#and then looked at the table it was under and it was STREAKED with mold and then i looked underneath the table

[keirametzbrassknuckles]

So that's delightful: the desk beneath which I've been storing my (open) suitcase is COVERED IN MOLD

And now all my shit has mold growing on it. ALL OF IT

[greatestexpectationss]

Cherry Lip Gloss- Luke Castellan

Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite Reader

You don’t feel like a daughter of Aphrodite today. Your hair won’t cooperate with you, it feels like none of your clothes fit right, and you’d somehow lost your favorite cherry lip gloss and had to borrow your sisters which tasted distinctly nonfruity, some vanilla something that left way too much of a taste in your mouth.

You just don’t feel like you. There's some sort of despair deep in your bones, you ignore the cause of it and trudge through the day in a haze, by them time you make it to lunch all you want to do is go back to bed and pray to the gods tomorrow is better.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Silena, your sister, asks you from her seat at lunch beside you. The rest of your siblings, true children of Aphrodite, turn their eyes and ears to listen in. Across from you and Silena is Drew, whose perfectly plucked brows furrow, “You haven’t touched your cherries,”

“You love cherries,” Jake, your brother, chimes in.

“I’m fine,” you tell them, forcing a smile. You pop a cherry in your mouth, “See?”

“No you’re not, you’ve been off all day,” Drew retorts, arms crossing as she turns to look at you. “Is this about that fight you had with Luke?”

Under the table Silena kicks her, and above it Jake elbows her.

“Drew,” he hisses, gesturing toward the rest of your siblings who all promptly turn back to their meals. 

“Sorry, but are we not gonna talk about it, seriously?”

You, in fact, weren’t gonna talk about it. Luke had been your best friend for most of your time at Camp Half-Blood, you’d met him in the Hermes Cabin before your mother had claimed you. You’d only stayed there for 3 days, but by the time you were headed to Cabin 10 and away from him, Luke was already ready to help you carry your stuff and remind you if you needed anything he was still right next door. 

You hadn’t really needed anything,. It was no shock to anyone you were Aphrodite's daughter, with your pretty smile and long shiny (y/h/c) hair. You had always had this way about you, something that lay between perfection and humanity. Confidence radiated off of you in waves, and you always smelt of fruit and cherry lipgloss.

You were fine on your own, perfectly capable of making your own life and friends for yourself in camp.

But Luke was charming, and maybe a little persistent. When you struggled to find a weapon you could actually wield, he knew your siblings would be no help, he’d approached you with two daggers in hand and told you to follow him. You were good with daggers but with Luke’s help, you were a damn force to be reckoned with. From there your friendship had blossomed and as you’d both grown up something more bubbled beneath the surface. A sort of "Will they?Might they?"

You never did, but you desperately wanted to. 

At least you did, before your fight

A few days ago, Luke had been pretty worked up about Capture the Flag. Normally, you liked him like this, all argumentative and technical, jaw and fists clenched. Mainly because you're never on the receiving end and also because a small part of you prides yourself on the ability to calm him down afterward. He's always soft with you, but when he confides in you, truly, you think he’s the best person you’ve ever met.

But this time he’s just pissing you off.

Luke, Annabeth, and a few other children of Athena worked tirelessly on a strategy for your team to beat Ares. Ares was on a winning streak and it was putting damage in all of your egos. Annabeth’s idea to put you in front of the flag had bode well with the rest of the group, everyone always underestimates you as a daughter of Aphrodite. You'd told Luke how much this irks you, in quiet moments alone, there's this stereotype, a mold Aphrodite kids are "supposed" to fit into, and you don't fit it, you just wish other people would realize it too.

Maybe that's why when Luke didn’t like the idea, when he openly protested it, it stung so much. When he Annabeth that putting you, a child of Aphrodite (he didn’t say it in so many words but still) as the last line of defense for the flag was "fatal strategic error" you'd blinked at him. Luke had talked Annabeth out of it or at least talked her into him and Chris waiting behind the tree line out of site “just in case”. 

After the meeting when it was just you and Luke, you’d fought, or more so Luke had tried to explain while you yelled at him.

“C’mon Y/N, this isn’t personal,” he’d told you after you’d ignored him the 3 minutes it took to get back to your respective cabins, he halted you in front of the Aphrodite cabin, coming to stand in front of you and tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, “leaving you there by yourself wasn’t a good idea, what if you needed back up?”

You’d slapped his hand away from your face. 

“No but if Annabeth had wanted to leave you there, or herself there it wouldn’t have been a doubt in your mind you’d both be fine right?” He says nothing but you know what he’s thinking, and you scoff in disbelief. 

“Don’t be like that,” Luke begged, eyes sad and soft, you almost wanted to cave when he lowered his voice and stepped closer to you, “Will you just let me explain?”

You take a step back, “What? You wanna explain that because I’m in Aphrodite I’m somehow less than you and Annabeth? Like I can’t look like this,” you gesture to your black mini skirt, camp half-blood tee, altered to be shorter and tighter, and your dainty jewelry, “and kick your ass at the same time?”

“I’m not saying–”

“Just forget it, Luke,” you’d said bitterly, “you know for the record I’m used to everyone treating me like some dizzy Aphrodite kid without a clue, I just never thought you’d be the one doing it.”

And then in the greatest storm off in Camp Half-Blood history you’d bumped his shoulder, stomped up the steps of your cabin, and slammed the door right in his cute puppy dog face. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you told your siblings. Silena scoffs while Drew and Jake roll their eyes. “Y/N, you haven’t talked to him in almost a week.”

You pop another cherry in your mouth, “Look its fine, I’m fine, everything is fine, I’m just tired and this morning was rough”

They share an unconvinced look. “You know he keeps asking about you,” Jake tells you after a moment of silence, “I think he’s worried about losing you.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you say bitterly, you take your fork and stab it into your salad.

“Hmm, I don’t know because he’s totally in love with you??” Drew deadpans, she’s kicked and nudged again. She throws her hands up in the air and sighs loudly before she grabs her trey and stands up. “Look Y/N I love you, and if you want us to totally ignore your problems we will, again because we love you. But we just want you to be happy, and I think for the most part Castellan makes you happy.”

She smiles and then leaves. Jake stands too, “Plus he’s super hot, you are not gonna find better arm candy in this camp. Trust me I’ve looked.”

That draws a laugh out of you, “I’ll keep that in mind Jake, thanks.”

Silena goes to stand up too, “Are you gonna come to archery practice today? I heard Lee and the Apollo kids are gonna show off, might be kind of cool.”

“You go ahead I think maybe I just don’t feel well,” she looks unsure, and double-checks again. You just wave her off, tell her to have fun before retreating to your cabin.

You don’t feel well, you repeated, you must be coming down with a cold, your feeling of despair and lessthanness has nothing to do with Luke, with missing him, with wanting him.

You curl up in your empty cabin, in your bunk. Your siblings call it your nook, a bunk in the corner of the cabin, the top unclaimed, but the bottom bunk is yours. It's covered in pretty floral sheets, a fuzzy blanket, and a fluffy pillow. You had hung up (or had Luke hang them up for you) a long curtain rod across the bed frame with light pink curtains, the inside of your bunk lined with pretty fairy lights. Usually, your nook is comforting, today it just makes you miss your best friend. 

The door to the Aphrodite Cabin opens and closes, you close your eyes, hoping desperately to fall asleep, and that whichever sibling walked in doesn’t realize you’re hiding in here. 

A shadow appears outside your curtains, you internally groan and bury your face deeper in your pillow,

“Y/N?” the voice asks, you recognize it right away. You think you’d know him anywhere. It’s Luke, you let him peek into your curtain, and he gives you a small smile.

“Hey,” he says. His curly hair looks stupidly good, in a way that makes you wanna run your fingers through it. It's unfair really.

“Hi.”

“You okay?”

“M’fine,” you try to say voice muffle by the pillow, his smile grows. 

“Mind if I come in?” You hesitate, you’re still reeling from his rejection of the idea that you could be of value as the last line of defense for the flag like you're some damsel that needs him to rescue her. Your ego isn’t the only thing that's wounded though. Luke hurt your feelings, all this time you thought he was the only person who saw you, all of you, and loved you for it and despite it. Never in a million years would you have imagined that your one episode of self-loathing would be triggered by his words. But, still, you miss him, and you're sad, so against your better judgment, you mutter a quiet sure and scoot over. 

He crawls in with you and lays down on his back beside you, side by side the two of you stare up at your twinkle lights. 

“You’ve kind of got it made in here don’t you?” he asks in order to break the terribly awkward silence. You mumble a quite yeah, and then you’re both silent again. It’s incredibly painful. You turn your head to look at him, and find he’s already staring at you. 

“Hey,” you say.

“Hi,” he replies. He reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, you savor the feeling of his touch, leaning into his hand. He smiles at you something sweet and sad all at once.

“I miss you,” Luke tells you, “and I’m sorry.”

“Luke–” he turns all the way to face you on his side, you follow suit even when he cuts you off.

“Just listen okay?” he pleads. 

You nod once. 

“I was worried about you,” he starts running a tired hand through his hair, your brows furrow in confusion, you open your mouth to protest, but he puts a finger to your lips, “You promised you’d listen remember?” 

You glare at him but relent as he pulls his finger away from your lips and down your arm. “Peter from Ares, all week had been talking about how he’s leading the charge for our flag, and how he couldn’t wait to get his hand on the pretty Aphrodite girl who always takes all the cherries,” it doesn’t take a genius to realize that Peter had been talking about you. He’d flirted up a wild storm with you a few weeks prior and you’d turned him down, Peter, a true Ares kid at heart, didn’t take it well. “I didn’t want you out there all alone if he came looking for you and actually found you.”

Luke’s always had a hero complex, the desire to prove himself worthy of being called a hero, no matter the cost, the pink scar on his face is a testament to that. It would be annoying if it wasn’t so fucking sweet. “I can take care of myself, Luke.”

“I know that,” he says earnestly, and you think he means it. Luke reaches for your hands and holds both of them close to his chest, he brings one to his lips and kisses your wrist. “The thing is you don’t have to. And I guess I just wanted to protect you and I went about it all wrong, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him and before you know it Luke is pulling you to his chest hugging you and kissing the top of your head. “I know you can take care of yourself, and I know you could kick anyones ass and look gorgeous doing it, you always do.” Another kiss to your head, before you’re looking up at him grinning. 

“You think I’m gorgeous?” you can’t help teasing him. Your self consciousness is melting away under his gaze, how can it not when he’s looking at you like you hung the damn moon?

This is that something else that bubbles under the surface of your friendship.

“Are you kidding?” he scoffs, moving his arm from your waist to place a hand on your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, “Look at you, of course I do.”

“Even when I’m mad at you?” You tilt your face upwards and closer to his

Luke grins, “I don’t know are you still mad at me?” You smile right back, bringing one of your hands between your faces, and pinch your index finger and thumb together only a tiny sliver of space between them. Luke knows you’re kidding by the glint in your eyes.

“Well then especially when you’re mad at me.”

You laugh and it does something funny to Luke’s chest. He looks at your lips, and the air changes. 

“Luke?”

“Yeah?” 

“Would you really have protected me if I needed it? From Paul?” you ask quietly, eyes darting to his lips drawn between his teeth. 

“From anything,” Luke swears, thumb still caressing your cheek, you want him closer, you need him closer. You could just reach up and kiss him but first you have to know, you have to make sure.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

And then he’s kissing you, like you’ve never been kissed before. You let out a squeak of surprise by the sudden pull at the back of your neck, toward him, then he’s shifting you on your back and hovering over you all the while never breaking your lips apart. 

You’re glad for that, when he slips his tongue in your mouth, you think you’d die if he stopped kissing you. You reach one perfectly manicured hand at the base of his neck and thread your fingers through the shorter strands, Luke lets out a little groan, and you grin into your kiss. Your grin is cut short by his hand on the skin of your waist where your shirt had ridden up, he caresses it there and you absolutely melt. 

This is it, you think, no one else will ever be able to kiss me again, you know you’re completely and totally screwed before you even pull away to catch your breath. 

“You taste like vanilla,” Luke says, grinning at you with the sheen of borrowed lip gloss on his lips, he brings his thumb up to wipe the reminisce of the lip gloss off of yours, “I thought you use cherry.”

“I do,” you pout, reaching up to wipe his lips the way he did yours, he kisses the inside of your lips, “I lost mine.”

Luke reaches into his shorts, and appears with not one but two new, not yet opened, cherry lipglosses, her grins as you sit up and greedily grab them from him, “I brought them as a peace offering, you know in case you didn’t want to make out.”

You laugh before pulling the little handheld mirror off the window ledge next to your bed, you apply it and already you feel more like yourself. 

You fling yourself back on top of Luke and cling to him like a Koala.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his chest. He laughs, and you can feel it in your cheek.

“Anytime sweetheart.”

You kiss him again, and this time when you pull away, it's your lips gloss that smeared on his mouth. You think you like him best like this, shiny swollen lips, tousled hair, and grinning.

[karensgreencleaning1]

Optimal Home Care: A Comprehensive Guide to Keeping Your House Clean

Optimal Home Care: A Comprehensive Guide to Keeping Your House Clean

Maintaining a clean and tidy home is crucial for a healthy and comfortable living environment. A well-maintained house Cleaning not only looks appealing but also prevents the accumulation of dust, allergens, and pests. This comprehensive guide will provide you with practical tips and strategies to achieve optimal home care, focusing on cleanliness and organization.

1. The Importance of a Clean Home

Health Benefits

A clean home reduces the risk of allergies, asthma, and other respiratory issues by minimizing dust, mold, and pet dander. Regular cleaning company also helps eliminate harmful bacteria and viruses, reducing the likelihood of infections.

Mental Well-being

A tidy and organized space promotes mental clarity and reduces stress. Living in a clutter-free environment can improve your mood and increase productivity.

Safety

Keeping your home clean and organized minimizes the risk of accidents. Clear pathways and properly stored items prevent trips and falls, especially important for homes with children and elderly residents.

2. Creating a Cleaning Schedule

Daily Tasks

Make the bed: Starting your day by making the bed sets a positive tone.

Dishes: Wash dishes after each meal to prevent buildup.

Surface wipe-down: Clean kitchen countertops, dining tables, and bathroom sinks daily to keep surfaces free from germs and stains.

Weekly Tasks

Vacuuming and mopping: Vacuum carpets and rugs and mop hard floors at least once a week to remove dirt and dust.

Laundry: Schedule regular laundry days to keep clothes and linens fresh.

Bathroom cleaning: Clean toilets, showers, and bathtubs weekly to prevent mold and soap scum buildup.

Monthly Tasks

Deep cleaning: Focus on one room each month for a deep clean. This includes washing windows, cleaning under furniture, and dusting ceiling fans.

Appliance maintenance: Clean kitchen appliances such as the oven, microwave, and refrigerator to ensure they function efficiently.

