#also sorry i’ve been away for so long i promise another price fic is coming soon
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dragonbe-writing · 2 years ago
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I already have something in the works I just don’t know if I should post it :) it would have a romance plot (maybe a couple) (i would also make an Ao3 specifically for this purpose)
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9tzuyu · 3 years ago
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four months.
note: hiiiii! just trying to get into the groove again. i dont know what this is. the original prompt is below, however it did not turn out that way?¿ its kind of a mess, but fluffy i suppose. i hope you enjoy :>.
using my own experience so don’t think i hate poor people because i am those people </3
(also chapter 4 of children of tragedy will be out soon, i promise. ive just had awful writers block.)
+ thank you moli for proofreading so i dont have to. i love you.
warnings: none?
prompt: * reader used to be poor and stuff and w/n is like “you know you don’t have to get the cheapest things” and R covers it up and says “oh this is the brand i like, but w/n discovers hidden receipts and asks why they have a bunch of useless receipt and R is like “i was just tracking how much we spend....”
🏷 @natasha-danvers @midnight-lestrange @whatiziz @kermy48 @mycosmicparadise @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (lmk if you want off the tag list because ik i dont post as regularly as other writers, so im just going with people who have told me they want to be on my tag list in the past)
and lastly, for my baby @nermalina. its not really your genre per se [ i have a smut fic that i’ll dt you on ;)] however, accept this as a form of love.
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it wasn’t so much that you were homeless and out on the streets, but you weren’t necessarily well off either. working as a waitress only got you far enough to pay your monthly rent and gas. somehow you managed to squeeze in a list of groceries.
every penny counted, you didn’t have room for mishaps or sick days. thats why you kept your budget small and a stash full of receipts on the kitchen bar.
natasha didn’t know about any of this though. you were sure she’d have you by the neck if she found out how long you’d been keeping your secret.
the redhead was generous, and no matter how many times you offered to pay for something she would never even dream of letting you. natasha insisted on it, and you were powerless to stop her.
it wasn’t until you tagged along with her on a trip to the grocery store when things began to unravel. she only needed a few things, nothing important.
but nat was quick to pick up on the fact that you continuously flipped every little thing you picked up to look at the price tag.
“here, it’s the cheapest one i could find.” you said, smiling as you handed her a cardboard box of pasta. natasha hummed, “you know you don’t have to get me the cheapest thing on the shelf.”
you bit your lip, eyes suddenly looking back at the shelf of different pasta boxes. “i know... it’s just- it’s my favorite brand.” natasha automatically knew you were lying by the way you began chewing on the inside of your lip.
she narrowed her eyes. “no it’s not.”
“huh?”
“you got this brand because it was the cheapest. you know i can afford more, which leads me to believe you do this out of habit.”
you shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze. “no, i just really like that brand.”
the sudden realization that she had never been to your place struck her.
“y/n?”
“yeah?”
“why don’t we go back to your apartment after this? we can just relax, watch a movie, do whatever you want.”
a mix of guilt and shame flooded your body. but damned if you didn’t still give it a try.
“my apartment’s a mess right now, you don’t want to see that.” you tried, offering a small, dry laugh in hopes of getting her off your back.
“you’re a terrible liar.”
“i’m not-”
“i picked you up from the park today, just like every other day. i’ve not once picked you up from your own apartment, so what are you hiding?”
when you didn’t give an answer, she tossed the cheapest box of pasta in her cart and walked away. you groaned as you watched natasha leave before catching up to her.
“okay, okay, we can go back to my apartment. just don’t judge me, alright?”
she smiled softly, “it wouldn’t even cross my mind.”
soon enough you began helping your girlfriend load her car with bags full of miscellaneous items. nothing needed to be refrigerated, so if natasha wanted to, she could stay at your apartment all day.
your leg bounced in the car as you gave her directions. but soon enough, after what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, natasha pulled into a parking space right outside your door.
you silently cursed yourself for not renting a spot upstairs. at least then it would’ve prolonged the situation just a little bit longer.
natasha watched as you fumbled with your keys, your hands visibly shaking.
“fuck.” you mumbled after hearing the clank of metal hit the ground. you bent down to pick them up but natasha beat you to it.
“which key?” her voice was soft.
“the yellow one.”
the door swung open and you motioned for natasha to go before you.
it wasn’t bad, really. apart from the chipped brown walls, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke (you hated your neighbors for that), the broken windows, lack of space and furniture that was as good as the floor.
natasha noticed the windows first, a sense of protectiveness overpowering her. she didn’t like that you weren’t safe.
you went to offer her a water bottle, but she wasn’t paying attention. instead, she noticed the lack of food in your fridge, frowning when you tried to cover it up.
another few minutes of her silence went by and you couldn’t take it anymore.
“look, i know you’re rich. i know you like to have luxury brands and that you don’t have to worry about whether or not someone will break in and steal what little you have left. but that doesn’t give you any right to judge me. i’m sorry i don’t live up to your expectations.”
natasha licked her lips and leaned her back against the kitchen counter.
“how long have you lived like this?”
her question caught you off guard, but you managed to find an answer.
“i’ve always lived like this, nat.”
she nodded solemnly before abruptly turning around to look at what was inside your cabinets.
“what are you do-”
“you have no food.”
you sighed, “well yeah, i can’t really afford it.”
“and the receipts?”
natasha was met with a shrug. “have to keep track of everything somehow.”
she stared at you a minute longer before finding the exact words she wanted to say.
“i would never judge you, or anyone for that matter, on their living situation. i know people don’t always have a say in what or why things happen.” she paused. “but i don’t like knowing you go to sleep every night with broken windows practically inviting anyone to come in and intrude. i don’t like knowing all you have to eat is bread, canned fruit and grilled cheese sandwiches.”
you listened to her ramble on, still nervous about the fact that this was new to her.
“so come live with me.”
“natasha-”
“come live with me.”
you immediately shook your head. “no, no, no. nat don’t even-”
“i’m serious. you won't win this argument, y/n. let me take care of you. i don't mind picking you up and dragging you out of here myself if that’s what it takes.”
a sigh left your lips as you folded your arms across your chest. “natasha, i can’t have you do that. i’m okay, i promise.”
the redhead raised her eyebrow. “how many times have you gone to bed hungry? or let your car run on fumes for as long as you could? and how many times have you gone to work sick because you can’t afford to miss one single day?”
when natasha was met with no reply she moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you into her embrace.
“i know it’s only been four months but i don’t think i could ever forgive myself if something happened to you and i didn’t do enough to stop it.”
she kissed the side of your head, “let me take care of you.”
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jungshookz · 4 years ago
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yoongi comes home late & y/n’s fast asleep
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➺ starring; min yoongi x reader
➺ genre; the ever-so-elusive sugardaddy!yoongi who was supposed to have his own fic in 2018 but he never ended up getting one because i moved on!!! fluff!! smerhaps/smaybe/smalmost smut (slightly suggestive themes)!! also because this is sugardaddy!yoongi the drabble is slightly cliché/2012 wattpad-y but it is what it is 
➺ wordcount; 1.6k
➺ summary; a groggy yoongi comes home late from work and is pleasantly surprised by what he’s been greeted with. 
➺ what to expect; “this is cute. i’ve never seen you in pastel purple before.”
                                     »»————- 💜 ————-««
the first thing that yoongi sees upon his arrival home is you fast asleep on the couch wearing nothing but a lavender silk robe and what he’s safely assuming to be a pretty pretty pair of matching bra and panties underneath (you’re sleeping on your stomach but the robe obviously rode up while you were asleep so the end of it is sitting scrunched up on your lower back)
and he knows this is supposed to be a sexy situation and all, but the fact that you’ve dozed off with one arm and one leg hanging off the couch just makes you look...
“cute.” yoongi murmurs to himself as he bites back a fond smile, bending down to take his shoes off quietly so that he doesn’t accidentally wake you up 
he had to leave after dinner because there was some emergency at work that apparently couldn’t wait until tomorrow and before he left he promised you that he’d be back as soon as he could... 
with that being said, it’s half past midnight which is definitely mucH later than he thought he’d be back
he takes his suit jacket off slowly as he makes his way over to you, gently folding it and resting it over the top of the couch
hm
if you’d fallen asleep on your back then it’d be easy for him to scoop you up... so he’s not sure how he’s going to approach this... 
yoongi clears his throat quietly as he unbuttons his sleeves before rolling each one up his forearms 
maybe if he moves really slowly, you won’t wake up?
the feeling of the couch dipping down slightly from under you is what rouses you awake 
your eyelids flutter as you regain consciousness and you feel your heart skip a beat in excitement when you recognize the scent of yoongi’s cologne lingering in the air 
you’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep for but it must’ve been a while because you can feel a slight indentation of your bracelet printed onto your right cheek anD there’s a faint patch of drool on the couch that you’re hoping yoongi won’t notice 
you didn’t mean to fall asleep but the couch is just so comfortable that you managed to convince yourself to take a little nap while waiting for yoongi to come back 
you were only supposed to be asleep for half an hour - you set an alarm on your phone and everything! - but you’re pretty sure the sun was still setting when you said that and now it’s pitch black outside 
admittedly, you were a little bummed out when yoongi told you he had to leave for a while but you understand that he has an important job and that he’s a fairly busy man 
on the bright side, him leaving left you with a good amount of time to a) wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen a little (even though yoongi’s told you multiple times that you don’t have to) b) catch up on some readings that are due for your classes, and c) change out of your grubby clothes and into the lingerie set you’d been hiding from him for a whole month (!!) 
(you’re pretty sure he’s probably seen the order being charged to his credit card but he hasn’t said anything about it.)
“hi, sleepy.” yoongi coos quietly, leaning down to press a kiss to to the back of your shoulder, “sorry i woke you up. have you been here all night?”
“yeah…” you hum, voice slightly raspy with sleep, “i was going to nap in the bedroom but i wanted to be here when you got back.”
“i’m sorry, baby…” yoongi shuffles closer, sliding his hand down the curve of your back before giving your bum a light squeeze, “if it makes you feel any better, i’m definitely a big fan of what you’re wearing.”
“really?” you roll yourself around before propping yourself up onto your elbows, not missing the way yoongi’s eyes flicker down to your chest for a brief second, “the robe’s a little wrinkly now, but…” you lift your leg up a little so that the slit of the robe parts around your thigh and yoongi glances down in interest    
“this is cute.” he comments, hooking a finger under one of the garters around your thigh before tugging at it gently, “i’ve never seen you in pastel purple before.” 
“yeah, i-” you find yourself blushing (though yoongi hasn’t even said anything to make your cheeks pink) as you reach down to pull one of your stockings up a little higher, “i thought maybe it’d be nice to try something different… i know you usually like black, but… well, i- i actually bought this set in black as a back-up, if you... if you want me to change...” you find your voice lowering when you notice yoongi leaning in and you don’t get much of a chance to say anything else before he’s pressing his lips against yours 
!
yoongi can’t help but chuckle when you reciprocate the kiss eagerly, practically shooting straight up from the couch before beginning to paw at his shirt 
you manage to loosen his tie slightly before he loops an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him
your stomach flutters at the prospect of finally getting to spend some alone time with yoongi
you’ve been swamped for the last month or so because of midterms and essays and presentations and countless readings so when yoongi asked you if you wanted to stay at his place over the weekend you basically jumped at the chance 
he’s usually the one who stays at your apartment so it’s nice to switch things up!
plus, yoongi has one of those fancy rainfall shower heads in his bathroom so that’s a definite bonus 
all of a sudden, the little voice in your head whispers for you to get up and onto yoongi’s lap- but because good things never last, he pulls away from the kiss far too soon for your liking and you resist the urge to get up and just tackle him to the ground 
he was gone for like!!! five hours!!! 
“i wanna-” you pause as you try to figure out how to word exactly what you’re feeling without sounding like a moron, “i wanna keep... like, kissing you... and stuff...”
well 
nice effort 
sometimes you wish you were more experienced so that you could be the sex kitten yoongi probably imagines you as but yoongi insists that it doesn’t matter to him 
it’s just embarrassing sometimes when you try to sound sexy but you end up sounding like a robot that’s just churning out sexy words 
you know he’s been with others before who are far more experienced with this part of the job so you can’t help but feel a little insecure when you get all bleep bloop I Want To Kiss You And Stuff bleep bloop 
“and stuff, hm?” yoongi teases, leaning in to give you a quick kiss before getting up from the couch and reaching over to grab his suit jacket, “i actually do want you to change- into your pyjamas. because you have an early class tomorrow and we can’t have you falling asleep in the middle of it. now, c’mon-”
“wha- hey, hold on-” you immediately get up from the couch when yoongi turns away and walks off, quickening your pace when he switches the main foyer lights off and disappears into the hallway, “yoongi-!”
“come on, i’ll let you choose another shirt you’re probably going to end up stealing from me-”
“woah, woaH-!” you finally catch up to him, your stockings gliding against the smooth marble of the floor as you slide around so that you’re standing in front of him, “what do you think you’re doing??”
“can i help you, miss?” yoongi grins when you slink your arms around his neck and press your body against his, “i’m going to get ready for bed, that’s what i’m doing. what do you think you’re doing?” 
“i don’t wanna go to sleep yet.” you whine pitifully as you slide a hand down so you can fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt, “you’ve been gone all night…”
“oh, don’t pout like that.” yoongi coos, reaching up to cup your cheek before using his thumb to pluck at your pushed-out bottom lip, “you had me all day yesterday, you know. i had to bump one of my meetings to next week because of you.”
“yeah, but i wasn’t wearing this yesterday-” you pull back for a second to gesture to yourself exaggeratedly, “you’re a good businessman. we should compromise!”
“alright, alright-” yoongi laughs lightly and reaches forward so he can pull you back towards him, “name your price, boss.”
“let me join you in the shower.” you grin, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, “and then i promise i’ll go to sleep right after.” 
“hm, i don’t know…” yoongi teases, undoing your robe before sliding his warm hands underneath it so he can cup your hips, “i feel like we’d end up doing a lot more than just shower together if i let you join me...”
“would that be so wrong?” you ask innocently as you look up at him with doe eyes, yoongi giving your hips a squeeze as he walks you backwards and towards the bedroom, “we’d save water by showering together!” 
“‘showers’ with you can last up to an hour. if anything, you’d be hiking up my water bill!”
“yeah, but you can afford it-” 
🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)
✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?
💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?
🌟or something even shorter?
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angelicyoongie · 4 years ago
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everything i brew, i brew it for you
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⤷ 1.2k follower event request: Familiar!Seokjin x Witch!Reader + “I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave.” + Fluff/Angst ⤷ @softescapism​ said: seokjin x reader or OT7 x reader + prompt C8 + witch/familiar, fluff, sfw (hi! could you write a drabble/scenario/short fic for the follower event based on this, please? 💓) ⤷ word count: 2.1k ⤷ a/n: this is a little angsty in the beginning, but the ending is all fluff! i hope you like it!!
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“There you are!” You grumble, snatching up a vial from the back of your cabinet. The little thing is covered with dust, the label yellowed with age and barely clinging on to the glass. But even then, there’s no mistaking the content. The shimmering pink powder inside makes you stomach flip uneasily, but you know it has to be done. You uncap the bottle before you can talk yourself out of it, carefully sprinkling the powder counter-clockwise into the boiling concoction in your pot. You can’t help but frown as it slowly turns from clear to bright pink, the stark colour mocking you as you throw in a pair of four leaf clovers with a little more force than necessary. The kitchen is quiet aside from the bubbling brew and the rhythmic tapping of your impatient fingers against the counter, your eyes resting nervously on the dark garden outside your window. You promised Seokjin years ago that you would never make this particular potion again, but you’ve run out of options.
You love being a potions witch, but truth be told, it’s probably the worst financial decision you could have made. All witches have to choose their niche the day they turn eighteen, and you, driven by the long list of potions witches in your ancestry, wanted to follow in their footsteps. What you didn’t account for however, is just how drastically the times have changed. Larger covens have started selling their potions online, making them in big batches to cut down on the cost and shipping them all across the country. There’s no longer a need for a town to have their own potions witch, not when you can get them delivered to your doorstep for a cheaper price. The mass produced potions are definitely not as potent as a singularly brewed ones, but it seems people care more about price than efficiency these days. Well, at least most people don’t care. And considering business has been dwindling so alarmingly fast over the last four months that you’re barely scraping by, there’s not a chance that you can lower your prices anymore than you already have.
You shake your head, trying your best to ignore the tendrils of guilt wrapping around your chest. As long as your familiar doesn’t find out about this order, there will be nothing for him to worry about. That's why you’re hunkered over the stove in the first place; desperately hoping that it will be done in time before he comes home. Tonight is Seokjin’s monthly familiar night with Hoseok and Namjoon, and the only window of alone time you have to make something like this. You murmur a quick incantation under your breath as you give the potion one last stir, watching as the pink brew slowly darkens to red. The sickly sweet smell that whiffs up from the cauldron almost makes you gag, but at least it tells you that the potion is almost complete.
You take a step back, throwing another glance towards the window as you count down the seconds in your head. Five minutes. That’s all you need. It’ll be finished, and you can finally hand over the love potion to your customer tomorrow. Despite your reservations and Seokjin’s hatred for that particular brew, it’s actually not that bad. It can’t force someone to fall in love, but it does make them more .. loose-lipped around their crush if they happen to have one. If anything, it’s honestly more of a rebranded truth serum. It does make you want to confess your feelings, and that’s also where the dubious morality of the potion comes in. Even if the person is already in love with someone, it still forces the recipient to act on emotions that they might not be ready to, or even want to share with their crush. You’ve turned down requests for this potion numerous times in the past, but this time, you truly can’t afford to. Seokjin might be older, but he’s still your familiar. Your responsibility. It’s not his fault that he decided to create a bond with you – a witch who can hardly sell enough potions to keep food on the table. You have honestly no idea how you managed to end up with a familiar like him, one that’s so utterly selfless and helpful. Seokjin’s guidance and assistance feels a little wasted on you, and you can’t help but think that your familiar should’ve ended up with a different witch. One that would actually be able to repay him properly for everything he does. You let out a deep sigh. You’ll just have to do better. Maybe you can try to set up one of those witchgram accounts Taehyung is doing so well on, after all, the ritual witch’s sales has been increasing.
The brew suddenly releases a puff of red smoke, signaling its completion. You hastily grab an empty bottle, scooping up as much as possible as you fill the vial to the brim. ”Shit, not yet,” You can suddenly feel the familiar itch behind your right ear, a telltale sign that Seokjin will be home soon. You scramble to turn off the oven as you hear your familiar open the back door, just about managing to shove in a cork at the top of the bottle and hide it behind your back as Seokjin steps into the kitchen.
”Hey! How was your night out?” You lean awkwardly against the counter, bottle digging into your back as you press it flush against your body.
”It was good,” Your heart flutters as Seokjin comes closer, the handsome features never failing to make your heart skip a treacherous beat. ”How was your night?” Your familiar raises an eyebrow as he takes in your awkward posture, the lingering scent of magic in the air betraying what you’ve been up to while he was gone.
”Boring! You know, just very normal and .. boring,” You wince. You breath hitches as Seokjin stalks closer, the frown tugging on his lips causing another wave of guilt to crash through you. You brain shuts down as he cages you in against the counter, and you swear you only blink before you find yourself staring at a red vial in front of your face, your hand grasping around air.
”I see,” Seokjin huffs, ”It’s so very boring and normal to brew a potion we agreed we wouldn’t sell.” As Seokjin stares down at the bottle with disdain before he places it on the counter, you can’t help but shrink against the wood, wracking your brain to figure out a good excuse. You can’t explain why you did it without exposing Seokjin to yourfinancial issues, and you have no plans of doing it – but, then you catch your familiar’s gaze, his kind eyes filled with saddened disappointment as he says, ”Y/n, why would you do this behind my back?”
The reason bubbles up your throat before you can stop it, the words bitter on your tongue as you blurt out a panicked, ”I had to! Business isn’t going well and we need the money, I couldn’t turn the customer away.” You register the flash of shock in Seokjin’s eyes, the purple tint around his brown irises brightening before he gets it under control. Your familiar runs a hand through his hair, leaving the dark locks messy and disheveled as he let out a deep sigh.
”For how long has this been going on?” You slump against the counter, adverting your eyes down to the floor as you mumble, ”Four months. I should’ve told you back then, but I didn’t want you to leave. I thought I could fix it before it became too much of a problem .. I just didn’t want to make you regret choosing me.”
Seokjin’s eyes soften, an exasperated huff of air leaving his lips as he places his fingers under your chin, tilting your head back up. ”Y/n, I would never regret choosing you as my witch,” Your familiar keeps his gaze locked with yours, his eyes urging you to understand the sincerity behind his words. "I just wish you had told me, we could have worked this out together much earlier.”
”I didn’t want you to worry,” You frown. "You already do so much by making deliveries and gathering ingredients, and I didn’t want to burden you more." You feel your breath hitch as Seokjin’s hand moves from your chin to cup your cheek, his touch gentle as he runs his thumb across your skin.
“That’s what I’m supposed to do as your familiar, Y/n. I’m here to help you and guide you, but I can’t do that if you don’t tell me when something’s wrong.” You know that, you really do, but it’s still hard to accept sometimes – the fact that you can’t solve everything on your own.
“I’m sorry,” You pout.
”I know,” Seokjin nods, a faint smile on his lips as he moves his hands to your back, pulling you into a hug. ”Just talk to me next time, yeah?”
”I will, I promise,” Your voice is muffled by the thick material of his sweater, but you know your familiar hears you as his arms tighten around your waist in response.
”Good,” Seokjin’s voice is fond as his fingers draw small patterns against your back. You feel yourself relaxing into Seokjin’s hold, your body melting against his as he rests his head on top of yours. ”How are we going to fix it though? I’ve tried almost everything I can think of. There’s nothing that beats low prices and convenience,” You sigh.
”Of course there is,” You pull back at the affronted tone in Seokjin’s voice, your familiar looking down at you like you personally offended him. Seokjin releases you from his hold, his hands flying up to cup his face as he says, ”I can beat that. This–” He points wildly at his face, ”–is sure to bring business in again. No one can resist the opportunity to glance upon this handsome face.” You snort at the expectant expression on his face, rolling your eyes so hard it feels like they’re close to popping out. As much as you like teasing Seokjin for his confidence, he’s not wrong. There’s no one in this town that can come close to Seokjin’s handsomeness, and well, everyone knows it. That’s the biggest reason you have Seokjin running errands and making deliveries, because it means he won’t have to deal with being ogled by all the customers that stop by. For all the banter and smiles he would flash at your customers, you could tell it made your familiar uncomfortable. You could see the way he gently tried to pull away when touches lingered a little too long on his arms, his ears stained a permanent red the days he worked out in the shop.
”Making money isn’t worth it if means you’ll have to do something that makes you uncomfortable,” You shake your head, ignoring the flutter in your chest as you grasp Seokjin’s hands, pulling them away from his face.
”I’ll be fine,” Seokjin says. It’s your familiar’s turn to roll his eyes as he sees the doubtful look on your face. ”I mean it. Please trust me just this once? I’ll let you know the moment it gets too much.”
You hesitate, using the extra seconds to search his face for any uncertainty. ”Fine,” You grumble. You owe it to your familiar to at least extend the trust he has given you back to him.
”Don’t look so sad Y/n, you know you’re the only witch that gets unlimited access to my handsome face,” Seokjin grins.
”Shut up,” You groan, pushing lightly at his chest. You can feel the heat creeping up your neck as Seokjin looks down at you, and you find yourself thankful that familiars don’t have enhanced hearing, otherwise your heart would’ve surely given you away years ago. Something flickers in Seokjin’s eyes, and your familiar’s grin turns heart wrenchingly soft as he ducks his head down.
”I do mean it Y/n, you really are the only witch for me.” You freeze as Seokjin leans in, your blood rushing in your ears as you feel your familiar’s plush lips press against the corner of your mouth. As your brain finally catches up to what just happened, Seokjin has already pulled back. The spot he kissed is burning against your skin, and you barely manage to make sense of Seokjin’s warm gaze lingering on your lips before his eyes flicker behind your back, eyebrow quirking as he says, ”Now, what should we do about that potion?”  
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tomtenadia · 3 years ago
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Families - part 2
This is the following part to the fic I wrote for the prompt Single parents.
PART 1
It will likely have one or two more parts.
-----
A few months had passed and the season shifted and winter had eventually fallen on Orynth, bringing snow and its usual cold temperatures. The arrival of winter meant as well winter festival and if there was something Orynth excelled at was to celebrate that season and the solstice. The usual winter fair was sprawling in the central area of town, with food vendors, stalls and the major attraction; the ice rink.
