have a rental.  A little sedan with a trunk just about the size of that doll cradle.  Matt said he’d come with me to help load up and I warned him that I might have to make three trips.  Those big wicker trunks, that enormous saw and case, the large plant, the cradle, the odds and ends...oh dear.  Luckily, I raised kids in the generation that played countless video games and Matt’s Tetris skills kicked in.  We filled every nook and cranny of that little car and got it all home.

It wasn’t purty but we got ‘er done. Now I’ve got to wrap this up and get dinner on the table.  I started a pork loin in the crockpot about 11am and I’ve got taters and green beans to roast. I’ll add a balsamic glaze to the pork loin and serve it all to these hungry boys.  Later I’ll sneak upstairs and wrap the last couple of gifts for the birthday boy and tomorrow we will celebrate him. Sounds like a recipe for a wonderful day. I hope you’ve got something on the calendar to look forward to - anticipation is half the fun.  If not, put something on the calendar - “treat myself to a facial” or “picnic in the park”.  Oh gosh, stretching out on a blanket with a good book after a picnic lunch sounds like something I need to schedule.  Choose something you’d enjoy and make it happen.  Life is short, might as well make it sweet. Sending out love, grab some if you need it. Stay safe, stay well.

Nancy P.S. I typed this super fast, I’m sure I’ll look at it later and cringe over the typos. Have mercy.

[shallowseeker]

sam can feel his chest heaving, and distantly, the respectable sam part of his brain whispers that he’s maybe-probably overreacting—

—and he’s possibly taking it out on cas.

cas is watching him warily, both hands on the broom more like how you’d brandish a katana than sweep.

sam barrels on: “i mean i’m fuckin bleeding here and you could help with the garbage just once, as a favor since you don’t even sleep, but no, you’re busy making coffee.”

cas’s eyes track down till they find the ripped pants leg. he looks surprised, maybe more because sam’s actually complaining over a skinned knee than the sight of blood. but just as cas opens his mouth to speak, dean seems to materialize out of the bunker wall.

“hey. you’re the one that decided to exercise. don’t take out your shit on cas.”

and sam’s had it.

“oh please. like you don’t take out your shit on cas every day.”

that sends dean’s ears to the frying pan. they’re so red that sam can almost hear them sizzle. dean continues to sputter—total tailspin—stalling engine.

“w-well! you didn’t take out the garbage—”

“i told you, i’d do it after my run, dean.”

“oh, after your run-”

“yeah. after. my. run.”

dean’s mouth works soundlessly.

stupid asshole.

sam continues, “it’s always chop-chop, like you expect me to do it as soon as it crosses your mind—”

dean tries to recover. “it’s not that. you always say you’ll do it, but it’s always ‘after i grab a shower—’”

“—the shower is part of the run—”

“—and when it’s not that, it’s ‘after you read this book,’ or ‘after you file a dozen books in your fancy system!’”

there’s a small rustling, then a clinking.

“—the lore needs to be digitized. Dean.”

“—and you do it for hours at a time. Sam. Yet somehow the garbage just sits there.”

“—maybe you should stop expecting everyone to jump when you say jump! garbage pickup’s not till 9 and if you quit barraging me, i’d have had it done already!”

something heavy and dangerous settles in the kitchen. dean ducks his head, mustering a quiet anger.

“yesterday.”

“what?”

“you got yer stupid chore sheets hanging everywhere all dolled up with colored gel pens but you don’t even know. garbage day. was. yesterday.”

sam’s stomach drops out. shit.

“know why you dont know, sam? guess why you don’t know.”

dean’s voice is low. lethal.

“cause you never get around to fucking doing it. I do if 99% of the time.”

crap.

it’s silent except for the hiss—a steady stream of hot coffee in the background.

sam’s tightens his jaw. “i’ll take it into town. they’ve got dumpsters. i’ll do it right now. ok? just—i’ll just—”

but when sam turns to get them, the garbage bags are gone.

dean asked sam to do some basic bunker chores

and like

sam immediately found some hyper-organized PDFs online, printed them out, and proceeded to makes schedules so it’s all planned out

then he keeps “forgetting” to do them

and like

sam loves to organize books and sort case files, but taking the garbage out?

he “forgets” every time

[luveline]

in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

-

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

[jobean12-blog]

Good morning, Jo! So as you know I had a haircut yesterday and now I'm feeling like a brand new confident me 🥰. Which got me thinking of a reader who's always shy around an equally shy Bucky (or Sam!). With the power of a new haircut she walks up to the man of her dreams and asks him out and he loves it ❤.

Walkin' on Sunshine

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Word Count: 566

Summary: You've got yourself a new do and you feel good, you look good and you're ready to ask the man of your dreams out.

Author's Note: Thank you so much my sweet Mina @lookiamtrying Thank you for this lovely request and for your patience with me writing it! I love it and I know this feeling, it's awesome! I hope you enjoy this! Love you! Thank you all so much for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf

Warnings: fluffs and laughs and lots of smiles and slightly shy!bucky

Gifs not mine: Credit for the first two go to @bisexual-apocalypse and the third to @fishragnarsson Thank you so much :)

“When are you gonna ask her out man? It’s clear she likes you!” Sam prods as he and Bucky work on the boat.

“What makes you say that? Every time I talk to her I’m stumbling over my words and totally fucking up,” Bucky replies.