3. Essential Cleaning Supplies

Cleaning Tools

Vacuum cleaner: A high-quality vacuum with HEPA filters effectively removes dust and allergens.

Mop and bucket: Choose a mop suitable for your floor type, such as a microfiber mop for hardwood floors.

Dusters: Use microfiber dusters for furniture and electronics.

Scrub brushes: Various sizes for different cleaning tasks, including grout and tile.

Cleaning Solutions

All-purpose cleaner: Versatile for most surfaces.

Disinfectant: Kills germs and bacteria on high-touch surfaces.

Glass cleaner: Ensures streak-free windows and mirrors.

Specialty cleaners: Products designed for specific tasks, such as stainless steel or wood polish.

Eco-Friendly Options

Consider using eco-friendly cleaning products to reduce your environmental impact. Many natural alternatives, like vinegar and baking soda, are effective and non-toxic.

4. Room-by-Room Cleaning Guide

Kitchen

Counters and surfaces: Wipe down countertops and stovetops daily.

Sink: Clean and disinfect the sink regularly to prevent odors and bacteria.

Refrigerator: Organize and clean the refrigerator monthly, discarding expired items and wiping shelves.

Oven and microwave: Use appropriate cleaners for these appliances to remove grease and food residue.

Bathroom

Toilet: Clean with a disinfectant to kill germs and prevent stains.

Shower and tub: Use a mold and mildew cleaner to maintain a spotless shower.

Sink and mirrors: Wipe down with glass cleaner for a streak-free finish.

Floor: Mop with a disinfectant solution to keep the floor clean and fresh.

Living Room

Dusting: Dust furniture, electronics, and decorations weekly.

Vacuuming: Vacuum carpets and rugs to remove dirt and pet hair.

Upholstery cleaning: Use a fabric cleaner to refresh sofas and chairs.

Windows: Clean windows and window sills monthly for clear views and dust-free spaces.

Bedrooms

Bed linens: Change and wash bed linens weekly.

Dusting: Dust furniture and decorations regularly.

Floors: Vacuum or sweep floors to keep them free of dust and debris.

Closets: Organize closets monthly, decluttering and donating unused items.

Home Office

Desk and electronics: Wipe down the desk and clean electronics with appropriate cleaners.

Organize paperwork: File important documents and discard unnecessary papers.

Dusting: Dust shelves and office equipment weekly to maintain a tidy workspace.

5. Decluttering Tips

The KonMari Method

Marie Kondo’s method involves decluttering by category rather than by room. Keep items that "spark joy" and discard the rest. Categories include clothing, books, papers, miscellaneous items, and sentimental items.

The Four-Box Method

Use four boxes labeled "Keep," "Donate," "Trash," and "Relocate." Sort through each room, deciding the fate of each item. This method helps make decisions easier and keeps you organized.

Seasonal Decluttering

Tackle decluttering tasks seasonally. For example, clean out closets and storage areas at the beginning of each season, removing items that are no longer needed or used.

6. Maintaining Cleanliness with Pets

Pet Hair Management

Vacuum regularly: Use a vacuum with pet-specific attachments to remove hair from floors and furniture.

Lint rollers: Keep lint rollers handy for quick removal of pet hair from clothing and upholstery.

Grooming: Regular grooming reduces shedding and keeps your pet’s coat healthy.

Litter and Odor Control

Litter boxes: Clean litter boxes daily to prevent odors and maintain a sanitary environment.

Pet bedding: Wash pet bedding regularly to keep it fresh and free of odors.

Deodorizers: Use pet-safe deodorizers to neutralize odors in your home.

7. Seasonal Cleaning

Spring Cleaning

Windows: Wash windows inside and out to let in more natural light.

Outdoor areas: Clean patios, decks, and outdoor furniture.

Air vents and filters: Replace air filters and clean vents to improve air quality.

Summer Cleaning

Grill cleaning: Clean your grill before the summer barbecue season.

Ceiling fans: Dust and clean ceiling fans to ensure efficient operation.

Carpets and rugs: Deep clean carpets and rugs to remove built-up dirt and allergens.

Fall Cleaning

Gutter cleaning: Clear gutters of leaves and debris to prevent blockages.

Fireplace: Clean the fireplace and chimney before use.

Closets: Rotate seasonal clothing and store summer items.

Winter Cleaning

Heater maintenance: Ensure your heating system is clean and functioning properly.

Entryways: Keep entryways clean and organized to manage dirt and snow brought in from outside.

Holiday preparation: Clean and decorate for the holidays, focusing on areas where guests will gather.

8. Professional Cleaning Services

When to Hire a Professional

Consider hiring a professional cleaning service for tasks that require specialized equipment or expertise, such as deep carpet cleaning, upholstery cleaning, and post-construction cleaning.

Choosing a Cleaning Service

Reputation: Look for reviews and recommendations to find a reputable service.

Services offered: Ensure the service offers the specific cleaning tasks you need.

Pricing: Compare prices and choose a service that fits your budget.

9. Sustainable Cleaning Practices

Reducing Waste

Reusable products: Use reusable cleaning cloths and mop pads instead of disposable ones.

Eco-friendly products: Choose biodegradable and non-toxic cleaning products to reduce your environmental impact.

Conserving Water and Energy

Efficient appliances: Use energy-efficient appliances to reduce electricity consumption.

Water-saving techniques: Avoid excessive water use by using efficient cleaning methods, such as spot cleaning instead of full mopping.

10. Conclusion

Achieving optimal home care through cleanliness requires a combination of regular maintenance, effective cleaning techniques, and proper organization. By following the tips and strategies outlined in this guide, you can create a clean, healthy, and comfortable living environment for you and your family. Remember, consistency is key; establishing a routine and sticking to it will make home care more manageable and less time-consuming in the long run.

[phantomrose96]

For Pennies

Warm-up mini fic. Consider this a doodle.

....

The Fentons were selling their house for pennies.

The “For Sale” sign out front was easily missed against the ostentatious display of the op center, and the “FENTON” sign, and the Fenton RV. Or perhaps, all that made it more noticeable. It bolstered the weird and unsettling mundanity of a standard-issue For Sale sign dictating the fate of a house so indescribably odd.

It took only a few curious gossips to find the listing, and to spread the news further when the listing asked for hardly a fifth of standard asking price. Real estate agents weighed in on town facebook pages that, yes, this was abysmally low. Others rationalized it. “It’s only natural. Those house modifications have killed the resale value. The basement is uninhabitable according to the listing. They’re selling an extreme fixer-upper.”

And when the house did not sell in the first week, the price dipped again. And when rumors spread that the house owners were responsible for the town’s ghost blight, the price dipped once again. Then nearly overnight, the op-center vanished, and the FENTON sign disappeared from sight. The Fentons were, if nothing else, impressive engineers, capable of undoing a lifetime’s work in a weekend. Soon after, the listing sold.

The buyer, Peter, was looking for fixer-uppers to flip and rent. He knew about the Amity Park rumors, but if the renting market proved stale for the fear of ghosts, he knew the airbnb market would thrive with curious tourists, so the property was a safe bet regardless.

He met the family once, in the house, when he came to inspect it and sign paperwork if he was satisfied. The husband was perhaps the biggest man Peter had ever seen, portly yet rock solid, clad head to toe in neon orange. The wife matched him in jumpsuits, a powder blue one. Their daughter seemed normal, though she and Peter only exchanged a handful of words.

“Where are you folks headed once this place is sold?” Peter asked, cordially, eyes flitting between the contract before him and the couple seated across the table.

“Westward, a bit. Um, Maddie’s got a sister out there. We’re trying to be closer to family.”

Peter nodded. “Always good to have family around.” He glanced in the daughter’s direction. “Are you excited to be moving closer to your aunt?”

The daughter met his gaze, level. “I’m not going with them, actually.”

“Oh?” Peter asked. “Headed to college? That would make sense.”

“I’m a rising senior,” the girl answered.

“Jazz is—” the mother, Maddie, cut in. “It’s well, it’s about to be her senior year of high school. Hard time to switch schools, you know? She’s going to be renting a place nearby so she can finish school here.”

“Oh? First time living all on your own?” Peter asked, initialing a page of the contract.

“I’m 17. It’s not that weird.”

“Never said it was. I remember my first place pretty fondly. It’s an exciting milestone, don’t waste it!”

Peter initialed another page. He spun the document back to the Fentons to sign as well.

“Well, I really like the place, is what I’ve got to say. The newly redone flooring on this floor was a perk I wasn’t expecting, can’t have been cheap. You still managed to keep the price amazing though. Don’t worry about the dings and scratches – I’ve got the art of fixing up places down to a science. I’ll take a crack at the basement too.”

“We’d rather you didn’t,” Maddie answered.

Peter waved her off. “I know it was some kind of lab, yeah? You won’t be liable if I say, spill acid on myself or dunk myself in radiation or, whatever you had going on down there. We can go over that clause of the contract again if you want. Ghosts, right?”

“It’s dangerous—”

“If I can’t hack it, I’ll seal up the basement for good. But I won’t know until I try. Seriously, don’t worry.”

The Fentons signed the final page, and flipped the contract back around to Peter. He pulled an envelope from his coat – a check made out with the full amount. No loan needed. No mortgage. Their asking price was practically pocket change.

The daughter excused herself from the room.

…

The Fenton basement had fewer wonders than Peter was expecting.

He swung a flashlight around, as the bulb hanging overhead had been cut from the main power supply. Most everything had been cleared out, leaving a room hollowed out. His feet clicked across the metal floor. Walls of bolted steel rose high on all four sides. On the opposite wall, the scars of heavy bolting remained, along with the smoky stain of something huge, and geometric, no longer bolted to the wall.

He swung his beam wide, across every which wall beveling with bloated shadows, until he pinned the electrical panel.

“There you are.”

It took some tampering, and some patience, because something had physically demolished the box before him. Peter knew his way around basic house wiring, so it took only a few experimental adjustments until he threw the breaker, and the industrial light overhead clunked to life.

Peter turned, surveying the mouse cage of pure, uninterrupted steel sheeting, bolted together wall to wall, across the floor, across the ceiling. It was an impressive expanse of space, and under the proper flood lighting Peter could make out the deeper shadowy stains of where industrial cabinets used to be affixed to the floors, the walls. He was staring into the burnt out afterimage of what, he could only conjecture, had once been an impressive scientific facility.

It wasn’t above being carpeted and turned into a rec room.

Peter paused, his eyes training to the back corner near the octagonal imprint left in the wall. Something seemed amiss, something with color, popping bright against a display of pure ash and silver.

Peter stepped forward, flashlight still pointed though it served little use now. The space took shape – a rectangular impression on the floor, about as large as a twin bed, formed a negative image. The rectangle was spotlessly clean, silver and shiny, as though recently cleaned and polished and recleaned and repolished.

It was the edges of the rectangle, the spatters of space stretching beyond it, that held Peter’s attention.

Green, verging toward a rusty brown, splattered the floor. He stepped closer, and knelt, and stared at the pattern. Like a dropped vial of green chemicals that shattered and spattered the floors, the neighboring wall. Like radioactive spill left to eat into the floor. Peter thought back to his radioactive quip, and wondered if he should perhaps back away.

He set a nail to one of the stains and scratched at it. It would not lift. It would not budge. He swung the flashlight beam, and he found the stains glittered, and then dulled where they edged closer to rust.

And it was the rust that confused Peter the most. That copper color, like pennies, that morphed away from the green. It wasn’t uniform. It did not eat away symmetrically at the edges of the stains. Instead it spattered, and dragged, and molded from droplets to long streaks dragging across the floor like chalk dust on a blackboard.

Peter followed them. The streaking ended. Beyond that, he caught a single droplet speckled into the floor a foot away. Another, when he swung his beam. And another. He followed them, one by one, tracing them back to the basement stairs, up, up, up, up.

At the top of the stairs, the trail vanished. The brand new hardwood flooring that stretched through the whole first floor was immaculate.

[leiawritesstories]

Prompt: This gif but make it Aelin and Lysandra, any context will do thank you ❤️❤️

I’m really enjoying your Rowaelin fics btw, thanks 😊

thank you so much ❤️ 🥺

Word count: 809

Warnings: none hehe

Enjoy! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“And then,” Lys declared, “then we’re gonna get dressed the hell up and strut into this event looking like the two bad bitches we damn well are!” She tipped Aelin’s chin up with her fingertips. “Give me your best bad bitch smirk, AAG.” 

Aelin sniffled, managing a flicker of something resembling a smirk as best she could with mascara streaked under her red, puffy eyes. 

Lysandra snorted. “You call that a smirk?” 

“Fuck off,” Aelin grumbled, but she leaned into her best friend’s hug. “You’re the best, Lys, you know that?” 

“Indeed I do.” Lys shot her a wink. “C’mon, bitch queen. That prick doesn’t deserve a single drop of your tears.” 

“He really was a prick,” Aelin agreed, letting Lys tug her off the couch where she’d spend the last several hours crying after going to the bar where Chaol’s location icon had pinged only to find that dickwad with his tongue down some hooker’s throat. 

She really hoped she’d punched him hard enough that he wouldn’t be using that tongue anytime soon, because he sure as hell wouldn’t be using his other little friend. And she did mean little. 

“Come on,” Lys repeated, tugging her gently down the short hallway towards their rooms. “We’ve got a banquet to attend, babe.” 

~

An hour and a half later, both Aelin and Lysandra were dressed to the nines in their fanciest dresses, their hair and makeup done and styled to perfection. They had to attend the college’s annual student-athlete banquet, since both of them were athletes--Lys swimming, Aelin volleyball--and they’d planned to arrive alone, rather than bring anyone else. Which worked rather well, given that Aelin’s now-ex, Chaol Westfall, was a complete asshole who’d outright said he wouldn’t go to the dinner. 

So they were going together, single and very much proud of it, and they were going to knock the fucking socks off every single one of the student-athletes and coaches and others who were there. 

Aelin’s dress was fiery orange, fake gems along the neckline catching the light and making it look like the top of the dress was aflame. Thin straps settled over her shoulders, holding the formfitting top half up against her skin, molding to every inch of her upper body, the skirt fitted but loose enough to allow her to strut in her three-inch stiletto heels. Lysandra wore a deep green halter-top dress covered in sequins that glittered as she moved, its daringly low V-neck exposing a swath of her pale skin and the utter lack of back displaying her toned swimmer’s muscles. 

They arrived at the hotel where the dinner was being held a few minutes past the scheduled start time, knowing that most everyone would be showing up later rather than earlier, and took a few minutes in the coat room to fluff their hair and adjust their dresses. 

“Ready, babe?” Lys asked, fluffing Aelin’s curled hair. 

“Hell yeah,” Aelin smirked, shoving aside everything churning in her mind and focusing on the dinner. “C’mon, bad bitch.” 

“That’s my girl!” Lys crowed, linking arms with her as they strode out to the ballroom, where tables were arranged and laid with place settings for the athletes’ dinner. “Strut, bad bitch,” she whispered as they waited in the short line at the door. 

And Aelin strutted. 