The fair was the reason why now Rowan was in his car with his daughter, driving to Aelin’s place to pick up her and Aisling. 
They had kept their promise and the four of them had become quite close. The girls would have sleepovers and Aelin had been more than happy to look after Astrid when Rowan was on a night shift at the hospital. On a handful of occasions, on his day off he had reciprocated and Aisling spent the day with them.
Once the fair had started, Rowan had asked Aelin and her daughter to go out skating. He loved skating, and ice and everything connected with winter. Astrid instead had become obsessed with skating after her dad took her to a hockey game. At eight she was now totally hooked and had also asked to join a club, so Rowan had signed up to a junior ice hockey team and now his daughter was looking forward to show off her skills on the ice.
They arrived at the house not long after and Aelin and Aisling were on the pavement waiting for them.
“Hello stranger,” said Aelin getting in the car seat behind him and with her hand brushed his shoulder. Although nothing official had happened between them he had not missed the sneaky glances, the shy touches that both of them had been exchanging.
“Hi Astrid,” she added brushing the girl’s head “looking forward to show off? Your dad tells me that you are really good on the skates.”
The girl beamed proudly “I have been teaching dad. He is clumsy.”
Rowan chuckled “I am just rusty. I used to play hockey, but I haven’t been much on the ice in a long time, young lady.” He replied saving his dignity. He listened to Aelin engage with his daughter and a part of him was jealous of her easiness. He loved his daughter and did his best to keep her happy, but sometimes he felt like he did not have the same connection that Astrid had with Aelin. He blamed it on him being a man, he just hoped he was not letting her down.
Once all parked up they got off the car and started walking to the ice rink.
“Dad, can we have hot chocolate later?”
“If you behave.” 
Astrid grabbed her own skates from the trunk and hugged her dad “I always do.”
They let the girl walk in front of them and Aelin hooked her arms with Rowan’s as they reached the rink “I have a confession.” She said quietly, searching for his green eyes.
Rowan lifted an eyebrow in a question.
“I don’t know how to skate.”
Rowan chuckled and patted her hand “it’s fine, I’ve got you.”
Aelin’s heart raced at those words. Maybe she was imagining more than what he actually meant but for an instant she felt as if there was a deeper meaning in that statement.
At the ticket booth Rowan paid for all of them and they grabbed their gear. Astrid and Aisling already at the rink side and ready to go.
“Dad, can we go?” Shouted an impatient Astrid.
Rowan exchanged a glance with Aelin and she shrugged.
“Go, but be careful and keep an eye on Aisling. She is not as good a skater as you.”
Astrid grinned and the two girls disappeared on the ice.
In the meantime Aelin had sat down and was donning her ice skates. Rowan crouched down and helped her. Then he sat next to her and donned his pair. Once ready he helped her stand. Gently he fixed her scarf around her neck “it’s cold.” He told her while his finger lingered a bit longer than needed. 
“Let’s go,” he told her while offering her a gloved hand. Aelin took it and together they entered the rink. Aelin felt unstable the second she set foot on the ice and crashed against him. Rowan pulled her closer to him “steady.” He looked at her and huffed a laugh.
“Are you making fun of me?” She asked outraged at his reaction.
“No,” he shook his head and fixed her wooly hat “your hat was askew and it made you look cute.”
“Rowan Whitethorn,” her hand on his chest “are you flirting with me?”
Rowan winked and moved a bit away and left her but Aelin shouted that she needed help, so Rowan came back, grabbed her hands and turned around so that he was skating backwards and pulling her with him.
“Show off.”
“I told you I played hockey.”
“Were you good?”
 He made her pirouette slowly and laughed “I almost went professional but during one game I injured my knee pretty badly and I had to give up.”
“That sucks.”
Rowan shrugged “I went into med school instead. I ended up finding another path I loved.”
She crashed again against his chest and loved the feeling of her cheek against his hard muscles. And his scent. Rowan smelled of pine and snow. She inhaled deeply and a moment later she felt his strong arms around her “You and I should go on a date.” He said quietly while he kept dragging her around the rink. She looked up at him and saw tenderness in his green eyes. She hadn’t imagined it. The feelings, whatever was blossoming between was there had not been her imagination.
“If I survive this ice skating outing, you can take me out.”
“Good,” in that instant their daughters whizzed past them and Aelin laughed “they are having fun.”
“Astrid has been counting the days for this evening. She really likes it when you two are around.”
“She is not the only one…” and she hugged him tighter and Rowan squeezed her shoulders.
“I have a very good babysitter, She has been doing it for years. She can be trusted.” He explained to her “I can’t use my neighbour at night. She is elderly and she only helps me during the day.”
Aelin nodded “if you trust her I am happy, but we will have to pay her double and I want to cover my share.”
Rowan was about to protest but Aelin stopped him with a finger on his lips “No buts. She is looking after my daughter as well, so it’s on me too. Don’t fight me on this.”
Rowan’s hand rose in a yielding motion “you win.”
The evening ended without incidents and they all made it out of the rink alive. They had dinner at one of the vendors, the four of them sitting at the picnic tables in the warm area. Aelin even convinced him to eat a chocolate covered pretzel.
Eventually the evening came to an end with Rowan claiming that it was getting close to bed time for the girls and when they tried to protest Aelin joined him in saying that they had school the following day and promising another evening out not on a school night.
Rowan drove Aelin and Aisling back home and on the door they agreed on a day for their fate and Aelin sealed the deal with a kiss on his cheek.
It was the Saturday and Aelin was in front of Rowan’s door with Aisling at her side “Will you promise you will be nice? The young lady is here to look after you and Astrid.” 
Yes, mum.” 
Aelin rang the bell and Rowan opened the door and she gasped. He had worn a pair of jeans, a black shirt and he was now donning his coat. Her heart raced madly in her chest. The man was even more stunning than usual.
“Sorry we are a bit late, there was traffic.”
Rowan shook his head and motioned to come inside.
Astrid came running down the stairs and the two girls disappeared upstairs once again. The two adults had a few words with the babysitter and eventually left.
“Do you think Evangeline will be okay with two of them?”
Rowan laughed “I imparted upon Astrid the need to behave or I will reduce her book money allowance.”
“That is cruel,” commented Aelin who loved the idea that he gave his daughter an allowance to buy books.
“But it works. Since she had started reading she always needs to have a book with her. She loves it. I used the no hockey threat two days ago so I have to change from time to time.”
Aelin joined his hand on the gear “I am glad we are doing this.”
“Me too,” he replied, squeezing her hand back while at the traffic lights “I have been meaning to ask for a while but I never knew if it was just me or you reciprocated as well. Then the ice rink evening I had my answer so I gathered my courage and asked.”
Aelin laughed “I had the same debate. I kept thinking that it was just me.”
They arrived at the restaurant ten minutes later and as he helped her to get out of the car Rowan could not look away from her. Aelin was wearing a lovely blue dress that matched her eyes, her hair was tied up in a lovely French braid. She looked amazing. Once inside the restaurants, they sat, and Aelin could not believe where she was. He had taken her to a very high end restaurant, one she had read about but always thought was far out of her league. She was glad she had dressed nicely.
“How did you pull this off? Even a uni lecturer like me knows that this place has a crazy waiting list.”
Rowan laughed “The wife of one my colleagues, she is the head chef here. I just asked a favour.”
“This place is classy.” Aelin added “I hope that it’s not one of those places where the price is bigger than the portions.”
Rowan chuckled and filled her glass with wine “Definitely not, I promise. The food is really superb.”
They ordered and their food came very quickly and Aelin was impressed by the plates in front of her. The food looked amazing and the portions definitely generous.
She took a few bites then a sip of wine and braced herself for the conversation she wanted to have with him and hoped it did not ruin the atmosphere.
“Rowan, where are we going with this?” She asked, looking at him “We have daughters. Two girls who like each other very much and connect because they both have something in common.” She paused to gather her thoughts “I know it’s just the first date, but our situation is different. I have to think about Aisling. Allowing you in means letting you in her life as well. I can’t do flings, Rowan.” She finished quietly.
Rowan sighed and took a bite of his food, then placed his fork down and took her hand “I had the same speech ready in my head. Our daughters have the priority and I agree, we need to be careful. All I can say is that you are the first woman since my wife died that I ever felt any interest in.” He brought their twinned hands to his mouth “You are incredible and I want this to work out and not just for our daughters. I think we need some happiness.”
Aelin almost burst into tears “I want this too. You have no idea how much. But I am so rusty.”
“Hey,” he reached out with his hand and stroked her cheek “I am rusty too, but there is no rush. One step at a time.”
Aelin nodded and they went back to eating for a moment.
“Do you think we should tell the girls?” Rowan’s question was cautious.
“Let’s have a few more dates than we can just tell them.”
Rowan nodded.
The meal finished, the bill came and now they were walking in the park while snowflakes fell from the sky.
Rowan took her hand in his “it’s snowing.”
Aelin freed it and walked a few step away from him and started circling under the snow, her mouth wide open. Rowan stared at her and laughed at the scene and at the joy emanating from Aelin. And while he stared at her, dancing in the snow he realised that his feelings for her were far deeper that he thought. In the few months they had gotten closer he realised that she made him happy. Aelin made him feel again the array of emotions that he thought he had lost a long time ago. She made him feel alive and in that instant he realised he wanted her in his life. With him and Astrid. The four of them.
He took a step toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. She looked up at him and the smile she gave him was pure sunlight. He kissed her. Deeply while his hand brushed her face. She opened for him and Rowan put all his love into the kiss.
“I love you.” He said softly against her lips, not letting her go. Never letting her go. They were each other light out of the pit that their lives had been for almost eight years.
A second chance at being a family.
At a dream broken too early.
“I love you, Rowan.”
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soft-for-them · 4 years ago
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husband has a real ring to it ♡ sam wilson x male reader
anon: hey so like, being sam wilson's husband (or new husband) at your wedding??? (sorry it’s a bit short...)
i haven’t specified if the male reader is cis or trans but there is a bit in here where the reader compares themself to steve, whether you see this as the reader being trans or cis is up to you.
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the gif has no significance it’s just a good gif... also there is a HUGE lack of sam content out there. people get you shit together and write about my fave man. not proof read.
It is an odd time.
The country you now stand in is completely foreign to you. Nat can speak the language; you think it might me some form of Russian. If you could guess you think you might be in the Ukraine or a country that was once a part of Soviet Union.
None of the on the run Avengers will tell you exactly where you are for you safety but you don’t care.
All you care about right now is the blazer you just tried on is too wide at the shoulders.
Even Steve says the shoulders of the jet black jacket are too wide even for him and that saying something coming from a man who was artificially made to be the spitting image of masculinity and heroism.
Sometimes you do get jealous of the super soldier and how he came to be.
Once a skinny and short kid now the second most handsome man you’ve ever seen, sometimes you think ‘if only i was as strong as Steve and not a useless civilian’.
Thought if anyone hears your negative thoughts in this small, cramped room off the side of a small abandoned church you would be done for. 
Natasha, Wanda, Steve and Sam have always loved you and they don’t tolerate your pessimism at all. None of them will take your self-loathing especially on this very day.
But that’s the thing, you’re not self-loathing today. You push away any non-happy thoughts and put on a genuine smile.
It may not be official in the eyes of the law for your other half is a wanted war criminal but your getting married to your long time boyfriend Sam Wilson today and nothing will stop you from doing so. You have both promised that he will properly marry you but for now you have agreed to exchanging rings.
‘Where did you find this place?’ you ask Nat as she takes you too big blazer from you.
The place is completely and utterly abandoned in the middle of nowhere. Plants have caved in apart of the roof but the stained glass still absorbs and reflects light making the rotten pews look like the seats of a king.
‘I knew you might not want to get married in a church but this is the safest place I could find, that with the fact this is no longer a place of worship.’ She walks over to you and tucks a handkerchief into your white dress shirt pocket.
Regardless of if your religious or not you know this place is a perfectly acceptable place to trade rings with the man you love.
Nat looks you over and smiles, her arms wrapping themselves around you in a rare hug.
‘You look very handsome (y/n).’ she mutters.
‘Even with my beard?’ you half joke, referring to the scraggly hair growing back on your chin from shaving it off the week before for a disguise.
‘You have a better beard that Sam and Cap put together.’ Her tone is joyous but utterly serious which makes you smile grow even bigger.
You do not feel any negativity, all you feel is utter euphoria in your wedding attire.
‘You ready to go’ she whispers like a happy mother about to marry off her only son.
All you do is nod as you let her lead you out to the alter where you both wait for Sam and Cap to arrive.
Wanda sits in a front pew; she very obviously misses Vision and if it was up to you he would be here to celebrate for you had befriended the synthetic man before the ‘civil war’ happened.
But alas none of you can risk you all being found out on your unofficial wedding day.
For a moment you all wait in silence looking up the stain glass of some kind of saint.
This isn’t the place you want to get married in but you can see it’s charm even if it’s been abandoned, ransacked and left to rot.
You can imagine Steve giving Sam a prep talk, for he had given you one about an hour before.
When Steve had talked to you he seemed like a overjoyed father, even with the tears in his eyes, you’re still thankful the super soldier talked to you.
Your waiting is cut short as the side door that you and Nat had came through opens to show both Steve and Sam.
Steve walks out first, holding the door open for Sam then Sam walks out, his eyes automatically on you.
‘Ow, I though Steve was going to walk you down the aisle.’ Wanda quips to Sam despite her brooding feelings.
A short conversation goes on between Sam and Steve (probably another pep talk) but all you can focus on is Sam looking at you as he talks to Steve.
Steve pats Sam on the shoulder, which turns into a hug, then he lets him go.
 Sam wears a suit very similar to yours; a simple black suit that could be found quickly and very easily without being detected by Tony or an of the American government.
The woman in the small mum and pop shop where very kind to you both despite their being a language barrier, they had helped you get the suits for a good price.
Much like you also Sam wears no blazer jacket, with you don’t mind considering you can see every muscle through the hand made white shirt.
‘Where’s your blazer?’ you ask.
He walks right out to you and holds your hands. His hands are cold but you assume it’s from standing around in a derelict church for a while.
‘It was too small in the shoulders.’ He smiles, the gap in teeth showing.
‘Ah, that could have been my blazer Sam.’ You laugh grabbing the attention of the others. You all laugh at the mishap of the mixed up blazer but that doesn’t really matter.
Wanda stands up and passes both of you the rings; one single silver band with your name carved on the inside for you and a much fancier looking ring for Sam. Despite Sam’s ring looking more expensive it’s actually very cheap.
He had quickly bought it when you were all hiding out in China, Sam had quickly realised that he had a ring for you but he didn’t have one for himself. He’s had your pure silver ring for years now waiting for the right moment to give it to you.
 ‘How do we actually do this?’ you whisper whilst the other sit down on the pews.
‘I don’t really know, maybe when just exchange the rings and say something.’
‘Like vows? Do we kiss?’ the questioning isn’t really that serious for the two of you are smiling like idiots.
‘Well all I can say is that I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you-’ Sam begins saying as he slips the silver ring on your finger, ’-I love you my husband.”’
’Wow… husband has a real ring to it.’ You beam as look down at Sam’s hands, you fingers nimbly placing his ring on, ‘-Does this now mean I get to kiss the bride?’
Your joke not only makes yourself laugh but you can hear the laughter of the other in the background.
‘Gladly.’ Is all Sam say before holding your face and kissing you.
.
.
.
honestly i don’t think this is the best thing ever but i’m posting it.
i’ve been writing a lot of ftm trans reader requests today so i kind of automatically wrote the reader as trans at first. i’ve changed it so the reader can be cis or trans but i just putting that out there just in case i’ve forgotten to change something. (sorry)
also i know that many people have different types of weddings and cultures so i’ve tried to make it as ambiguous as i can, that why it’s not a technically legal wedding.
anyway, sam is the best and i would love to write more fics for him!
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whereisten · 4 years ago
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Porcelain
A Yangyang fic that’s part of our Halloween Series! 
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Summary: After a falling out with your friends, you wander into a forest and find a mysterious mansion with an even more mysterious inhabitant, Yangyang. 
Pairing: rich boy!Yangyang x female reader 
Genre: romance, fluff, fantasy, mystery, suspense, drama
Word Count: 7k
Warnings: Violence
(A/N): hey y’all! So the timing for posting this story worked out so well because it’s Yangyang’s birthday (in America!) :D Anyway, this is our second story for our Halloween Series for NCT 2020 and we hope you enjoy!  I’m so excited to be writing for one of my biases. I know my writing needs a lot of work but I hope you guys enjoy it. Yangyang is precious. Stan Yangyang, y’all. Shoutout to Krys for inspiring me everyday and for proofreading my story! You are my rock!
_______
It was October 10, the day in which your small town came together for a big bonfire to celebrate the fall season. Your town of Celestial was known for celebrating something every week but the atmosphere was always special at this time of the year. Classes ended for the week and your friends were excited to go to a party in the woods.
Unfortunately for you, you were abandoned off the side of the road after having a falling out with your friends Dowoon and Sana for blowing off the mayor’s son’s party. You’d recently been rebuffed by him in the senior hallway. Your rejection was followed by your classmates mocking you all day long. You wouldn’t be caught dead at Peter’s party. And you were especially in no mood to put up with your friends’ preference for a good party over their recently spurned friend’s feelings.
You said screw them but they would probably end up screwing each other anyway. They were platonic but their drunken hookups always said otherwise. So sometimes you felt like a third wheel. Which was also why you didn’t want to go. You wanted a new experience this spooky season. And you were probably getting one now that you were 2 miles outside of town. Damn your pride. Dowoon and Sana insisted you get back in the car but the driver, the school quarterback, quickly drove them off. What a sense of community, you thought.
It was freezing in Celestial at this time of year so you were layered up, saving your pair of ruby red mittens for last. The overcast sky appeared to promise snowfall. If not for tonight, the snow would surely fall tomorrow
You knew this area well enough to walk back into town but as you took a few steps forward, you noticed smoke in the distance. Like it was coming from a chimney.
That was odd, you thought. Who lived on this side of town?
As you walked in the direction of the smoke, you moved past the dense evergreen trees and before you knew it, you stumbled upon a mansion out of an old-time movie. Dating back to at most the 1800s. The mansion was a Renaissance chateau, big and domineering. Something that could’ve made Celestial a tourist destination like Asheville had with the Biltmore Estate.
How was it possible that anyone could live here, you thought. Surely, this would be the talk of the town if anyone knew. And if it was off-limits, it would’ve certainly kept the town on their toes.
The mansion was quiet and there was no trace of movement or inhabitants. Then again, it was large so you could be incorrect. The chateau’s main entrance was big and made of the most pristine marble. The only thing missing was a moat. There were several fountains in the entrance. The water froze due to the colder weather. You didn’t understand how you could keep moving forward. You didn’t know this place. You didn’t know who could be inside. But you found yourself taking steps up to the massive double doors. Your hand moved to the doorknob and turned it over. The door creaked open and without a second thought, you walked in.
The door slammed shut behind you but you weren’t afraid. In fact, you were mesmerized by the atmosphere of the mansion. From the outside the mansion looked preserved like a fine piece of art in a high-surveillance museum: cold and unwelcoming and way out of your price range. But on the inside, it felt...warm and bright. It felt like home. It smelled of cinnamon and freshly baked bread.
You walked through the entryway and found everything illuminated by candle light. There was no indication of light from the outside. It was almost as if the real goings-on were hidden from the outside world.  
There were shoes at the entrance. You took your boots off to not track dirt into the residence. Winter coats were hung up on the coat rack. You hang your coat up as well. There was a half-full cup of tea that was beside the sofa of the sitting room. You admired the interior: the expansive first floor library, the dining room table that sat seven, the pristine kitchen area, the music room...
As you stood in the doorway of the music room, you heard the sounds of a violin playing a somber but sweet melody. Rather than grow alarmed, you longed to find the source, thinking that whatever it was could only bring you joy.
The music room was massive, with a skylight in the shape of a spade on the ceiling. The sunset colors of the sky never looked more stunning than they did at that moment.  A grand piano lay at the center. You longed to touch it but something inside you warned you against it. Instruments of all kinds were splayed across the area. But there was no violin in sight.
When you turned around to continue exploring the mansion, that was when you found the source of the music.
A boy about your age stood before you with his violin rested against his collarbone. He continued to play as he smiled knowingly at you. He had straight brown hair that nearly fell into his warm brown eyes. He donned a black tuxedo that was more regal than modern. His eyes crinkled as he watched you, delighted to meet such a beautiful stranger.
You nearly jumped at his presence. “Who…are you?”
Quirking an eyebrow, he replied as he continued playing, “I should be asking you that. You’ve broken into our home.”
“Our?” You asked.
He shook his head. “What brings you here, miss?”
You knew you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to  but you couldn’t help it. This place called out to you and you’d hoped you could stay longer. But it looked like your time was up. You lamely said, “I…need to borrow your phone.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re referring to. What’s this ‘phone’ you speak of?” His refined voice was not like that of the locals. He sounded well-traveled, worldly. But definitely from a long time ago. 
The more you spoke to this young man, the more you realized that he didn’t sound like he lived in the same century as you.
You frowned. “You don’t know what a phone is? Come on, you’re kidding, aren’t you?”
He halted from playing and gave you a look. “Tell me. What is a phone?”
“…It’s a device that lets you speak to someone who isn’t with you…” You attempted an explanation that was as eloquent as possible, thinking that if you spoke in a more refined tone, he would get what you were saying. Where on earth could this boy have been from to not know what a phone is? He really sounded like someone from a century past.
“Like a medium?” He asked as he set his violin down in its case. He put his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly back to you. Your breathing stalled as his face was mere inches from yours. He was indeed very handsome. His high cheekbones. His glorious tan skin. A pearly white set of teeth. His legs were dangerously long as he faced you.
Your face warmed up and you hoped he couldn’t tell. You backed away as you locked your eyes on the piano instead. “No…It’s like if I were two miles away from here and you needed to get a hold of me, you could use a phone to contact me on another phone. It’s an electronic device.”
He nodded. “Oh, I’ve heard of those…My family and I could not acquire them, unfortunately.” His expression became sad, longing.
Hearing his defeated voice, you turned to him. “Oh, I’m sorry. Why is that?”
He looked at you, defeated. “I’d rather not say, miss…”
“Y/n,” you answered.
“Y/n,” he replied, liking the sound of your name.
“It’s okay,” you replied, “I should probably go…I’ve overstayed my welcome, sir….Your name?”
“Yangyang,” he answered, anticipating the sound of his name off of your lips.
“Yangyang…Would it be possible to get a ride back into town? I can pay you for your trouble.”
He smiled apologetically. “My sincerest apologies but I’ve no means to take you.”
“Oh…” It was all you could say.
You felt a small pang of worry at the pit of your stomach, especially now that night had fallen. Perhaps, you could make your way back into town if Yangyang offered you a torch. He would have that much, at the very least.
“It’s dangerous to go out on your own at this time of night, y/n…” He said, quietly. It was a little eerie that he read your mind at that moment.
“I know. I’m such a fool…I couldn’t borrow my father’s phone for the night so I have no way of calling anyone…I…just couldn’t help myself when I walked in here…” You said as you looked around the music room. “It was like…”
“Something pulled you in,” he finished.
“Yes, exactly.”
Yangyang began, “I know it’s out of turn for me to say this but I can offer you a room to stay in for the night…Then, you can make your way back into town in the morning.”
You were beyond lucky your parents weren’t home for the weekend. Otherwise, they’d be worried sick. But even so…How could you say yes to a total stranger? Even if you were only a few miles out of town, you didn’t know Yangyang. You didn’t know what his intentions could be.
Another part of you told you to trust him. Because what would you do in the woods at night? You couldn’t account for the wolves or the other creatures of the night. You didn’t know who else could linger in the woods.
As far as you could tell, Yangyang was an odd but attractive guy. And if he was offering a separate space for you to sleep in, then you should take it.
_______
There was a snowstorm in a matter of minutes when Yangyang escorted you upstairs. How odd for it to be snowing in early October, you thought. You rejoiced over how your jerk of a crush's party was a bust. You wondered if Sana and Dowoon made it home safely. You wondered if they worried about you now. After they left you in the middle of the road.
Maybe you should stop being friends with them. You felt like you were more disappointed in them with each passing week. You wondered when they would do something for you. It always seemed to fall on you to pick them up from parties and cover for them when their parents called your house when they went to a 21+ club. You just wanted a simple night in to watch a movie and share ghost stories. Maybe they didn’t want to do those things anymore.
You wouldn’t say they grew up but maybe...the three of you just grew apart.