Sam grunts as he tries to pull a piece of rusty metal off the boat, his efforts doing little to move it. Bucky stands and walks over, taking the piece in his left hand and ripping it off with ease. Sam gives him the stink eye but mumbles a “thanks.”

Bucky smiles.

“It’s really entertaining that’s for sure and I can’t believe it either but I’m sure she likes you,” Sam continues with his own smirk.

Bucky sits down on the edge of the boat, mindlessly flipping the wrench in his hand as he contemplates Sam’s words.

“What if I ask her out and she says no? Huh? Then what?” Bucky asks with raised brows.

“Then at least you tried! What else are you gonna do? Hang out with me all day on the boat? I don’t think so,” Sam laughs.

Bucky hangs his head and grumbles something inaudible. Sam’s laughter gets louder before he elbows Bucky in the shoulder.

“Come on, let’s get back to work!”

You walk down the dock with an extra pep in your step, the warm sunshine dancing across the lake and making it sparkle. With a smile you spot Sam and Bucky on the boat, Bucky’s metal arm sparkling just like the water in the sun.

Sam sees you first and stops mid hammer. “Wow.”

Bucky looks at Sam.

“Do you need help hammering now?” Bucky teases.

Sam doesn’t answer and just keeps staring in your direction. Bucky finally turns around and his mouth drops open as you get closer.

“You can say that again,” he says only loud enough for Sam to hear.

“Look at you,” Sam says when you get to the boat.

“Hey guys!” you chime, waving to them.

Sam says hi and gives you a dazzling smile. “Love the new look.”

“Thanks Sam,” you answer sweetly.

Bucky just stares. You smile his way.

“Hi Buck.”

He keeps staring. Sam stabs him with the hammer.

“Hey doll,” he finally says. “You uh, wow. You look…I love it. Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you giggle. “So how much longer are you guys working?”

“I’m not working,” Bucky says as he stands and pushes the screwdriver toward Sam.

Sam quirks a brow and leaves Bucky hanging. Bucky pulls his eyes away from you long enough to scowl at Sam and put the screwdriver away.

“Ok great. Want to go grab a bite to eat?” you ask. “I’m starving.”

“I’d love to,” Bucky answers quickly, wiping his hands on a rag.

“Oh, I see how it is Buck. Beautiful woman shows up and you’re gone,” Sam jokes.

Bucky rubs the back of his head and shuffles his feet. “Well. Yeah.”

You throw your head back with laughter, winking at your friend Sam and holding your hand out for Bucky.

“Come on Buck. I get hangry when I’m hungry.”

He takes your hand and steps off the boat, bravely keeping his hold on it as you walk back down the dock.

“I’m always hangry,” Bucky laughs, squeezing your hand.

You giggle and squeeze back.

“Actually, I take that back,” he starts. “Right now…I’m just happy…and a little hungry.”

[satan-is-a-furry]

I awoke to a loud thumping noise. It was so dark I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. Thump. What was that? My doorknob rattled and opened very slowly, almost at a turtle's pace. I opened the blind next to my bed, unleashing the moonlight's illuminating presence. The door to my room was open, and something silver glinted in the darkness. I squinted my eyes, hoping to spot something. At that moment the glint moved. It was moving towards me. I reached over to the lamp and pulled the string down, brightly illuminating the room. A huddled mass was revealed: it was Noah. In his hand he clutched a Phillips-head screwdriver. His eyes opened, like two giant almonds. He darted out of the room and into the dark hallway. He dropped something. It was Pooh. Enough's enough, I'm keeping the doll in here from now on. I sat the yellow bear on my nightstand under the lamp. God, Noah has destroyed the little bear.

Noah bugged me and bugged me asking where the bear was, and I always replied, "Pooh went back to the hundred-acre woods to visit his friends." Weeks went by and Noah's health was improving dramatically. He gained his weight back, the bags under his eyes were going away, and he started eating again. He even starting telling me he loved me at night before bed.

I lay on my bed looking over the worn doll. I even picked it up and tossed it back and forth in my hands for a while. I like how this doll feels. Despite its aging, the doll was still as fuzzy as ever. I started putting the doll into my bag before work. On lunch-breaks I pulled the doll out and stroked its head. I quickly shoved it back into my bag when a coworker would walk by. Eventually, I stopped going to work. I need more time with Pooh. I spent my days clutching the weathered doll in my hands, caressing it, and taking care of it. I love you Pooh.

"Dad, there's nothing to eat!" Noah would moan.

Stupid kid. He's interfering with my time with Pooh. "Can't you see I'm busy you little cretin?!" Noah would hang his head and scurry back to his room. He doesn't know Pooh. He doesn't know the time needed for you. I started confiscating his V.H.S collection of Winnie the Pooh, bringing them to my room so I could watch all day, and all night. I stopped sleeping. If I slept, Pooh would be angry. I don't want him to be angry. I hadn't even gotten up to relieve myself. My room was blanketed in the putrid smell of feces and urine. I don't care. As long as Pooh is happy.

Noah eventually left, but I can't exactly remember when. Was it yesterday? Was it weeks ago? Good riddance, I'm free of him for good. Eventually, my electricity went out; I hadn't paid the bill in months. I'd gone from a 180lb man to a tiny 100lb man. As long as Pooh loves me I don't care. I was forced to eat bugs and rats that unfortunately scurried across my path. The paint on the walls started to peel, and mold covered the ceiling. I don't care. I do it for Pooh. He needs my time more than I do.