She held her head high, her lips just a fraction apart, her bad-bitch, detached expression firmly in place as she and Lys strutted into the ballroom, eyes fixed forwards like nobody else in the room mattered even a tiny bit. 

Because they didn’t. She was here on her own merit, for her own achievements, and she was damn fucking proud of it. 

“Yes, bitch!” Lys whisper-screamed to her as they found their table and sat down, their tablemates greeting them with grins and soft applause. 

Aelin slapped Lys a high five. “Love you, babe.” 

“Goddamn,” one of their tablemates--Manon, Aelin’s teammate--smirked, eyeing her dress appreciatively. “If I weren’t taken, Galathynius, I’d be asking you home right about now.” 

“Shut up, Blackbeak,” Aelin snickered, winking at the other blonde. “You look phenomenal, where the hell’d you find that romper?” 

“Target,” Manon grinned. “No, I’m not shitting you.” 

Aelin whistled. “Guess I’m going there tomorrow.” She raised her water glass. “Cheers, Blackbeak.” 

“Gonna need more than water to get through Coach’s blathering,” Manon snickered, raising her glass to Aelin. 

Lysandra grinned wickedly. “Good thing I brought this, then.” Covertly, she withdrew a slender little flask from the hidden pocket in her dress. 

“I fucking love you,” Aelin all but groaned, quietly sliding her roommate her empty glass. 