You pushed thoughts of them to the back of your mind as Yangyang stood in front of an ornate door, decorated with flower engravings, painted in several colors. The initials at the bottom were “W.T.”.
Yangyang pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door for you. He handed the set of golden keys to you. “These are yours for the duration of your stay. You can trust no one will come in...Unless it be your wish, y/n.”
He dropped the keys into your hands. “Thank you,” you whispered.
Yangyang smiled. “You are welcome. Supper will be ready in an hour. I’ll come for you when it is time.”
You couldn’t look at him for too long without your eyes burning. He was too radiant. Too beautiful. Almost otherworldly. You looked down at your socks as you entered the room. You shut it gently behind you.
You locked the door from the inside, trusting that Yangyang gave you the only set. You took a sigh of relief as you took in the bedroom.
This had to be a mistake, you thought.
This had to be the master room. It felt like you were in a 19th century penthouse suite, if such a thing had existed. Your room for the night started with a fireplace and a sitting area. When you walked past it, you entered the study area that was bigger than the first floor of your house. You had a massive walk-in closet filled with gowns and shoes of every color. You even had a room full of fine jewelry on display, including tiaras studded with diamonds. Your mouth remained open as you walked through the “bedroom”.
You shouldn’t have access to any of these things. For they must have belonged to someone. Why would Yangyang let you sleep in here?
Lastly, as your heart couldn’t take anymore, the bedroom was plush and luxurious. The carpet embraced the soles of your feet. After resisting the urge to touch everything else in the bedroom, you allowed yourself to sit on the king-sized bed.
Sleeping in this bed would’ve compensated for all of the all-nighters you’ve pulled in your life. It was a shame you wouldn’t be able to sleep that night, though.
You were many things. Naive, innocent, studious, and quite impulsive at times. But you weren’t about to fall asleep in a stranger’s home.
Half an hour passed as you washed up and warmed up by the fireplace.
Yangyang knocked at your door. You thought it odd that he would be escorting you down himself. Shouldn’t he have servants, living in a place like this?
You opened the door and Yangyang stared at you in shock.
“What?” You frowned. You looked exactly the same as you did when you first met him, he realized.
“Were none of the gowns to your liking?” Yangyang asked, genuinely confused.
You did a double take. “What? Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly...Those aren’t mine. I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. No more than I already have.”
Yangyang was stunned at your decision. He thought you would have tried on all of the dresses in the past half hour and don the diamond tiara with golden accents...But no...The suite he’d given you was relatively untouched. You were certainly a woman of your word. You would’ve looked stunning in the red sleeveless dress, he thought. He snapped out of it and said, “No matter. You had the option...That’s why I gave you this room. Everything within these mansion walls is at your disposal.”
You laughed. “You’ve done more than enough for me so don’t worry. Now...can we go eat? I really can’t turn down a meal.” You hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
Yangyang laughed at your candor. “Of course.”
As you walked down the grand wooden staircase, you could hear more people in the house. You heard chairs being pulled, laughter, clinking of glasses, and the piano being played.
You turned to Yangyang. “Who...”
Yangyang replied, “My brothers will be joining us for supper.”
“Oh,” you said, surprised. When you entered, you were shocked enough that Yangyang was there. Who knew more people resided here? Up until now, it was so quiet that you could probably hear a pin drop.
That, and Yangyang’s violin. Which you longed to hear again.
You felt quite underdressed upon meeting Yangyang’s brothers in the dining room, which boasted a lot of paintings and miniature statues to the men who stood before you. There was another grand piano in the dining area, where one of Yangyang’s brothers sat and played a lively piece. Three of the brothers were laughing about an anecdote that the tallest of the group told. The final two men sat as...to your surprise, servants finished setting the dining table, lighting the flames of the candles in the center. The servants’ dresses had turned up collars with plain neckties. Yangyang’s brothers all donned suits of dark reds, blues, and grays. They looked like members of a royal family.
At the sight of you, the music stopped and all of the men started moving towards you and Yangyang.
“Yangyang, an introduction is in order,” the pianist asked as he got up from his seat.
“Brothers, this is y/n. She is staying with us before she returns to town in the morning,” Yangyang said, the humor in his voice when he spoke with you vanished. He moved closer to you, you noticed.
The pianist asked for your hand and kissed it. “Enchanted to meet you, y/n. I am Wei Kun, the oldest of the Wei children.”
You coughed, a little shocked at how forward Kun was. It was a culture shock to you. Most boys thought they were too damn special to ever make eye contact with you.
You shook hands with the other brothers. They were all very happy to see you. But you couldn’t quite place what kind of joy it was so you remained on your toes.
“Please, sit,” Winwin said as he led you to the seat right next to the head of the table. Kun sat down at the head of the table and smiled at you. The rest of the brothers joined you.
The servants began to bring out the drinks and the first course. Ten was about to sit next to you when Yangyang immediately claimed the seat.
“Calm down, brother,” Ten said, “It won’t do you harm to let her sit beside someone other than you.”
Yangyang remained in his seat. “She is my guest.”
Ten chuckled as he sat across from you. “So y/n, what brings you to this neck of the woods?”
A servant poured a glass of water for you. “Thank you,” you replied and tried to meet her eyes.
The servant quickly turned away and headed to the kitchen, you assumed. That was odd.
“Well,” you continued, “My friends and I were going to a party in the woods. We got into a fight and I got out of the car that was on the road not too far from here…”
“A car?” Xiaojun frowned, his bold eyebrows furrowed. He took a bite of his salad.
So these men didn’t know phones or cars... “Oh...Well, they’re these machines that can transport people from place to place…”
“Like a carriage?” Yangyang offered.
“Ah.” The rest of the boys said in realization.
You nodded as you drank your water, “Yes, but it runs on gasoline.”
The boys were amazed at your tales about modern technology. You went into as much detail as you could about phones and cars. The boys were an odd bunch. It was almost as if they never left this house.
Although it seemed like that, they told you tales of their travels to Asia, South America, and Europe. They told you about their cultural expeditions and their visits to the natural wonders of the world. Ten, the painter of the family, motioned to the paintings you’d seen earlier. They were paintings of places like Machu Picchu, the Colosseum, and the Parthenon. They were paintings of the places they visited. They were so vivid and lifelike. Ten was an incredible painter. Talent ran in the family, that was a sure thing. You were as much in awe of their tales. You were thankful the spotlight wasn’t on you like you’d expected, being the sole stranger of this household.
You enjoyed the salad, the tomato soup, the roasted duck, and the dessert, which happened to be your favorite: strawberry shortcake.
“Would you care for another slice?” Yangyang asked in a whisper as the other boys talked. He noticed your face come alive at the first bite of the cake.
You nearly choked on the last bite of your slice. You must have looked gluttonous to him. You should’ve eaten slower, you thought. You must have not been very ladylike at that moment. You shook your head. “That’s alright. Thank you. Everything was delicious.”
Yangyang looked at you once again in confusion. You clearly wanted another slice so why weren’t you asking for it, he asked himself. “Very well…” He murmured.
Lucas got up from the table. “Well, Yangyang, the boys and I will retire early...Although we wish you would let us be in y/n’s company…”
Yangyang quickly replied, “Good evening, brothers.”
They all pouted but wished you a good evening.
You laughed. “Your brothers are a lot of fun.”
Yangyang scoffed. “That’s one word for them. The minute they caught wind that I had a visitor, they insisted on joining us for dinner. I am so sorry, y/n. You must have been overwhelmed.”
You shook your head. “It’s nice to know that it isn’t just you in this house.”
Yangyang was stunned at your words. You were so...kind. Thinking of others, always. Thinking of him, basically a total stranger. You were as kind as you were trusting. It made his heart ache.
He pulled your seat back for you. He offered his arm. “Are you tired?”
Exhausted, actually. But once again, you were in a stranger’s house. And now that you knew he wasn’t alone, you wanted to be more on guard.
“Nope...I am wide awake.” You smiled as you took his arm. He was warm to the touch. The electricity ran between both of you.
Yangyang laughed. “What would you like to do, y/n?”
“I’d like to hear you play,” you said.
He was shocked at your honesty. He liked when you expressed yourself honestly most of all.
It was the truth, you thought. Frankly, it was part of your ruse to stay up as late as possible but if Yangyang could keep you entertained, it would certainly help a lot.
And truly, you could listen to his violin for hours.
_______
Back in the music room, you sat on the couch, serving as Yangyang’s audience. He loosened his tie and took off his jacket, setting it aside on a chair. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt.
He warmed up his hands and fingers for a few minutes before he tuned the strings of his violin. His fingers were so elegant and slender. The veins of his arms protruded as he flexed his hands. He looked so focused and determined and just unbelievably beautiful. The violin was an extension of his heavenly hands. This was the most attractive he’d ever been. You bit your lip.
You told yourself to calm down, for he was a complete stranger.
Sure, up until this point, he gave you the bedroom of your dreams. A dinner that nearly brought you to tears from the flavor and comfort it gave you. And he was playing his beloved instrument for you...But you couldn’t get attached so quickly.
He couldn’t meet your gaze because the look in your eyes made him feel something he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge. Time had slipped quickly and his heart was deceiving him when it shouldn’t have.
“So...what will you be playing first?” You asked. How many songs could you get out of him before you both retired to your rooms?
Yangyang grinned excitedly. “An original I’ve been working on...I finished composing it today.”
“Really? Today?” You asked.
He gave you the knowing smile he had the moment you met him. “You helped me finish it.”
“Is that so? Well, I’m ready when you are.” You smiled, about to kick your legs up like an overly excited schoolgirl.
“The piece is called ‘Found’,” Yangyang said as he positioned his bow against the strings and began.
Yangyang was truly an otherworldly being, especially under the skylight. The snowstorm was long gone and only the moonlight shone down on him. His skin illuminated like porcelain. His sculpted face tilted as he immersed himself in his song.
You realized the song was the piece he played when you entered the music room the first time. The song was somber at first. The notes were low and left you feeling down. Yangyang’s face was so melancholic at the start of the song. However, as he continued, the notes became lighter and freer, picking up towards the end, signifying hope. Your heart swayed with each three-note chord he played.
You weren’t entirely sure of the story behind the song but meeting you must not have been a low point of his day.
You clapped for Yangyang. “I loved it! It’s...too beautiful to be called merely beautiful...You are so talented.”
Yangyang’s cheeks were now a rosy pink. He bowed for you. “Thank you.”
You laughed giddily. You wished you could’ve recorded this performance, you longed to keep it with you for the rest of your life.
Yangyang continued playing his original pieces. He was truly gifted in his craft. His compositions were nothing to sneeze at. He should be a world-famous musician with all of the work he’d done.
As he played, he would meet your eyes and give you a little smile. You could watch him for hours. He could play for you for hours.
You two were in this perfect little bubble, then. Reality didn’t take effect. It was divine.
Yangyang’s hands grew tired and after his last song, he sat beside you.
“You look sleepy, y/n,” he noted, “Did my performance actually bore you?” He mocked taking offense.
You fought a yawn but couldn’t let it escape you so turned away from him. You lifted a finger and told him to wait.
You let out a yawn, trying not to be noisy. Yes, you were tired. A long day at school, a falling out with your friends, and an evening at the Wei Mansion did its number on you.
You faced Yangyang again. “I’m wide awake.”
Yangyang lifted an eyebrow in skepticism. “Perhaps you would like  something to drink?”
You nodded. “Something warm...Would hot cocoa be possible?”
“Absolutely. It’s a staple at this household this time of year,” he said.
He offered his hand to you and you took it. Both of you were taken aback by how immediate you were to hold hands but neither of you let go as Yangyang led you into the kitchen.
In the kitchen, he tended to you. The servants were nowhere in sight. The mansion felt like it had when you first came in: empty.
It felt like you two were the only people in this house, a world in itself.
He poured you a cup of cocoa he made and you were in love. The cocoa tasted amazing. You drank it slowly, savoring every sip.
You shivered a little from the cold that creeped into the mansion. Yangyang left for a moment and returned with a blanket. He wrapped it around you.
It was plush and made of the softest material you could ever imagine. If you snuggled too much against it, you would fall asleep right then and there.
But your energy started picking up again...It must have been the cocoa.
“We can go into the library...I’ll start up the fire.” Yangyang offered as he drank his cup of cocoa.
It seemed Yangyang was eager to stay awake with you, you thought.
“Aren’t you tired?” You asked.
He looked up from his cup. “What?”
“You don’t have to force yourself to stay up with me. I’m the one who can’t sleep.”
Yangyang knew you were keeping yourself awake on purpose. He knew you didn’t completely trust him or this house. Slowly, however, you opened yourself up to him and he was quite fond of you. He wanted to be by your side for the night. He didn’t know why exactly but he just did.
He met your gaze. “I hope it is not too forward of me to say this...But I want to remain at your side.”
You looked down, flattered at his words. Then, you mustered your courage and met his unwavering stare. “Okay.”
The truth was, you felt safer with Yangyang. And you couldn’t lie to yourself: you liked him. He was kind, attentive, charming, and a wonderful musician. The moment you met him made you forget all of your troubles...if only for a moment.
You two walked into the dome-shaped library. It was bigger than any commercial bookstore. You wondered how old the family’s collection was.
Yangyang started the fire at the fireplace by the reading couches. He motioned for you to take a seat.
You sat down and nearly sank into the couch. It was so comfortable. You were living in the lap of luxury.
“Y/n, are you alright?” Yangyang asked.
You laughed. “Yeah...why?”
“Your eyes rolled to the back of your head,” he said, smiling confusedly.
You laughed again. “It’s because this couch is the most comfortable thing I’ve ever sat on.”
Yangyang smiled and shook his head. “The simplest things please you.”
“Nothing about this house is simple,” you said.
He shook his head, smiling at you and picked up a book off of the shelf. He scanned the title and the summary. “What do you like to read, y/n?”
You answered, “Horror.”
Yangyang’s eyes widened. “Really?”
You nodded. “Yes. I like the suspense and the kinds of creatures the writers come up with.”
Yangyang was wrong to assume you were a romance kind of girl. He’d hoped to woo you with some Shakespeare. He took it in stride and put the book he had back on the shelf. He took a rolling step ladder and positioned it farther away from you. He got up on the steps and picked up another book off the shelf.
“It’s called ‘The Mysterious Mansion’,” he said, biting back a laugh.
“How fitting,” you said, laughing.
You and Yangyang shared a couch as you took turns reading to each other. The story was dark and twisted but got your heart racing.
Well, maybe Yangyang’s being so close to you may have had something to do with it.
The hours pass and you finish off the last page. Yangyang leaned against the other end of the couch and simply watched you. He loved the sound of your voice and the way it cracked.
He gave you a glass of water to relax your voice. He loved how your eyes scanned word for word. The crease between your eyes as you interpreted the author’s words. But you kept on reading aloud. He’d read “The Mysterious Mansion’ several times but this time was his favorite reread.
You could hear Yangyang talk forever when you heard him read the passages. His voice was soothing and full of wonder. The grin on his face right before he read a twist to the story. The crinkle of his nose when he laughed at your reactions. He’d become a friend.
A friend you wanted to kiss.
This was the most fun you’d ever had. This cold October night with this enchanting young man. You kinda wished it would never end but you were still resolved to...Stay...awake…
Your eyes grew heavy and you curled yourself against the couch. You pulled the blanket tighter around you.
Yangyang realized you were drifting. He quickly moved over to you and shook you awake.
You two had stayed up all night and it was nearing daybreak. And he had to move fast.
“Y/n!” He yelled to wake you up.
You grumbled. “What?”
“Please wake up. You need to leave right now,” Yangyang demanded.
You rubbed your eyes and snapped out of it. How the hell did you almost fall asleep, you fool, you thought to yourself. The alarm in Yangyang’s voice also was a cause for concern. “What’s wrong?” You asked.
He shook his head rampantly. “There’s no time to explain. Do you have everything?”
You nodded. “I have to get my coat and boots at the entrance.”
Yangyang grabbed your hand and you both ran towards the entrance. You put your coat and boots on. Yangyang did the same and he nearly dragged you out the door. You quickly moved down the staircase and set foot on the dewy grass. Yangyang kept his foot on the last step of the staircase.
The sky overhead was mostly black but shades of oranges, pinks, and red were breathing through. Dawn was imminent.
That was when you realized you had no mittens. You’d left them in the bedroom.
Yangyang noticed your bare hands. He pulled off his royal blue mittens and slipped them onto your hands.
“You don’t have to-“ You started.
“I want you to have them. A fair trade. Yours for mine?” He smiled.
He squeezed your hands before he let them go.
“Thank you...for tonight, Yangyang,” you said. Even though it was through the weather and the night that you had no other choice, you had a magical night with a boy who was so wonderful, he must’ve been out of a classic novel. He’d treated you like a friend and listened to you: about what you wanted to do and what you liked. You’d wished you could’ve gotten to know him more but you appreciated that he listened to you attentively.
You were sad the night had ended but you’d succeeded in staying up nearly the whole night at least. You were meant to leave now. You’d overstayed your welcome and you needed to get home. That was the most important thing.
Yangyang moved closer to you and moved some hair away from your face. He touched your cheek with the back of his hand. Once again, you both did something with no thought.
You got up on the staircase and kissed him. He pulled you in to deepen the kiss. He picked you up off the ground as he continuously took your breath away.
But as quickly as this piece of utter bliss started, it quickly ended.
He let you go and set you down on the grass. “Goodbye, y/n.”
“Goodbye, Yangyang.” As you walked into the forest, you turned back once more and watched as Yangyang stood there, his face unreadable.
You waved at him and his expression softened as he waved back.
You laughed as you turned back now and kept on moving. The path to the main road took a little longer than expected because it was still dark. However, the sun rose before you knew it and you were able to see the main road again.
And you were shocked to find several people on the main road. Cop cars were parked off the side of the road. A news reporter for Channel 23 News could be heard saying.
“It is Day 8 into the search for y/n y/l/n. She was last seen on this road, Road 116 by her friends and has not returned home. If you have seen y/n or have any information that can help our police force find her, please call the number on the screen: 1-800-RES-CUES. Again, that’s 1-800-RES-CUES.”
Dowoon and Sana were being interviewed by another news station.
Dowoon was on the brink of tears, his eyes stained red. “This is all our fault.”
Choking on her tear, Sana continued, “We shouldn’t have left her on the road...We thought she went home...We were so stupid…”
What the hell was going on?
You walked into the road and several people turn to you in shock. They gasped and screamed your name.
Your parents broke out of the crowd of people that has accumulated. “Y/n!” They both yell.
They run up to you and wrap their arms around you, weeping hysterically.
Your mom yelled, “Y/n, where have you been? My baby!”
Your dad held your face in his hands, “What happened to you? Are you alright?”
You were shocked at their reaction. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you guys were in New York until tomorrow.”
Your parents, not letting you go, gave each other a meaningful look.
Your mom’s eyebrows furrowed. “Tomorrow? Y/n, we came back a week ago.”
You laughed in disbelief. “No, you guys left Friday morning, yesterday morning.”
Your dad shook his head. “Y/n, you’ve been missing for a week now.”
You laughed again. “No...You guys are messing with me.”
But then you looked around at all of the worried looks on the people’s faces. The police officers came right over. You even saw Dowoon and Sana sobbing not too far from Sana’s car.
“You guys...I stayed in a mansion not too far from here for the night because of the snow…”
“What mansion? What snow?” Your parents asked in unison.
You darted your eyes to everyone else and whispered to them. “Come with me.”
“Y/n, we need to get you home…” Your mom pleaded.
You shook your head. “I need to show you where I was and that I wasn’t in danger.”
“Y/n, we should tell the police-” Your father offered.
“No!” You snapped. “Please trust me. He didn’t do anything to me. He’s my friend.”
At the mention of “he”, your parents were up in arms and motioned for the police to come over.
“We will go with you, y/n…” Your mom said.
She meant that they’ll go with you if you have a police escort.
You shook your head and led the party to the mansion. You couldn’t believe this. Missing for seven days? That was impossible. You’d only been gone for the night. How could anyone have known you’d been gone? Your parents were away.
Once you got out of the forest to the Wei mansion, you saw that there was no mansion. Only an abandoned cabin.
What?
“Is this where you were detained, y/n?” Police Officer A asked.
“I was not detained. This isn’t the mansion I-”
“A mansion?” Everyone looked at you skeptically.
You entered the cabin, knowing that everything you believed in was slipping through your fingers. Tears quickly ran down your cheeks. The cabin was shabby, the furniture inside covered in dust. It had been unlived in for quite some time.
“Y/n!” Your parents yelled.
The police rushed in after you and Police Officer B held you back. “Let me go!” You demanded.
“It’s dangerous.”
The police officers searched the entire cabin three times over and came up with nothing. “There is no trace of anyone having been here for years,” Police Officer A said.
Well, of course not, this wasn’t the mansion that you stayed at.
Clearly, the more time passed, the more concerned everyone looked. It was possible you heard the words “rehab” and “therapy” and “mental break” thrown around.
You had to calm down. You knew you weren’t crazy. You knew it because you wore Yangyang’s gloves.
Yangyang.
Where is he? Where were his brothers? Where was the Wei mansion?
Police Officer B released you and you browsed the area. Your parents trailed behind you. You entered one of the bedrooms, encased in dust. You sneezed and found a chest with a lock on it. The chest was engraved with the letter “W” at the center. 
You recognized the engraving. It was the same handwriting from the bedroom door in the Wei Mansion. Your bedroom door...The keys.
You remembered you still had them in your pocket. It was a long shot but you pulled them out. You placed the key inside of the lock and opened the chest.
You found seven porcelain dolls. The dolls were more sophisticated than any doll sold at the local stores. They were almost lifelike. The way their eyes and lips were drawn. Each doll bared a striking resemblance to the Wei brothers. You could see them all: Kun, Ten, Winwin, Lucas, Xiaojun, Hendery, and…
Yangyang.
The last doll was definitely Yangyang. The doll held a toy violin and wore…
Your ruby red mittens.
Fin.
_______
Epilogue.
Yangyang sat in the music room alone, holding on tightly to your red mittens.
Hendery charged into the room. His brothers trailed behind. “You fool! Why did you let her go?”
Yangyang shrugged. “I’ve had it.”
“What are you talking about?” Xiaojun demanded. “You were smitten with her. She was clearly enamored with you.”
Kun laughed. “It’s because he’s in love with her.”
All of the boys looked at their oldest brother, confused. Yangyang avoided their stares.
“You changed your mind,” Kun murmured.
Yangyang sighed, “She was not like-”
Winwin rolled his eyes. “Please do not give us the story of ‘she was not like other girls’. She seduced you and you let her go. You fell for her game. She outsmarted you.”
Yangyang snapped. “Do not test me, brother.”
Ten interjected. “Okay, okay, everyone needs to calm down...We are just curious...Why? She could have stayed here with us forever...With you forever.”
Yangyang didn’t want to speak to them. Every moment that passed, he missed you more. “She did not wear the jewels or the dresses...She left everything untouched. She did not come to us because she sought material possessions. She wanted a friend…”
Lucas laughed. “How pathetic.”
Yangyang groaned. “You lot would not understand…”
“Do not act like you are better than us, little brother,” Kun began condescendingly.
“I am not-”
“You think you’re better than us because you let a prisoner go this time, do you not? Well, let me bring you back to reality. Our spirits are confined into those tacky porcelain dolls...So what do we do to ease ourselves? We bring people into this realm to reside with us. Materialistic, selfish, and vain people. Y/n is no different from the rest of them.”
“Shut up,” Yangyang muttered.
The rest of the boys were stunned to silence but Kun heard him clearly. “Repeat that, Yangyang. You know the consequences.”
Yangyang got up and shoved your mittens in his pockets. “Shut up, Kun.”
Kun smiled and laughed. The other boys faked laughter so as not to upset Kun even more. His smile quickly faded as he punched Yangyang to the ground.
Kun gave Yangyang a harsh beating and the rest of the brothers watched. No one dared to step in and upset Kun even further. Yangyang couldn’t blame his brothers. Besides, he wanted this. He wanted to feel a pain other than the pain of missing you. 
He may have been damned for the rest of eternity but he was thankful to have met you. You proved to him that not everyone could be consumed by the deadly sins, as he and his brothers had. You were an angel that gave you a moment of compassion, of affection. And for that he would always be thankful.