Much time has passed and I haven't been in great shape. I think I'm dying. I can't die, Pooh doesn't want me to die. My beard and unkempt hair reach below my chest, my clothes are in tatters, and my fingernails have grown unreasonably long. I sing to myself occasionally to please Pooh. Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh, tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff, he's Winnie the Pooh, Winnie the Pooh, willy nilly silly old bear...

There is a knock at the door. People have knocked before but this knock was persistent. It was hard but I got up and stood. I looked through the peephole and a man in his late twenties was outside. He knocked again. He shouted something:

"Dad? Are you in there?..."

Lemme grab that Winnie the Pooh """creepy""pasta real quick

[cloudteawrites]

chapter: five ( 4.7k ) rating: mature (death, past abuse, eventual smut) genre: mystery | romance | hurt/comfort tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly summary: when an estranged uncle leaves you his massive fortune you wonder if the universe is playing a joke on you. when that fortune comes with seven hybrids, you know for sure that it is. << first < previous | next > last >>

The grocery store was a mess of color and light. You swore you’d never seen so much food in one place. 

Back when your mom had been alive, you’d never really gone to traditional grocery stores. You’d always just visited markets where your mom knew the vendors and could talk down their prices on ugly produce and day old bread. After she’d died, you’d eaten whatever the staff in the group home had provided, then whatever you could scrounge up from convenience stores. Most of the time since you’d aged out of social services, you survived off the free rice and kimchi available in your goshiwon. 

Occasionally, you’d eat at work with your free staff meal, but you tried to avoid it. You knew the sight of you wolfing down ramyeon and cold kimbap as fast as you could made Jiah worry. If she ever saw you looking too haggard, she’d try to slip some home made meals to the front desk of your goshiwon when you weren’t looking and that was as embarrassing as it was helpful. 

For as long as you could remember, the question of where your next meal was coming from had hung over your head like a dark cloud. It didn’t seem like that was going to be a problem any longer. 

Aisle after aisle stretched out before you, blindingly bright. It looked like an amusement park. You were finding it hard to stop staring. You reached out in a haze and picked up the juiciest apple you’d ever seen. Sure, you sold them all the time at Quickstop, but they’d always been dull and just the slightest bit bruised. This one was perfect: fire engine red and still wet from the mister. It was cold and heavy in your hands. You almost felt like crying.

“You good?” Yoongi is beside you, leaning over on the shopping cart, his chin in his hand. He looks dreadfully bored. 

“Yeah,” you tell him, setting the apple gently back in its place. “Yeah; just got distracted for a second.” You give a single tug on the front of the basket to move him along, and he follows, shuffling against the bright white linoleum. 

“Why aren’t you getting that?” He calls, just before you can round the corner into the dry goods aisle. You turn and look at him over your shoulder, confusion slightly furrowing your brow. “Don’t you want it?”

Your eyes flick from his face back to the glittering heap of fruit. You gnaw at your lip. “...They’re 6,000 won a kilo.”

Yoongi purses his lips. “That’s not what I asked you.” 

“I don’t need them,” you huff, trying to stave off the beginnings of another argument. “There’s more important things...like you three and getting you clothes and better furniture and-” Before you get the chance to finish, the gray haired man has ducked back around the corner. He returns with two three kilo bags of apples and dumps them unceremoniously into the cart. 

He looks up at you, brows raised and his eyes daring you to say something. All you do is sigh. “Yoongi-”

“Jimin likes apples.” He says, before you can get a word in edgewise. “They’re for him.” You can’t argue with that. He pushes the basket forward and you two drift down the next aisle. 

There’s a question resting on the tip of your tongue and as you compare brands of rice, you spit it out. “So...what do you guys eat? I read an article that said to mainly feed cat hybrids fish, but...”

“But we’re not house cats.” He finishes, flipping over a box of cereal to read the back. His nose wrinkles at something he finds and he slides it back onto the shelf. It’s cute, you think- or would be if you couldn’t see the tips of his razor sharp incisors poking out when his lip curled up. Yoongi senses your gaze and looks over at you. You look away quickly and make yourself busy reading a label. “We can eat pretty much anything you’d eat. Not too much processed shit or we’ll get sick. Whole foods are better.”

You nod, making a mental note to forego sodas and chips. “And when you’re shifted?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t really eat when we’re shifted down unless we plan on staying there for a long time.” 

You choose a 10 kilo bag of rice, tug it out from the shelf with a little grunt and plop it onto the basket’s bottom shelf. That was good, you supposed. You were worried you were gonna have to watch three big cats rip into raw meat whenever it caught their fancy.  “Why don’t I push the basket and you can pick out things Taehyung and Jimin would want?”

He nods and shifts to the other side of the aisle. “What’s my limit?”

You pause for a moment, then stand and fix him with a strange look. “What do you mean?” He isn’t looking at you. He’s comparing two brands of cereal, scanning the nutritional facts on the back. 

“How much am I allowed to spend on food?” he questions, simply. “-and what foods are we allowed to eat?”

You balked at him. “.. .you want me to control your diet?”