And their whole table laughed and made snarky jokes all night long, smirking and exchanging eyebrow wiggles during the coach speeches and all the athlete recognition, which dragged on and on and on. Friends and a little alcohol, what more could a girl want?

~~~

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[witch-hazels-musings]

Hazels Apothecary --------------

Dear Hazel, 

You may not know me, but I've been recommended your shop not too long ago! I'm new in Mondstadt, but everyone is so welcoming I haven't had any problems so far. I have been searching for some difficult ingredients, so if you don't have some it's alright; I want to ask for a bit of eyebright, ember flowers and lunar caustic. I also need a very common ingredient, lotus head, but I have been so busy I haven't been able to get it by myself. It's for a very intimate friend, do you know Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's Consultant for Liyue? I wanted to make him a nice gift! I'll pass by today after working hours to check everything is clear, but if something urgent happens, you can find me in the Library, where I work as an assistant. Just ask Lisa if you find her awake! Appreciatively, Vivi.

(zhongli x gn reader) | ingredients: eyebright (morning routine), ember flowers (partners clothes), lunar caustic (photos), lotus head (sharing a bed) | anthology | comfort, domestic

It was normal for Zhongli to be out of bed before the sun peeked over the mountains. He’d grown accustomed to the streaks of light that filled the alleyways, that illuminated the rooftops, and stirred the citizens inside each home. He always did enjoy looking across the vast landscape under his protection but now that he was no longer their Archon, he reserved himself to watch from a much closer view. 

Years went by since the fall of Morax. The earth-shattering shift in Liyeu’s status of ‘observed by an archon’ to ‘observed by it’s people’ had proven to him there was no need for a guardian, a rule maker, a contract sealer anymore. It was now on their backs to thrive, as they had done all along without even realizing it. 

During his so called ‘vacation’ he had met wonderful humans who changed his life, taught him something new, and brought light in where he couldn’t find it anymore. The most important of all of them being - you. 

---

Zhongli returned to the bedroom, a tray of tea in his hands. It wasn’t unlike him to wake you up with breakfast in bed, though most of the time it was just refreshing tea. You always greeted him sweetly and he couldn’t get enough of that. This morning however, he didn’t plan on asking you to rise until you were ready and he was content to watch over you until then. There wasn’t anything pressing for him to do, it was a day of rest after all. 

After settling into the small table and comfortable chairs by the window, he examined the space. His eyes drifted to the decorations the two of you had collected in your time together. The large scroll painting that you’d found in one of the small village stores, the lantern replicas you collected after each lantern rite spread about the room, and lastly, the shelves of kamera’s you couldn’t help but purchase whenever you had the chance. 

“Zhongli! Look at this one!” You shouted and waved him over to the scattered boxes on the ground. It was a habit of yours to find privately owned sales just outside of peoples doors. He had never experienced something so ... unique and it rather tickled his intrigued when you pulled out items he thought were long gone. In your hands was a kamera, much like the many others you’d collected but he knew you would find something special about this particular one. “She’s beautiful! I’ve never seen one that extends like this.” You explain, stretching out the front of the device like an accordion. 

“Shall we inquire to it’s cost? Whatever the price, we can pay.” His hands rested in the curve of his spine and he looked down on you with a smile only he knew how to mold. 

“Well, good thing we are where we are, otherwise I’m sure you’d sell our house just to purchase this for me.” You chuckled, standing up with the help of his hand. He brushed off the dust on your arm and wondered how he got so lucky. “I’ll be back - you ... um, you stay here.” He nodded and watched you skip to the older couple with a smile only you knew how to make.

Zhongli took another sip from his cup before lifting to make his way toward the shelves. He wasn’t as skilled at using these as you were, but he understood their overall function. With a thoughtful consideration to each one, he finally chose and when he assured there was film inside, he turned back toward the bed. 

You were sleeping, dreaming sweetly as you should, and his fondness for you swelled. How dearly he wished to brush your hair from your face, how much was his desire to wake you and hear you call his name but, right now, you were lovely enough to immortalize. 

Carefully, he lifted the kamera until it’s window showed you inside of it and when he got the right angle, he snapped a photo. The sound of the machine wasn’t too loud, but as he took one photo after another, you began to stir. He didn’t want to miss anything if he could. 

“Zh-Zhongli?” You hummed, hands pushing down the sheets as you shifted and looked up him. “What are you doing?” A giggle radiate from you, the glow of your love and joy spilling from every inch and he took his opportunity to capture it on film. “You’re impossible.” Another click and you turned to hide in the sheets. 

“My dear, how am I to take your photo if you turn away from me.” 

“Easy, you can’t, that’s why I did this.” You mumbled into the pillows and put your hand out to block his view. It was tempting so he let himself be a bit improper as he leaned forward to kiss your fingertips. You cooed and the sound made him smile, another kiss was added to your palm. “Zhongli --” 

In defeat, you lifted your self back up and he was able to capture everything you were. The beauty of you, the incredibleness of you, and especially how you looked clothed in what belonged to him. 

The way his shirt spilled around you, how the long sleeves fell to your hands and covered your fingers, the perfect way it hid you from him while still giving him a taste was delectable and, if he was fast enough - “Ah, that one will do nicely.” 

“Zhongli! You perv!” You laughed and flung one of the decorative pillows against his chest. The sound of his rich chuckle filled the room only to be followed by a metal object scraping across the bedside table and a creaking bed.

“Have I told you how exquisite you are this morning?” Zhongli hummed, his hands pressing into the sheets on either side of you. 

“Not yet.” 

“You, my dear, are striking.” He closed his eyes as your fingers touched his lips and kept them closed as they were replaced with your own. Today was a day of rest, and he would find his in you. 

apothecary submission | @nya-vivi​

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Fury of Their Scales

m.yoongi / reader

genre: dragon!au, wyvern!yoongi, human/herbalist!reader,

warning(s)!!: isolation/alienation, mentions of war, injuries/blood/violence, dragon boy yoongles is stuck in a trap bc he’s dumb, y/n is so sO pure, protective dragon yoonyoon, villagers physically bully y/n a lot :(, unfair situations, y/n takes so much shit like a champ she deserves an award, dragon boy is a dragon for the first half of this (sorry, not sorry), don’t be scared there's actual humor and wholesome stuff too :D, slow burn (kinda)?  

w.count: 17.7k

Series | One-shot | Two-shot | Drabble | [Rated: T]

synopsis: a world of dragons, demons, devils, gods and ghouls- humans were of small number. you’ve lived on the outskirts of your human village in the woods ever since you could remember. living alone in a small cabin with nothing but woodland trees, ponds, lakes and animals was like a small paradise- with the occasional bump in the road. as someone who’s studied and experimented with nature to make all sorts of concoctions- your home was ideal. it didn’t matter that your village didn’t like it or that they rejected your life of medicine. what did matter, however, was the dragon stuck in a trap not too far from your home that you just discovered.

a/n: i literally haven’t sat down to write fanfiction in over a month bc my brain was fried and i got sucked balls deep into a fandom of an anime i dont even watch (yet). It took me three hours to edit this bc i pass tf out, pls be easy on me LOL

A shrill whine echoed through the woodland area. Bouncing off trees, echoing in caves, spooking off wildlife of rodents and critters that crept along the ground with far too many spindly legs.  Rustling in the wind, entangling with the leaves that blew and then erupting when a campfire crackled, settling in it’s burning pit of wood and stone.  

-x-x-x-

You shot awake in bed, the morning light peeking in through your bedroom window that was covered in a beginning to tear curtain.  You breathed out a heavy sigh as you flopped back down onto your mattress that squeaked at your movement.  You really should be getting a new bed sometime soon. This one was old and did nothing for your pressure points or back while you slept.  What was the point of a good night rest when you wake up feeling like you just wrestled a bear and lost? 

You looked at the small streaks of light that soaked into your wooden home as you closed your eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again before getting out of bed.  You threw your covers off, your nightdress coming down to your knees as you started to stretch.  Your arms reached above your head as you stifled a yawn. 

You could hear the birds outside and from the way the sun angled into the room through the drapes, you assumed it was still fairly early.  You hated that you could never seem to sleep until later into the morning, but you couldn’t help the fact that when you're up, you're up for the day unless you’re ill. 

Walking to your window, you drew open the curtains and immediately shut your eyes. Peeling them open slowly in a squint, the morning light was brilliant until you finally adjusted to the sudden light difference.  Letting the morning sun warm your room with sunspots, you started to change.  

Tossing away your nightdress, you changed into your everyday- not at all flattering- attire.  

A dress of a faded moss green skirt and a stretched, overly used leather corset around your waist that tucked around the white top half of your dress. Tying your hair back you slipped on some socks. 

Leaving your room, you immediately dashed to your fire place where a kettle of day old water hung from the single hook inside the top of the pit.  Striking a match, you ignited the wood that had not yet been completely burnt and noted to refill the kettle with fresh water later on- too lazy to do it right off the bat. 

You walked around your small, cabin home jumping place to place with small tasks or chores that took a mere few seconds to complete to start your day off waiting for your kettle to whistle with hot water.  When it finally did, you carefully took your kettle with a cloth wrapped around your hand and set it on your countertop. Grabbing a clay mug from your cupboard (that you made on your own to your pride), you dropped in a few leaves from a box of herbs you had and poured the steaming hot water over them.  

“Alright,” you assured yourself as you left your kettle to cool off again. After a handful of minutes, you took your mug and sat yourself at your small table that was made for two- but only occupied by yourself. You lifted open your window and let out a breathy sigh at the fresh air.  You placed a small plate of grain and food on the open window seal and soon enough, birds were flocking to it to grab something. 

“Good morning you guys,” you chuckled as you basked in the small moment of peace before the day ahead.  You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there in your spot of sunlight and birds with the occasional squirrel, but after the sun had shifted just enough to get you to notice, you deemed it long enough. 

Getting up, you set your mug into your sink and took the plate that was previously filled on the widow as you walked to your door.  Grabbing a white cloak to tie around your shoulders, a small gathering basket and placing a pair of worn down, brown boots on, you were leaving your home.  Grabbing the key that hung on a nail beside the door, you locked your cabin door behind you and placed the key around your neck. 

Taking a list from beneath the small cloth in your basket, you started reading aloud to none other than yourself.  You kept yourself company, that’s the only way you stayed somewhat entertained in your lonesome cabin. 

You lived on the outskirts of your village, having been born in this cabin and growing up in it even when your parents left you there as a child.  You found out quickly how to grow and live independently and by now it was just second nature.  Sure, you had your rough days of work and weather, but it was manageable.  At least you didn’t have neighbors that stressed you out- only the occasional bird, bat or squirrel that got stuck in your chimney that you had to chase out. 

“I need to find some goldenrod for sure,” you muttered.  “I’ll need to make sure not to grab yarrow in its place; although, I guess it wouldn’t be all that bad if I did.” Your knowledge and interest in medicine was also another reason why you never branched further into the village as a person.  All they did was ridicule you for not following the status quo. “I need honey too, but I’d have to go to the village for that unless some merchant runs into me while I’m out.” You sighed, “I doubt it. I’m never that lucky.” 

You started your way off, passing by the small well in your front yard and bypassing the small station of firewood you had yet to cut and move.  A pile of logs sat sliced into thirds under a tarp beside your front door. The hardest part of your life was building the muscle and stamina to cut your own firewood, not to mention swinging and actually hitting the wood with your axe instead of magnificently missing it and getting the blade stuck in the stump you used to chop on. 

As you walked away from your cabin, the trees becoming thicker as you followed the dirt trail further into the woods, you started looking around.  Scanning for any signs of any herb that you may want to snag along the search for the days main goal: goldenrod.  You started off the path and began walking between trees and away from small holes from rabbits and moles so you don’t jeopardize your ankles and fall. 

You were searching for a while as you were knelt into the grass, scanning leaves and flower petals to identify what was what when you thought you heard something.  From somewhere beyond the trees, past the wall of foliage, you though you heard a sort of... whining? Or maybe howl?  

A sense of deja-vu washed over you. Had you heard this whining somewhere before? Was it a wolf cub or maybe a bear? No, it sounded too rough to be either of those.  A cry echoed after a moment of silence and then the whines from before returned shortly after.  

A part of you wanted to forget about it and leave the area immediately.  Something about the way it seemed to bend and mold the air around you with it’s unfamiliar cry made your skin crawl.  However, the bigger part of your heart that knew that the cries you were hearing were cries for help made you think otherwise.  

Rising to your feet, you tucked your basket to your side closer in a pitiful sense of self-comfort as you made your way towards the cries. The trees became less dense and soon you were approaching a small opening.  You could hear the sounds of metal clanking together along with the loud cries and whines.  Perhaps an animal had gotten snagged in a trap?  If that were the case, you wondered if you should free it or not. 

Although you felt bad for the animals in the moment, you knew that they were someone else's food source or something important to help somehow; whether it be a pelt for warmth or their claws for weaponry. You had no right to free an animal that wasn’t your prey- so you decided that if it was an animal you’d leave no matter how much your heart ached.  

When you could see the clearing ahead, you slowed your footsteps and slowly crept up behind a tree to peer around it.  As you did so, your breath caught in your throat as you gasped and slapped a hand over your mouth to keep from choking and making a sound.  You spun around, nearly dropping your basket from your arm as you hid behind the tree you had peered around and pressed your back firmly to it’s trunk. 

Your breath shuttered, shook, halted and repeated.  You couldn’t remember how to breathe properly as you tried to be as quiet as possible.  Around that tree trunk and indeed caught in a metal trap was no animal. 

It was a dragon. 

You racked your brain trying to be reasonable.  Perhaps it was just a trick of the mind? A hallucination? Maybe the leaves you boiled earlier that morning were hallucinogenic and you were simply too careless about what you were brewing in your morning daze? 

You peered one more time around the tree trunk to verify and your entire body ceased up again at the same dragon from the first time you saw it.  You didn’t hide immediately this time.  You stayed hidden, tucked away but examined the situation the best you could; even if every orifice of your body was telling you to run. 

You weren’t too well versed on the dragon race, but this particular dragon you had read about before in a book once- but only briefly.  A wyvern you think it was called. 

The creature was large, as tall as the trees- one not quiet fully grown yet you imagined. Or maybe it was because the creature was folded in on itself, crouched to the ground as it tugged on it’s trapped legs- so it appeared smaller en masse. 

A large bear trap had sunk it’s sharp metal teeth into the scaled leg of the mighty creature.  With nowhere near enough space to try and fly away- trap attached or not- and no room to try and back away, shake it off or even break the chain that held the trap in place, the dragon was ultimately stuck in whining pain. 

It’s scales were that of ashen red; the color of a fine blush, but rough to the texture like brick. It’s arms were large and folded inwards, the talons of one digging into the earth to steady itself and the other crawling at the trap futility. It’s long tail was curled around it’s back and the length of it disappeared behind the tree line where you suspected it was barbed at the end.  It’s head was long, thin and had three horns- one on the end of its nose and two on either side of it’s head. 

Needless to say, it was a wonder to witness.  A dangerous wonder, but a wonder no less. 

Dragons were a very rare sight around human territory.  They hated the human race and for reasons that you couldn’t blame them for.  Years ago, you had read about a war- if you could call it that- that took place between human and dragon.  

The humans in their invincible high from all sorts of discoveries and conquering of other places had decided to set their sights on the dragons.  If they could tame the mighty beasts of the skies and elements and use them as war creatures- the people would reign over all. That’s what they had assumed. 

They had no idea just what they had signed themselves up for when they marched into Dragon Country. The doom that took place was instantaneous for the first brave and foolish group of marchers and it only got worse.

A group of nearly 400 men were slaughtered at the hands of just a few dragons who were the first to be approached as mere animals.  Burned alive, crushed, eaten, slashed into ribbons- the humans stood no chance in hell. 

Then, the dragon’s returned the favor.  If the humans wanted war, so be it.  The dragon race was smart, far smarter than the average genius human being.  With magic on their side along with their mighty strength and numbers, they took to the Humanlands and burned it to the ground. 

This pathetic war lasted no longer than a week and nearly one-third of the human population was blown away from the very beasts they had wanted to tame and use.  

The two had long since left each other alone, no one wanting to repeat the past.  Humans fear dragons due to the stories- that was unavoidable. However, dragons live long and hate even longer.  They can hold a grudge longer than that of a devil or demon.  

That is what shook you to your core as you gazed at this one single dragon caught in the woods of the Humanslands. Why was it so far from Dragon Country? Had it wandered here because of boredom? Perhaps it was banished by the king of dragons you had known about.  Or maybe this dragon was just foolish. You weren’t sure and you less sure if you’d stick around long to find out. 

The creature was a terror and the snarls and whines and cries that came from it were something that would surely haunt you in the middle of the night when you hear the wind howl. Regardless of that however, you felt pity for this dragon.  

As of the moment, it had hurt no one and you had heard no word of any dragon attacks.  It was just stuck, injured and helpless.  Before you could muster up the conscience to quietly leave, you stepped forwards just an inch and knocked a small rock from its place on a tree root.  

The dragon’s head whipped up, it’s sensitive nose finally catching a whiff of a different scent that wasn’t of Woodland descent now that it wasn’t as preoccupied with the stupid bear trap. 

It’s black coal eyes narrowed as it’s mouth opened to show its rows of white fangs that could easily devour you. A violent shiver ran through your entire body as your eyes connected with its own.  You were discovered and there was no going back down. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat felt like a massive stone was lodged inside. You took a few more shaky steps forward, showing your entire body to the beast.  It’s winged arms lifted in defensive as it’s head lowered; it’s chin becoming level with the ground and still growling.  You could see plumes of steam coming from its mouth due to it’s hot breath. 