_______
Come back tomorrow the third installment in our Halloween Series! :) 
599 notes · View notes
phoebe-delia · 3 years ago
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Phoebes did you notice that most of the song prompts are odd numbers? I just think it's kind of neat! But for some lovely chaos in the stats, let us please have song no. 10? Also your doing this is a wonderful gift to the world and I adore you so so so so much
@rockingrobin69, Robin, my darling, hello. First of all, I'd noticed that the first ten or so were mostly odd numbers, but after you pointed it out, I realized how many odd-numbered ones I'd done! How funny. Also, before I get to tell you what song you've selected, I want to say that you and your writing are the true gifts and the feeling is very much mutual, my love. I cannot thank you enough for your constant love, support, and friendship. I absolutely adore you. <3
Another funny thing, Robin, is that you've managed to now select two out of my top three all-time favorite songs by Taylor Swift. (song prompt 3 was, ironically, my 3rd favorite TS song: "it's time to go.") But here, you've requested song 10, which is my number 1 favorite Taylor song of all time: "All Too Well."
The trouble is, I've already written one fic to this before. But no matter! I will persevere. This is technically a sequel to the original fic, but you don't have to have read it to understand this one! It is highly likely when the 10-minute version of All Too Well comes out that I will write a fic to that, but since it's not out yet, here's this. CW: post-breakup, potion/substance addiction, bad coping mechanisms, potions overdose; but there's a hopeful/happy ending!
Paralytici Memorias means "paralyzed memories" in Latin, if Google Translate is to be believed. And finally, an enormous, gigantic thank you to my big sis @avenueofesc for making this coherent and much better.
It wasn't a substitute by any means. It would never replace what it was made to mimic. In some ways, it was hopelessly inadequate.
But it was all he had: just the potion and his memories. If Draco's mind insisted on torturing him by reliving the best moments of his life in sepia-toned images, at least this way he could delay the crushing reality a little while longer.
Paralytici Memorias was his greatest triumph and biggest mistake. At first, he blamed it on completing his due diligence; every good potioneer should know and test the effects of their potion.
But then one test turned into two. Before he knew it, Draco spent the better part of his days coming in and out of deep periods of sleep, reaching for the vial every time his eyes opened to the sight of his empty flat, his engagement band on the coffee table next to him.
He wondered what Astoria would say if she could see him now. If their current level of communication as soon-to-be-weds was any indication, their marriage contract was more of a business venture than a romantic one.
After all, as long as he had a pulse, sperm for insemination, and a sound enough mind to sign over half his vaults, he'd have done his duty as her future husband as far as she was concerned.
"You'll forget about me, I promise."
His own words—written on the parchment he'd sent off with his owl before he could stop himself—were burned into his memory. He still remembered the searing pain in his chest as he promised the love of his life that what they'd had could be forgotten. In breaking Harry's heart, and in shattering his own, his only consolation was knowing that Harry would be happy eventually; that Harry would move on and find someone with the freedom to love him the way he deserved, someone who could offer the intangible riches in which Draco had always been impoverished.
As he reached for the vial that afternoon, it was to remind himself of the priceless love he sold for the price of his heart.
The potion’s effect was hazier than a Pensieve, but this way he could see the memories from his own point of view; could relive it in his own skin. Still, his mind couldn't do justice to Harry's eyes, the bright sound of his laughter, the warmth of his skin.
They were in Harry's car, the name of which Draco had never bothered to learn, too terrified and fascinated by the contraption. He yelped when Harry took a hand off the wheel to grab Draco's shaking one in a reassuring squeeze.
"Hands on the wheel, Potter!"
"I've got it under control, love. You watched me put the protection spells on the car myself, and it would be perfectly safe even without them. I promise I won't let anything happen to you," Harry said without an ounce of condescension.
Draco exhaled shakily, "If you say so."
"I do. Now, why don't you tell me a little more about where we're going?"
"Have you forgotten already? Honestly, Potter, your memory is abysmal."
"I haven't forgotten. I just like hearing you talk."
Draco valiantly didn't blush. And while he described the beauty of the Cotswolds, he found himself mesmerized at the red and orange leaved trees that lined the road as they drove out of the city and into the peaceful countryside, with its steady beeping noise.
Wait…that wasn't right. Why was it beeping?
"Potter, there's something wrong with the car."
"Draco?"
He squeezed his eyes shut tight before he opened them, blinking as the unfamiliar room came into focus. He could feel his pulse pounding in his head as his mind raced in a heady mix of confusion and anxiety. What happened? Why wasn't he in his flat?
"You're in St. Mungos."
Draco's head nearly snapped as he turned to look at a pale-faced Harry sitting in the chair next to his bed. Near Harry stood an unfamiliar woman scribbling on a clipboard. She reached over onto a side table and handed Draco a paper cup. The water was cool, a relief for his parched, sandpaper throat.
"Mr. Malfoy, how do you feel?" She asked after he handed the cup back to her.
Draco closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. "My head is killing me and I'm dizzy, but I'm okay. What happened?"
"Your fiancée found you unconscious in your flat. We completed a blood test and couldn't match the substance to anything we know—"
"I invented it," Draco grumbled. "Where is Astoria? Harry, what are you doing here?"
The healer pressed her lips together. "I'll leave you to gather yourself for a few minutes, but I'll be back soon to ask you more about that potion, and next steps from there, alright?"
Draco nodded. "Thank you, Healer...?"
She smiled. "I'm Healer Rostova. Press that pager if you need something, but otherwise, I'll be back in a little while." With that, she left the room, the door clicking softly behind her.
Draco turned to Harry, who regarded him with wide, worried eyes. "What happened? Why are you here?"
Harry bit his lip. "Astoria found you unconscious on your couch. She brought you here and then she, well...She called me."
"She—what?"
"She called me. She said you were in the hospital, and I didn't really think much beyond Apparating here."
"Why did she call you?"
"She said you were...talking in your sleep."
Draco blushed. "Oh."
"Yeah," Harry let out a humorless, breathy chuckle. "She figured it out, I think. She said to tell you that she's having her parents terminate the contract."
Draco closed his eyes, letting his head thud against the headboard and then instantly regretting it, gritting his teeth against the sharp pain. "Great. I bet Mother's furious."
"She'll come around."
"You don't know that. You don't know her."
"No, I don't, but hopefully she'll want you to do what makes you happy."
Draco clenched his jaw and looked away. "Happiness is easier to manage when it's artificial. I ran away from the only thing that ever brought me close to real happiness. I can't handle it."
"Then let's manage it together."
Draco closed his eyes, kept his head turned.
"Draco, look at me."
Slowly, Draco forced himself to look at Harry, opening his eyes to let the other man see the tears beginning to well.
Harry's expression was as pained, yet kind. "Do you have any idea how agonizing it has been to miss you?"
Draco's chest seized, sharp with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I thought it was what's best for both of us, I—"
"Shhh," Harry leaned forward, rubbing a soothing hand over Draco's. "We'll make it okay. We'll figure this out together, alright?"
Draco kept his eyes open, let himself enjoy happiness in full color. "Okay. Together."
Send me an ask about Harry Potter, broadway/musicals, The West Wing, and/or Taylor Swift! Or just about life in general :).
Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!
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rostovs-lover · 4 years ago
Text
roy rogers
brian may x reader | cursing, some suggestive language, a little bit of anxiety, alcohol consumption | she/her pronouns | fluffy? slow-burn?? | wc.3667
i’m low key tempted to make a part two,, 
anon : Can I request a super cute fic where Bri needs more money for uni, so he starts offering guitar lessons and the reader has a little brother who really wants to learn how to play, so she signs him up. Maybe her brother is extremely good with a guitar and he has a lot of lessons with Bri. He also sees the reader a lot and he catches feelings HARD. Maybe the reader’s little brother spills something to both of them with the help of the rest of the band and they end of together. I just need major FLUFF
your younger brother thinks his guitar teacher is perfect for you and he’s adamant about getting you together. requests open!!
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     A Roy Roger’s is a nonalcoholic drink made of cola and cherry grenadine and topped with a maraschino cherry.
     Your younger brother, David, practically lived in your apartment. For a fourteen year old he was brilliant and very, very sneaky. Sneaky enough to creep out of your mother’s house in the dead of night and crawl up to the fire escape of your second story apartment.
    When you’d stumbled to the kitchen, half asleep, he’d been at the table thumbing through a cookbook. He’d also had the audacity to laugh when you screamed, thinking he was an intruder. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last either.
    “One of these days something is going to be thrown at your head,” You hissed, setting a bowl of cereal in front of David, who looked at it with the utmost disgust.
    “What is this?”
    “Quisp, either eat it or starve.”
    He glowered at you, “I like Waffelos,”
    “That's so sad, I have no money, its Quisp or nothing.” It was quiet for a while as you both ate, David still looking through your cookbook.
    He closed the book, examining the cover as he spoke, “Mum said you have to sign me up for guitar lessons,”
    “Mum said what?”
    “You have to sign me up for guitar lessons, she’ll pay. I have a well of untapped potential in the musical realm. That's according to her coworker, Deirdre.” He sighed, exasperated, “Mum trusts Deirdre apparently because now I have to learn guitar.”
    “Where on earth does mum expect me to sign you up, I mean did she give you any specifics, like a price range? Do you even have a guitar?”
    “First, I have mum’s old guitar. Second, she just said lessons. I think she trusts your judgment.”
    Despite how much you appreciated your mother trusting your judgment, finding reasonably priced guitar lessons with someone who wasn’t a creep was harder than anticipated. You had collected a handful of flyers and business cards, all offering said lessons. The first call you placed was to a nice old lady looking to take up some spare time by providing lessons but she lived too far away for your mother to drive every week. The next was almost promising until you told Robert MacIntere that the lesson was for your brother, not you and he hung up the phone. One woman had too many cats, another man asked for your shoe size, someone else cursed you out when you said you couldn’t do their outlandish prices. The only promising thing you had gotten was a History professor, a very nice man too. You were thrilled when the lessons had finally been scheduled until he bowed out at the last minute and you were back at square one. 
    You had almost given up when, one rainy Thursday evening, you found an advert pinned outside of the auditorium. Guitar lessons, not too far away, open every Tuesday and Wednesday after three o’clock. The document was typed, all except a phone number scrawled on the bottom, almost as if an afterthought. You scratched the number on the palm of your hand and called straight away when you got home.
    The line wrung for several seconds, “Yo?”
    “Hi. Hi, yes I’m calling about a flyer I saw posted at Imperial College? It was an advert for bi-weekly guitar lessons, and your number was on the paper. I was wondering about booking a couple of weeks?”
    The person on the line snorted, “Sorry dear, that’s not me. I assume you’re looking for my mate, just one moment and I’ll gather him-” You heard his hand cover the receiver as she called for someone, “Just one sec’ lovie,”
    The phone was audibly handed off, “Hello?”
    “Hi, um I’m calling about the guitar lessons?”
    “Oh!” His voice, “Yes, of course! That's me, are you looking to schedule one?”
    You had scheduled for the following Tuesday at four, to meet at his apartment. In the car on the way there, David rambled on about everything he wanted to learn and exactly how ecstatic he was for this. He had named his guitar George, after George Harison, who he admired. On the elevator ride up to Brian’s apartment, David was practically vibrating and he bounced on the balls of his feet as you waited at the door.
    The door was opened by a blond, clad in a bathrobe and flannel pyjama pants who puffed at his cigarette as he stared at you, “What brings you here?”
    Before you could speak David, who the blond hadn’t noticed until just then, piped up, “The guitar lessons. I’m the one being taught, [Name] is just sitting in.”
    “Oh, well come in then, I’ll go and get Brian.” He tucked his cigarette behind him and lead you inside, “Um, make yourselves at home, couch is all yours.” He howled Brian’s name and ducked into the kitchen, snuffing out the smoke in an ashtray.
    David got settled on the couch, tugging out his guitar, and you set into a chair. From around the corner rushed a very frantic body, clutching his own guitar. He was very tall, and the black pants he wore made his legs seem unproportionate to his body. What caught your eye the most though was his hair, he had a thick mane of tightly wound black curls, which also added to his height.
    “Hi, I’m very sorry about this, I got a touch caught up in a bit of school work.” He settled onto the couch next to your brother, “You must be David, I’m Brian.” He gestured a hand to your brother.
    David, ever the charmer, shook firmly as he spoke, “Its pleasure meeting you. I wasn’t quite sure that lessons were even going to happen, no one seemed right, according to mum, but you seem nice! Your guitar is neat. Oh! That's my sister, [Name], I believe you spoke on the phone.”
    “We did,” Brian leaned forwards to shake your hand as well, “Its nice to meet you,”
    A better teacher would have been hard to come by. Brian was patient and soft spoken, he worked at your brother’s pace, never rushing past anything he didn’t fully understand. The lesson was only an hour long but it seemed much shorter, with a book in tow you didn’t pay much mind to anything else. That was until you caught yourself glancing over the cover to watch the lesson. Brian was attractive and he had very nice hands. You were somewhat aghast you’d never seen him on campus, he seemed hard to miss.
    The lessons became weekly, and despite trusting Brian and his roommate, Roger, you still opted to stay for every one. It was always pleasant, the apartment was nice, Brian was nice, and you had begun to get acquainted with his friends. During the third week, Roger had let it slip that they were in a band. Brian’s face had flushed scarlet and he’d played with his fingers as he explained that it wasn’t anything serious. On that same visit, you’d had a conversation with Roger in the kitchen while he got you a glass of water. He was nice, only half awake at the time, but you’d realized you had an evolution class together at school. He had also given you his number, and David would absolutely not let you hear the end of it.
    “Please-” Your brother cried as he threw himself onto your sofa, “You haven’t had a boyfriend in ages. The last one was, what was his name?”
    You rolled your eyes, “Chet?”
    “Chet Robbins! Chet the safe bet!”
    “Chet the safe bet? Did you make that up?”
    David smiled, very proudly, “I did! Just now actually, because it's true! Chet, the business student, trust fund child, frat boy. Why not date a drummer?”
    “Because I like stability David,”
    “[Name] date the drummer. I beg, I plead. He was so into you, he gave you his number!”
    “If you will recall, I have his number. Because his number is the apartment number and that's what I called for the lessons. I also refuse to date your teacher’s best friend. How would I approach that, ‘Hi Brian! You’re teaching my brother an instrument, I did your friend last night. How have you been?’”
    David gasped in mock disgust, “I never said a word about doing him. You foul wench, I simply implied dinner. Maybe seeing one of his shows.”
    “Oh my dear, when you date a drummer it's never just dinner.” You snorted.
    “Well, when I date a drummer it will be. Only dinner, no foul play.”
    “Please, please keep that attitude for the rest of your life.”
    It was quiet as he mulled over your words. You started off, putting away your bag and coat when he abruptly sat up, “You don’t dislike the drummer, in fact, it has nothing to do with him. You don’t like my teacher’s best friend, you like my teacher.” He grinned when your face lit up, “Oh you do, you absolutely do! I’ve never seen you blush that hard.”
    “You little twit,” You hissed, “If you say a word about this I will have your head. This stays between us and us only.”
    David was sneaky, very sneaky. Your conversation had planted an idea in his head like a seed and every brief glance and soft smile you shared with his teacher was water. He was growing a downright devious plan, with you directly at the center of it.
    David, after quietly looking over the house and picking up on Brian’s affinity for science fiction, had been the one to recommend you start reading George Orwell’s 1984. He had also purposely disappeared to the restroom when he caught sight of Brian eyeing the cover.
    Brian carefully cleared his throat, “Do you read much Orwell?”
    “Oh, Orwell? No, not really. I, um- I read The Road to Wigan Pier for a book club a while ago. Are you a fan?”
    “Oh yes,” He smiled, leaning forwards, “I’ve read that, actually. I was in a band a few years back by the same name,”
    You cocked your head, closing the book against your finger, “1984?”
    “Yes, quite silly, I know. Never was much good at naming.”
    “Roger said you’re in a band now, what's that called?”
    His cheeks were beginning to pick up a soft pink again, “Um, Queen. Our singer named it-”
    David sat back down, “Did I miss anything important?”
    Brian looked away and you went back to your book. The only noise became the guitar residing between the two boys on the couch. David had learned enough to start on a song, I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash. It was recognizable enough to draw your attention, and it was lovely at first until it was all David played. When you returned home, when you visited your mother, he played it so much you had memorized the fingering to it.
    It was at another lesson, several weeks later, when you had been left by your lonesome. David had gone to get a drink and Brian had run to retrieve something from his room. All alone and with nothing to tell you not to you settled into the couch with the guitar and tried at the song. It was choppy, a bit off-key, but mostly there.
    “I didn’t know you played?” Brian’s voice was soft but you still jumped, shooting around to find him. Leaned against the back of the sofa he twirled a coin between his fingers, grinning down at you.
    You swallowed, “I don’t, no, not really. Dave’s just played this so much I remembered how it looked.” 
    He propped his chin in his hand, “I think you could be quite good. Just, here-” He slipped the coin between his teeth to reach down, softly grasping your wrist, adjusting your placement on the neck. His hands were warm and it sent a shiver up your spine as he carefully moved your fingers, “That should do nicely, I trust you’ll do well with the right placement.” He was quiet for a moment, silently pondering something, “Friday night we have a show at about ten o’clock, say you come and maybe I could show you something on the guitar afterwards.”
    You considered, “Where is it?”
    “The Cameo, downtown London.”
    “It sounds lovely, very, but I have to admit I’m not big on the downtown London clubs. I actually don’t know where that is. Although I do have a friend whos well versed with the scene, I could ask her to show me there?”
    “Wonderful,” He grinned, “It's a date!” Something else David wouldn’t let go of. Usually, all he talked about was the music he learned but now he was enthralled with the prospect of a new romantic venture. You had been informed on exactly how to dress, what makeup to wear, what drink to order. He also picked the exact shade of blue for you to paint your nails.
    You called Marilla after your mother picked David up and she had agreed, enthusiastically, to show you to the club. When she arrived you had been called ‘prudish’ and were forbidden to dress yourself. In the very back of your closet was a floral dress you’d bought for a wedding reception that never happened. It was supposed to be returned but you just hadn’t gotten around to it.
    “It doesn’t scream rock n’ roll,” She inspected the green fabric under the kitchen light, “But anyone can look like Twiggy with enough eyeshadow so it’ll have to do. You should invest in club clothes, you might have to if anything goes with this guitar player.” Her eyebrows wagged.
    You rolled your eyes, taking the dress from her, “Hush, you’re just as bad as David.”
    “Your brother?” Marilla snorted, “What's he got to do with this?”
    “He's an insufferable little shit, that's what-” You pushed off your top, “At first he tried to get me with the guitar player’s flatmate but when that didn’t work he really pushed Brian and I,”
    Marilla was amused, far more amused than you, “He's a cunning thing, I’ve always liked him. Oh boy, now I really want to see your guitarist, Brian was it?”
    The club pulsed, dull lights glaring down against everything. It was smokey and smelled of weed and whiskey. The band onstage was far too loud and you clung to Marilla’s hand as she pulled you up to the bar.
    “What do you want?” She practically had to yell for you to hear but it went through you, you couldn’t think with all the noise and lights. She sighed and patted your hand, “A Moscow mule and a Roy Roger’s please.” She shouted at the bartender, “It's alright babes, no alcohol, just fancy cherry coke.” You nodded and accepted the drink, taking a tentative sip as you scanned the crowd. The band onstage had seemed to conclude their set but it didn’t make things any quieter. It was overwhelming really, moreso as Marilla started to pull you up to the front.
    “Come on, it's almost ten. Your boy’ll be up next!” She settled in front of the stage, rooting you to the spot next to her.
    Brian’s flatmate came out, twirling a drumstick between his fingers and he was met with loud cheers. Marilla whooped, waving big up at him. He was followed by the bass player, Brian, and the singer. They were all enthralling, and you were enraptured. The boys on stage looked ethereal, in flowy tops and sparkly makeup. The frontman was clad in glittery jewelry and the bass player wore platform boots. Their music drew you in and eased your nerves about how crowded the club was. The last song had a guitar solo and as he played Brian’s eyes met yours. A rose of warmth bloomed into your cheeks and he grinned, fingering at the chords.
    Marilla, immune to none, elbowed you in the ribs, “That's him?!”
    You nodded, “It is,”
    “Damn girlie! Good for you! But for the record, I think I like the drummer,”
    “His name is Roger. If you come backstage with me you can meet him.”
    She grinned, “I’m so proud of you, getting connections!” As they finished Roger flung one of his drumsticks into the crowd. You flinched as Marilla’s hand shot out. She squawked as she caught it, quickly tucking it into her pants and taking your hand, pulling you towards the back lounge. She pushed at the thin curtain to the side, slipping in.
    It was quieter and you watched people in glamorous outfits dally about. A redhead in hot pants dropped onto the shabby leather sofa, passing glass bottles of something to both the drummer and bassist. The singer was swirling what you could only assume to be a cosmopolitan. He looked up, catching sight of you and Marilla, both looking a bit lost.
    “Hello, come come!” The singer waved you over and Marilla practically dragged you.
    “You are spectacular!” She raved, “All of you, magical!” She tugged the stick out of her waistband and made her way to the drummer.
    You cleared your throat, “You really are amazing, you have a lovely voice.”
    The brunette smiled, “Thank you! I’m Freddie by the way, our charming drummer is Roger. The lovely John plays bass and Brian should be around here somewhere, he plays the guitar.”
    “It's nice to meet you, Freddie, I’m [Name]. I was actually looking for Brian,” You twiddled with your fingers, looking down, “He asked to meet here tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is would you?”
    “You know, he may have popped to the kitchen. I’ll show you,” Freddie stood up. He seemed to catch your hesitation, glancing back to Marilla, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Roggie really is no harm, he plays much bigger than he actually is, I don’t think he could hurt a soul. Not an undeserving one at least.” He started towards the kitchen with you in tow.
    Aforementioned kitchen was small and shockingly clean. Your guitarist sat on the counter with a glass of water.
    Brian seemed to be in his own world until Freddie caught his attention, “Someone’s been looking for you, my dear,”
    Brian looked up, “[Name]! Hello, I’m so glad you came!” He slid off the counter setting his drink down, “Did you bring your friend?”
    “I did, she’s become infatuated with Roger though.”
    He grinned, “Oh Rog seems to do that to some people.”
    “Well, I'll leave you to it!” Freddie called, waving and walking back to the lounge.
    When the door shut Brian began to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt, “I left my guitar in the other room, I could go and grab it if you’d still like to learn that song.” He studied your face, “But you don’t look comfortable, are you alright?”
    “Yes, this just isn’t really my scene. I’m not used to the noise and everything, there's a lot of people here.”
    He smiled sympathetically, “I know, it's crowded. There's a nice little diner just down the road, we could walk there and talk if you’d like.”
    You nodded, “Sure, that would be lovely.”
    The air was crisp and it brought you back to reality from the club. Brian had lent you an extra sweater he had brought, it was warm but you had to roll the sleeves a few times. It was quiet as you walked, the occasional car rushing past. The sidewalk narrowed as you got closer to the strip of restaurants and you felt the back of Brian’s hand brush yours. You caught his fingers, lacing yours into them and nervously looking up. His expression mimicked yours, jittery and shy and totally taken.
    “You look very pretty,” He murmured, thumbing over your knuckles, “That green looks very nice on you.”
    You smiled, “Thank you, you look lovely as well.”
    “Oh pish posh, this is just stage wear. But I’m glad you think it looks okay, Rog said I looked frumpy.”
    You giggled, “Marilla, the one who brought me, called me prudish earlier.”
    His laugh was soft, “Well, we can be fashion disappointments to our friends together,” He pulled open the door to MaryAnne’s Diner, holding it for you.
    You were settled in a booth waiting for your order when Brian spoke, “David really has potential,”
    “With the guitar? I’m not surprised, he's always been good at everything he tries. It's really quite annoying, how brilliant he is.”
    “He seems so, a very nice kid. Does he live with you?”
    “No no,” You smiled, “No he lives with our mum, he just sneaks out to see me more than he should. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for letting me sit in, I know it's not common practice. I just worry about him, he seems so much older than he actually is and I’m worried it’ll get him in trouble one day.”
    Brian patted your hand, “Oh darling, I understand. I really don’t mind at all, I’m glad I met you.”
    “I’m glad I’ve met you as well.”
    He had walked you home, contently explaining the story behind one of the constellations he saw.
    He stalled at the door, keeping your hand in his, “So I suppose I’ll see you next week?”
    “Absolutely,”
    He moved one hand to push a piece of hair out of your face, “Well until then I suppose,”
    You leaned up, closing in on him. You felt his hot breath against your cheeks, “Is this okay?”
    He nodded, “More than,” And pulled you into him. 
     He was as gentle in kissing you as he was in everything else, carefully nudging his nose against yours. His mouth was warm and he stroked your mandible, easing deeper into the kiss. He relished in the taste of maraschino cherry from the Roy Roger’s you’d had earlier. You gasped softly as he nipped at your bottom lip, pulling away. The lipgloss he had been wearing was smeared against the corner of your mouth and he carefully wiped at it with his thumb.