“I don’t want you to, but most owners prefer a certain look.” He turns his flat, yellow-grey eyes on you. “So what is it? No carbs? no sugars? Low fat? No fat? Dairy-free-”

“Oh my God, no!” You yelp before he can list any more diets. You’d said it a little louder than you’d intended and a well-dressed mom at the other end of the aisle fixes you two with an odd look before hustling her twins into another part of the store. You wince, but continue in a quieter but no less urgent voice. “I mean, I’m not gonna tell you what you can and can’t eat that’s…” 

“It’s not unusual,” Yoongi cuts in before you can give voice to your thoughts. He sets one of the cereal boxes, decorated with bright colors and little cartoon animals, back on the shelf and tosses the other -something in a dull green and white box with a little piece of wheat on the front- into the cart. “You didn’t feed us last night.”

A pang of guilt shoots through you. You curl your fingers around the bar of the cart, stare at your knuckles. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, with all the sincerity in the world. “I was tired -and I know that’s not an excuse- but I fell asleep without thinking of you guys. It won’t happen again.” 

“Relax,” Yoongi drawls.”It’s not the first time we’ve gone hungry; I’m sure it won’t be the last.” He starts drifting toward the end of the aisle, but before he can go, you catch him by the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 

There’s barely an inch of fabric between your thumb and forefinger, but the look Yoongi gives you makes it look like you’d yanked him back by the collar. He whirls on you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into something sour. You’d overstepped by grabbing him. Still, you speak. “That was the last time. I mean it.” 

The hybrid’s face shifts from irritation into something unrecognizable. He’s looking at you like there’s an equation written behind your eyes that he’s trying to work out with his own, like if he looks deep enough into them he’ll find the answers etched across your sclera. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as the seconds drag on, but you don’t look away. Instead, you hold his gaze and let the moment swell under almost unbearable tension.

Yoongi gives first. He tugs his sleeve out of your grip and shuffles back out of reach. “Whatever you say,” he scoffs, stalking off into the next aisle, his ears tilted back and tail tip flicking in irritation. 

You sigh. You’d done it again. The urge to catch him again wells up in you, but you tamp it down. ‘Time and space,’ you remind yourself. ‘Give him time and give him space.’ Satisfied once the distance between the two of you is enough, you go to follow after him, but hesitate as you pass the cereal he’d been looking at. You tug it off the shelf and place it in the basket underneath a few other things so it’d be hidden. You don’t know why and if he asked you about it later you were sure you’d draw a blank. If nothing else, you told yourself as you hurried to catch up with your hybrid, he’d have a choice.

The rest of the grocery trip passed in silence, just as it’d begun. Yoongi didn’t so much as look at you, but that was fine. You were focused on watching him. Anything that he gave more than a passing glance went into the basket. If the bobcat hybrid noticed your rapidly increasing haul, he didn’t say anything about it. He was silent.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Even when you flinched as the cashier announced the total and you waffled between trying to walk home or calling a taxi. Even in the lobby then the elevator on the way up as Mr. Park talked both of your ears off and you had to stop him from carrying your groceries in and stocking the fridge himself, Yoongi had remained eerily quiet. It’d given you time to think. 

You didn’t know much about hybrids. If you were honest with yourself, you hadn’t known anything about them prior to what you’d anxiety-googled yesterday afternoon. You were so far out of your depth, it was miracle you hadn’t drowned yet. Still, you weren’t completely oblivious.

In between Yoongi’s open hostility, Jimin’s blase attitude toward his own objectification and what snippets you’d heard about Taehyung’s early life, you knew something must’ve been very, very wrong with the people who’d had them before they’d been foisted upon you. The expectation that you were supposed to treat hybrids like actual pets made you uncomfortable enough without the assumption that you’d be dressing them up like dolls and locking the snack cabinets at night. 

A spike of anger shot through you. They might’ve been different than humans but they were still people. They hadn’t deserved whatever shady things their owners had done to them and you didn’t want them to come to expect them from you. You shift the grocery bags up your arm, freeing up a hand so you can punch the code into the door. There was no way around it. The four of you would need to sit down and have a good long talk. 

The second you punch the code into your door it swings open. “Hey, Jim-” the greeting dies on your tongue. It’s not Jimin who meets you at the door, but Taehyung, freshly showered, the curly ends of his hair dripping water onto the white tile and the front of his sweatshirt damp. His eyes were still hidden behind his hair but you could see more of him than you’d been able to that morning when he’d shifted. 

Well, not more of him. He was wearing clothes now, for one- a dark brown version of the sweat suit Yoongi and Jimin both wore. He was taller than you, which you’d known when he’d wrapped his arms around you, but looking up at him now you have to tilt your head back a bit. “Oh,” you say, a little dazed. “Wow.”

The corners of his mouth quirk up in a smile. “Hi.” His voice is still as deep as it was this morning. Was it always like that? He turns his attention to the hybrid behind you and his lips part in a blindingly bright boxy grin. “Hi, hyung.”

Yoongi hums a hello and slips past you through the door. His shoulder brushes against Taehyung’s and the younger hybrid chuffs happily a little in his throat. He leans down as the older man passes and bumps their foreheads together affectionately. Their tails twine together briefly before the gray-haired hybrid is out of reach and dropping an armful of groceries off in the kitchen. 

“You shifted up,” you remark “Did something happen?” There’s a tick of concern in his voice. You step to the side of the doorway so the pair can talk without you in the middle.