It was clear this particular creature wanted nothing to do with you- a human- and you couldn’t blame it.  You didn’t want to be here either. This situation could end with you getting killed, but your morality and ability to sympathize with the weak or injured was larger than the risk of your safety. 

Lifting your arms to show you had nothing on you, you started to enter the small clearing.  

“Easy,” you hushed softly as the dragon snapped it’s jaw just one time in warning. You gulped again, daring to take another stupid and foolish step. “I want to help,” you said.  Earning another growl in response didn’t shock you. 

It took several minutes, a handful of snaps to stay away, constant growls and steam filled breaths for you to even get within arms reach of the trap.  You were sure that if you made one wrong move the creature would bite you in half- but you had to take a chance.  

You think the dragon knew this too.  You were the closest thing to an escape it would probably find that wasn’t going to go and tell other humans to capture or kill it. It would cooperate until it was free, you were sure of that- but after? You could only imagine. 

It’s winged arms were around you, shading you from the sunlight that the tree’s didn’t cover as your fingers brushed the cool metal of the trap. As you eyed it you wondered why someone would make such a large trap in the first place.  It seemed far too large and frankly a bit overkill for a just a bear trap.  

You look over your shoulder to see the head of the dragon that was the size of your body staring down at you just above your head. You swallowed for the nth time that morning in nervousness. 

“I’m going to try and release it,” you say. “It’s going to hurt.” 

You carefully pulled the sleeves of your dress up as you curled your fingers around the thick metal teeth.  The scales of the dragon were broken and destroyed as the trap dug into it’s reptilian-like skin. 

Blood had already begun to stain the metal. The trap’s teeth were warm- warmer than the rest of the trap due to the dragon's blood being so much hotter than an average animal or human.  It’s hot, like steamed bathwater, and it steamed the metal to warm your hands almost uncomfortably. 

You took a breath before you started to pull your arms away, fingers aching from pulling on the teeth to try and open the trap.  You had been thankful in the moment that you did indeed chop your own firewood because it built up some bit of muscle in the grand scheme of things.  The trap began to give and slowly creaked open bit by bit.  The dragon’s coal black eyes widened a fraction as it started to wriggle it’s leg. 

“Stop moving,” you hissed instinctively. If it thrashed too much, you could loose your grip and then it would just clamp down on it’s leg again. With a whining and grunting mixture of sounds, you soon pried it open enough to where you were almost certain the creature could free itself.  “Okay,” you huffed in endurance as you held it open, “move!” 

The dragon was quick to rip it’s leg out of the trap and send it, and you, off the ground.  The rapid motion tore you away from the trap, the metal scratching your fingers as you fell to your ass and then onto your back in the dirt as the trap snapped shut again away from you.  It fell to the Woodland floors empty and bloody as you hissed on your back. 

You pain and breathlessness were soon replaced by fear and anxiety when you felt the dragon you had just freed hover over you.  It’s taloned, long, winged arms were on other side of your body and it’s hind legs- one of them being the proffered injured one that still bled over it’s brick colored scales- were perched like it was ready to pounce.  

It’s nostrils were hovering above your chin as it’s eyes bore dangerously into your own.  

This was it.  You were going to die, you were almost certain of it now.  

The dragon huffed as it opened its mouth.  Small licks of fire fanned across it’s tongue in the dark cavern of it’s fang lined mouth and steam pushed from it’s nostrils like a chimney that hadn’t been opened to let out the smoke of the fire in it’s hearth.  

You were petrified, frozen in fear and weren’t even capable of breathing.  All of your senses were focused on the threat of death inches away from you and you knew that no one would know that you died.  No one would find it odd that you weren’t in the village like you were every few weeks or so. They wouldn't find it strange that your cabin was abandoned. And you were certain that they would not conduct a search for you- you didn’t matter to them in the long run. 

You were going to die and you were going to do so alone and your body would stay alone until the earth reclaimed it in it’s soil. 

The dragon only then opened its mouth further, roared into your face and then sprung off you.  It plunged into the tree line, knocking down and busting through the trees and tearing up the soil beneath its claws and talons as it escaped. Running from you and leaving you alive. 

“What,” you breathed as you soon let out a strong, almost painful, burst of air that had been held and contained in your chest.  Your heart beat strong like it would burst straight from your chest into the sky.  You weren’t sure how long you lay in the dirt just trying to regain control of your body that had been previously paralyzed. 

When you did manage to pick yourself up- albeit pathetically- you grabbed your discarded basket once again and rushed home.  

“No more outside,” you declared to yourself in the clearing of trees and the one bloody trap left behind. 

-x-x-x-

Despite the events of the day behind you, once your heart calmed itself and you were able to finally rationally think again instead of assuming you were at death’s door, your mind would flutter back to the dragon and it’s injury. 

As you carried in buckets of water from your well or logs of wood for your fireplace, you worried.  You felt silly worrying over such a mighty and strong being, but you couldn't stop that cloud from covering your mind. You wondered how it was doing or if it made its way out of the Woodlands- only briefly thinking about the damaged and torn or uprooted trees in its wake. 

You went to bed that night far earlier than usual. The blanket of black had not yet completely enveloped the sky of deep orange and red.  However, maybe the early bedtime hadn’t been a bad idea, considering you were awoken in the middle of the night anyway. 

It was a small noise in the distance.  A sound like the padding of paws of a dog running on wood or horse clops on cobblestone.  Small and forgettable, but almost irritating and grinding on the nerves of the listener.  

Crawling out of bed almost at zero energy levels from your previous encounters, you shook your head to try and shake the sleepiness away. Trudging to your door, you cracked it open to try and see if it was some foxes scraping in the glory of midnight or maybe some critter getting into trouble. Instead, when your door opened, the sounds of an eerily familiar growl filtered through the air. 

All tiredness from before flew away as you shut the door harshly and grabbed your cloak to throw over your nightdress. You rushed to your table to grab your glass covered lantern and lit it before blowing out the match and tossing it. Going back to your door you threw it open again and ran out of it.  You didn’t even bother locking it, the key still hanging on it’s key as it flopped against the wall from the air of the forcefully shut door.  

You ran through the woods, trying your best not to trip on any rocks or sticks. You let out an occasional wince from your bare feet scraping too hard on the dirt or catching on the rough end of a stone. You were going down hill when you saw in the shadows a series of trees uprooted or knocked in two with claw marks on the trunks.  

You tried skidding to a stop when the hill started to level out steadily, but there was a fat chance of that happening.  You threw open your arms and snagged a tree trunk to forcefully stop yourself from going further.  Your legs flew out in front of you far too dramatically for a spontaneous run in the woodlands at midnight as your lantern nearly flew out of your grasp.  

You huffed as you heard the same growls you had heard before echo around you.  You could hardly see, but you could tell the outline of the dragon in the darkness.  You looked around as your lantern had lost it’s flame.  

You dug in the pocket you had sewn into your nightdress and struck another match, lighting it again as the fire dimly lit up your face.  You were now fully aware you were seen- even though you knew it already to begin with.  

The dragon had previously been nipping and lapping at it’s wound with it’s split tongue before you had interrupted it’s silence.

“I knew it,” you whispered as you saw the same dragon from before.  You slowly approached it, somehow feeling a little more confident than earlier even though it still growled at you.  “Hey,” you soothe, “you know me. Just let me see,” you said as you walked around it’s curled body to it’s injured leg.  Lifting your lantern up to see better, you weren’t shocked to see the scales still wet with troves of blood.  Just how much blood did dragons have? 

If a human bled this much for this long, you were sure they’d be long dead by now. 

You carefully set your lantern aside and worked around your neck to remove your white cloak from your shoulders. “Hold still,” you instructed as you started to rather sloppily wrap the wound. You couldn’t let it just keep bleeding and it wasn’t like you had anything else to try and wrap it in- you’d just have to sew a new cloak or buy a new one in the village. 

You didn’t even take the time to be shocked that the dragon once again let you do as you pleased in aiding it’s unfortunate situation. In fact, it was silent.  There was no growling or snarling, just the sound of hissing when you brushed against the wound or wrapped your cloak around it too tight. 

When you finished, you almost pouted at the sight of your cloak already starting to dot with the dragon’s hot blood seeping through the fabric.  A loss, yes, but you felt like it was worth it from the relief you felt in your chest at the dragon’s ease of tension. 

“If you stay put,” you started, grabbing your lantern again and looking up at the dark eyes of the dragon you were becoming almost familiar with, “I can come back in the morning with something to help you.” The dragon showed no sign of obeying or denying you and you weren’t going to stick around and press the issue.  

At the end of the day, it could still very well tear you apart. 

You soon left the dragon’s side, the fire of your lantern lighting your way back home. You’d come back just as you said you would and if the dragon was still there, then you’d try and help further so that it can eventually go back home.  Even you knew that it had a home somewhere and you were sure that home was missed to some degree. 

When you returned to your cabin, you breathed a small sigh of relief when you saw that in your haste of not locking your door behind you- no nightcrawler had snuck in and wrecked your home or stole anything.  You walked inside, shutting and tightly locking up behind you as you set your lantern on your table.  

Wincing at your sore feet, you wrapped them in cloth and a paste of herbs you had in a jar to help soothe aches and pain before you tucked yourself back into bed. Hopefully, you could stay asleep until the sun rises this time. 

-x-x-x-

You were pleased to see that when you opened your eyes again, you could hear the birds and see the sunlight of what looked like late morning.  At least you managed to get some decent sleep- although you weren’t all too surprised looking back on the last 24 hours.  A lot had happened and to say it was taxing was an understatement. 

You were slow moving this morning; another thing you weren’t shocked about.  

Trudging around your cabin, you walked around in your nightdress gathering small jars of salves and ointments that could be useful to the dragon in the woods that may or may not still be there with your- no doubt- beyond salvaging cloak. 

When you finally got changed, you threw on a dress of a fairly unflattering shade of brown since you may be kneeling on the ground or thrown into the dirt again from the dragon. You wrapped up a new layer of paste for your still sore feet before pulling them into your boots. You grabbed your basket with your half-hazardly thrown together first aid treatments and left your cabin- actually locking the door this time. 

It was all a blur on what direction you rushed to last night in your sleepy, adrenaline pumped haze, but you were able to clearly see where your footsteps pressed into the soil. Following your own trail, you carefully descended the hill you flew down the night before and when it all leveled out, you smiled at seeing the dragon sleeping peacefully in the same spot you left it.  

“Good,” you breathed happily.  You were glad it stayed put- whether it was because you asked or not didn’t matter.  You would be able to help more now and nothing filled your chest with more glee than being of use to someone, or rather something in this way.  Healing was your passion after all. 

You slowly padded up to the sleeping dragon and decided against working on it while it slept.  It could spring to life and attack you out of instinct for all you knew. You sat a good distance from its body and in view of it’s line sight for when it woke up you wouldn’t be hidden. You sat on the ground, you're back against the trunk of a tree as you started digging around your basket for the folded and wrapped up herbs you had. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat in the tree shaded morning sun plucking, grinding and mixing different herbs together in a cloth draw pouched you had with you. Eventually you started to hear groans from the dragon ahead of you.  You figured that if the first thing the creature sees when waking up was you staring at it, then you’d push away any future idea of treating its leg. So, you kept yourself occupied with your herbs until it made a noise of awareness. 

A handful of minutes pass when you feel a warm wind push towards you. Instinctively, you look up to see the dragon’s dark eyes looking at you. You smile at the mighty beast, the polar opposite of yesterday’s fear stricken paralysis. 

You finished grinding a handful of mint smelling herbs between your palms to sprinkle into an oil you had with you as you swashed it around in it’s cork plugged jar.  It was odd, doing your everyday tasks with a dragon for an audience.  

When you finished, you stood up after placing the jar back under the cloth of your basket and brushed off your dress’s skirt.  You fumbled around to grab the small oval container of salve before you started to approach the dragon. 

It didn’t growl and it didn’t snarl.  It extended it’s winged arms as it’s head dropped to the ground and it’s leg that was wound with your cloak that was now a deep shade of red was pushed out further for you to inspect.  You didn’t want to let it get to your head that maybe, just maybe, this dragon was learning to trust you. 

You knew that dragon’s had to have good instincts, so maybe it just realized that you weren’t a threat. 

You carefully unwound your awfully tied cloak as you tossed it to the ground in a heap. You were glad to see that the hot blood that had been continuously seeping through brick red scales had finally stopped.  You twisted open the container and began to smear the salve over and between the thick scales to the broken skin beneath. 

You had expected them to be cooler to the touch like a lizard’s skin, but the scales and skin of the beast was warm like a freshly doused warm towel. 

The dragon let you work in peace as it watched you without disruptions or growls.  It didn’t even twitch if you touched a particularly pain-sensitive area. 

When you finished, you placed the cap back over the salve and looked up at the dragon to address it. “The bleeding looks to be done, but we should cover it with something.” You looked down at your soiled cloak. “We can’t reuse that, it’s already used and we can’t put dried blood back on a wound.” You started to walk away to your basket to place the salve back and maybe take your cloth in your basket to try and at least tuck it into it’s scales or something when something snagged your dress skirt. 

Yelping, you spun around and took a moment to process that the dragon had moved it’s winged talon to step on your dress to keep you from moving.  Looking up to its face, you saw it looked at you with a calm expression flitting through its eyes and it shook its head.  

“What?” You asked more to yourself than the dragon.  “You don’t want it to be wrapped?” The dragon only moved it’s head back to look at it’s leg before lifting it’s arm back up and freeing you.  You trotted back to the dragon’s leg and squinted at it like he was trying to tell you to. 

You gasped at seeing how the wound already looked way better than it had just twenty minutes ago.  You saw the damaged scales start to repair themselves as the skin below it’s scaled armor pulled itself back together and became covered again. You looked back to the dragon’s face, relief evident in your expression as you breathed out a sigh of happiness with a hand on your chest like a weight had been lifted off you. 

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m glad that the rumors of a dragon’s healing potential are true at least.” You went back to your basket, dropping the container of salve inside as you lifted it back into your arms. “I’m going to be on my way then,” you said. You felt a little bad for leaving so soon, but you had hardly gotten anything down yesterday because of your meeting with the beast, so you were already behind on your own personal tasks.  

You still needed to find some goldenrod and if you were honest, plucking some stuff to replace the amount of salve you used on the dragon’s leg wouldn’t be so bad either.  

As you left into the thick Woodland, you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched.  You peered over your shoulder several times and from somewhere you could almost tell that the dragon was watching you from beyond the trees.  Dragons had eyesight far stronger than human eyes, so when you felt a stare on your back, you didn’t doubt it. 

It was obvious that it couldn’t travel through the Woodlands like you could without plowing down trees in its wake and it wasn’t exactly spacious enough to spread its wings and take off in this section of the woods. 

When you left a location you could feel the eyes following you and even heard stomping in the distance of the dragon moving so it could keep you in it’s sights.  You wondered briefly why it would be following you around if not for it wanting to eat you, but you just shrugged it off.  

It was just past midday when you had finally started to depart back to your cabin. As you unloaded your basket inside your cabin and began to put everything away, you went back outside to gather a bucket of water from your well and you nearly jumped out of your skin from the sounds rustling behind your home. 

If the glimpse of horns and wings was anything to go by, you knew that the dragon had somehow squeezed around the trees and followed you back to your cabin. Even closer to human territory.  You crept around the cabin and met the dragon face to face for yet another time as you just smiled at it. It seemed relaxed and at ease to your surprise. 

“Are you going to follow me around now?” You playfully asked as all it did was let out a small huff.  “I know you can understand me,” you teased as you looked it up and down.  You felt bad mentally referred to it as ‘it’ all this time, but you had no idea how to tell what this wyvern was.  “If you’re going to follow me around girl-” your sentence was stopped short at a small growl.  You perched your brow up at the dragon as it glared down at you. “Boy?” You corrected as the unpleasant look left his eyes.  

You ticked your head a bit, nodding to yourself.  

“Okay, that settles that.” 

Throughout your day, you had the company of a dragon sitting in your yard watching you work. When you were inside, you kept the front door propped open with a piece of wood at the bottom and the windows were open so the dragon could still see you and you could still talk to him. 

You rambled- a lot.  It felt silly to be having a one-sided conversation with a dragon, but you couldn’t help it.  You didn’t want him to feel left out- as odd as it was to say in terms of the beast- so you talked about a lot of things.  Your hobbies, the process of making an ointment or what herbs to crush and mix with something to get the smell of berries.  How you cooked and what it was; you even offered him a loaf of bread; he denied it (which you were glad for because that would have been an expensive sacrifice). 

“I actually live here alone,” you speak aloud from the inside of your house so he could hear you through the open window his head rested next to on the ground outside.  “I’ve lived here all my life practicing medicine and plants. I take care of myself decently well considering I live in the Woodlands.” You paused, mixing some broth with a pot of steamed vegetables and spices you had been boiling. “My village doesn’t exactly like me or my studies all that much, so my life here works out in the long run.”

You wondered if he found your babbling annoying since he was just stuck listening to you ramble on about whatever came to mind to keep him somewhat entertained. Spilling your life story wasn’t a thrilling tale, but it was a silence filler. You figured he didn’t mind as much as you may think since he stuck around.  