    David would never let you hear the end of this either.
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hotchley · 3 years ago
Note
15 from love prompts with hotchniss (romantic if not implied lol)
and maybe hand write my url? love you <3
Love you too <3 find your url handlettered here!
This starts off whumpy, but it does have a happy ending! For once! I think this is the first nice ending Hotchniss fic I've ever written, so everybody say "Thank you Raegan!" 1227 words, no proofreading, usual shebang that goes here.
15: "thank you." /" for what?" / "loving me." / "it's not difficult."
Trigger Warnings: canon-typical violence/events, blood mention, hospitals, trauma response, slight implication of self destructive behaviour right at the end
read on ao3!
"No," he says. Even before she's finished her sentence. It's a testament to just how well he knows her and her brain.
"You don't even know what I was going to say," she sighs. It's a stupid thing to say. Because she knows what he's rejecting. It's the exact plan she's about to suggest.
He raises an eyebrow, obviously not believing her. "Oh? Fine. What were you going to say?" He isn't trying to undermine her. He views her as his equal, always has. But he can't let her do this. Not now. It's too risky.
She rolls her eyes, knowing she's caught. "That I should go in to try and get the unsub to confess."
"And that's what I'm saying no to," he says, voice completely level. Too level. He's hiding his emotions. Well, hiding them more than usual. And she understands his fear. Really, she does, because she feels it every time he puts himself in danger. But they don't have any other options. Not if they're going to get the unsub.
"Aaron," she whispers.
He flinches away. "Don't. Not here. Not now. Please." His voice breaks on the last word, a small crack in his armour that only she is allowed to peek behind.
The sheriff looks between them, so close without even realising, and the rest of the team, who are watching them with a collective look of sad resignation. They all know how this is going to end. It won't be pretty, but it will end in one way and one way only.
"We don't have any other options. I'm the unsub's type. I'm the only one who can go in there and get close to him. You know that," she says, loud enough for everyone else to hear. She's right. He just doesn't want to admit it.
"There has to be another way," he says.
"There isn't," Emily snaps, with more force than intended.
Aaron looks down.
"She's right. If we want to catch the unsub without endangering a civilian, then that's the only way," Dave says. When Aaron glares, he just shrugs, like he already knows how this ends. In fairness, everyone does. Even Aaron. He's just not ready.
"So, are we all agreed? Agent Prentiss will get the unsub to confess. My officers will be there as back-up," the Sheriff says.
"Thank you," Derek chimes in, when it becomes clear nobody else is going to. They're all watching Aaron, who is rubbing his thumb against his forefinger and clenching his jaw. He leaves without another word. Emily sighs, but follows.
"What's really going on?" She asks, when she finds him in the other conference room. He's looking at their board, but as she approaches, she sees that he's not taking any of the information in. He's staring at it so his tears don't fall.
"I can't lose you as well. Not now," he whispers. He's fiddling. She looks down. There's a very faint tan line where the ring Haley slipped onto his finger all those years ago used to sit. Of course. How could she have forgotten? The anniversary of her death is coming up. Jack is coping fine for the moment, but Aaron clearly isn't.
"You're not going to. Not tonight. Not any time soon. I promise." She can't, not really, but Aaron smiles regardless. But that smile, like everything in this world, comes at a price.
The last thing she hears before her world goes black is her name being screamed by a man that has already lost too much.
The first thing she sees when her eyes open again is a light almost too bright to be real. "My head-" she groans, as her eyes finally adjust to the sudden change of environment.
"We know. You got hit. Hard enough for there to be blood," the doctor tells her.
"Oh. Wait, what happened?" She can't remember anything after twirling her hair to get the unsub to misjudge her.
"Unsub realised who you were and what you were up to. He ran, you followed, so did the rest of us. Then you got trapped in an alley and he hit you in the head with a brick that had fallen. One of the officers managed to tackle him as he left," Derek explains. He's sitting in the chair beside her bed, holding a cup of coffee.
"I thought I heard Hotch," she says.
Derek nods. "He ran after you as well. Sheriff was really pissed off that he gave us all away- because you were chasing the unsub, I don't think he ever clocked that the rest of us were following behind you. But we got the guy. Everyone's safe."
"I'm glad."
Derek can tell that she needs to have a conversation with Aaron. He always can. He's a good friend like that. So he simply smiles, stands, and kisses her forehead before leaving.
Whilst he's gone, the doctors ask Emily all of their usual questions and run the various tests required. It concerns her. Not that she's been asked to stay overnight, she knew that was happening as soon as she came round, but that Derek has been gone long enough for all of that to happen. He comes back shortly after the doctor leaves, and he gives Aaron a quick but comforting hug before going over the team.
"Hey sweetness," he says from the doorway. He looks terrible. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are red from tears.
"Oh my darling," she croaks, and he immediately goes over to her.
"How are you feeling?" He asks, kneeling by her side.
"I've been better. But I've also been worse, so it's fine."
He smiles.
"Aaron, I'm sorry."
"Don't. It's not your fault. I'm just glad you're alive and okay. When you collapsed- I couldn't hold it in. I just couldn't."
"I'm okay now though. We're all okay."
She carries on stroking his cheek until he nods. "I brought some of your favourite books from the hotel. Which one would you like me to read?"
"Did you bring Pride and Prejudice?" She asks.
Hotch looks stunned. "Well yes, but that's my favourite, not yours-"
"Read that to me."
"Are- are you sure?"
Emily smiles. "Of course I am." She rolls slightly, so Hotch can lay beside her. When he gets in, she rests her head on his shoulder, not even attempting to read the words over his shoulder.
When he reaches the end of the third page, she realises she needs to say something. She sits up, bumping his shoulder in the process, and he pauses. "Sweetness?"
"Thank you," she says.
"For what?" He asks, because it's not just about the fact that he's reading to her. It's more than that.
"Loving me."
"It's not difficult."
And he's not lying. Not in the slightest. She smiles and kisses his shoulder, then lies back down. As he reads, laying beside her like it's the most comfortable place in the world, she strokes his hair, smiling whenever he leans into the touch a little more.
Tomorrow they will talk. About how she endangered herself like that. About how all his fears worsen when it gets closer to an anniversary of something bad. About everything. Today, they are going to hold each other close, and be content with the fact that they are together, alive and in love.
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jawritter · 4 years ago
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Save Me
Summary: It’s hard to be the hero, especially when no one saves you. 
Warnings: Cannon level Dean Winchester depression. Mentions and hints of drug use, Alcohol abuse and excessive drinking, language, self loathing, maybe a hint of jealous!Dean? Dean’s in a very dark place in this fic, and it’s a tear jerker. 
Paring: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 2013
A/N: This fic was based on the song Save Me, by Jelly Roll. The lyrics are in Italics. This fic was also beta’d by @miss-nerd95! Thanks so much hun! Please do not copy my work! I hope you all enjoy this one! 
Want More? Check my Masterlist!!! Want even more? Become a patreon, and as little for two dollars a month you can get exclusive fics first!!
**MASTERLIST**       ***BECOME A PATREON***
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Somebody save me Me from myself I've spent so long Living in hell
Dean twisted the cap off of another bottle and downed the contents of the warm alcohol quick enough to make himself a little tipsy, and that alone felt like an accomplishment. He could hear Elieen and Sam in the room just down the hall from him, and honestly, it made him sick. 
It wasn't  that he disliked Elieen. In fact, he was the one that told Sam to go for it. She knew what they did, understood their lifestyle because she herself was a hunter and if Sam had a chance at being happy, who was he to tell him otherwise. It was more than Dean himself felt he’d ever have, or even deserve. 
He supposed this was the price of being the 'hero'. The guy who saved everyone's  ass. Why couldn't he be the one getting saved for once?
Eileen’s laughter cut through the silence  of the Bunker and drifted into Dean’s room where he pulled the covers up over his head to try and block  the sound. 
He was tired of living this way, but once he got drunk enough to not feel the lonely ache in his chest, he guessed it would stop mattering then. Then he could carry on with this shit-storm of a life he’d been reduced too. People thought Hell was lonely, turns out it was pretty much the same topside too.
They say my lifestyle is bad for my health It's the only thing that seems to help All of this drinking and smoking is hopeless but feel like it's all that I need Something inside of me is broken, I hold onto anything that sets me free
“Dean, you're getting too old to drink like that, man,” Sam said from his side of the table in the library where he and Eileen had taken up residence to look for another hunt. Dean hoped they’d fucking find one because he was tired of sitting here looking at them and just twiddle  his thumbs.
His liver desperately wanted him to find something to do with himself as well, not just keep on damaging it, and seemed to be screaming at him pretty loud this morning. 
“I’m fine, Sam. I quit the hard stuff a long time ago. I just need some sleep. Come get me if you guys come up with a hunt.” 
He got up and slid the chair back with more force than needed, but he hated it when Sam tried to butt in his life and tell him what he should and shouldn’t be doing. It’s easy to say shit like that when you don’t have to wake up to a cold bed every morning. 
Dean was just like everyone else. He craved companionship that didn’t come from some one night stand he picked up at a bar. He wanted a family, hell, he wanted to have kids someday. There goes that opportunity when you're in your forties and too damn broken to even get through the night without alcohol. 
“So much for being a good father figure,” Dean snorted to himself as he flopped down on his bed, letting the silence that stood in his room carve him deeper than any torturer from Hell could conjure up, or any wound his body had ever endured. 
Dean’s eyes drifted over to the almost empty bottle of Tennessee Whiskey on his nightstand, and he let out a huff. He would never tell Sam about the dime bag he kept in the hiding place under the floorboard of Baby for when things got really bad and he knew that he should stop doing this shit to himself, but it was the only relief he seemed to get sometimes. Today seemed like one of those days.
I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams
Dean picked up his phone that was lying next to him on the bed, and somehow he started to dial your number, just like he’d done a thousand times over the years. It felt like a lifetime since he’d last seen you, but he always kept your phone number and would even dial it on occasion to just hear you say “hello” before he would quickly hang up. 
But he couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t put you in the kind of danger his life seemed to be saturated in.  Besides there was no hope for someone like him, and if he thought he was fucked up years ago when he’d first meet you on that hunt in Wichita? Well, fuck if he wasn’t more in deep shit now than he’d ever been. 
Dean was sure you’d moved on by now anyway, he wasn’t going to waste your time on him. He was a lost cause. A shattered, broken shell of the former hunter when he was 28. Now it was all an act and a brave face until he could get stoned enough to get numb to not give a damn, because Dean fucking Winchester wasn’t allowed to feel. And as a result, he never did .
What if the night sky was missing the moon? And there were no shooting stars, to use wishing on you And all of my sorrows, I just wash them down It’s the only peace I've ever found. All of this drinking and smoking is hopeless but feel like it's all that I need Something inside of me is broken, I hold onto anything that sets me free
Dean didn't stop until he was tired of driving, but it was better than being in that Bunker with the couple fucking happy in love. He found himself in probably another state, but fuck if he even knew which one, they all looked the same after so many years on the road. A joint burning slowly in one hand, a bottle of cheap whiskey in another, and his back stretched out on Baby’s sleek, black hood. Nothing out there between him and all of his past years of regret but the stars, and the moon that shined out over the body of water he was parked in front of.
He was starting to feel the effects of his self-medication, and he knew he’d end up spending the night out here-which wasn’t much of a problem for him. At least it was quiet, peaceful even. That or he was just shit-faced enough to drown out the voices in his head that were screaming at him louder than usual that he would die alone, just like his father. Chasing his demons. 
If this little bit of pot and that little bit of alcohol gave him a little earlier out without having to actually pull the trigger? Well, fuck he’d take that too. He deserved nothing less than to die stoned, drunk, and probably in his own vomit. So much for being a hero. At this point though, he was pretty positive that heroes didn’t get saved. 
When the alcohol had run out and he had to lean against a tree to take a piss, he decided that he’d go crawl in the backseat and try to sleep it off so that he could play the hero one more day. That was, if he woke up
When he had flopped across the leather seats of the only real home he’d ever known, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number he was pretty sure he’d never forget. It rang and rang until he was just about to say fuck it, and hang up when you finally answered the phone. 
“Hello?”
Dean’s breath hitched in his throat, and he knew that he should've just hung up but for some reason, he couldn’t. He couldn’t stand the ache in his own chest any longer.
“Hello?” your voice said again as one silent tear slipped down his cheek onto the leather seat underneath him.
“Y/N, It’s Dean… I-uh, I’m sorry to call you so late.”
You could have heard a pin drop as your own heart picked up pace, your mind racing a thousand miles a minute. 
“Dean? Damn it’s been years. I thought you were dead!” you tell him in disbelief, sitting down on the concrete steps outside of your little house. His face still was a clear picture in your mind, the night he’d left you felt like it was yesterday as it was all those years ago. 
“Not dead yet, Sweetheart,”  Dean laughed almost humorlessly. It was too late to hang up now, so he could either lie to her, or he could tell the truth, he could tell her how lonely he really was and how much he regretted the day he’d left her all those years ago. “I’m-uh… I’m thinking about coming by and seeing you for a few days. It’s been a long time, and I just… God Y/N, I just really want to see you again.”
Your mouth fell open in shock. You could tell he’d been drinking by the slurred speech, but it was almost as if you could hear the cry for help in his voice. 
“You know you're always welcome here Dean. I told you years ago, and it still stands today, you can always come home.”
Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as the tears started to flow freely down his face now. “So you never moved on? No, Mr Right?” Dean tried to sound like he was joking, but honestly, he just felt like he sounded weak. Still, he had to know. 
“No Dean, I told you-it was you, and it would always be you,” you said, drying tears of your own away with the sleeve of your shirt. “I still love you, Dean, I always will. No matter how dangerous you say it is.”
Dean was about to hang up and tell you it was a mistake, but you had to go and say that. The internal battle was still raging inside of him, but dammit if he wasn’t tired of fighting it.
I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams I'm a lost cause Baby, don't waste your time on me I'm so damaged beyond repair Life has shattered my hopes and my dreams
You talked to Dean until he had passed out with the promise he’d see you in the morning. He told you over and over again that you should hang up on him, that you should rightfully tell him to fuck off, but you refused to. So now you stood pacing the front porch of the address you had texted to his phone last night. Praying, hoping that you’d see that beautiful black Impala that haunted your dreams pull down your driveway. 
Some of the things that he’d told you last night that he’d been through were horrific and you knew he wasn’t the same man he was all those years ago, but you also knew he still had the same soul. He saved you all those years ago, and now, it was your turn to save him. 
You didn’t breathe easily until you heard Baby’s engine purr and saw her coming down your street. It took all you had not to run to meet him halfway, and when he got out of the car, he said nothing, just wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight into him-like you were a lifeline, and if he let you go, he’d never surface again. Little did you know that it was exactly what he felt.
“You’re home Dean,” you told him through broken sobs of your own mixed with his. 
And he was. Finally, someone decided he might just be worth saving too, and he was glad that it was you.
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Forever Tags: @deanwanddamons @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278 @lyss-dw79 @magssteenkamp @lemondropirwin @squirrelnotsam @hobby27 @spnbaby-67 @mrsjenniferwinchester @defenderrosetyler @screechingartisancashbailiff @thecreatiivecorner  @aflamboyanceofgays @vicmc624 @busy-bee-angel-misska @justanotherwinchester @brilovesdeanwinchester @idksupernatural @lyarr24 @amandamdiehl @love-jackles-37-blog @miraclesoflove @waywardsistershy @emoryhemsworth @dean-winchesters-gardian-angel @softsebastian @tatted-trina6​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @hayleeharling​   @flamencodiva​ @coldmuffinbanditshoe​ @bxbyizzy​ @rain-dance-goblin​ @itmejado​ @supernatural3002​
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batarella · 4 years ago
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The Commander - Bucky’s Time (Arkham Knight x Reader x Winter Soldier)
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IT’S BUCKY BARNES MY DUUUUUUUDES. YES THE COMMANDER IS HOT STUFF AND THE BADDEST BITCH THERE IS WHICH ONLY MAKES SENSE THAT SHE GETS TO HAVE TWO OF THE HOTTEST MEN ALIVE. 
THIS IS SET IN THE TIME BETWEEN THE COMMANDER CHAPTER 1 AND CHAPTER 2. ALSO A VERY SINFUL FIC. PLS READ THE WARNINGS. (I’m not gonna mention about me going to hell cuz I’ve been running it the past few weeks lets be honest)
WORDS: 8124 (DID I HAVE TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS? FUCK YEAH) WARNINGS: VIOLENCE. FIREARMS. COMBAT. INTOXICATION. THREESOOOOOOOOOME (ORAL SEX BOTH or should I say all three RECEIVING, VAGINAL SEX, FINGERING, DOUBLE PENETRATION)
MASTERLIST
THE COMMANDER - MASTERLIST
-----
“You’re gonna love him. He’s gold.”
“Then why am I only hearing about him just now?”
“He was based in Sokovia.”
“Sokovia?”
Slade enthusiastically pushed the double doors open. Deathstroke, the Arkham Knight, and the Commander stormed down the empty halls, all the way down to the combat grounds where Slade said this new recruit was waiting.
“How’d you get him to join the militia?” Commander Y/N asked. Slade didn’t turn. “He came to Venezuela for some other shit. Asked him if he wanted the extra cash.”
“The amount this guy is asking for definitely isn’t extra cash,” the Knight’s eerie voice filtered.
“He was Hydra’s best man. What do you expect?”
The Commander’s eyes shot up. “HYDRA???”
At the sight of their superiors the men’s muffled voices faded out, and there were salutes, whispers, and shushes. Slade led them into the crowded combat grounds where several of her men were in the middle of sparring sessions. The Commander nodded at them to carry on.
And when they went further into a flock of soldiers circling a rather familiar figure standing in the middle, Commander Y/N felt her whole bodily system stiffen in cold ice. The long, ruffled hair. The metal arm. The machine gun strapped to his shoulder. There was no denying it.
“Barnes.”
He turned around.
Slade placed his arm on his shoulder. “Knight. Our newest recruit. The Winter Sold-“
“BUCKY?!”
Everyone turned their heads at the Commander. Bucky Barnes, the said prized soldier, lost his calm, brooding façade the minute he locked into Y/N’s eyes and shot up with the same astounded gape on his face. Bucky removed the mask covering his mouth. “Y/N???”
One. Two. Three painfully long seconds.
Not one person in that room dared to move a muscle.
“Uh,” Slade stepped in between them. “You folks know each other?”
The Commander ran her teeth through her lips and coughed out the itch in her neck. She looked away from everyone’s prying eyes.
Bucky did the same. “We, uh-“
“I was called into Sokovia about a year ago,” the Commander started. “Bucky- The Winter Soldier here needed a sniper to cover him on a few melee assassinations.”
“So Hydra hired Y/N,” Bucky continued. “We worked together.”
The Knight turned his visor at the Commander, who was too occupied biting back a smile as she stared at Bucky. He looked just as irresistibly rugged as the last time she saw him.
Slade managed a laugh. “Whatever. Knight, give him everything he wants. We don’t know how long he can stay but let’s just hope it’s after we finish in Gotham. I’ll leave you to it.” Then Deathstroke left.
Bucky held his AK with his other hand and extended his impressive metal arm at the Arkham Knight. He stepped in, head held high, then took it.
“The Winter Soldier.”
“That’s what they call me.”
Y/N looked at Bucky, at the Knight, then bit both her lips.
“Nice arm.”
“Mmm,” Bucky growled.
“Decent profile as well,” the Knight said. “Experienced. Heavily trained. Been here for the last few decades. You a metahuman?”
“Super soldier.” Bucky held his gun tighter, looking straight at the Knight’s visor. “Hydra’s serum.”
The Commander didn’t know if the Knight’s groan that followed was from being impressed or repulsed at that.
“Sergeant Whitman will show you to your quarters. We have a few weeks left here before we head to Gotham. Tomorrow, you show us what you got. Then I decide where to put you and your terms.”
“Slade and I already settled my price.”
“I think your price is preposterous.”
“I was told your militia needed a guy like me badly.”
“I’ve never even heard of you until today,” the Knight said.
“Either I get what Wilson promised me or I go.”
“I get the final say.”
Bucky stepped forward. “I’m not here to negotiate.”
“Neither am I.”
“For fuck’s sake,” The Commander pushed on the Knight’s armored chest. “Beckett. End the sparring. We’re done for the day.”
The Sergeant saluted Commander Y/N and went over to the soldiers at the grounds.
“Knight,” her voice lowered. “Be nice.”
“So you worked with the Commander?” the Knight crossed his arms.
“Commander, huh?” Bucky smiled at Y/N. She smiled back with a bite in her lip.
“For how long?”
“A week. In the deserted high mountains just outside of Sokovia,” she said in a weirdly high-pitched tone, as if she were sighing, yearning for the times.
“Deserted?”
“It was just us two,” Y/N said.
Bucky was still eyeing the Commander up and down with a quirk up his brow. “You really leading this army, Y/N?”
“Were you expecting any less?” she smirked.
“My god, you haven’t lost your touch, kitten-“
“KITTEN?!” The Knight stammered. Y/N side eyed the Knight and rolled her eyes, before grinning back at Bucky.
By then, almost everyone in the grounds had left. The Knight, glaring at the both of them behind his visor, stepped back and scoffed. “Just get him to his quarters.”
“Oh, I will…” she breathed, her eyes locked into Bucky’s. He strapped his gun to his back and reached over to Y/N. By then, they heard the doors slam closed and they were alone.
The Commander joyously yelped as she wrapped her arms around Bucky’s neck, letting him carry her up in the air in a tight bear hug. His metal arm was careful around her waist, and with a smile just as bright as hers, he laughed. Even as he placed her back down on the ground, Y/N continued to hold him close.
“God, I missed you.”
“Never thought I’d see you again.”
“You’re the one who left, jackass.”
“Sorry,” he ran his metal finger down her neck. “You know how it is-“
“I know,” she whispered. “Are you coming with us to Gotham?”
“Hope so. What’s with the Batman mock up?”
“The Arkham Knight. He put this all together,” she said. “Some revenge plot against Batman he won't say.”
He snorted. “Figures.”
“How…” she raised her arms in astonishment. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to remember me.”
“I got out of Hydra just after our mission. They didn’t get to brainwash out that very memorable week-“
“Memorable, huh?” she smiled. “You have to stay, Buck. The Militia definitely could use a guy like you.”
“Well,” he cupped her jaw, then his long hair fell to his cheeks the way that made her head spin in circles. “Now that I know you're here, I just might.”
She leaned in, inhaled that musky, rugged scent that sent her guts flying and her eyes glancing down at his lips. “Wanna hang out in my room?”
“You sure that Knight fella’s not gonna mind?”
“Mind?” she laughed.
“Come on, don’t hide it, kitten. You’re sleeping together.”
She punched his good arm and he chuckled. “Lower your fucking voice.”
“Shit,” he smirked. “Seems like you have a type.”
“We did it once. And we promised not to do it again.”
“Ah. At least I had you for a whole week-“
“Have I ever told you how hard it was firing a mile away from my target with you breathing down my neck?” she said.
“Kitten, I definitely wasn’t just breathing.”
Bucky traced his thumb down her lip, but Y/N pulled away. “My room. Not here.”
She stopped herself from holding his hand on the way back up to the quarters, especially when there were men around who could have seen them. Bucky was just as gorgeous as he had been. His big blue eyes, incredibly muscled build, his long, scruffy hair she still fantasized running her fingers through. And Though he wasn’t as tall as the Knight, he looked just as equally terrifying, menacing, intimidating,
And painfully hot.
They reached the Commander’s quarters and locked the door. The minute it was safe, Y/N pushed Bucky against the wall and kissed him as violently as she were beating him up. “Fuck, I missed this…”
They tore off each other’s armor. His metal arm, snaking up her back to trace the line of her spine, she let him grab onto her ass, then the back of her thighs, before hoisting her up around his hips.
She cried as her ass hit the table, and Bucky cleared everything on the surface. She threw her head back, legs spread wide, and let the brewing hotness in the air take over her core.
Fuck, did she miss that metal arm.
-----
One hundred men. The first batch out of a few others. They were lined up just beneath a string of trees and shade at the edge of a wide-open field, a few minutes away from the barracks where they’d fixed a training ground out of crates, barrels, and sacks stacked on one another. The day was bright, not a cloud watching from above. It was large enough to be the size of a football field, and usually they came here for shooting ranges and obstacle courses.
The Arkham Knight stood in the middle, arms tucked behind his back. The Commander was at his side standing straight and tall.