Taehyung shakes his head, water droplets scattering. His hyung let out a hiss that erred just on the wrong side of animalistic as some of them hit him. You freeze, but the tiger hybrid just laughs. “No, Jimin and I were just-” His smile falters. You can’t see his eyes but his ears have twitched downward and his tail is suddenly stiff, only the tip ticking back and forth. The hybrid lowers his head, and you finally catch sight of eyes, gleaming amber and full of fear. Behind him, you see Yoongi catch a whiff of his junior’s souring scent and his head whips toward the pair of you, ears straight up and his whole body on high alert. 

Worry draws your brows together. “Taehyung?” you call softly. You reach out with your free hand to touch his shoulder, then think better of it. Your fingers hover uselessly and inch away from him. In this moment, that distance feels a mile wide. The line of his shoulders is rigid and he’s withdrawn into himself. “Taehyung, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you-”

“We went out.” He blurts, snapping his head up to look in your eyes. His own are wide and earnest. “You left your backpack open and I saw the list you made with all the phone numbers and passwords and the door code was on there and I really wanted to go to the park. Jimin told me to wait but I made him come with me; we were only gone for fifteen minutes, I swear. We didn’t even make it; the same police officer from earlier was still on the street.” 

“Taehyung-”

“Please-” he cuts you off before you can even get a word in edgewise. “Please, just punish me; Jimin didn’t do anything. The whole time he was trying to make me go back. He only went with me so I wouldn’t be alone.” 

Your heart wrenches in your chest. You do touch him, then. Your fingertips barely graze the material of his sweatshirt, but he flinches and you pull away. Your hand drops to your side, limp. “Can you and Jimin meet me in the living room?” You ask him, careful to keep your tone light and non-threatening as possible. “We need to talk.” His ears droop, but he nods and shuffles off to do as you ask. You trail behind him into the penthouse, making sure to give him enough space. The last thing you wanted to do right now was crowd him.

You drop the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and look up to find Yoongi squinting at you. He’s coiled up like a spring, ready to bolt at any moment. You try to give him a reassuring smile, but it comes out watery and wan. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “We’re just gonna talk.” You can tell he doesn’t believe you. 

Still, he follows you into the living room, takes a seat on the couch while you settle cross-legged on the ottoman across from him. A few seconds later, Jimin and Taehyung slink down the stairs. The tiger hybrid is clinging to his hyung who, for once, isn't smiling. Jimin’s face is settled into a cool mask of neutrality. You almost don’t recognize him. 

They sink into the couch on either side of Yoongi, their backs stiff and eyes on anything other than you. For a moment, the four of you sit there in uncomfortable silence. You speak first. 

“Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi-”

“Y/N,” Jimin cuts in, “Whatever Taehyung told you-”

“-I’m sorry.” You finish. That seems to surprise them. You interlock your fingers on your lap and look at each one of them individually. “I’m sorry that I didn’t check to see if there was food in the house last night. I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you had the things you needed to feel comfortable here. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t allowed to leave.” 

Taehyung swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He’s got a death grip on Yoongi’s arm with one hand and the other fisted in the fabric of his sweatpants. “You...You’re not mad?” The tremor in his voice makes your heart ache. 

“No,” you tell him with all the sincerity in the world. “I’m not mad at you. I’m sad that you were ever around someone who made you feel like you needed to apologize for wanting to see the sun and I’m angry that they made you think that was something to be punished for.” It was true. Beneath your sadness, beneath your shock at his expectation of punishment, anger was twisting in your gut. What type of person would reduce another to fear and trembling for the sake of leaving the house? “I’m not going to...to punish you, I need you to know that.” You tell him, before looking at Jimin and Yoongi. “Any of you. Ever. I’m never gonna hurt you.” 

Taehyung’s jaw is clenched like he’s trying not to cry. All the wind has gone out of Jimin like a deflated sail and the leopard hybrid just looks exhausted. Yoongi’s rubbing soothing circles in both of their backs. You can’t tell from his face, but by the way his ears have relaxed, you think he was worried about your reaction, too. 

You let out a little exhale and slouch. “Whatever happened to you with your previous...the people you lived with before? It wasn’t okay.”  You’re as firm with it as you can be while still keeping your tone gentle. “They were supposed to take care of you and love you and help you grow, but if they starved you, if they made you feel this bad, if they treated you like property, then fuck them. I don’t want to be anything like them.” You admit. “I don’t want to be your owner and I don’t want you to be my pets.”

“What do you want us to be to you then?” Yoongi rasps. Despite the question, there’s no challenge in his voice. He’s genuinely asking. 

One corner of your mouth quirks up and you give him a small shrug. “Friends, maybe? Eventually, if we can. For now let’s try…” you search for the word you want. “Roommates?” You supply. “We live together, but you guys don’t need to feel like you owe me anything. I’ll get you phones tomorrow, if you want, and copies of the credit card. We can get you clothes and furniture too. And if there’s anything you want to do or want to see, go see it. The door code is 0613.”

The tension that’d run between the three hybrids like a livewire is gone. Now they’re...if not relaxed, then at least relieved. There’s nothing else to be said. You stand and move to hurry into the kitchen so the trio of hybrids can have their space. The last thing you wanted to do after having a talk about their freedoms was crowd them. Before you can take three steps there’s a hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. It's Taehyung's. 