When the day was ending, he made a sound of disgruntled groaning that wasn’t exactly a growl, but a sound of attention. He was apparently announcing his departure.  You waved the dragon off through the open window as he left back into the Woodlands and you assumed that this would be the final time you met him. 

You would be wrong. 

Because that following day as the sun was high at just past midday, there he was again. Steadily, he was visiting you often and he became a normal part of your life.  

-x-x-x- 

“Hey, Suga,” you called when the dragon came into view from your window as you read in the morning light.  You had started calling him by the name weeks ago when you caught him sniffing through your window at whatever you were baking at the time and accidentally sucked a bag of sugar up his nostril.  You would have called him Sugar, but he just growled at the soft sounding name, so removing the R was the best deal you could cut him.  He didn’t indicate what his name actually was, but you couldn’t just keep calling him ‘dragon’ or ‘wyvern’.  

You had some decency. 

You shut your book, setting it in the open window as you got up and made your way out.  The leg that had been injured weeks ago had healed like it wasn’t hurt in the first place.  No scar left behind and no scale left tarnished- it pleased you in all honesty. 

Walking to him, he lowered his head to the ground with a small sigh through his nostrils as you brought you hand to run along the scales of his nose and head.  It was like having a giant lizard fawn over your touch- or rather that was exactly what it was. 

“Good morning, I haven’t seen you in a few days. Did you have a safe trip?” You asked as he just let out a small swooned dragon sound.  You had gotten good at deciphering what his sounds and noises meant to a certain degree.  

You had noted that every so often he would disappear for days on end and then return- be it a few days to a week or more later.  He would travel to Dragon Country and then return to check and visit with you, or so you highly assumed. You knew that was his country and his home, so it was no shock to you that he went back. The shock was that he kept coming back to your cabin in the Woodlands. 

You had read dragons were loyal, but this was astonishing.  If regular visits with a mighty dragon was your reward for treating and freeing him from a trap, you had no regrets in doing so.  

You stopped your ministrations on his head as you turned to go check off whatever chore you had left to do this morning off your to-do list when you felt his nose push into your back.  Shoving you playfully forwards, you stumbled on your feet as you turned around with a playful smile and lifted brows. 

“Oh you wanna play that way, huh?” You riled as he just huffed steam into your face.  Your hair and dress whipped behind you as you just scoffed and jumped at him.  The dragon shot to it’s legs and winged talons, skillfully dodging your puny, human lunges.  

When you snagged your foot on your dress skirt and was ready to take a tumbling, ungraceful fall to eat dirt, his nose shot under you and caught you before you even made it close to the ground.  Hooking your wasit with his horn, he nudged you back up to your feet as you just laughed at him and stroked his nose once again in gleeful thanks.  

Suga almost purred- if dragon’s could ever.

As you spent your day with your companion, the sky started to tell you that night was coming and Suga’s departure once again was near.  You were out in the yard, sitting on the grass with your basket beside you and all sorts of herbs, a grinding stone and jars and jugs to mix and create with.  Suga lay behind you, curled around you like a protective wall, lazing away silently, but not sleeping.  Just relaxed.  

“Will you be back tomorrow?” You asked as you sprinkled some flower petals into a bottle of clear oil. He whined- a signal for no.  “Going back to Dragon Country already, huh?” He huffed in agreeance as you chuckled.  He sounded so sulky.  “Will you be gone for a while this time?” He made no noise, but his head moved to affirm a yes.  Another handful of quiet, dragonless days were in your future it seemed. “Well, be safe on your way. Watch out for traps,” you teased as he moved his body back just a bit for you to teeter backward from where you were leaning against him. 

When he left you that night, his nose pressed against your torso as your arms wrapped around it in farewell.  He had only started doing that recently- after his last trip back to Dragon Country in fact.  

You always felt a little bit colder when he left you like that. 

Four days passed and on the morning of the fifth, you had walked out of your house early in the morning with a freshly sown cloak of brick red and an empty basket.  You dreaded going into the village for a great many reasons.  But you simply couldn’t push it off any further and you needed things that only the merchants and shops in town would have.  

It helped that when strangers would come into the woodlands and see your house, they would almost always knock on your door from curiosity and you’d always take any chance to sell something of your creation for a decent amount.  

Locking your cabin door, you started your trip. You sighed. Hopefully, you’d be able to get into town and then get out just as quickly. 

Suga had returned that day as he approached your cabin.  He heard nothing inside and saw no sign of you around.  Peering into our windows, you weren’t inside from what he could tell and he pouted at not seeing you.  He lay at the side of your cabin, his head lay by your front door as he waited for you to come back.  

A few hours passed and his ears picked up on the sound of your footsteps- he had familiarized himself with the sound and weight you put into your steps- as his eyes opened ready to greet you.  However, a growl slipped past his fangs as he saw you come from the dirt trail between the trees that lead further out of the Woodlands. 

You were shocked to see him back so soon as you wiped some sweat off your brow.  Sweat that was mixed with dirt and the smallest dried patch of blood. 

You had forgotten that Suga had never seen you go into and back from your village before, so the growl pulled from his throat made you shiver.  Your forehead had a small cut about the length of your knuckle and your lip had a split in it.  Your dress had grass strains in the knees and up the side of it as specks of dirt spotted your face and neck. 

You walked to your door, setting your basket down with a cloth over it, the items you had gotten covered as you walked to Suga and placed your hand on the horn at the end of his scaled nose.  

“What is it?” You ask, oblivious that it was your current state of disarray that made him fume with unease. He pulled his horn from your palm as he moved to nuzzle his nose into your torso. You stretched your arm to stroke under his eye as you soothed him.  “Suga?” It wasn’t until he refused to move that you realized he was wondering if you were well and then you realized. “Oh,” you breathed, “I’m alright.” 

He finally moved away from you and stared at you.  You moved to pat his horn once before your fingers went under his scaled chin to lazily rub there.  He almost hummed at the actions as you smiled with your split lip.  

“This happens every time I go down to the village. Don’t worry too much, Scaly Hide.” As you soothed him, you weren’t completely aware of just how your injures made his dragon blood boil hotter than usual.  You had been nothing but kind and vulnerable and truthful to him- a dragon- for no other reason than that’s just who you were as a person.  Seeing you all cut up because of others? He found it absolutely preposterous. 

As you rubbed beneath his chin, you started talking again.  Your voice taking on a small wave of emotion he hadn’t heard from you before. 

“I’m almost jealous of you,” you told him.  His barbed tail twitched at your words. “I don’t know what the world of dragons is like, so I can’t say whether or not you understand the scorn of others. The prospect of you not having to deal with other humans though is one to be envious of.” Your eyes had a far off look of sadness that riddled his scaled body with pain. 

He pulled his head from your hand and moved to nudge it behind you. He pushed your body against the giant wall of scales that is his own body as you started laughing at him.  It wasn’t hard to understand an awkward attempt of a dragon wanting to console you. You raised your arms, reaching around what you could as you hugged his neck while his head stayed pushed against your back over your shoulder.  

Suga didn’t understand how humans could do this to others of the same race.  Dragon’s weren’t just comrades in arms in battle, but they were kin.  They were branches of family, dear friends and reliant to each other in a way that didn’t just revolve around war and destruction. Of course, his race wasn’t perfect either with the occasional rouge or traitorous dragon, but those specific turncoats were always taken care of. 

He couldn’t understand why humans hurt you, and he didn’t want to understand why. He just wanted it to stop. 

When you finally stepped away from him and got back into his line of sight in front of him the look on your face made him feel better.  It looked like you were already recovering from all the bad emotions that plagued you earlier.  He blew a small huff of steam into your face playfully as you swatted at his horn. 

“I’ve been curious,” you started, “I read once that dragons have large quantities of magic and even have a second form they can change into.  A human form that is different with each species.  Do you have one?” His chin dipped as he let out a noise of confirmation.  He did have one, though it had been years, maybe even centuries since he last changed into it. He didn’t even remember what it looked like anymore- he had forgotten about it truthfully.  

Your eyes light up in excitement at the discovery.  

“You do! That’s so cool!” Your over-excitement almost startled the poor beast. You let out a small sigh of contentment as you turned back to head inside and put your things away and to wash off the grime of your injuries.  “I kind of want to see what it looks like,” you mutter, unable to realize that your thoughts slipped out in the form of words that were just loud enough for the dragon to hear. 

Suga was quiet as he stood guard outside your home for the rest of the afternoon. The only time you left was when you went down to the small lake nearby and washed up. He was a distance away to keep anything or anyone else from intruding on your privacy.  He seemed tense, but also not- even if it didn’t make sense.  You tried asking him what was wrong with him, but he just nuzzled his head into your chest without a sound.  

When you told him goodnight he left in the same silence he had been sitting in all day.  It took a little longer for you to go to sleep because of your worry. 

The next morning, you woke up and did what you always did.  Same old routine with the label of a different day. Though, when you left your home to go and grab a few pieces of cut up wood for your fireplace, you stopped short.  Outside your door, sleeping against the side of your house on the ground was a man. 

You hadn’t seen this man before in your life and you were shocked speechless as you looked him over.  He was dressed oddly, far different than the men in your village dressed. 

His body was lean and covered in small scars around his chest, as shown from the absences of a shirt.  A long, black cape hung at his back that he used to lounge on instead of the hard, dirt ground as the collar of it was covered in fur that covered his shoulders and brushed against his chin.  His pants were brown and baggy that wrapped around his ankles and displayed his bare feet that were no doubt covered in calluses.  Red gauntlets ran from his wrists to his elbows on both arms that were crossed against his bare chest.  

You were hesitant to wake him up, but this was your cabin and it was early in the morning.  If Suga came by to see another man here, he could get defensive and that was a scenario you really didn’t want to witness. 

You knelt at his side, the door to your cabin still open behind you just in case he was hostile and you had to retreat back inside in a rush.  You reached out and grabbed his shoulder- his skin was hot. You shook him once- nothing.  

“Excuse me?” You squeaked as you shook him again.  He groaned as his head nodded off to the side before his chin dipped and you saw his brows moving underneath the fridge of his black hair. You retracted your hand when you felt his shoulders move up and heard him take in a breath of awakening.  “Sir, are you alright?” 

Lifting his head, his eye were narrow and dazed in sleep as he looked up at you. They were beautiful.  They were dark, black and shining like obsidian jewels.  They were... familiar? You squinted at him as he opened his mouth. 

“Oh,” he lazily breathed out. His voice felt like a breeze of summer wind. “You finally woke up,” he told you as you just started inquisitively at him.  

“Isn’t that my line,” you quipped back.  “Do I,” you hesitated, “have we met before?” He didn’t answer you as he just sat up straighter and raised his hand to your face.  His warm hand ran along your jaw to your lip where he pushed against the scabbed over split in it.  You flinched away from his touch as you backed away from him, your eyes locked onto his without any will power to break the contact. 

“You said you wanted to see what my human form was like,” he point forwardly told you.  You looked him over one more time before returning to his eyes.  So that’s why they looked so familiar. 

“Suga?” You asked with a pitched voice.  

“My name is actually, Yoongi,” he smirked as an unfamiliar heat rose in your cheeks.  

-x-x-x-

Yoongi’s visits continued and he often stayed in his human form around you now. He would waltz into your home with you and even started helping you with chores around the cabin.  He’s taken to splitting your firewood (although he wouldn’t use your hatchet, he’d just rip the logs in half), and would carry things for you when you were moving to and fro. He’d watch you cook and learn if you offered to teach him something. 

You had to admit that having him walking and working around with you as a human instead of a wyvern was a lot more convenient. Plus, this way he was able to have actual conversations with you.  

The season’s started to change and the cool breath of autumn began to creep into the air. You would often wonder if Yoongi would stop coming to visit when the temperature drops.  

“Yoongi?” You called as he sat in the middle of your floor in front of the burning fire.  It was late in the afternoon as you were cooped up inside away from the chilly air.  He turned to look over his shoulder at you over his fur lined cape collar.  

“Hmm?” 

“When winter comes, will you still visit me?” You asked as you took a drink from your warm tea before setting it back down on the table with the book you had been reading before.  “I mean, you’re still technically a reptile in basic regards, so you must not like the cold that much.” 

“It’s true that I don't like the cold,” he said, “I hate it.  It makes my scales rough and then that makes it tough to move around.” You let out a small, nearly silent sigh.  “However, if you get lonely, I’ll still come see you.” You looked back at him as he was staring at you completely serious.  

The conversation died after that, you not having the heart to ask him to keep visiting. You couldn’t ask that of him if he disliked the cold that much.  Surely, you’d be okay without him by your side for a few months, right? Besides, you still had until the first snow to spend with him, autumn had just started after all. 

Another week passed and you had once more traveled into the village for some items you needed that you had run out of.  It was no shock seeing a trip to the village so soon after the last considering you had been feeding and caring for Yoongi when he came to your cabin. Supplies run a lot faster on two figures instead of just one.

Yoongi had been gone the last couple days, so you assumed he’d be popping by anytime now so you went as soon as you could.  To your misfortune, when you returned once again roughed up, Yoongi was sitting in front of your cabin door waiting for you.  You had half a mind to sneak in through your bedroom window and avoid him for a bit before you let him in to avoid him seeing your freshly beat body. 

Though, you spent just enough time in mental turmoil that he had seen you already. 

He jumped to his feet, his face an expression of shock as he ran to meet you half way as you walked to your cabin.  You greeted him with a smile just as you always did.  

“Good-”

“Hush,” he shushed you as he quickly took the basket from your arms and set it on the ground at your feet.  He took your chin between his fingers and started tilting and moving your head around in different angles looking you over.  Your cheeks flushed as he stared intently at you.  You knew it was just an inspection of your wounds, but it still made your heart pound in your chest.  “They hit you again,” he growled.  

“Yoongi, it’s alright.” 

“No,” he seethed, “it is not.” You swore you started to see small wisps of smoke seep from his nose as he breathed steam.  He must be really angry, you though.  “They cannot just keep treating you like this just because you’re you.” The hand that held your chin moved to rest on your cheek before gliding up to your forehead- pushing your hair back as his hand moved to rest on the back of your head.  “Human’s really are cruel,” he whispered.  

You couldn't argue with that. 

“I’m already used to their treatment,” you attempt to sooth. The physical pain may still occur with each lashing, but you had long since grown emotionally distant from them.  They couldn’t break you any further. 

“You shouldn’t be. You should be treated with respect and kindness.” 

“Like how you treat me,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.  Yoongi paused, his hand coming down to rest on the crook of your neck, his long nails running over your pulse point as his eye softened.  

“No,” he whispered.  “I’m the only one who can treat you this way.” 

“What?” You were confused. He treated you exceedingly well and he wanted other people to treat you better too, but not like him? “That doesn’t make much sense, Yoongi.” 

“It does to me.” 

“Well, then the argument is officially over, huh?” You chuckled as he brought his hand off you and reached for your basket.  He let a smirk grace his lips as he turned and led you back to your cabin so he could help you clean your injuries. 

As he helped treat and dress your wounds and even helped you make the daily meals, he would nit pick about you going into town.  He offered to start going with you, or at least waiting on the edge of the village so he wouldn’t make a fuss in human society with his less than human approach to things, but you denied him.  

He wanted to argue with you, to let him do as he wanted, but you just told him that you usually only went on days he wasn’t with you.  It was never planned, but things just always seemed to fall in that manner.  

In the end, he yielded on the subject; however, before he left that night, he presented you with something.  A flower-sized, brick red scale.  He placed it in your palm before he left you. 

“If something ever happens, you use that scale and call for me. I’ll come flying over as quickly as I can.” You laughed at his over protectiveness.  Dragon Country was miles off from here, so it would take him more than a handful of minutes to get to your cabin depending on where in the world of his kind he was at in the given situation.  You accepted the scale nonetheless, grateful for his tender gesture.  

Everything seemed fine again for time, until Yoongi came to your cabin and saw you prepping to go into the village yet again one morning.  He scowled as he watched you pull your red cloak over your shoulders and grab your basket as you pulled on your boots.  He hid behind the wall of your home as you locked the door and were on your way. 

Yoongi didn’t want you to know he was there following you.  He stayed behind you as you walked the Woodlands trail back to society and the entire way he pouted that you had once again not told him you were going.  

He stood on the outskirts of the village that brought you harm, sitting high up in a treetop to avoid being seen. He knew going into the village after you would get him caught and he knew that if someone even looked at you strangely, he’d probably snap. 

He sat there for a while, just waiting and watching until you finally showed up again, ready to head back home.  His back straightened as he almost smiled seeing you unharmed. He was going to jump down and greet you, fess up that he had followed you and let you scold him as he walked you back home, but before he could even begin moving, he stiffened. 

Knelt on the tree branch he hid behind the brown, red and yellow leaves that hadn’t fallen to the ground and the black of his cape as a group of boys not much older than yourself ran up behind you.  You were just at the tree line of the Woodlands when they had taken your basket from you and shoved you from behind, making you fall to your knees with a cry. 

He was technically in Woodland territory, he had no problem showing himself outside of your village.  

As you rolled onto your back, ready to shove your way to your basket and scurry away just as you had a million times before, something fell from the treetops behind you.  Twisting your body, you only saw a blur shoot past you before one of the three boys was on his ass in the dirt groaning.  

Turning back to your front, your mouth dropped open.  

“Yoongi?!” One boy had helped the other off the ground as the last was squaring up to start a scrap with this random guy who had popped out of the Woodlands.  You wanted to shoot up and tell them to stop it and leave Yoongi alone, but they froze before you could even warn them.  

The three of them swallowed as they started taking small steps backward in retreat.  