“If you are here, it means you’re not as well-trained as the others,” the Knight continued with his speech that had been going on for the last few minutes. “All of you should know that the alpha target isn’t the only threat to worry about. There will be thugs around Gotham. The GCPD. And you’re all gonna have to fight each other. After our demonstration, it will be you against everyone else. In batches of ten, you will fight in this field-“ the Knight pointed. “And the last man standing gets to move up a rank.
“New guy. Get over here.”
Bucky clenched his jaw, walked over from his place leaning against one of the tree trunks, then stood right beside the Commander. She smirked.
“It’s me versus the Commander versus the Winter Soldier. You can use your guns. Just make sure you keep away from the head.”
The most dangerous type of training session there was. But only if it were with anybody else than the three.
The Commander pulled out her AK from her back, pulled on the barrel while cocking her hip. Bucky licked his lips while staring at her and did the same with his own gun.
The Knight, noticing it all, screamed. “Get to it!”
“Good luck,” Bucky whispered into her ear.
The air was a smoky, earthy musk, one that calmed her nerves the way she needed them to with her eye dead focused onto the scope. A few minutes had passed, and still there was silence. The Commander walked into a pile of sacks and waited patiently for any whip of a sound.
She heard gun shots. A few yards away. The Commander hopped onto the pile and caught sight of the Knight just narrowly missing Bucky’s metal fist aiming for his head. She pointed her gun at them and fired at their legs.
They noticed in time, fleeing to cover at the racket her bullets were making flying everywhere in the field. She reloaded her gun, eye on her scope, then fired at the wooden cover she saw the Knight roll into. But he wasn’t there.
She turned to her left, and just as she saw Bucky aiming right at her, she rolled down the heaps of sacks and landed on her back. Sparing no time to pull herself up, she hid behind the pile and stretched her neck. The Commander laid her head back, listened for any more gunshots, and once she heard more, no longer aiming at her, she crawled out.
She made sure her back was covered, then continued maneuvering through the field. Following the sounds of the Knight’s guns, she crouched over and held tightly onto her AK.
She was sure she’ll catch sight of the Knight at just a sharp turn to her right, where a barrel was covering her just barely.
The gun fire stopped. He was reloading. Commander Y/N stepped out and opened fire.
Bucky had gone away, and it was just the Knight, taking cover at one of the crates. Just a split second after the Knight held out his gun and fired back. So she hid, holding the gun with just her one hand and blindly fired at the crate.
Except, she wasn’t exactly blind. Not with her.
At the sound of the Knight’s faint hiss, the Commander smirked.
More gun shots. Coming from her far right. Bucky was on top of the barrels and was opening fire at both her and the Knight. She rolled over to a cement block and reloaded what was left of her gun. The Knight, no longer where she left him, had gone. But Bucky was firing at a pile of sacks near her. He must be there in hiding.
But she couldn’t go after him. Not with Bucky on watch.
The Commander crawled under covers where the Winter Soldier wouldn’t be able to see her, moving so quietly he must’ve thought she hadn’t left at all. She reached his right. Far enough to be out of his line of sight.
She whistled at him, then fired at his metal arm. The bullets bounced off him but it wasn’t without flinching at the impact. The Commander hid behind a crate just as Bucky turned his attention to her and rolled his shoulder. “You're gonna regret that!”
“Sure!”
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Bullet after bullet. Bucky kept on his heightened stance, with Commander Y/N barely being able to get away from her cover. She managed to land a bullet or two on his arm again, but it only delayed him by a few seconds before he’d start firing again.
She peered over, ever so slightly just to see where he was, then the Commander saw the Arkham Knight creep over from behind him, landing a good punch right at Bucky’s face to send him toppling over to the ground.
Her AK was out of bullets. She had to throw it out. The Commander pulled out her two pistols, loaded them, then stepped out into the open.
She rolled on the ground just narrowly avoiding the Knight’s shots at her, firing a few of her own when she could. The Commander hid behind barrels. They were so close to each other. And it was impossible to run away now. The Knight started firing at Bucky, who was firing at her. She had one chance.
The Commander waited for that one moment where Bucky had to reload before running up the tallest pile of sacks standing between the two, vertically until she was up in the air, then she flipped over so fast, not a single bullet came close to her body. Her arms outstretched, her eyes making the quickest glances, she fired both guns.
Two shots. It was all it took. She managed to hit Bucky’s metal shoulder and the Knight’s ankle. They both hissed and stopped for the one split second she needed, then she fired at their hands. Both guns dropped to the grass.
When she got to the ground, she grabbed one of the sacks, threw it at Bucky, then used her leg to swipe at the Knight’s discarded gun and fling it across the field. Bucky was on the ground, and just as he stood up, his gun had been thrown away as well.
The Commander, the only one left armed, held her guns at both of them. The Arkham Knight on her left, the Winter Soldier on her right.
“I win,” she panted.
But, instead of holding their arms up to surrender, the Knight and Bucky looked at her, then at each other. She would have moved if she was expecting them to conspire.
Bucky was first to charge, but his metal hand blocked her incoming bullets at almost every direction she fired. The Knight took it as a chance to grab her wrist, hold it up in the air before she could fire. Then the Commander elbowed her way out of his grip. He squeezed on her hand, painfully so until she lost her hold on the gun, then the Knight threw it out of the way.
With just one gun left, she aimed it at the Knight, arms up to surrender.
Then Bucky grabbed her in a headlock and kneed her down until she could no longer stand. She grunted, but his fucking metal arm was like trying to move a cement wall off the ground. The Knight charged after her.
Then she used his brick-wall like body to hoist her legs up, pushing her feet against his armor so her boots eventually made their way up to the Knight’s visor. Locking her knees on his head, she head-butted Bucky until he released her from his grip. Her hands landed on the ground, then she flipped over to fling the Knight to the grass, landing on his head.
She won't last so long. Not without her guns. These men will beat her at combat into a bloody fucking pulp.
She dodged, rolled, and backed away before either of them could land a hit. She saw Bucky grab a sack with his one metal arm, then he flung it over to her, sending her flying until her back met a crate. “Fuck!”
“How’d that feel, kitten?!”
The Knight, his words angering him even more, charged after Bucky and pinned his arm down his throat, all the way until his back hit the pile of sacks. It burst beneath him and a cloud of dust started flying across the air.
Thankfully, Bucky had his mask on and the Knight had his visor.
The Knight continued to push down on his neck. Bucky choked, struggled for some air, then his leg came flying up until he kneed his stomach. He grabbed the Knight by the jaw, flipped them over until he was the one pinned to the wall, then threw his arm back.
The Knight barely dodged it, and his metal fist tore a hole through the sacks.
Fuck.
He kicked him off, then the two started throwing punches and kicks and everything they could at each other, Bucky barely being able to block almost every throw the Knight hit and the latter holding onto the last of his armor to endure his stronger punches.
Bucky grabbed him by the throat, but the Knight flipped over and kicked him in the face. Bucky’s body was thrown into the barrels and broke everything in its path.
He got up, cracking his neck, then stared the Knight down.
“You sure you're enhanced?” the Knight’s filtered voice growled.
“Oh, we’re just getting started.”
The Arkham Knight and the Winter Soldier charged after the other, dust parting as they epically ran, their arms thrown back.
Then they were both flying in the air as a barrel of gun powder exploded in between them.
Commander Y/N, smirking her face off as she stood at the highest point above the piles of crates, blew on the muzzle of an AK she found.
The Knight skidded across the ground, and Bucky spat a ball of dirt from his mouth. They crawled and hoisted themselves up with the crates.
She slid off to the floor, running before they could run up to her, then she threw her ammo-less gun to the grass and frantically searched for a place to hide.
Bucky. He ran to her front. The Commander stopped and swallowed. And when she turned around, the Knight was there, cracking his knuckles.
“This should be fun,” she said.
She threw her elbow at the Knight’s visor, lightly cracking it but not enough to have any sort of impact beneath, then Commander Y/N ducked just as Bucky threw his fist at her torso. She slid her leg at his knees, slightly toppling him over. Her back shot up, then she stepped onto a sack to give her the leverage she needed to fly up in the air, spin with her leg out and kick both their heads in one swift move.
Bucky, with his immense superhuman strength, grabbed her leg and flung her all the way to the sacks further dispersing the dust all around the air. She groaned as she hit the floor, rolled over before the Knight could land a kick, then her leg flew to his visor once again, gaining another crack. She felt Bucky come up behind her, so she ducked, grabbed the Knight by his back, then used him as a shield against the metal arm coming right for his chest.
Both the Knight and the Commander flew across the floor.
Before she could stand, throwing the Knight off her body, she saw her pistols on the ground not far from her.
“That fucking arm,” the Knight growled. He stood up, his fist going after Bucky’s head, only to be stopped stiff cold by his hand. The Knight groaned, arm shaking at his reluctance to pull away. Bucky kept holding his fist and eyed the Knight down, now being able to look at him in the eye with the visor’s cover faltering.
The Commander grabbed both their heads, slammed them against each other, then unlatched their fists on each other before either of them could move.
On and on, they waltzed. The Commander could only dodge and duck under Bucky’s arm knowing she couldn’t in any way match his strength, and in doing so, maneuvered those punches so they’d land on the Knight instead. In turn, she did the same to the Knight’s punches at Bucky. The Knight kept at her, trying to get hold of her, and managing to grab her into a headlock once or twice and pinning her to the ground.
Bucky grabbed the Knight by the neck, held him up in the air, then threw his whole body right at the Commander, who locked her legs around the Knight’s neck trying to dismantle his visor. The Knight purposely fell to the ground, further injuring Y/N, then in a swift move, she stood up, grabbed her guns from her holsters, and aimed at them both.
The Knight stood on his knees.
And Bucky on his feet, ready to swing his arm at the first one who moves. They paused.
For seconds, none of them moved.
The Commander smiled.
They heard cheers from the men outside the field, chanting their names like they would to an athlete in a game.
The Commander lowered her guns, wiped the sweat off her forehead and smugly spun the firearms around her fingers.
“Next time,” the Knight stood on his feet, then walked over to Y/N. “No more guns.”
“I do just fine without them.”
“Keep telling that to yourself, kitten-“
The Knight stepped in between her and Bucky. “She is your commander. Stop calling her that.”
“I call her whatever she wants me to call her.”
“You want another hit to the gut, jackass?”
“You can try-“
“I can shoot both of you in the head right now if you don’t stop.” The Commander held out both her guns again.
The two men kept their silence, backed away, then walked back out of the field with their heads down without failing to give each other that side glare.
The Knight went over to walk beside the Commander.
“Y/N-“
“Don’t even go there, you ass,” she snarled.
“He’s overstepping his fucking boundaries.”
She faked a laugh. “That’s the Winter Soldier. He’s just like me. He’s just like Deathstroke. And you have no idea just how much he’s exactly like you. And he has tons of experience over any of us in this fucking country. So if you want your militia to have better chances at actually taking over an entire goddamn city, I suggest you suck up your childish jealousy and get over it.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Shut up. We slept together. So what?”
“You talking about me or the hundred-year-old man?”
“Both,” the Commander glared at him, then turned over to walk by Bucky’s side. The Knight looked like he wanted to strangle everything, even a damn puppy.
“Alright,” she said to her men. “Who wants to go next?”
-----
Booze. She found a stash in the Knight’s room days ago and had brought over few into her quarters. Once or twice she sneaks a sip, especially on days like these. She laid on the foot of her bed, leaning against the mattress, and Bucky was right by her side with his own bottle stuck to his mouth like a baby’s pacifier.
“Do super soldiers even get drunk?” the Commander asked.
“The Hydra serum was a rip-off so it doesn’t give me the full effects. I get drunk. But only after four or five times any human person can possibly take,” he laughed. “But until now I barely remember anything other than my name anyway so everyday feels like I’m having a fucking hangover.”
“Being brainwashed must suck.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
She took a swig from her bottle, and her mind started to create that familiar buzzing fog that took off the pain in her joints greater than any painkiller she could take.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” she touched the tip of her bottle onto Bucky’s nose. “I was starting to get bored.”
“And stressed out. I remember how much you asked me to-“
The Commander bit on his ear, and Bucky laughed before pecking her lips.
“You drunk now?”
“Well,” he looked at the clock. “We’ve been at this for five hours now. So yeah, I think I am-HIC.”
Y/N grabbed his hair, pulled him to her side and started heavily making out with his booze-scented lips. He held her neck, her shoulders, then he trailed down her hips and squeezed as lightly as he could with his steel fingers pushing into her skin. She moaned, and now that she was out of her suit and in her bed clothes, Bucky teased under her waistband.
“Mmm,” she moaned against his lips. “Please-“
“Shh…”
The metal arm. The one thing she still dreamed about every night she could the past year. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head when Bucky reached under her panties, cupped her pussy like it was so delicately breakable, and started hovering the steel over her clit and folds. “Fuck…”
“Fucking miss this, kitten?”
“Yes…” she grabbed the mattress behind her, grinded onto the steel like it was a vibrator and felt the ripples into her core. Bucky, eyes red and obviously drunk, kissed her neck and collarbone and shifted so he was sitting in front of her. Y/N spread her legs wide and bit off a scream when Bucky teased her hole.
He started removing her shorts, taking her panties along with it. With the cold air fanning out her cunt, she got even wetter when Bucky leaned in raised her shirt to kiss all over her chest, then crouched over on the ground to kiss down her stomach and pelvis.
Bucky kept his metal hand on her wetness, lathering them all over, then his lips kissed down to her clit. He encircled his mouth around it, gently sucking as his hardened tongue flicked all over it. She screamed out his name, then Bucky inserted two fingers inside her. “Fuck!”
He kept going, mouth on her clit, fingers inside her pussy. The sweet, warm metal contrasting greatly against her flesh. She saw the same stars she always did every time she remembered how Bucky Barnes had given her the best cunninglingus in all of history. She shielded her mouth with her arm, biting into her skin.
BAM!
The door. Only one knock served as a warning, then a strong hand pried it open despite the lock. Bucky shot up and Y/N shielded her bottom with her arms.
The Arkham Knight, in nothing else but a red hoodie and jeans, leaned against the doorway with his own bottle of booze in hand. He didn’t flinch nor look even the slightest bit bothered at the sight before him, and instead rolled his eyes as the two scrambled to cover. He drank from his bottle.
“What the fuck!?”
“You took my booze.”
“Get out.”
“Give me my booze back.”
“Bucky drank it all up.”
Bucky leaned against the bed beside Y/N and snarled at the Knight, who glared back. Y/N pulled her shorts back up. “Don’t have to do that, kitten.”
“Stop fucking calling her kitten.”
“You wanna know why I call her that, asshole?”
“Enlighten me,” the Knight growled.
“’Cuz of the way she just mewls when I use this hand right here-“
“Trust me, I know what she fucking sounds like.”
“You did it with her once, jackass. You don’t know the half of it.”
“Just as I said,” Y/N groaned, pinching between her eyes. “I have an entire armory’s worth of guns stashed in that closet right there and I’m not fucking afraid to use them on either of you morons.”
They both scoffed.
The Knight looked just as drunk as the both of them. And despite Y/N telling him to go out, the Knight walked in, shut the door behind him, then made his way to her bed like he owned the place. He sat down and finished up his bottle, placing it on the ground, then collapsed on the mattress.
Y/N, incredibly horny and her head boiling beyond reason, turned her head over to Bucky.
“I really wanna fuck but this guy’s like a fucking boulder.”
“We can continue. Right here. Fuck that guy.”
“I can fucking hear you,” the Knight groaned, hand over his eyes.
“GOOD!” Bucky called out. “Come on…”
He started kissing Y/N’s neck, but she pushed him away. She’s seen the Knight like this a few times. And only her. Not many got to see his face at all. And when he was like this, hoodie over his head smelling like stale rainwater, she knew something went on. Y/N stood up, ruffling Bucky’s hair as he leaned against the mattress with his eyes closed, then walked over to stand in front of the Knight.
He took his arm off his head, eyed her with his eyes tightly squinted like she was too bright a light in the midst of complete darkness, then propped himself up his elbows. The Commander crossed her arms and took him in.
So hot…
The Knight, slowly, and with his head looking like it was about to topple away from his body, leaned over to Y/N and placed his arms over his knees so he could duck down. Y/N, without thinking much, took hold of his head and craned it up.
His eyes weren’t blank, but they weren’t so expressive either. She couldn’t tell what it was he was thinking, or feeling. But his skin felt burning hot under her touch. She took a step forward, still holding his head.
Then she kissed him.
It wasn’t like kissing Bucky. It never had been. He was rougher, so eager to take her and all of her for himself with the movements of his tongue. Bucky was softer and kinder, but all the more wanting.
And in so many ways, they were different, yet eerily the same. They were both, in the worst way possible, taken away from any sort of their humanity, twisted, hurt, bent, until they were no longer in that sane, human demeanor with so much antagonism to show for the world. Nothing but anger. Borderline villains. Brooding bad boys. Dark hair. Blue eyes.
Okay. Maybe she did have a type.
She breathed in, heavy deep breaths, then started to deepen the kiss into something so much more longing. The Knight had his hands on her waist, pulling her to the bed. And on her knees, she went with him, never leaving his lips. The Knight started to lean back, wanting to pull her with him.
But she broke the kiss and gasped as Bucky grabbed her from behind, metal arm around her torso. He kissed her neck, biting, sucking. Y/N leaned against his shoulder and grabbed onto his hair, pulling him to her lips.
And if she weren’t wrong, she swore she felt the Knight growl beneath his breath. He ended up taking his shirt off. They were probably eyeing each other down for all she cared. She kissed Bucky, moaning too hard when his good hand snaked up her shirt, pulling it up. She happily obliged.
When her shirt left her skin, and without a bra in sight, the Knight swooped in and took her lips in his before Bucky could do anything. Y/N started to inch forward, moving the Knight with her, then Bucky took his shirt off and moved over to the bed with them, on his knees, pressing his chest against Y/N’s back just as the Knight as pushing his chest against Y/N’s front.
Holy fuck.
The two hottest men in the fucking universe. And she was sandwiched between them.
Hooooly fuck.
She threw her head back, breathing, moaning inaudible cries. Bucky started for her shoulder licking all the way up her neck, and the Knight pulled on her waist to have at it with her chest, her tits, her nipples sticking out at the burning touches happening all around her. She turned her head back, kissed Bucky while moaning when the Knight slightly bit on her nipples.
She pulled away, grabbed the Knight so she could kiss him on the lips, then Bucky started reaching over her cunt with his metal hand, making her jolt and bite onto the Knight’s lip at the sting of the steel rubbing over her clit like a goddamn vibrator. He kissed her neck, and the Knight bit on her ear. She was on fire. She never felt so alive. Everything was hot. Sweaty. Deep, heavy breaths filing the otherwise silent air.
She pulled away from both of them. She was in control. She could tell with the look on their eyes glaring at the other and worshipping her, determined to make her feel better than the other one ever could. Y/N traced her finger on Bucky’s cheek. “Eat me out, Buck.”
“My pleasure.”
“And you,” she pulled on the Knight’s chest, smirking as he went with it. “I want your cock.”
The Knight grabbed the back of her neck, kissed her so hard she would have fallen over, but she pulled away so she could lie down, Bucky already kneeling in front of her, breath ghosting over her thighs. The Knight pulled down his pants, pulled out his incredible hard on, then positioned himself right beside Y/N’s head.
Bucky lapped at her achingly wet cunt, the tip of his firm tongue drawing hard circles around her clit and letting his drool add up to her wetness. His metal arm, she could feel resting on her stomach. Y/N looked up at the Knight, looking so desirably at her she could feel her skin burn. Her hand wrapped around his cock, pumping ever so slowly and letting her fingers brush against the tip.
Her other hand was on Bucky’s hair, pulling, then the metal arm now snaked down between her legs and she could feel the cold metal deliciously tickle at the throbbing wetness. She moaned, and to conceal them, she hallowed her mouth out and started sucking on the Knight’s dick. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
She was the only one fully naked. And yet, she felt so much power, surging through her veins at every stroke of Bucky’s fingers curl up inside her, at every suck on her clit, and at the Knight’s cock lodged in her throat, with half of it being held with her shivering palms. She pulled away to scream when Bucky switched over to let his tongue swirl inside her and his metal fingers rubbing her clit, while her hand still pumping the Knight’s cock. The latter ran a hand through her hair, his soft, human hand so hot against her flesh, and she kept his eyes on him as she moaned and filled her mouth up with his cock.
Faster. Faster. She was about to cum. So hard. She closed her eyes shut and made sure the Knight’s cock was still in her throat as the overpowering gushes of a pleasurable waterfall rained down every hot inch of her flesh. Over and over, like the incoming waves of the ocean continuously flowing. Her moans were concealed, but both men kept their eyes on her as she shook hard and gripped the sheets like her life depended on it.
The Knight didn’t even cum yet. She looked up at him, then at Bucky. She was far from being tired. It only made her want more. Fuck, why hasn’t she done this sooner.
Bucky reached over to kiss her, and she sat up, arms around his neck. He pulled her up until she was leaning into him, on her knees, then he unzipped his pants to let his cock spring free.
Then the Knight was against her back, hands on her ass. She started arching her back so much that her ass felt the Knight’s dick rubbing all across her skin while her tits were rubbing so nicely against Bucky’s chest.
She got on her hands and knees, the Knight pumping his cock with her slick while Bucky pulled her hair out of the way so she was facing directly at his cock. The Knight entered inside her first, the long, painfully delicious drag of his cock drawing the sweetest moans out her lips. Bucky leaned in and kissed her, hard, feeling her moans out with the violent swirling of her tongue. She grabbed onto the sheets, feeling her wetness drip down her thighs. And after a few good thrusts, letting her adjust to his size, Bucky pulled away to replace his lips with his twitching cock.
In. Out. In. Out. In either opening. In a sweet, sultry rhythm. Bucky licked his lips and thrusted into her mouth just as the Knight held onto her hips so harshly she knew she was about to bruise when the night ends. His hips snapped into her ass, in a set momentum that only he had the stamina to maintain (other than a super soldier, of course). It felt so good to be so filled up in either ends. With every pull from the Knight, her mouth dragged along Bucky’s cock with it, drawing moans and hisses from the both of them. This was all too overwhelming. The sight of them both. The water seeping through her eyes. How his fucking magical cock did wonders inside her in so many ways she’s never felt before. It was all so… so…
“Fuck!” she screamed, and already, she came. And unlike last time it came to her like one, giant blow to her body that almost whipped her out of her physicality. Everything went white, and all the clouded thoughts in whatever part of her mind they were hiding, it was all washed away for the instant. Every nerve ending made her shiver, and she stiffed. And the boys didn’t seem to notice, as they kept thrusting inside her still.
Y/N held her hand out, stopping them both. The Knight stopped thrusting and Bucky pulled his cock from her mouth. “Fuck, kitten, did you cum already?”
She fell face down onto the sheets, trying to remember her name.
“See,” the Knight said. “I did that.”
“Fuck you, no you didn’t.”
“Am I right, kitten?” the Knight stressed.
“Only ‘cuz I warmed her up, you ass.”
“You two,” she panted. “Shut up. I want you both inside me.”
“Fuck…” Bucky said.
“Holy shit,” the Knight breathed.
Y/N threw herself onto the mattress, on her side. Bucky laid facing her front and wasted no time to have her lips all to himself. The Knight crept up behind her and started sucking onto her neck. Y/N pulled away from Bucky, letting him bite onto her collarbone, then kissed the Knight with every last ounce of strength she had.
She held his jaw, biting his lip, then pulled away so she could look deeply into his eyes.
Bucky inserted his cock into her pussy, and she hissed at that while the Knight kissed her neck.
Then the Knight, his cock wet from her own juices, ever so slowly slipped into her asshole.
The screams she tried so hard to conceal, and failed to do so. Her leg hooked around Bucky, while her arm was around the Knight’s head. He gained his pace, at her pussy that had adjusted yet still fit him inside her so tightly that Bucky groaned with his lips on hers. The Knight, taking his sweet time at the new, foreign feeling of her ass, both for him and her, slowly started to thrust.
The two cocks, moving inside her in amazingly complimenting rhythms, she took turns in kissing either of them and moved her hips to match their movements. She could feel their cocks dragging against each other through the thin wall between them, at the spot that was so overly stimulated, at the feeling of being so filled up, she couldn’t possibly think of anything there was. She could only feel. The fullness. The overwhelming high that seemed to go on and on.
They must have been awfully hard and so at the edge by then, that it no longer took them as long to cum. Bucky came first, filling her up with so much of his cum that she could just feel it drip down along with her own juices. Then when he kept going, she felt the coil. The fast-burning whicker of a bomb already blown out so many times. The Knight came next, her ass practically leaking with his cum even with him still inside her, and for the third time that night, she came.