The tiger hybrid is looking up at you, his eyes beseeching and a nervous tremble in his bottom lip. “Don’t go,” he croaks, sounding like he’s still unsure just how to use his voice. He tugs once on your coat sleeve. “Please.”

Your eyes flick from him to his hyungs. Jimin’s looking at you with apprehension, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s a split second away from helping the tiger hybrid drag you down- but Yoongi’s face is turned away from you. As usual, you can’t tell what he’s feeling. “I’m just going to the kitchen,” you assure him. “I’ve gotta put the food away-” Your brain short circuits as the tiger hybrid flips your hand over and presses his face to your palm. His eyelashes brush against your lifeline; his lips trace the veins in your wrist. 

You’d never say it outloud, but it was hard to deny you were touch starved. You could count on one hand the amount of times someone had touched you gently since your mother died. You didn’t show yourself kindness most days and you’d come not to expect it from others. The world was cold and cruel, and you were far too old to be seeking solace from strangers. You’d thought you were above it, but the feeling of Taehyung nipping at your radial artery is almost enough to make you go to pieces. “Just a little bit,” he huffs, his voice muffled against your skin. 

“...The groceries will get warm,” you argue, finally managing to make your mouth move. “Do you wanna eat hot kimchi?” 

“I’ll put them away.” Yoongi is up and vaulting over the couch before you can get a word in edgewise. With him gone the last of your excuses goes up in smoke. Taehyung smiles against your skin and you let yourself be pulled down.

No sooner have your legs touched the cushion, then Taehyung is snuggled up against your side, his arms wrapped loosely around your middle and the cool tip of his nose pressed into your neck. “Tell me again,” he murmurs softly. “Can you tell me again that you’re not mad?” He wanted reassurance. The least you could do was give it to him.

You slip a hand into his hair, scratch gently at the base of his ears. He chuffs happily, the sound vibrating in his chest as he presses closer to you. “I’m not mad at you, and you’re not in trouble, buddy.” You tell him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

A warm presence on your left tells you Jimin’s settled in beside you. Sure enough, a second later a golden tail is tracing the edge of your calf. “Don’t leave me out,” he purrs, settling his chin on your shoulder.

You slide a hand into his hair too, letting the locks slip through your fingers as you pet him. “Never.”

The three of you stay like that for what feels like an hour. Even when their hyung finishes putting the groceries away and returns to sit with them -albeit at the far end of the sectional- they don’t seem like they’re in a hurry to disentangle themselves from you. You’re surprised to find you don’t mind it. The weight of two grown men against your shoulders was heavy, but not uncomfortable and they were warm and the steady hum of Jimin purring is almost enough to lull you to sleep. You cut a movie on and order samgyeopsal. You think they’re gonna kill the delivery man for making you get up, and they stay glued to your back even as you pay. It’s not until the first movie goes off and Taehyung and Jimin are playfully bickering over what to watch next that you’re able to slip away to the bathroom.

You shuffle quickly down the wide hallway, trying to remember which door the closest bathroom lay behind. You careen around a corner and run smack into someone. They let out a huff and you stumble back a few steps, an apology on your lips. You look up and find Yokngi there. Guilt bubbles up in your stomach. Between Jimin purring in your ear and Taehyung rubbing his cheek against your hand every ten seconds, you hadn’t even noticed he was gone. “Sorry,” you mumble. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “For what?”

You’re not even sure you know.

He stares at you and you stare back, frozen. Finally, the bobcat hybrid sighs and gestures at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You approach hesitantly, not trusting him to not suddenly snap at you. “Why?” You ask, apprehensive. Should you have not let Taehyung and Jimin scent you? He’d been around the entire time and hadn’t said anything, so you’d thought it was fine. Maybe you’d made a mistake. You gnaw at your bottom lip and creep slowly closer to the hybrid before you. Another miscalculation, another mess-up, another mile tacked on to that incalculable distance between you and Yoongi. Should you apologize again? Would taking a shower help wash their scents away?

Before you can volunteer to do any of that, Yoongi reaches forward, hooks one finger through your belt loop and drags you toward him. You feel a yelp crawling up your throat, but it’s stopped dead in its tracks by the feeling of Yoongi cradling your jaw and his lips pressed against the column of your throat. His spine is tense and his tail is ticking in the way it does when he’s irritated. “...What are you-?”

“They’ve both scented you.” He murmurs. “If I don’t, they’ll think I’m rejecting you. My job as their hyung is to put them at ease. If I can’t do that, I’m useless.” Despite his closeness, despite the way his fingers were slipping into the hair at the base of your skull, despite the little nips he’d started giving you, you could practically feel his reluctance.

You exhale and push against his shoulders. “Yoongi…” He doesn’t budge. “Hey-”

“There’s no good reason for me to not just mark you and get it over with.” There was that word again. You’d forgotten about it in the whirlwind that followed, but Jimin had joked about marking you earlier, hadn’t he? And Yoongi’d gotten upset with him. From what you were gathering, it was a lot more serious than scenting. 

“I don’t want you to.” That gets his attention. The hybrid pulls away and fixes you with an odd look, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about? Owners always want us to mark them.” You feel that same twinge of anger again. The articles had said scenting was a sign of trust and security. It was used to mark family members. Had the people they’d been with before forced their way into their family without the hybrids consent? Without Yoongi’s? No wonder he’d been touchy about his juniors scenting you right away.