Yoongi had tensed his whole body, fingers curled with his claws out.  His face had scales trailing from his cheekbones to his chin as his eyes seeped with complete blackness.  It was like his hair was standing on end as he snarled and raised his lips to bare his fangs at the offenders.  He was daring them to try him.  

Anyone with two eyes, even one eye, could clearly see this man was a dragon and nothing short of a fierce one who didn’t know how to stand down.  Not willing to pick a fight with a being of that caliber and not being properly prepared to boot, the trio turned tail and ran back into the village.  

It was deathly silent as they retreated and Yoongi’s body seemed to relax as you started at his back. His still shoulders went slack as his squared and ready to pounce stance calmed and straightened back out.  His hair settled and the small growls you had heard before disappeared.  

“Uh, Yoongi?” You call softly, not knowing if he was going to whip around and start yelling at you or not.  

He did not.  

He calmly walked to the basket they had taken from you, picking it up and walked back to your side.  He set it down before he grabbed your arms gently and started to pull you off the ground.  Once you stood on your feet, he straightened out your cloak as you brushed off your dress skirt.  

“What are you doing out here?” You asked him, but he didn’t answer you. He just placed his hand on the small of your back, turning you around before he gently pushed you forward to start you off back into the Woodlands and back to your cabin.  

No matter how you tried to talk to him, he never answered the entire trip.  He was completely silent and he didn’t give you any facial ques on what his problem was either.  He stayed quiet, a still canvas  all the way into your cabin where he sat your basket on your table then sat himself in front of your fireplace that wasn’t even lit yet.  It was like the might dragon was pouting.

“Yoongi, please just come over here,” you plead.  You walk behind him as you see his shoulders slump in a silent sigh before he’s standing in front of you again.  He turns and looks down at you and instead of an angry look in his eyes like you were expecting, you see them shine with unshed tears. “Yoongi-” 

He pushes the words from your throat out of you as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and pushes you face into his warm, bare chest.  He lets out a small, shaky breath as his hold tightens around you.  The hand on the back of your head holding you to him felt desperate and sad. You reach around him and snag you hands on the inside of his fur lined cape behind his back. 

“I was worried about you,” he all but whimpers.  “I know I shouldn’t have followed you, but you didn’t tell me that you were going to that village again and I just couldn’t stop myself.  I was so relieved to see you unharmed as you were leaving, but then those scumbags,” he cut himself off with a harsh breath.  “Does that really always happen to you?” 

You nod and give a weak ‘yes’ in reply.  

“No more,” he tells you. “I won’t let it happen anymore. I’ll keep you safe and I’ll protect you from them.  Even when winter comes, I won’t stop visiting you. I’ll keep coming back, I promise.” You wanted to deny him, tell him not to worry about it since he can’t stand the cold.  But, you felt selfish and you wanted him to keep coming back.  You wanted him to dote on you and to keep you safe like he says. 

“I’ll be relying on you then,” was all you told him. When the moment is past, you pull away from his warm chest to look up at him with a playful grin. “You’re pretty pushy when it comes to my safety, it’s almost cute.” 

He shoves you at your jest as he tells you to sit down and go unpack your things.  He plops himself back in front of the fireplace, huffing a ball of fire to get it going in a hurry.  You weren’t sure if it was the light from the fire or not that painted his cheeks pink. 

-x-x-x-

You went without village harm for a month now.  Just as he said, Yoongi was at your side at least every other day instead of a few days away at a time.  He’d always ask if you were alright or anyone had given you any trouble. He knew when you were lying, he had gotten good at telling apart your quirks, so when you told him you were alright he was always relieved. 

The weather kept getting colder and you kept getting more concerned about Yoongi’s choice to go against the cold to come see you as often as possible.  You always thought about how to tell him to not come after the first winter snow to help his overall health; you just had to figure out a way to phrase it so that he’d actually listen. 

It was one of those nights where you hadn’t gotten to sleep very early with your thoughts, and you had just drifted to sleep.  You were somewhere between unconscious, yet aware as you briefly heard something in the distance.  You weren’t awake enough to care and you weren’t aware enough to think it was something other than the nighttime animals. 

A handful of minutes pass when you’re suddenly ripped from your sleep just as you were equally ripped from your bed.  A grip on the back of your nightdress yanked you from your side sleeping position and pulled the fabric against your neck as you choked out a surprised gasp. 

You kicked your legs in panic, your blanket hitting the floor of your room as you were pulled off your mattress and onto the floor.  Hands grasped your biceps and began to drag you backward. You finally found your voice in the form of small screams and protests. You stumbled from the balls of your feet to your heels as you were pulled backward through your cabin before you were through the front door and on the ground. 

Laying in the dirt and covered in goosebumps from the cold night air, you rolled to your back and propped yourself up with your elbows to see who just evicted you from your home.  You shouldn’t have been shocked to see a band of men from the village, yet you were. You instantly started trying to scoot backward on your elbows and heels.

They were covered in furs and boots with torches in hand to light their way through the darkness.  You looked at them in fear and confusion.  What were they doing this far from the village and why were they here at all? 

“What are you doing?!” You scream, your heels kicked into the dirt as your nails dig into the earth trying to back you away from one oncoming man, a blond one. You squirmed as one of his feet kicked at your wrist and pushed your back to the ground as he grabbed you by the collar of your nightdress.  You whined, grabbing his wrist as you grimaced with squeezed shut eyes.  

“You witch,” he accused as you peeked open your eyes. “We’ve let you live close to us, but you’ve gone and made a pact with a demon- a dragon!” Your eyes widened.  Is this because Yoongi just popped out of nowhere a month ago when he followed you? 

“You’re wrong!” You denied.  You had no pact with him.  He was just- you paused mentally. Was Yoongi a friend to you? You had been unconsciously thinking that for several weeks, but saying that out loud and admitting it to yourself as well as someone else- friendship didn’t feel like it did it justice.  Was the connection you had with the dragon you saved from that trap- the same dragon who snarled in your face and decided not to kill you all those weeks ago- really just a friend?  You swallowed.  

Your breath lurched in your throat when the grip of your collar was released in turn for the hand to now encase around your throat fully.  You gagged for a moment as the blond’s nails burned against your skin.  

“Ransack the place!” The man who held your throat shouted over his shoulder.  The two other men with him ran into your cabin and your squeezed shut eyes opened.  You shoved the man’s hand off you, your neck burning as you pushed against his chest.  He fell on the dirt as he groaned. 

“Don’t! Leave my cabin alone!” You cried as you scurried to your feet.  You didn’t get far before your ankle was grabbed and your leg yanked back.  You tumbled ungracefully onto your chest, your nightdress riding up your legs and bum as you felt a weight on your back.  The blond was sitting on you as you kicked.  He held one of your arms behind your back and his other hand pushed your cheek into the dirt, holding your head down.  “Stop it!” You cried into the earth as you heard sounds of destruction in your home.

Glass being thrown to the ground and broken, your shelves being pulled from the wall.  You heard doors of cabinets opening and slamming shut after everything was pulled from them.  The distant sounds of mess told you they were evening throwing things around in your room.  You weren’t sure what they were looking for- evidence? But for what? Your connection with Yoongi to use against you?

“Hey!” One called from inside.  “I found something!”  Footsteps came back outside and stopped above your head.  You were yanked up to sit on your knees- nightdress dirty and covered in small tears and frays of fabric- as the blond behind you snagged a hand in your hair pulling your head to look up.  You winced as your eyes instinctively shut in pain before your chin was grabbed in a new hand.  

A man stood in front of you, brown hair and accusatory eyes. In front of you, he dangled the scale of Yoongi’s he had given you that you had placed inside of a glass locket to keep it safe. You jolted in the blond’s grip, ripping your chin from the brunettes touch. 

“Don’t touch that!” You screamed. The blond restrained you tighter.  “Stop! That hurts!”  You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. 

You weren’t sure how long those men kept you outside your home as they continued to trash it. You were less sure how long you were out in the cold, pinned to the ground and jerked around like a toddlers ragdoll.  

Stomps to your legs to keep you from crawling or getting up and away.  Jabs to the stomach to subdue you just long enough to restraining you as you tried to get your breath back.  Knocks to the head to try and knock you out as you kept on fighting back.  The cold was starting to get to you, your fingers and toes going numb.  Scraps on your knees and elbows from the cold, autumn chilled dirt.  

You were on your back on the ground, the same blond over your, pushing your face down as your arms were trapped under his knees that pinned you on either side.  

You were close to giving up.  You were going to lose your home- you expected them to set it on fire- and you were going to no doubt end up losing your life if this kept up.  Would they take you back to the village and execute you?  Tears trailed down the side of your face as you chewed on your lip. 

This wasn’t fair.  

“Yoongi,” you whimpered as your palms pushed into the earth, the dirt and rocks pushing into your skin just painful enough to keep you conscious.  

It seemed instantaneous to you. It felt like a whirlwind just formed at the center of your small world as the gusts of wind blew around you.  The man above you was blown off as he rolled in the dirt away from your tired, weak, and beaten body.  Whimpers of terror rang in your ears from the other men as growling accompanied those whimpers. 

Stomping and rushes of heat surrounded you with ignited sparks in the night sky.  You managed to push yourself over to weakly roll onto your side and twist onto your stomach to look up at exactly what was happening.  You didn’t see anything in front of you other than your cabin and the three men all on the ground cowering from the sight of something. 

Your dazed eyes narrowed before you heard another growl and the feeling of something massive standing over you.  Coming to a stomping halt at either side of you with distance to spare and to not make you feel suffocated, your eyes widened.  You felt more awake now than the rest of the evening.  

Twisting to look up, you were met with the mighty, giant form of the wyvern you had freed from the metal trap of men.  Snarling with bared fangs and small puffs of fire on his tongue, Yoongi stood over you protectively.  

Tears ran down your shocked face without your control at seeing him really showing up at your side when you truly, desperately needed him with you. You felt weak, but before your body could slump onto the ground, something grabbed you.  

Another new body had looped their arms under yours to keep your chest off the ground and held you to them.  You didn't recognize this person as you looked up at them.  Another man, but this seemed far more mystic.  

Snow white eyes with no iris or pupils to sit in their seas of white.  Illuminated scales of white shone on their cheeks and their ears were pointed and finned.  Hair as silver as the moon and skin as tanned as cooper.  Was this another dragon?  You couldn’t tell anymore; all you knew was that you felt safe in this person’s arms with Yoongi above you. 

You slumped against them, your consciousness finally starting to fade on you with the adrenaline running low now that you felt a sense of safety.  You couldn’t lose it yet, however; you had to calm Yoongi down.  The men had stopped their attack in fear, so Yoongi didn’t need to instigate further. 

“Yoongi,” you called weakly against the second dragon’s chest.  “Don’t,” you pleaded.  There was a small hush before the wind picked up and the stomping that was present before was replaced with harsh footsteps. Yoongi had reverted back to human form as he ran at the blond man who had previously held you down. 

Yoongi’s long claws tore and pierced through the shirt fabric of the blond’s collar as he brought him up to his nose, snarling down at him.  His fists shook in rage as his body trembled with restraint in your presence.  Had you not been there, he was certain he would have killed all three of them without hesitation. 

He picked the blond off the ground just enough to make his toes leave the grass as he threw him at the other two. He huffed, steam blowing out of his nose as his face remained angry. 

“You ever come back here and I, as Y/n’s personal dragon, will tear you apart,” he threatened.  “Now, leave!” He roared as the three men scrambled embarrassingly to their feet and down the trail back to whatever hole they crawled out of. 

Yoongi huffed, breathless as he quickly heard your whimpers behind him.  He spun around, rushing back to your side as he knelt on the ground beside you and took you from the other dragon’s grasp.  He ran the back of his fingers along your cheek as you saw him.  His calm, worried face brought you a sense of peace as you knew the trouble had left.  

“Rest,” he whispered as you finally lost yourself to the unconsciousness that had been choking you around the throat.  

-x-x-x-

You groaned slightly as your eyes cracked open. You were on your back as your lidded eyes were blurred staring up at the ceiling of your room.  You were in a haze as you looked into nowhere.  Thoughts were muddled in your head as you were aware of nothing for a handful of minutes, still high from sleep and drowsiness.  

The sun shone through your open window as you heard the birds outside sing.  It was bright- far brighter than you were used to waking up to.  

It all came back to you all at once like a punch to the jaw.  Memories of being dragged out of your bed, your home, to outside and pummeled until you were weak in the dirt as your home was broken into and wrecked.  

Your arms shot up from under your blanket as they threw the covers off and you sat up straight as a rob.  You sucked in a deep breath that hitched in your throat from the sudden movement that clouded you with a wave of dizziness.  

Your palm moved to push into your forehead as your eyes squeezed shut and you hissed.  Cracking them open, you felt something burn into your side like someone staring at you.  Looking beside your bed, you weren’t wrong.  

Sat on a stool beside your bedroom door was that same unfamiliar dragon with snow white eyes from the night before. You stared back at the unmoving dragon.  Was he… sleeping?  His eyes were open, but his arms that were crossed didn’t even twitch and his body was still as a corpse.  He sat straight up and showed no signs of movement.  

Did some dragon’s sleep with their eyes open? Yoongi didn’t, but maybe other breeds did. 

“It is a relief to see you’ve awakened,” he suddenly spoke.  You squeaked in shock, not expecting him to do- much less say- anything. “It has been a handful of hours since you lost consciousness.”

You looked away from him as you looked down at your lap.  You scrunch your blanket in your palms, the same palms that you were finally starting to feel the stinging sensation of when you were thrown to the dirt.  The small cuts and scrapes on your knees and legs and arms all started to tingle with an indescribably unpleasant feeling.  

“So, that wasn’t just a nightmare after all,” you sulked to yourself.  

“It seems that Sire holds a great deal of worry about your condition.” 

Your brows drew close together in confusion.  

“Excuse me?” You asked, confusion painting around your eyes.  This dragon with no expression and no irises with the pure white eyes just stared at you. “Sire? Who are you talking about? No,” you cut yourself off, shaking your head. “Who are you?” You re-ask, wanting to know this stranger dragon first.  He was just sitting in your room watching over you, you figured an introduction wasn’t out of the question. 

The dragon brought a webbed hand up to their chest, lowering their head to you in a small bow.  You recoiled at such an action.  No one had bowed to you before in your life- that was reserved for royals and people of importance. Not someone like you, a Woodlands hermit. The action made a blush fan across your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“I am Navia. I work under Sire as the leader of the Dragon Guard of His Majesties palace.  I apologize for not introducing myself earlier. It is a pleasure, My Lady.” His voice was smooth like the surface of a peaceful lake surrounded by nature.  His usage of honorifics only made the embarrassing red cheeks of yours darken. 

“Y-you don’t need to address me like that!” You sputtered as you twisted on your bed to slide your legs out of your covers and hang them over the bedside.  “Just Y/n, is fine. I don’t need any titles,” your voice wavered in embarrassment as the white eyes of Navia returned to you. 

“I do not know if I will be able to address you so casually. It may displease him.” 

“You keep mentioning someone; Sire? Who is that exactly?” Navia never got a chance to answer when their was three knocks on your bedroom door before it was opened.  The redness in your cheeks was broken and a smile pulled on your lips on seeing Yoongi in your doorway.  “Yoongi!” You happily called as he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling in front of you taking your hands into his own. 

“How long have you been awake? Are you in pain?” 

“I haven’t been up long, I was just talking to Navia and introducing ourselves. I don’t feel particularly good, but I don’t feel particularly bad either. Though, I feel better than I did if that’s anything to be accounted for.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at your smile. You talked so easily and so soon after you were attacked so brutally.  He wondered where you found the strength to do so.  If he was in your position he’d be a pot of boiling rage, but he didn’t sense anything like that from you.  Yet, instead he could see the sorrow behind your eyes. 

“Navia,” he spoke as the dragon behind him stood at the call of his name. “Give us a moment,” Yoongi’s voice was stern with instruction. 

“As you wish, Sire.” You looked at Navia as he left. You looked back down to Yoongi who was already looking at you as if you were the only thing he wanted to look at for the remainder of his life.  

“Sire? So, he’s been talking about you?” You quirked your brow as Yoongi’s hand left yours and moved to cup around your cheek.  “Yoongi?” 

“There is a lot I haven’t told you and there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I didn't mean to lie- to keep it from you, but I just never had the chance to bring it up. Things about me I’ve kept from you.” You remained silent as he spoke no more.  You both sat in silence for a while as you gathered your bearing.  

Yoongi had taken to tending to you.  You showed him once how to properly wrap bandages around wounds, and so he did.  He wrapped any wound that seemed painful (which was many to his eyes) before he was helping you off your bed. 

“Yoongi, I’m not so hurt I can’t walk myself,” you chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your back to support you.  One of your arms clutched at the cape behind him as the other supported your balance on his chest.  He held you to his side as he was careful not to rush his steps and trip you up. 

“Still, you’re in no condition to be completely independent right now. Allow me to help you.” You almost scoffed at his aid as if you weren’t able to handle yourself, but you did appreciate it- especially when he didn’t need to offer such kindness.  

As he helped you out of your room, you were shocked to see not a trashed cabin like you expected, but it was almost completely clean aside from the broken cabinet doors that sat against the wall in a pile.  Whatever would have been broken was picked up and things were on the counter and on the table out of the way and where they belonged.  A fire was even lit in the hearth of the fireplace.  

You looked up to Yoongi. Did he clean it up? He helped you to the table where he sat you down on the chair by the window where you would normally drink something warm.  You felt a little bad you hadn’t set out a plate of feed for the birds and critters today- but allowed yourself a pass considering your situation. 

Navia was sitting by the fireplace as he watched the two of you.  Yoongi moved to sit on the table’s edge- as unmanneristic as it was, it somehow suited him.  He was in front of you against the wooden table, his fingers brushing along your cheek that had a patch over it to cover your cuts. 