And fuck, just as she did, everything went white.
She passed out. For a good five minutes, she laid on her bed, panting without another word. The Knight was just as tired as she was, but with Bucky being a super soldier and all, he didn’t seem too bothered.
When she came back to her senses she sent both men out of her room before any of the militia army’s hundreds of men woke up before them.
-----
The Commander never felt so high up in the clouds and so down beneath the cold hard ground at the same time. Other than the horrible hangover that sent her mind practically elsewhere than the barracks, she wanted to hide at all the thoughts surging through her mind at the memories from the night that she somehow remembered almost every detail as if she weren’t drunk at all. If not, the hangover worsened and her face bubbled up into a deeply flushed red.
It was probably going to be the one thing she’ll think of the most the next time she needs something to get off too. But with the fucking Winter Soldier and the fucking Arkham Knight?
The Winter Soldier. And the Arkham Knight.
Well, she was one hell of a woman for having both of them, that was for sure.
Okay. So she didn’t have a single speck of regret.
But it didn’t make the hangover any better.
The Knight was with her at the meeting room, and the whole time Slade talked, neither of them seemed to listen. The Knight, even when he took this militia as seriously as his own life, when it occupied nothing else throughout his whole day and not another thought could overpower, had drunkenly engaged in a threesome last night and was now too stupidly ashamed and hungover to properly think.
“You two. Get some coffee. I’ll be out.” Deathstroke said as he left the room.
The Commander buried her face into her arms and the Knight took off his visor so he could rub his face with his palms.
Her head was burning, and for so long none of them talked nor moved a muscle. The Commander was the first to get up from her chair. “Where’s Bucky?”
“Your boyfriend wasn’t in his quarters this morning.”
She glared at the Knight, then went out the meeting room. Just as she did, Beckett opened the door and caught her just about to leave.
“Commander-“
“Where’s Bucky? The Winter Soldier? I want to talk to him.”
“That’s uh. That’s the thing, Commander.” Beckett licked his lips. “He got a call this morning and had to leave. Said he’ll only be taking forty thousand dollars for his five days here.”
“FORTY FUCKING WHAT-“ the Knight stammered. And the Commander glared back at him for making her headache even worse. She turned to Beckett. “When is he coming back?”
“He’s uh… He isn’t.”
The Commander shot up.
“He just… left?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did he leave a letter? Or a call? Anything?”
“No, sir. He just told me to tell you and the Knight. Deathstroke as well.”
Of course. Exactly like last time.
Bucky disappeared without so much as a call. This is all for fun, he once told her. A pastime. Release. Don’t think too much about it.
She knew he was a busy man with his own set of friends and enemies to work with.
But dammit, he could have at least called.
“Thank you, sergeant.”
Beckett left them, and the Commander was stuck standing near the door with her eyes locked onto the empty wall.
The Knight, unknown to her, watched her the whole time. Not a smirk. Not a smug little grin to go with it. He was as silent as her.
Nights after, the Commander laid on her bed, alone as she had been the past few days. She got under her covers and tried what she could to close her eyes and get the sleep she’s been needing for so long. But nothing.
Three knocks on her door.
She opened her eyes, then sat up against the headboard. “It’s unlocked.”
The Knight came in, with just a shirt and jeans on. He leaned against the doorway and the Commander rolled her eyes at him. “You come here to gloat?”
“About what?”
“Bucky,” she sighed.
“What do I have to gloat about?”
“Shut up, Knight.”
She looked away, arms in front of her, but the Knight kept looking at her and coughed. “May I come in?”
Y/N closed her eyes, not wanting to argue, and just nodded her head. He closed the door behind him and sat at the edge of her bed.
“You seem to be attached to him.”
“I was fond of him,” she chuckled. “Fond enough to believe something could possibly happen.”
“Really?”
“He’s a good guy. You don’t have to hate him.”
“I do. He’s practically me with chin-length hair and a metal arm.”
She laughed and laid her head against the wall. “He is.”
The Knight kicked his shoes off and laid on the bed next to her. He chose to stare at the same things she was staring. She noticed. Probably to get a glimpse of what went on in her head.
“I’m not in love with him, if that’s what you're thinking.”
He rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of thinking of that.”
“Good,” she sighed.
She wasn’t exactly heartbroken. At least, she didn’t think so. She always thought that the moment she was so hurt to the point of that organ tear into pieces, she’ll know it. This. This was practically an equivalent to a teenage crush, except it’s with a really hot guy she slept with a few times, who’s incredibly handsome, has a fucking metal arm, a super soldier. Fuck, he’s dreamy.
But love? Nah. She’d know. She wasn’t in love. Not with a super soldier. Not with a robotic limb. Which meant she wasn’t heartbroken.
And that day will come. Sooner or later. Probably with someone more human, someone she can imagine eating at a small diner with. She turned her head over to the Knight.
“What are you doing here?”
He bit his lips, head against the wall like hers, then smirked.
“I’m here so you wouldn’t drink yourself to sleep and forget you’re here on a job.”
She nudged his shoulder and rolled her eyes, and the Knight grunted a very faint, yet audible laugh. He caught her eyes.
She smiled at him ever so lightly, and even when he didn’t exactly smile back, she thought he was beautiful.
The Knight leaned in, kissed her so softly that it was far too different from any other kiss she’s shared with him. His scent. The one she’d long noticed and wanted to have a closer glimpse at. She pulled herself closer to him.
Laughing as the Knight moved her over on her back, she forgot about everything else there was.
----
and. well. You know what happens next ;) Also I’d like to give credit to the the thirsty hoes in the taglist below who helped me with this fic (most especially @offendedfishnoises, @idkmanicantenglish and @knightfall05x) ((knightfall suggested the intoxication part which was a huge help))
everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11 flowersgirl02 
186 notes · View notes
ruewrites · 4 years ago
Note
Asmo likes the use of the pact right? So far I’ve never seen solomon use it besides the time he summoned him once. I was thinking maybe you had enough ideas to write something about it 👀 maybe a 5+1 things (like “times Solomon used his pact with asmo”) or something if you’re up for it? I love your writing by the way I can’t wiat for chp 9!
5 Times Solomon Used His Pact With Asmo
AO3
Ship: Solomon/Asmo
Word Count: 2663
Warnings: None
A/N: Hi Anon! I hope you like this! I’m sorry it took me so long (this is also my first time doing a 5+1 fic), I wanted to getting it out sooner. I hope you liked WBT! Thank you so much for your request!
1
Asmo had always enjoyed the feeling that coursed through him due to their pact. Solomon’s magic sent a tingling sensation up his spine and a warmth all throughout his body, and Solomon’s power.  Well… His power was more than addictive. His Solomon was one of the most, if not the most, powerful sorcerers humanity had ever seen. He wasn’t called the wise one for nothing, and knowing how revered Solomon was caused pride to swell within Asmo’s chest.  Now every now and again they’d use their pact for less professional situations, but regardless Asmo loved it.
However, sometimes Asmo was a bit surprised when Solomon put their pact to work.
“Solomooon.”
Solomon’s head perked at the sound of Asmo’s whines. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as his boyfriend’s disgruntled form trudged through the underbrush. A few tiny scratches bloomed on his porcelain skin, his hair was messed up, and twigs and mud clung to his clothing.  Ah, perhaps he should have warned him, but Solomon’s excitement had gotten the better of him. 
“This is awful. There’s so many bugs! Why couldn’t that little plant you need be in a garden? Or maybe a nice little field of flowers?” he huffed, “Why does it have to be here in this revolting mess?”
A chuckle escaped Solomon as he went over to help Asmo maneuver through the unkempt path. Well, it wasn’t much of a path really, more like underbrush that had been crushed by something else before them. Asmo still didn’t seem too happy, but at least he was wearing closed toed shoes. Powerful demon or not, Solomon didn’t want Asmo hurting himself.
“I think it’s rather enchanting,” Solomon said, looking around them, “It’s untouched and full of secrets just waiting to be unlocked, as well as the herb I’m looking for.”
“Well, you should replant it back home. Where it’s easier to get to when you find it!” Asmo let out a screech as he slipped down into a puddle of mud below him. He blinked a few times and looked down at himself. Then his surprise started to morph. A screech echoed through the forest, scaring a few birds from their perches. “I’m covered in mud. This is disgusting! Solomon why do you even need this stupid herb? I wanna go home!” 
Something clicked in the deep recesses of Asmo’s mind snapping his head towards Solomon mid rant, and a shudder ran through his spine. Oh the tiny little tugs from their pact always felt nice, especially when he could feel Solomon’s power coursing through his veins.
Solomon was eye level with him now, “As soon as we find what I’m looking for, I promise you can have the nicest, warmest bath and soak for as long as you’d like.”
Asmo hesitated for a moment, “And bubbles?”
“All the bubbles your little heart could desire.”
“The nice kind.”
“If that’s what you’d like.”
“And hot tea from that cafe I like.”
Solomon nodded.
Finally, after a moment of thinking it over, Asmo smiled  and stood up. “Alright then! Let’s go find that little plant! And when we do, you’d better take some home to pot.”
**********
2
“Solomon how do you live like this?” Asmo huffed, putting yet another book in a pile, “Everything is so disorganized!” Mountains of different books and scrolls surrounded them.They’d barely made a dent in their work and Asmo was trying his best to stay on task. Well, at least things looked better than when Solomon had initially summoned him, but even that wasn’t saying much.
“Well it was organized,” Solomon started, “Then I needed to do my research and look for specific information and well-”  He gestured to the room around them. He hadn’t meant for everything to get this scattered, but he’d also needed multiple books open at once. Sure he could have just marked the pages he wanted and used one or two books at a time, but how productive was that. Plus it was a notification from Asmo on his DDD saying he wanted to do something that caused him to lose focus in the first place.  So why not use their pact to ‘hang out’ a little? He’d indulge Asmo after they finished, but for now they had a task to finish. 
He heard Asmo flop over with a soft thud, a groan leaving his lips. “Solomon this is going to take forever! Why do you have to have so many books? Where do you even manage to fit them all?”
“Sometimes the pursuit of knowledge requires sacrifice Asmo, and sometimes that sacrifice is space.” Solomon lifted his head to peer at Asmo behind the stack of books. He was lying on his back, book over his face, and silent. 
Slowly, and being careful to maneuver around the stacks of books, Solomon made his way over to Asmo and sat down with him, picking up the book on his face. Asmo made eye contact with him and crossed his arms. Solomon smiled and looked at the spine before placing it in the correct pile. “You know, it’s going to be harder to organize when your face is buried in a book.”
“And you know there are better ways of using our pact.”
“Oh? So you would have helped me out of the goodness of your heart then?”
Asmo let out a huff before sitting back up and grabbing another book, grumbling something quietly under his breath. “I thought we’d go clubbing or something, not organizing books,” he frowned, looking rather unamused. 
A low hum left Solomon as he nodded, eyes slowly drifting over towards his bookshelf. With a snap of his fingers, one of the piles flew into neat organized rows on the shelf.  Organizing the books still required him  to know which books were where, but he could put them on the shelves once they were already organized into nice neat piles. Without another word, he then plucked Asmo’s DDD from the floor much to the demon’s protest.
“Hey!” 
“Shhh.”
 Solomon tapped on the device for a few minutes before snapping a picture. “See? Look how wonderful you look with this backdrop,” he said, bending over to show Asmo, “So, even if you don’t think of this as fun, as least you still look lovely right?” 
Asmo took his DDD and tilted his head from side to side. He furrowed his brow and bit his lip, “Well, I do look good. Can you take more?”
“Of course! When do I ever forget to reward you for a job well done?”
**********
3
Asmo looked nice. Incredibly nice. He was practically glowing in the dim lights of the club. But right now, Solomon needed complete focus. Well, maybe he didn’t, but he wanted to make sure he looked professional. They were sitting in a dingy, little, isolated corner. Asmo’s eyes kept slinking over to the bar, and tiny shudders would overtake him every now and again as Solomon’s power ran through him. It was so hard to behave in this atmosphere, the only thing keeping him in place was the pact. But Solomon would make it worth it, he always made it worth it. 
“They’re here,” Solomon said under his breath, eyes shifting towards the doorway where two figured stepped through the doorway and looked in thor direction. He glanced back towards Asmo and nodded, “You know what to do.”
“Well! Looks like ya brought a pretty little companion with ya,” the first man chuckled, nodding towards Asmo. Asmo leaned forward on the table and batted his lashes slowly up at their guests.  
“I promised we’d go out,” Solomon smiled, “Since I was coming here anyways, I figured I could kill two birds with one stone. Now. Do you have what I came here for?”
The first nodded to his partner with a smirk. Carefully, the other reached into his pocket and put a small box on the table. With nimble fingers, Solomon slowly opened the box. A soft blue light gently coated a small piece of their corner. The little stone inside was exactly what Solomon needed, it would make his latest spell extremely successful. 
“Now, our money-”
“Oh Solomon!” Asmo squealed, cutting off the man on the other side of the table, “You didn’t tell me it would be so pretty! It’s gorgeous!” His head turned to the two men on the other side of the table. Everything was in motion now, and Solomon had to stop himself from smiling. Oh it was such a wonderful thing that not everyone in the human realm knew of Asmodeus, especially those who didn’t deal in magic.
Asmo’s eyes were sparkling as he leaned over the table. “Why don’t you just give it to us? I know it’ll be safe in my Solomon’s hands. I promise!”
The man let out a guffaw and shook his head. “Ah, now that’s cute. Listen, I don’t know why you guys want this weird ass rock, but I ain’t about to give away something this nice for-”
Solomon couldn’t help but smile as he watched the man’s eyes meet with Asmo’s. That was when he knew this was a done deal. As Asmo worked his silver tongue, Solomon slipped the gemstone into his pocket. One thing was for sure, Solomon wasn’t going to have to pay the full price for their little exchange.
**********
4
Asmo was radiating with power. Solomon swore he could see his eyes glowing. Not to mention Asmo seemed to really be getting a high off of Solomon’s power. Sure Solomon noticed the little shudder that ran through him or the occasional flutter of his wings whenever he used their pact,  but this amount seemed to consume all of him. His hips swayed in a rather cocky manner as he circled the aggressor, wings flared, and sharp teeth glinting. Solomon swore that he and Asmo were in unison with each other, their breathing and heartbeats synced up.
Hands on his hips, Asmo turned his head to the side ever so slightly and cocked an eyebrow at Solomon. He was asking for permission. Not that he needed it, Asmo could very well start whenever he wanted. But this was a game. They were playing with the giant beasty in front of them, it’s claws bared and teeth gleaming. It’s fur was raised and bristled, eyes alive with bloodlust. Oh it was exciting.
Solomon lifted his hand ever so slightly, and Asmo moved. The beast tried to swat at the demon who quickly jumped out of the way. 
When he landed he turned back to look at Solomon. “Oh darling, stop teasing,” he purred, “Let me have it.”
“Oh? You say I’m teasing?” Solomon chuckled, nearly avoiding the beast’s thrashing tail.
“You always tease me. You’re so mean to me you know-”
“Do I now? Well, perhaps if you ask me nicely-”
“Please Solomon?”
They locked eyes once more and Solomon saw a shudder of anticipation wrack Asmo’s body. Slowly, he brought his fingers together and snapped. Asmo’s wings immediately flared out, his aura completely took over the space they were in. Solomon found himself completely in awe of Asmo as he turned back towards the beast and leapt into combat. 
As Solomon watched as Asmo slashed and thrashed, cutting and tearing his way through their opponent, he couldn’t help but look forward to the aftermath. When Asmo came down from the high, when his eyes were soft and completely blissed out and he wanted nothing more than to lay in the crop of Solomon’s arm with the laziest smile on his face. In the meantime, he would wait in the shadow just in case Asmo needed him. He doubted it, but he stayed all the same.
**********.
5
Solomon’s arms tightened around Asmo as soon as he felt him move. He knew it was morning. He could picture the bright sunlight seeping in through his window without opening his eyes. His face became buried in Asmo’s back as his demon whined and tried to squirm out of his arms.
“Solomon,” he yawned, “I have to get ready.”
Solomon’s silver hair tickled the back of Asmo’s neck as he shook his head. Cold fingers slipped beneath Asmo’s shirt where warm skin awaited him. He heard Asmo let out a tiny yelp at the contact as he tried to squirm out of his arms. Asmo kept him warm at night and was a rather nice initiative when it came to getting away from his research and slipping into bed at night. He didn’t want to let him go, he wanted to keep him in bed for another hour or two. He wanted to keep Asmo in his arms until the need for his morning caffeine fix inevitably called to him. 
He’d never been a morning person and never understood how Asmo could get up so early.
“Solomon,” Asmo tried to sit up, only to be dragged back down to bed. A sigh escaped him and he struggled to prop himself up on his elbow and craned his neck to look at Solomon, “Darling, I’ve already stayed ten minuted past my alarm.”
“You’re not going anywhere today,” Solomon yawned, his voice barely audible due to his mumbling.
“Dear-”
“Stay.”
Asmo gasped as the familiar tingle of Solomon’s magic trickled through him. It was weaker than normal. Instead of the strong sensation that usually coursed through him, this one felt more like a whisper or a gentle caress. However, it was not any less addictive. 
Slowly, he relaxed back down where slow kisses awaited him. As Solomon’s arms tightened around him, Asmo closed his eyes once more. “You owe me,” he murmured, although he wasn’t entirely sure he would hold Solomon to that. His human seemed so content, Asmo couldn’t help but wonder if he entirely meant to use their pact.
**********
+1
It was a quiet day. Birds chirped outside, leaves shuddered in the wind, and the sun bathed the world in her soft glow. The smell of coffee bathed the living room as it drifted from the kitchen. Solomon sat himself next to Asmo, mug in hand. Then his eyes started to wonder. It was hard not to admire Asmo. He was wonderful, more than wonderful. Slowly, Solomon became lost in the silence, in the beauty of the moment. Of course Asmo looked stunning bathed in the soft glow of the Devildom’s moon, but there was a different type of beauty when it came to the earth’s sunlight. 
Asmo shuddered and looked towards Solomon. A lazy smile stretched across his face. It was a wonderful feeling, Solomon’s magic. 
“Yes?” 
Solomon blinked, finally seeming to come out of his daze. “What?” he asked, his mind not fully caught up with him yet. 
Asmo laughed. It was light and lilting and a wonderful thing to hear ringing throughout the house. “I can feel you dear. If you’re going to use our pact, I would appreciate you giving me the order instead of teetering on the edge,” he said. He winked at Solomon before going to get another cup of coffee. 
Blushing ever so slightly, Solomon quickly got up to follow after him. Asmo was smirking by the time Solomon turned him around. He was pushed up against the counter ever so slightly, faces inches apart, the tug of Solomon’s magic becoming undeniable. 
This was a request, one which Asmo was more than happy to oblige once their lips connected. “You can just kiss me you know instead of just standing there,” he chuckled once they parted, “I can feel your longing you know.”
“What can I say? It’s so easy to get lost in you,” Solomon murmured, leaning forward once more. When they connected, Solomon’s magic prickled across Asmo’s skin. Asmo ‘s hands tightened around Solomon’s neck, and he wasn’t entirely sure if he was getting drunk off of his magic or his lips. But in the end, it didn’t really matter which it was.
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zevlors-tail · 4 years ago
Text
Lonely With You
Pairing: ProHero!Izuku x GN ProHero!Reader
Warnings: Self doubt, self deprecating thoughts/words, cursing, reader is very angry in the beginning and throws something if that’s a trigger for anyone (doesn’t throw it directly at anything or anything in particular), lots of crying on reader’s part, song fic, tooth rotting fluff at the end. <3
A/N: Song fic! Sports by Beach Bunny. I said I couldn’t write shit but here we are. I just one shotted this thing in the span of like 3 hours and in 3 more hours, I have to go into work with no sleep. :’) But really it’s fine bc I had motivation and I DID THE THING. I wrote something I kind of liked! I am obsessed with this song right now, so suffer with me I guess.
The second you stormed into the house and slammed the door shut behind you, Izuku could tell something was off. Sure, you had your bad days, but somehow this was different.
“Hi, love! How was your da-” Before he could even finish, you cut him off with an angry look and a short response.
“Fucking awful. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Izuku knew better than to take your short response personally, though he would be lying if he said it didn’t irk him in the slightest. However, you didn’t curse often, and using the “F” word usually meant you were at your wits end with whatever situation you were dealing with. He watched you as you strode past the kitchen with blind rage and threw down your headpiece to your hero costume. A piece of it actually busted off from how hard you had chucked it across the room, nearly missing his eye as it flew past him and making him visibly flinch. 
Upon seeing his reaction, you immediately stopped in your tracks and snapped out of your fit of anger, concern for your partner taking over you instead. “Shit-! Izu, I’m so sorry, are you alright!?” Tears welled in your eyes as you panicked and checked his face over for any collateral damage, and when you could find none, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“I’m fine, Y/N. Are...you okay? I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, but you look really...upset.” He struggled to find the right words for a moment. You looked upset, sure, but it was more than that. There was a foreign look in your eyes he hadn’t seen before, something heavy and dark lurking behind your usually bright orbs. His heart couldn’t help but ache for the look you gave him.
If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you. Tell me baby, why do you seem so blue?
You broke down in tears within seconds, cries of frustration and anguish clawing their way up from your ribcage to your throat. Today had drained you for all your worth and made you feel utterly exhausted. But if you were being honest, this had been going on much longer than just a day. It just so happened that today’s events had been the last straw for you and left you feeling defeated. Months of self doubt and anxieties were finally catching up to you, and now you were paying the price.
Izuku wrapped his arms around you tightly and held your head to his chest as you hiccuped. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He nuzzled his face into your hair before pressing a sweet kiss to your crown, his hand sliding to your back to rub comforting circles.
“I’m no good,” you managed between sobs. “I’m a terrible hero, and I should just quit while I’m ahead. I’ll never amount to anything useful. All I do is get in the way and cause problems for others!” You continued to cry while Izuku let you vent, although it took everything he had in him not to interject that all of those things couldn’t be further from the truth.
Why are we so complicated? Maybe love is overrated...
“I’m a failure. I failed my mission and if it wasn’t for Uravity...” You let out a strangled cry as you admitted what was weighing you down so heavily. “They almost died! They almost died, and it would have been all my fault! If I had just pushed myself harder, if I had done more, then- then- then none of this would have happened!” 
“Oh, love...no.”
“I should just do everyone a favor and stop being a Pro. My manager did always say I was better as a sidekick, anyway,” you laughed bitterly at the memory, distracted only for a moment before returning to crying, albeit a little quieter. “I’m ready to give up. Everything I do is wrong... I don’t think I’m cut out for this anymore.”
I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis courts.
Izuku sighed softly before cupping your face in his hands and gazing intently at you. “Y/N Y/L/N, you are not a failure. You are the light of my life and the best thing to have ever happened to me. Do you know that?”
You hesitated a minute while you sniffled and rubbed at your eyes. “Are you sure about that? Because I feel like I’m failing at everything... At being a hero, at being a friend, and at being your partner. I’ve been so stressed out lately that I’ve barely been able to pay attention to you. I’m so sorry, Izuku...” Fresh tears pooled at the corners of your eyes as your self doubt ate at you.
Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure.
“You didn’t let me finish.” 
“Ah, I’m sorry-”
“Nope! No more apologizing, especially when you didn’t do anything wrong.” A small smile found it’s way to his lips as he spoke, “I’ve watched you grow from a student in the hero course with me into the wonderful person and amazing hero you are now, and I want you to know I’m proud of who you’ve become. You’ve been nothing but nice to Uraraka, Iida, and Todoroki, and you’ve done everything you can to support me and be there for me when I need you to be. You cheered me on and pushed me to do better when I felt like giving in so many times. Without you, I wouldn’t be the hero I am today.”
“That’s really flattering, but I think All Might was mostly responsible for making you the hero you are now.”
Come on to me, come on to me...I need more!
Izuku laughed a little as you smiled at your comment, though the pain remained behind your eyes still and his gaze was just as intense as before. He quickly regained composure and continued. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit, love. I was watching the live feed from home while you were on your mission, and from one hero to another, you did all you could with the hand you were dealt in that situation. You can’t place unnecessary blame on yourself for something that’s not your fault. You weren’t a hinder to them, and you didn’t cause them any further problems. I mean, unless you were the one who set the building on fire, but that’s not likely, right?” His teasing tone was meant to lighten the situation, but it seemed to have no affect against the worry and anxiety radiating from you. “Y/N.”