“Well, I don’t.” You give him a gentle nudge and put a few inches between the two of you. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with or not ready for.” You offer him a smile you hope comes across as reassuring. “You not wanting to is a good enough reason for me. Besides,” you say, turning to head back to the living room, the original reason for your trip forgotten. “I’ve never been marked before, so it’s not like i’m missing out on anything.”

At that, something flashes in Yoongi’s eyes that you have no name for. It passes as soon as it’d come. “Come back when you’re ready!” You call over your shoulder, retreating back down the corridor before he can say something one way or another. 

When you settle back on to the couch two minutes later, There’s a movie queued up and ready to be played. It’s an action movie, one you haven’t seen before. “Yoongi’ll be back in a second,” you tell the boys. “Let’s wait for him.” 

Taehyung hums his ascent, leaning in to settle back in the crook of your neck- but something stops him. He hovers near your neck, takes a few short inhales and tosses a look at Jimin behind your back. You frown. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung responds a bit too quickly, lacing your fingers together to distract you as Jimin gives the other side of your neck the same treatment. The leopard hybrid purrs, seemingly happy at what he’s found. His ears swivel up and a second later, Yoongi slinks back into the living room. 

“Hyung…” Jimin starts, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

“Play the movie.” His hyung orders. He does, but there’s still a little smirk on his lips.

The screen darkens and the opening credits roll as Taehyung and Jimin settle back against your side, careful to avoid your neck. Yoongi drops onto the couch, this time only a foot away from the three of you. You allow yourself a little spark of relief. The distance was starting to close.

[thatonecoryosimp]

Intoxicating. Trapped in a New World-Chapter 3

Hello, my darlings! This chapter is late, and I'm so sorry for that. This is definitely not my best work ever, but I really wanted to get this out to you before I lost motivation. Speaking of, for my own mental health, I have decided to only update every other Wednesday. This will hopefully mean that my chapters will be higher quality since it'll give me more time to spell and grammar check after finishing them. Also, I'm happy to announce that my requests are open again! YAY!

Series Masterlist

Words: 1,074

7/14/22

The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon when I woke up. It casted a golden glow of light into the room. I sat up and stretched. My arms reached up as I tried to get used to the feeling of being in the waking world again. 

Dream was already awake, sitting on the couch with his nose stuck in a book. I’m not exactly sure how he can see while he wears that mask, there’s no visible cut outs where his eyes are. I pushed my curiosity aside and stood up with a start. 

Dream’s head snapped to my figure. 

“Do you want any breakfast before we start the day?” he asked as he marked the page he was on. 

“No. It feels weird to eat in the morning,” I answered with a smile as I walked over to him. 

He hummed and nodded. He patted the space next to him and scooched over to make room. I plopped down and sighed, leaning my head back against the sturdy wood. 

“When do you plan on going out?” 

“As soon as you feel like going, doll.” 

I smiled and nodded, choosing to ignore the name he used. 

“How do you see?” 

“Pardon?” 

“With the mask. How do you see?” 

“The eyes are made of special material, it’s opaque on the outside and clear on the inside.” 

“Interesting.” 

“Mhm.” 

It was about ten minutes later when I decided that I was tired of sitting around. 

“You ready to get started?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure Sapnap will be up by the time we’ll be back.” 

Dream stood up and walked over to the same chest as yesterday. He glanced around at the content for a second before pulling out two stone axes. He handed one to me and then jerked his head towards the door.  

I followed him outside as he took me to the nearby forest. The short walk was pretty quiet. It was pretty nice, actually. Walking around just past dawn was surprisingly relaxing. 

“So, I think one of the most important things for you to learn is how to cut trees. I know you could probably figure it out yourself, but I thought you would want some company.” 

I smiled and looked towards the thick mass of trees.  

“I mean,” I started as I tilted my head towards him with a smile, “two is better than one, right?” 

Dream had to walk me through how the ‘inventory’ system worked. None of us are exactly sure of the logistics of being able to store items in thin air and then select them when we need them, but it sure is useful so I can’t complain. 

The next few days were a complete blur. Filled to the brim with useful information that I had gathered in a small journal Dream had gifted me. By the end of the last day my muscles were exhausted and my mind wasn’t functioning in the way it probably should. 

Sapnap and George had gone on a mining exhibition that left Dream and me home alone. 

Dream sat across from me at the newly installed dining table. We had been brainstorming ideas for the new house that we wanted to build. Dream was mapping out a floor plan while I sat trying to pay attention.  

My mind was a static mess. It seemed I was only processing white noise. My shoulders were aching and my back felt like it was on fire. 

“Are you alright?” His voice had managed to cut through the void of my mind. He was right beside me, his hands on my shoulders, “You’ve been all weird and distant.” 

“I’m fine, just really sore.” 

His mask was pushed up just enough for me to see him smile. 

“Do you want a massage?” 

“God do I.” 

He stood up and walked over to the, now padded, couch. 

He sat a pillow on the floor between his legs and gestured for me to sit down. Once I had, his hands started running up and down my neck, getting a feel of the tenseness. 

The tips of his fingers ghosted to my shoulders before he firmly grabbed them. His thumbs pushed into my shoulder blades and started rubbing in smooth circular motions. His fingers were being pushed into my skin every so often as he rolled his hands with the movements of his thumbs. 