“Hm?” At some point you realized you had zoned out and starting daydreaming about all the possible ways the situation could have gone wrong. Izuku’s voice pulled you back to reality and away from your twisted reverie.
“I love you. It’s okay to feel upset and angry about today, about yesterday, about last month- and especially about that comment your manager made. Which, by the way, we need a new manager for you now, but that’s not the point. I want you to know that I will always be here to support and love you like you’ve supported and loved me. Your friends love you and support you also, you know. Uraraka was just asking me about you yesterday, actually...said you looked a little blue. Oh, and Todoroki wanted me to pass on a message. Something about an angry pomeranian? Are you two making fun of Kaachan again?” He gave you a pointed look.
“Well...yes and no?” You sheepishly grinned and laughed while he just rolled his eyes.
“Anyways, the point I’m trying to make is that you are worth so much more than you think. Your friends love you, I love you, and your fans also love you. You’re more than just a sidekick. You’re an amazing hero and an even better partner to me, and you are not and will never be a failure at any point in time. You did all you could to save those people, and if you hadn’t stepped in when you did, Uravity might not have been able to get to them after all. If you don’t want to be a hero anymore, then of course I’ll support you no matter what, but that’s not really what you want to do, is it?”
Deep down, you knew Izuku was right. There was no way you could step down from being a hero; you loved helping people almost as much as he did. Being a hero was just as much a part of you as your nose or your eyes or your lips. It was a second nature, something you couldn’t just give up on so easily.
“I want to help people and be a hero. I just...lately, I just don’t feel like I’m good enough.” 
You sounded so sad and dejected still, and it absolutely broke his heart. Izuku silently promised himself to do everything in his power to make you believe in yourself again before racking his brain for ideas on how to further cheer you up. When you had bad days, there were certain things he did to comfort you and help you relax, but this seemed to be a bit more serious, and thus, required a more elaborate solution than the normal hot bath and back massage. Maybe...yes, that was perfect! It probably wouldn’t fix the problem long term, but it would be a good start.
“You are good enough, and I will always be here to remind you of that.” He leaned in and gave you a soft kiss. “Come on, let’s go relax in bed. I’ll even give you a ride there if you want.”
Your eyes immediately lit up as he turned around and crouched down so you could climb on to his back. As goofy as he was, you absolutely adored him. “Yes! You’re the best!” You squealed as he lifted you up with ease and locked his arms around the back of your legs to keep you nice and secure while he strode to the bedroom. Once there, he set you down on the bed before putting his plan into motion.
At the foot of your bed, you had a night sky projector that would cast the image of stars and planets onto your ceiling. Izuku had gotten it for you for your last birthday, and you loved it dearly. It made you feel content and relaxed when you were restless. Often times, you used it while you were in the bath or right before bed when you were having a rough night. It was perfect for occasions like this. Choosing the setting with the purple colored lights, Izuku powered it on and the two of you watched as your bedroom lit up all over. It was like you were really in space.
He made his way back to bed where you were currently snuggling into the giant comforter you both shared, a blissful smile on his face at the sight of you. You seemed to be feeling better already; you cuddled up to him as the little spoon as soon as he slid under the covers with you. He made sure to find a comfortable position for the both of you, and with the ambience set, there was only one last thing to do.
“If you feel broken, promise I won’t break your heart. If you shatter, I won’t let you fall apart. Why are we so complicated? Love’s a word I’ve always hated...”
You listened to him sing softly, the words falling from his lips effortlessly as he serenaded you with your favorite melody.
“I’m tired of waiting! I was never good at sports; save the games for the girls on the tennis court. Say you need me, but lately you feel unsure. Come on to me, come on to me, I need more...”
You closed your eyes and slowly drifted away from your worries as he sang. If every night could end like this, then maybe everything would be okay after all.
“It always feel like I need more... Jesus Christ, you’re so confusing! If we keep score, bet my money that I’m losing...”
“I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“No, I love you more.”
You felt his laugh reverberate through his chest as he snuggled closer.
“Go to bed, Y/N.”
“Mmn...”
“If you feel lonely, I could be lonely with you... Tell me, baby, why do you seem so blue?”
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mickeymouse-moshpit · 4 years ago
Text
street lights, people
A/N: Hello, kind readers of this fic that I have taken entirely too long to update. I’m so sorry for the wait! And I also have to apologize because there is a whole first part of this that is stored on my computer, which is currently in the mail for repairs. I will post that part as well once it’s back, just please hold on and know that 1) there’s definitely context to being on Fennec’s bike in it and 2) there will be spicy things in the next part. Anyway, uh, if there’s typos I’m very sorry, and enjoy!
Description: Fennec and peds!Reader go on a date
Warnings: Some brief verbal harassment, brief description of dissociating, a little angst if you squint hard enough, Fennec and peds!Reader doing their thing 
Rating: T
Word count: 2.7K
January 24th 
Read part one here
You followed her out and down the lined path, hands sitting in the pockets of your jacket to keep warm. She threaded her arm through yours, and led you down the street to a book shop of all places.
“I remembered you telling me about that new series you wanted to read, something about gay witches? And you’re always talking about how much you want to go to the bookstore but you never do. So, go browse. I want to see what your process looks like.”
“Th—that’s really thoughtful. I don’t know that I really have a true process, but yeah let’s go look!” You opened the door for her, a light going on inside you as you got your first waft of bookstore smell: the paper, the ink. You got the first wave of the noise: the low music playing in the background, the people there talking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out any conversations happening, could barely hear that there were lyrics in the music. You stopped for a moment, scanning the layout of the room. Your eyes landed first on the display of bookmarks and postcards, making a mental note to get one or two of each to remember this little town so you could find it one day. But then your train of thought halted: could you come here alone?
Best not to dwell.
Your eyes resumed their scanning, noting the different sections. You wandered to the right, letting your gaze drift over the painting beside the door. It was line art of two bodies intertwined, splashed with color to resemble a galaxy where they met. The notecard below it gave the title and artist’s name. And a price. You were struck by how nice it would look on your art wall. But that was for another day.
You started your first pass through the stacks, letting your eyes skate over the spines of the books, pausing to read the note cards when they gave a recommendation from one of the workers. Your fingers started to take on a mind of their own, catching on books here and there, bringing them out for you to investigate. Every couple of them, you would open to the first page, let the author’s words try to entice you. You put most of them back, but a green paperback one with a bent cover stayed behind. You held it close as you continued on, pacing with no purpose at all. If someone didn’t know you, they would think you had a system, but really you were just letting yourself be on autopilot. That is, until you got to the section that housed the series you had read about and wanted.
“This is it!” You hoped your whisper would convey your excitement to Fennec. You had been watching book recommendation videos and this series had come up, promising both a love story and adventure. “I hope th—they do! They’ve got both!”
You plucked both the paperback and hardcover from the shelves, adding them to your little stash. Your small smile would not leave your face.
Fennec watched as you dragged yourself away from the section, mentally patting herself on the back for this idea. You looked so happy, at peace. If she was a part of that? She would consider herself both clever and immensely lucky. As she followed you back to one of the sections you had drifted through, she watched your perusing turn into a hunt. You furrowed your brow as you sank down to kneel and scan for what she wasn’t quite sure. She pulled two more books from the shelf.
“Have you read this one?” She held up a copy of a book called Circe.
“No, but someone at work was talking about it the other day.” She hoped you wouldn’t be disappointed, and wasn’t disappointed when you slid the book back into its place with a mischievous look. Fennec’s mind went straight into the gutter for a moment, imagining you in a very different situation but with the same look.
“Good, you’ll borrow my copy.” There was no arguing, it was a fact. She would.
You stood up again, still holding onto the other book. You were off again, and while she thought you clutching four books to your chest was possibly the cutest thing she had ever seen, you were going to drop one if you kept getting distracted. When you stopped again, she held her hands out.
“Here, let me carry them. You use your hands to browse.”
You nodded once and sank down again, grabbing one of the recommended titles and popping up again. You paused, before setting it on the pile Fennec was holding, warmth building in your face as she gave you one of her smiles.
You set off with one more stop in mind. The waiting room library at your office was lacking in chapter books as of late. You let your feet carry you to the children’s section.
“What are we doing here? I didn’t take you for the Warrior Cats type. “
“The selection of chapter books in my waiting room is looking a little sparse here lately. I want to see what the kids are into so I can update the wishlist.”
Fennec looked at you like you had suddenly turned purple with polka dots and sprouted antennae.
“I have a bookshelf in the waiting room, and I always make it clear to kids and parents that the books on it are meant to be read, cherished, read again, both while waiting and when they go home, with no expectation of return. The Little Golden Books usually do come back, just like most of the other books meant for the teeny-tinies. The chapter books get sparse and don’t tend to come back, but I like it that way. It means I’ve got another reader who gets to learn about the magic of words.”
“But where do the books come from?”
“Well, at first it was just me. There were some parents who made it very clear when I mentioned the shelf that they were perfectly capable of providing their kids with books and how dare I assume otherwise. There were others that you could tell were extremely grateful. There were also a few that had a problem with it but not for any good reason but I’m sure you know what kind of parents I’m getting at.”
She did.
“Then one day I was in the little shop in town and one of the little ones who had started on chapter books saw me and ran up, telling me all about how she had saved her allowance and she was able to get the sequel to the book she had gotten from me. The owner of the shop heard it, and when I went to buy the book I had picked out along with some chapter books for the waiting room, he told me he would let me start a wishlist and he would put it by the register for people to see and maybe buy one or two.”
“Do you usually get what you ask for?”
“It depends on the time of year. During the holidays people get more generous so it’s time to update the list. Hence the reading castle.” You gestured to the structure before you, an alcove that had a castle facade and was filled with still more books. “And the wall of chapter books.”
Before she could formulate a response, you had pulled out your phone and started making a list. Fennec watched you with an emotion she wasn’t sure how to name. The earnest way you took on your task had her pulling out her own phone while you weren’t watching to send a message to the garage group chat. When you had finished, you brushed a hand over her shoulder as you walked by.
You wandered to your last stop: the display at the front. You picked out a pack of bookmarks that were little magnetic trees before turning your attention to the display of postcards. You chose one that was a picture of the gazebo in the middle of town at night, surrounded by twinkle lights with “wish you were here” in small text at the bottom.
You walked up to the register and Fennec plopped your pile of finds on the counter.
“Did you find everything you were looking for?” The older salesperson behind the register had half a smirk on his face as he queried you. “I haven’t seen someone quite as methodical as you, even covered the section for children.”
You weren’t sure if the sarcastic tone was real or meant as a lighthearted joke, but either way you felt your cheeks warm again, and not in a good way. You wondered for a moment if the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You felt Fennec’s arm wrap its way around your torso again as the salesperson started ringing up the books.
“Being thorough is one of the best things about her. And this is just me, but I think it would be kind of nice if my kid’s pediatrician knew enough about what their media looked like to be able to talk to them at their level about things other than their health.”
“Oh so she’s a big kid is what you’re saying? What, does she play with dolls, or are toys more for the bedroom?” That definitely wasn’t meant in a kind way.
Fennec’s arm tightened around you before you got the chance to just slip away and out the door, as if she knew that was something you might do.
“I would stop talking about them if I were you.” Her voice was low, had taken on a dangerous edge that matched what others saw in her leather jacket.
He got the hint, hurrying up with the transaction. When the final total came up, you reached into your pocket, not really feeling anything for that moment or registering the number that flashed in your general direction. Before you could get your card liberated, Fennec was already sliding hers into the chip reader. You wanted to protest, wanted to tell her it was too much, but the interaction was a sea witch that had stolen your voice and you could only look on as the books and other small items were wrapped and put into a bag and Fennec was turning you in a circle to get you out of the shop.
You weren’t even aware that your feet had moved until you were in front of her bike and she had distributed the books into the two saddle bags. She faced you and put her hands on your shoulders.
“Are you okay?”
You looked at her, answering her question with the question mark that had seemingly etched itself on your face.
“Hello? Earth to Doc? Are you in there?” She gave your shoulders a little shake, before she wrapped you in her arms. You finally felt like you could take a deep breath again as you rested your head in the crook of her neck, letting the pressure she was providing ground you again.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the collar of her sweater.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. He should be sorry. If he hadn’t stopped talking, I would have made him sorry.”
“I wanted to stop you from paying, it was too much.”
“No. I wanted to do that, it was the plan from the beginning.”
“Really?” You pulled back slightly, peeking at her, searching her face but not having much luck in the low light.
“Yes really. Now, I had something else planned, do you want to know what it is so you can decide if you still want to do it?”
You considered it, but the phantom hollow in your chest and the way your arms and legs still didn’t feel like they belonged to you gave you your answer.
“I want to know, but not yet. Keep it secret, show me next time. I’ve got my own idea though. Will you take me home? I want to show you the Books.”
***
You didn’t want to let go of her, but you needed to if you were going to go inside where it was warm. So you did. When she had taken the books out and put them back in their bag, you headed for the three steps that led up to the door of your half of the duplex. You unlocked the door, nearly dropping the keys because your hands were so cold. You caught them before Fennec could tease you about it.
You clicked on the light in the entryway, lighting the way as she took a few steps inside again. You took the bag from her, and nodded to your left. Behind the stairs to the loft, there was a doorway. You walked through it and to the right, knowing the room in the darkness. You stepped on the clicker for the floor lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. You walked over to the electric fireplace that added some extra heat to the room, switching it on.
You went back to where she was standing in the doorway, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands. You took them in yours and brought her in.
Her eyes widened as she took in the space.
The room screamed comfort. All four walls were covered by bookshelves that reached the ceiling, with two interruptions. The first was around the fireplace, if you could even call it that. There was a painting in front of it, but her eyes were too busy wandering to take it in just yet. Her gaze drifted to the window, where either you or the previous owners had built a seat large and plush enough to recline in. While that should have been the star of the room, it wasn’t.
In front of the fireplace was a massive sectional sofa. She was sure it had to have a pull out option you were taking advantage of because it looked more like a bed-sofa hybrid with the way the middle was seemingly filled to the brim with throw pillows and faux-fur blankets.
You stood watching her take it in, as she eventually started looking at the books lining the shelves, punctuated by the odd piece of memorabilia. There was such a variety, all alphabetized, with the only delineation by genre she could see being poetry and prose. As she browsed, you placed your books on the window seat, and from under it produced two stamps: one to mark the books as yours, and one to put a place for people who borrowed them to sign. Others always asked if it was to make sure they came back, but you always replied with no, it was to make sure people could see if they had borrowed them before. You put the books onto the rolling cart that already had a small pile to be put away. Some of them were new, some you had reread and needed to return.
Task complete, you perched on the back of the couch to watch her.
“I should start referring to you as a dragon. You’ve got quite the hoard, baby.” Her words were quiet, wrapped with kindness. “It’s impressive. Thank you for showing me this part of you.”
“I just really like them.” Your smile was growing as she got closer to you. You stood and wrapped yourself around her again. “Does that make you the maiden in need of rescue?”
“Oh, no, you can keep me here as long as you want. Besides, don’t you know the dragon needs saving too sometimes?”
“In that case…” You paused, stealing yourself. “Would you stay a while? I can make tea, we can read, if you’re okay with you could do that pressure thing again?”
“You mean will I hold you close, let you hide your face in my neck for a minute again? Let you whisper things you don’t think I’ll hear but I will anyway?”
You nodded once.
“In that case, I’ll do ‘that pressure thing’ for as long as you need me to. But you have to let me try out this couch nest thing because it looks amazing.”
“Of course, but the first rule of the dragon’s lair is this: no jackets.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
More author’s notes: if you’re curious about what series peds!Reader was looking for, it’s These Witches Don’t Burn and its sequel by Isabel Sterling. She wants Fennec to read Circe by Madeline Miller, and she bought The Song of Achilles, also by Madeline Miller
Tagging: @phoenixhalliwell @promiscuoussatan @maybege @jangofctts 
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god7072therescue · 4 years ago
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Mysme Fluff Week 2020 Day 3/ Household Chores
Hello everyone!! I know its been a loooong while, but I am wanting to dip my toes back into writing and reviving this blog! I thought the perfect way to do this is to contribute to the amazing fluff of @mmfluffweek. We all need this right now, right? So here is one of my contributions to this hella cool project! 
The fic is about Zen cleaning his apartment when MC is about to move in. Hope You guys like it! 
You can find my master list here! 
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Zen wore a large grin on his face as he stared at the time on his cell phone. It was almost midnight, early in the evening for him. A picture of MC and himself holding one another in a playful embrace let out a bright light among the dark space around him. He watched a minute pass before he turned his phone off and leaned back into his chair with a content sigh. 
Tomorrow was finally the day MC would be moving into his apartment. Not just staying the night, nor staying for a weekend, but actually living with him. She would never have to pry herself away from his too tight hugs when she would have to return home again. The thought made Zen feel giddy, almost like he was back in high school reading through theater scripts for the first time. 
His eyes scanned over the apartment, trying to imagine the little touches she would add as she made herself at home. How many of her paintings would she hang on the walls? How much of his and her stuff would have to be put in storage so the two could live in a harmonious space? Whatever the answer was, he knew it would be the best because MC would finally be living with him. This would become their home. 
However, the longer Zen inspected the apartment, he began to notice some aspects that would need to change when MC arrived. Has his place always been this messy? There were empty beer cans laying on the ground along with sheet mask wrappers from the nights before. Were those crumbs on the carpet always there when MC stayed over? Dust was on almost every surface, especially on his dinosaur of a computer. Would he finally be able to get rid of his outdated computer? MC had jokingly mentioned that she would be bringing her PC with her to replace Zen’s relic of a computer. He pouted playfully at the time but was secretly relieved because damn the thing was terribly slow. 
A rising feeling of urgency began to rush through him. Did he expect his jagiya to come live in this? This environment was no place for MC! MC deserved to arrive to a spotless apartment to create her new home with him. He called her his princess on a daily basis, but this new palace is definitely not worthy of her. As he pondered the thought longer, he came to wonder how in the hell MC dealt with this constantly cluttered space. He could use his busy lifestyle as an excuse, but MC was just as busy as he was and still managed to keep her apartment decent at least. 
Zen sprung to his feet in a slight panic as he realized just how little time he had to clean the apartment before her early morning arrival. If he worked efficiently and effectively, he could manage to make the apartment bearable. This meant Zen could not afford to find items he thought were lost and stand around to reminisce about them. He threw his ivory hair into a ponytail as he began to make a mental list of what to focus on first.
Thus, began the long evening of Zen’s cleaning journey. His journey consisted of and is not limited to: 
Making a valiant effort to avoid nostalgia but failing miserably every time he would find a lost photo or ticket stub 
Wondering how one man could consume so much beer in a short amount of time
Quickly throwing out cigarette boxes found in mysterious places
Being amazed at how much of his and MC’s hair was found lying around 
Throwing out all of his sauces because they were expired
Hastily washing, drying, and folding laundry 
Putting the dinosaur computer out of its misery 
Creating a coin jar for all of the loose change he found
Cursing Yoosung for the amount of potato chip bags and crumbs under the cushion of the couch
Sweeping, mopping, and vacuuming in a near sprint
Tripping over the vacuum cord multiple times 
The bathroom
By the time Zen considered his cleaning activities dealt with, he collapsed into clean bedsheets at 5:00 AM. He was startled awake by a loud knock on his apartment door. The sudden, loud noise caused him to jolt out of bed with a loud curse. “Hyun? Are you awake?” The familiar voice soothed the panic in Zen’s chest. It was his MC at the door, waiting to be let in one last time before she had a key of her very own. Just the thought of it brought a lopsided smile to Zen’s face. “Give me a moment, jagiya!” He had his teeth brushed, deodorant on, and a baseball cap on his head in record time before he greeted his jagiya. He laughed lightly when he heard the light pings of a mobile rhythm game MC had played around him a good bit. When he opened the door, he reveled in the sight of her angelic face scrunched up in determination. “Now you give me a moment, “She muttered in sheer concentration, “I’m about to beat this level.” He leaned against the doorway as he watched her. She looked ready to put in some work based on the outfit she chose for the day. Her hair was thrown under a baseball cap, an old paint stained T-shirt he’d seen her take naps in, and a pair of his old grey sweatpants she took from him early in their relationship had never looked so beautiful on her. MC let out a soft “yes” in victory then quickly put her phone in her pocket. Her eyes looked joyous when she lifted her head to speak with him, but they quickly turned concerned when she saw the dark circles under Zen’s eyes. “Zenny, did you get any sleep last night?” She brought her hand up to softly cup his cheek, “You look exhausted.” Zen was caught up peering deeply into the depths of her warm eyes before giving MC a sheepish smile, “I was too excited to sleep.” That was not a lie. He just didn’t want to tell her he spent the entire night frantically cleaning. Her face was slightly flushed in worry, but all of the cleaning he had done the night before was all worth it. Her being happy and comfortable was what mattered most to him. Losing a few hours of sleep was a small price to pay.
His eyes roamed over her face to memorize exactly how she looked before him. This was an important milestone for the two of them, he wanted to make sure he captured the moment. Maybe they could take a picture as a memento if she was not too tired after this.
Over the course of their relationship, Zen wondered if she could get anymore beautiful with each passing day. Today was not an exception. Her face was bare, probably because she knew she would be sweating during the day. She had always been self-conscious without make up, but he could not understand why. She was stunning regardless. He had always told her he would find his jagiya gorgeous whether she wore makeup or not. She looked at him with a glowering expression before standing on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the lips. The feeling of her soft lips caused him to lose his train of thought for a moment, so much so, he missed the bill of her baseball cap forcing his own to fall off of his head. She giggled as she leaned back to see his bed head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” The timbre of her voice was playful as she picked up his hat for him. She handed it back with a content sigh. The look on her face was one he recognized from their time together. This relaxed expression was what she wore when she was curled up on the couch reading her favorite book with a lit candle on the nightstand beside her. This expression meant she felt comfortable. At home. 
He took the hat from her gently and placed it back on his head. A newfound energy was flowing through him as he looked down at her serene, beautiful face. He was ready to experience the scenarios he had imagined of her making a place in his home and it looked like she was too. “You ready to start our little adventure, jagiya?” He held out his hand to her as he pushed himself from the doorframe. She took his hand in hers and squeezed it lightly, almost in an unspoken promise. “I’ve been looking forward to this for months, Hyun.” 
Hearing his name from her lips filled his chest with pride as he began to lead them down the hallway. “Then let’s make it happen, jagiya.” 
With the combined determination of the couple, they were able to move all of her belongings into the apartment by late afternoon. Zen made a point to carry as many boxes as he could to show MC how strong her prince is. He also didn’t want her to overexert herself; his princess deserved to be taken care of. 
Now thoroughly exhausted, Zen sat on the couch as he watched MC unpack her belongings while humming to herself. Little trinkets she had collected over the years were piling up on Zen’s coffee table as she organized them by which room they would be in. She looked as if she was already at home. The domestic aura was enough for him to let his mind wander towards the future. Is this what having a family meant?
MC had always had this effect on him, no matter where they were or what they were doing. He didn’t feel the constant need to defend and fight for the right to be loved as he did when he lived with his parents. Since the beginning, MC had always supported Zen and made him feel valued. Hell, after one week she had made him feel more loved than he had ever felt in his life.
This milestone felt like a second chance at finding and building his own family with her. 
He was pulled from his thoughts when MC plopped on the couch beside him, pulled her legs underneath her, and leaned into his side. She rested her head on his shoulder as he immediately placed his arm around her. 
“Did you clean the apartment for me, Hyun?” Her voice was laced with appreciation as she lifted her head slightly so she could study his face. 
His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment as he pulled her closer to him. “Well of course, jagiya, my princess deserves the absolute best.” She kissed his cheek before nestling her head back on his shoulder. “It looks wonderful, Hyun. Thank you.” He felt her relax into his side as she looked around the apartment herself. There were still many boxes that needed to be unpacked and almost all of the rooms needed to be rearranged, but they both knew it would all be worth it in the end. 
She took his hand in hers and began to idly stroke the inside of his palm. The feeling of her fingers grazing against his skin brought him a sense of peace. He made a soft noise of approval and placed a small kiss on the top of her head. This was exactly what Zen imagined every day since the two had started dating. Just the two of them enjoying each other’s presence, not thinking of when one would have to leave the other. 
“Let’s have a relaxing night tonight, Hyun,” MC said in a tranquil voice, “The boxes will be here tomorrow.” Zen’s heart melted at her suggestion. “That sounds absolutely perfect, MC.” The evening consisted of face masks, take out, massages, and a movie marathon before the two dozed off in the each other’s arms on the couch. Just as Zen was dozing off, thoughts of MC feeling like home drifted through his mind.
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