I leaned back into his touch as I sighed. It felt like his hands were working magic. 

“Is you back sore too?” 

I barely processed the words but still managed to nod. Suddenly, I was being pulled up. I let out a surprised yelp which elicited a chuckle from him. 

He bent over and grabbed the pillow from the floor and placing it on his legs. He pulled me down onto it. I gasped and grabbed his shoulders as he pulled me to his chest.  

“Calm down,” he muttered, lips barely brushing against my ear, “just relax, I’ve got you.” 

My face heated up so I elected to settling my head in his shoulder and hiding. I heard him chuckle before his hands started tracing up and down my back. His fingers gliding along my sides before tracing down my spine. 

His hands gently lifted the back of my shirt and started rubbing at the skin on my lower back. 

“I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I?” 

“No.” My voice was just barely above a whisper when I spoke.  

His hands continued to trace on the bare skin of my back, at one point he started running his nails up and down over and over again.  

I heard him start humming, his chest vibrating with the sound as he lulled me into a state of unconsciousness. My eyes had drifted shut, too heavy for me to keep them open. 

I swore I heard him say something under his breath but I couldn’t quite make it out, my mind too drowsy to make any form of cohesion.  

His touch was so intoxicating that it was worrisome, it made me want things I shouldn’t want, especially with a man I’ve only known for a week. But, if you had given me the option, I would’ve chosen to stay in this moment, with his hands on me, with no worry in the world. 

I slipped into darkness after a few more minutes, letting the warmth of sleep overtake me. 

~~~ 

“You look so pretty like this.” 

~~~

Hello, my lovelies! You look gorgeous, all of you! Nothing exciting has happened within the last little bit so I don't have much to say here.

Stay safe, and drink water. I love you!

~Jules <3

[buckystevelove]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMRPncAnM/ imagine idea

Drunk Mistakes

Pairing: Steve x Reader

Warning: ANGST

A/N: requests are open. You can also ask about my series or solicit headcanons.

You felt sorry, you really did. Things shouldn’t had gone that way.

The mission had went wrong, Steve had snapped at you. You truly didn’t deserved that. He told you you had made and sloppy job, that you should work better, trying harder, other wise you didn’t deserve your place among the Avengers. After that you went to Wanda’s room crying, she told you to get dress. You went to a bar, take off you mind for your problems for a while.

You took shots, danced a little, flirt a bit, a few hours later, other team members arrived, you looked for Steve put he was nowhere to be found. You wanted to talk to him, try to talk things out, yet he really made you feel awful.

A few more shots down, you sat next to Bucky.

He had always been flirty with you, some lingering glances, sweet words, you always brush it off as he was teasing Steve, in reality, he had a crush on you since the day he met you, but you were Steves girl.

Today, you decided to take you chance, you were already tipsy.

¨Hey Buck, you look increadibly handsome tonight.¨you said sitting next to him.

¨You look as beautiful as always doll¨ The rest of the night you flirted with him, the lead to returning to his room.

After you had sex, you felt awful, you felt so guilty, so did him. The two of you decided to never talk about that again.

You left his room early in the morning so no one would noticed.

Later that day Steve went to Bucky’s room to ask for an advise to apologize to you.

¨Hi buddy, yesterday I really messed up with YN, I talk to her horribly. I need to fix this, I can lose her, you have no idea of how much I love her.¨Steve sound desperate, this made Bucky feel even worst, yet, he couldn’t stop loving you.

¨Just tell her you are sorry, maybe get her some flowers and take her for dinner. I am sure she will forgive you, she loves you,¨ Said Bucky looking at the floor, he hated to push you closer to Steve, but he wanted his best friend to be happy, even more after the stupid mistake he had done last night.

¨Thank you pal, I really hope I can make things better,¨ he looked around Bucky’s room and noticed a red lipstick in his night stand. ¨You got lucky last night, I see.¨ He said gesturing to the lipstick.

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck

¨Yeah, some gal at the bar.¨

¨Well, good for you.¨He said giving him a pat in the back and leaving.

Lunch came around, you made up with Steve, feeling extremely guilty after what you had done, trying to get behind it.

Everyone was sitting in the table eating the pasta you had made, you were the one that cooked to the best on the team.

Steve was sitting next to you, his hand on your thigh, tracing small circles, Bucky was in front of him, Nat in front of you, the rest of the guys in the other seats.

¨YN, where did you left my red lipstick, yesterday I gave it to you.¨ she said nonchalantly.

¨Sorry Nat, I don’t remember, yesterday I was really drunk, I’ll buy you another one.¨

Steve removed his hand from your thigh, and looked at Bucky with fury in his eyes. You didn’t understand what was happening, you looked between the two of them.

Steves jaw clench, ¨So a girl at the bar…¨ You looked at Bucky with pleading eyes, he had tears in his.

¨You forget to mention it was… MY… GIRL.¨ You realize what was happening, Steve stranded up abruptly from his seat, knocking his chair.

You were now full out crying, ¨Steve, please, let me explain.¨ Everyone stopped their own conversations and were looking at the three of you.

¨Do..don’t…don’t even try it.¨ Tears we’re running down his checks.

¨Buddy, please.¨ By now Bucky was also trying to solve this, he couldn’t lose his long life best friend.

¨Don’t you ever talk to me again.¨ With that he left you there, sobbing.

You had ruined the best thing that ever happened to you.