“Where would you like me to start, Scale?” He asked you. Your face deepened when he addressed you like that.  Was that his form of a nickname? You shook the thought away as you opened your mouth. 

“My cabin, I guess?” You realize you didn’t give him much of a specific answer. “I mean, I was expecting it to be a nightmare, but it’s so clean?” 

“That is because I cleaned it up,” he softly told you with a small smile.  So, you were right.  “The times I have been here, I was familiar with the placements of most of your belongings.  Others I admit I guessed, but I couldn’t leave it like it was.  You have enough to worry about.” 

“Well, thank you for that,” you graciously tell him.  

“It was nothing.” You spent a good portion of that day talking to Yoongi where you were.  If you wanted to get up and move to take a break from the flood of answers to any question you had, he would help.  Navia would walk around and do small chores for you if you were kind enough to ask- or have Yoongi tell him to. The tanned dragon was awfully obedient, yet kind to a fault it seemed. 

The shortened days of winter were showing as the sky started to progressively darken.  You watched it from the window of the cabin you had been in all day.  It had been a long time since you spent all your time inside without much of anything to do. It was relaxing even if under unpleasant circumstances.  

Yoongi had handed you a mug of something warm for your throat as you thanked him and took small, cautious sips due to its heat.  Yoongi watched you as you watched outside, the occasional chuckles slipping past your lips when you saw birds or squirrels chase each other around. 

“Y/n,” Yoongi called as Navia had taken his place back by the fireplace.  He was, unsurprisingly, not fond of the cold so he had stuck to the fireplace like glue as often as he could. “Do you want to leave this cabin?” 

His question caught you off guard.  You lowered your mug to the table top as you looked at him. 

“What?” 

Yoongi’s mouth was pressed into a thin line as his eyes were narrowed in a veil of anxiousness.  In truth he didn’t want you to live here anymore.  What happened the night before could very well happen again and what if he didn’t get to you in time next time? What if next time they drag you off or even kill you? He couldn’t handle that.  He didn’t even want to think about it. 

“If I left,” you chuckled bitterly as you looked back outside, “where would I go? I can’t just live in a cave or in trees.” 

“You could come back with me.” There was silence in the cabin’s front room.  The sound of the fire crackling and the small sounds from outside your walls.  “Come back with me to Dragon Country and live there.” 

“That’s impossible,” you told him. “I am no dragon. How could I live there?” You half expected Navia from behind to slip into the conversation and throw in his opinion on the matter.  You, a human leaving the Woodlands and running off to live in Dragon Country? There was no way, it was preposterous. “Why take me back anyways?” 

“Dragon’s are only able to choose one being to become absolutely loyal to without fault in their lives.  We live for years, decades, centuries.  The oldest of dragon’s can live for hundreds of human lifetimes, so we are especially picky when it comes to our choice.”

“What does that have to do with me?” You asked. 

“I said so before, I am your dragon.” That’s right. You did remember him saying that in his rage the night before.  Something about being your personal dragon and threatening the men not to try another attack stunt again. 

“So, then-”

“I chose you,” he admitted. You felt your air leave you in silent waves.  “Out of all things I’ve met of my years alive, you were the first to treat me kindly without expecting anything in return.  You were my first in many things that warmed my being. That is why I want you to come back with me.” 

You opened your mouth then shut it again before you shook your head, trying to process his words.  You took a shaky breath and looked back to him again. 

“Say I agreed, isn’t it too dangerous? I mean, you might be with me, sure, but I’m still just a human woman. What could I possibly do so you wouldn’t have to protect me all the time? Wouldn’t I just be a constant risk?” 

“That would not be the case,” he told you sternly. “I would see to it that every dragon be made aware of who you are. Once they know, they wouldn’t dare lay a talon on you unless they’re turncoats.” Yoongi sounded so serious, you almost believed him. “They would treat you better than these humans ever have,” he promised. 

“How are you so sure?” You narrowed your eyes at him, challenging his word.  He sure sounded high and mighty for proposing something that sounded so risky. 

“Because I’m your dragon,” he repeated.  You almost groaned and rolled your eyes.  You felt like you were running in circles with him. 

“What does that have to do with anything?” So what? You get to boss around and rely on a dragon. As legitimately remarkable as that is, you didn’t seem to connect that to your safety in his country. 

“Because my Master in question- you- would be commanding the dragon in charge of Dragon Country.” There was a beat of silence. 

What. 

“So, you’re claiming to be what? The King of Dragon Country? Am I just supposed to believe that?” 

“Yes, you are.” He told you with a straight face.  There was no sign of lying or hesitation. He seemed so sure and serious of himself that you were questioning yourself of his truth.  

“But that’s-”

“If I may,” Navia spoke, cutting you off from behind you as Yoongi shot him a glare for interrupting you.  You turned to look at the white-eyed dragon as his tanned skin shone with the fire’s casted light. “It’s wise to know that the King detests liars and lies in general.” 

Your eyes widened as you whipped your head back to Yoongi who was still shooting the other dragon a look before he returned his sights back to you.  

“Oh my Gods, you’re serious.” 

The night concluded a long, well-rounded talk about just who Yoongi really was.  Finding out he was a king was one thing, but it was harder to understand that you were now in charge and in command of that king.  You felt simultaneously all powerful and powerless. 

In the end, you did agree to go back with him; however, under one condition. 

-x-x-x-

You sat at your desk in your room, scribbling line after line of ink on a piece of parchment.  It had been a week since your ‘unfortunate situation’ as you called it and you were healing well.  You fixed your cabin the best you could and moving around like normal again was easier by the day.  You could already almost chop firewood again- not that you actually were. You had no reason to stock up anymore.

On your bed was a bag.  One that was large and had the flap open to show the contents inside.  A few folded dresses and one of your leather corsets that wasn’t completely ruined.  Jars and bottles of salves, potions, crushed herbs, flowers, and sacks of roots and leaves.  Even your favorite cup and a knowledgeable book about medicine.  All neatly packed. 

You stretched as you leaned back in your chair and looked out the window to your room.  You smiled as a bittersweet feeling fluttered in your stomach.  

You looked down at the letter you had just finished as you folded it up and placed it inside of an envelope before writing the name of to whom it would be addressed on the front.  

Your windows rattled with a gust of wind outside. You smiled as you got up from your desk and grabbed your bag.  You tossed the flap of ti over the bag, the large button in the flap of it looping through a latch to close it securely.  You threw the long strap over your shoulder as you grabbed the letter from your desk and opened your bedroom door. 

You stopped, turning to look at the room once more.  It was clean, bed made and everything neat and tidy. You smiled sadly at your space before you said goodbye to it.  You felt silly saying farewell to a room. 

When you walked into the main room, Yoongi had already let himself in.  He smiled at you when he saw  you.  Just as you had asked him a week ago, he had left you alone for the last 7 days. That was your condition, even if he grumbled about it.  You wanted one last week on your own in your lifelong home- that was all. 

He walked to you and grabbed your arm gently before bending to softly push his lips against his cheek.  You jolted as you covered your skin with your hand. 

“What was that for?” You asked, flushed. 

“Simply, because.” 

“That is not an answer,” you scowled.  “Did Navia come with you?” You asked peering around his back to look.

“Of course he didn’t.  I don’t need an escort.” 

“Of course you don’t,” you giggle. You walked around your cabin, running your fingers over the surface of your counters, your fireplace’s bricks, your dining table and around the window frames.  You took everything into your memory even though this was the only home you ever had. Maybe that was why you felt like crying. 

“Are you unwell?” Yoongi asked, coming up behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders.  He could see how hard this was for you even without you looking at him directly.  He knew this was his selfish wish, but if you really wanted to stay he wouldn’t drag you away.  

“I feel like I'm homesick, but I haven’t even left yet,” you chuckle as your eyes stung.  One of Yoongi’s hands moved to rest on your head as he pushed his cheek against the top of his hand to lean against your head.  

“It will be alright,” he soothed.  

“I know,” you chocked.

You spent a little while longer in your lifelong home before you felt like you were finally as ready as you’d ever be to leave.  You feared if you stayed too much longer you’d root into your floorboard and then you’d never move again. As you walked out of the house, you took the key that hung on the inside of the door frame and took it out with you.  You didn’t lock the cabin door, instead you placed the key on the outside doorknob. 

This cabin would be welcoming to anyone who needed it, that was what the key hanging outside the space signified.  

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Yoongi asked for the umpteenth time, earning him an eye roll from you. 

“Yes, now take me away or else I’ll start ugly crying.” He chuckled before he was walking with you out of the Woodlands and when you reached the edge of the lands, he transformed into his wyvern form.  You climbed onto his neck just behind his head so you could clutch onto his horns (or his ears, whichever worked best with your grip) before he was flying off with you completely.  

Leaving that cabin, the humans and one single letter on the dining table addressed to ‘Villagers’ behind for good.  

-x-x-x-

“Father! Look, is this what you were talking about?” A small child cheered as he ran through the Woodlands and came across a small cabin that was covered in overgrowth.  The wood had been overrun with vines and moss. Small tree saplings sprung from the wood above on the roof and weeds overtook the ground that was once all dirt.  The trunk that had once been used to chop wood years and years ago had a sapling of a new tree ready to grow in the next hundred years. 

Nests of birds, holes and burrows of moles and squirrels littered the area. 

The child ran around the perimeter of the cabin, eyeing it up and down as small plumes of red smoke puffed through their nostrils in excitement.  

“I’ve never seen a human house before!” 

“Juilius, come back to me before you trip or get caught in a vine.” 

The child trotted back to his father who had come to the Woodlands simply to show his son what the home of a human looked like.  Although, times have changed and this is certainly not how humans lived anymore.  This cabin was long forgotten to time and nature had long since reclaimed it. 

The visit was short and sweet to a degree as the child was soon ushered to be ready to leave.  “Your mother wants you home at a reasonable time. We can’t keep her waiting.” 

“I’m coming,” the child cheered as he started leaving the Woodlands with his father’s hand in his own. “Will I get to fly part of the way back this time? I swear I can!” 

“Alright, you can until we hit the first mountain peak; but don’t tell your mother.”

“I won’t!” He promised.  

Landing peacefully in Dragon Country and arriving safely at the palace, the child giggled happily to himself on how well he was able to fly on his own and how his wings were getting stronger day by day.  

“Yes, but you still can’t retract your scales yet, now can you?” His father teased.  Juilius pouted as his brick red scales refused to fade in his human form.  

“Well,” a voice called to them in a happy tone. “You look just like your father when you pout like that with your scales out.” 

“Mother!” Juilius cheered as he ran to his mother’s arm, clinging to her as he was picked up and nuzzled into her neck.  “Father took me to the Woodlands today. He said that there was a cabin in the woods where you used to live, so he let me see it!” 

You blinked down at your blush-cheeked scaled child. “Oh did he? I hope he didn’t let you fly at that dangerous height.” 

“Nope!” The child grinned as innocent as can be- keeping his promise to his father in the small little white lie. 

“You always assume the worst of me. Don’t you, Scale?” Yoongi teased as he came to your side with your child on your chest as his legs kicked playfully on either side of your hips.  He was young, only a decade old. He was still a hatchling when it came right down to dragon ages. 

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

“Mother, can you tell me about the humans?” 

“You’re always so curious about them. Why do you want to know, Hatchling?” 

“Well, you used to be one right? Father said you only got your scales and horns when you came here.” 

“Well, then that is going to be a long story. It’s only right if your father helps tell part of it too. It is his fault I became a dragon in the first place,” you looked at Yoongi as he cleared his throat. “Isn’t that right, Your Majesty.” 

“I really don’t know what you could be referring to,” he sheepishly retorted, looking away.  As Juilius tried annoying the answer out of his father, he just shushed him. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“That’s not fair,” the child pouted. 

“My Lady,” your attention was called from Navia who had finally tracked you down. His white eyes glowing down the halls like nighttime fireflies as he approached.  “A new hatchling was born in the valley this morning and it’s mother asked if you would be gracious enough to name them.”

Your eyes shined. “I’d love to,” you said as you set Juilius down and kissed his forehead.  You moved to kiss Yoongi’s cheek as you allowed Navia to escort you away. The dragon child took his father’s hand.  

“So, what mother said about how she became a dragon; why do I need to wait until I grow up to know? Is it some kind of big dragon secret?” Yoongi’s face flushed as he cleared his throat again and was soon leading his son off somewhere else to clean up after his day out. 

“I already told you, not until you’re older.” 

Who knew that the exchanging of the blood and saliva of the king of dragons was able to gradually change humans into dragons? Yoongi certainly never knew until one morning you woke up with scales dusting your cheeks after a rather specific night.

To which would soon be the outcome of the pestering royal child, Juilius. 

-END-

[darthwheezely]

a change of heart - g.w.

summary: falling out of love was the last thing they had wanted.

pairing: muggle au!george weasley x reader

warnings: mentions of break ups, sex, cussing, ouid, heartbreak, no happy endings, apathetic!george, domestic fights, mean!reader (at times), insinuations of depression, toxic relationship

a/n: this is my first angst without a happy ending and honestly it feels very last 5 years to me and i was in a bad mood yesterday so this happened i love you all mwah xoxo

are we awake?

am i too old to be this stoned?

George blinked in what felt like slow motion at the crumbling ceiling above him as he took another long drag of his joint. He breathed out, his lungs and mind relaxing under a slimy green haze. The bed was spongey, destroyed from one too many sexual escapades and one night stands and full body tantrums that left him kicking and screaming.

His mind never really woke up after the day you packed up and took the bus downtown back to your parent’s. He usually laid there in a collapse of old cassette tapes and cannabis flecks, generally shirtless and wearing wear bleached boxers and lost.

George was never really awake after you.

was it your breasts from the start?

they played a part

You were stunning to him that day in London. You always were. That hadn’t been any different. But the day you walked into the pub everything about you just ached to be adored, he thought. He wanted to know what it was like to attach his mouth to the skin of your collar bone and nibble, knead at your breasts and have his fingers gripping your thighs the second you struck up a conversation.

“Two whiskeys and a beer later and I still don’t know your name,” he gave a little half smile and watched you bite your lip, a chuckle erupting from your throat.

“Y/N.”

“No last name?”

“Don’t need one, not yet anyway. You?”

He looked at you softly and nodded to himself.

“Let’s see if I can change that. I’m George.”

George needed you. Or at least, he thought he did.

for goodness’ sake

i wasn’t told you’d be this cold

He passed out on the couch, the old and relatively shitty TV left on static due to inactivity and refusal to be fixed.

You were supposed to have date night. At least, that’s what George thought. He knew you’d be out and about all day at work and then picking up dinner on the way home, but when you stumbled through the door at 2am, he shot awake. And in a flash of anger, he just picked up on the idea that date night didn’t really matter to you then, at least not tonight.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking baby me,” you had growled, looking at him with streaks of mascara running down your face. You sniffles and wobbled off to the bathroom, leaving an albeit confused George on the couch. He listened to you cry in the bathroom, and suddenly realized it didn’t matter if you were pissed at him or scared or whatever was happening.

At least you came home.

you smashed a glass into pieces

that’s around the time i left

“Fine,” you had shouted, picking up the now empty wine glass from the table and throwing it at the cabinets across from you.

The night had started off fine, the dinner was neutral - that had been your new normal with George. Neutral. You two weren’t really angry anymore, just tired. Until you both got in that heated argument and were screaming, the radio getting blown out your earshot due to the high intensity yelling in the room.

The minute the glass hit the cabinet you jumped ever so slightly, not really realizing you had done it, but knowing the lashing out of yourself had scared you just enough. You had let out a choking whimper and quickly enough, your boyfriend had rushed over to you and held you up.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed against his chest. “Georgie, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at me anymore.”

He knew you weren’t really apologizing for a wine glass, or missing a date or two. He knew it was everything, and the idea that you were getting blamed for it all in your mind due to things you didn’t feel safe telling him about crushed him.

“My sweet girl,” he cooed, his nose and mouth pressing into the top of your head.

He pulled off the top of your head, brushing the tears from underneath your eyes “I love you so much, and you can push me away as hard and as much as you want but I’ll come right back, every single time.”

You nodded and fell back into his arms, and George regrettably swallowed.

He had just made a promise he knew he wouldn’t keep.

then she said, "i’ve been so worried about you lately"

"you look shit and you smell a bit"

“George,” you had cleared your throat and sat up a bit straighter in the chair.

It had been approximately two months since he had pushed away from you, and since then you had heard radio silence from the man that had stolen your heart and left your mind mush. But here you were back in the apartment at the behest of Fred who had been, admittedly, “worried fuckin’ sick” about his younger twin.

The apartment was disgusting. Dishes from weeks left in the sink that had most likely caked mold and other major nastiness. Everywhere it smelled like cheap beer and even cheaper weed. It was nauseating to be at the dining room table, looking at the face that used to be George Weasley, but was now puffy, like he’d been getting over crying every single day, his eyes red rimmed and purpling, his usually pale but still vibrant skin tone sallow and raw.

“Georgie, they’re worried about you,” you said softly. He snorted and took another bite of his Ramen.

“George, you look shit, you’re just a-a shell, and your mom has no clue what’s going on, Fred can’t keep up with demands for the record store without you and god, everyone just misses you-“

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he cut. He clenched his jaw before finally looking back up at you, nodding ruefully to himself.

“You saw to it that I always was.”

i feel as though I was deceived

i never found love in the city

i just sat in self-pity and cried in the car

“Pass the damn thing, Fred, Jesus, you bong hog,” George playfully slapped his older brother on the chest. It was their best friend Roger’s nineteenth birthday, and as such, it was 4 in the morning, everyone either knackered as hell or making out in the corner. But Fred always opted to light up with George, especially since he knew it’d be the last time before the Big Move to the City as they referred to it.

“I am, I am, calm your tits, mate!” Fred had puffed into the air, sliding the bong to his brother and watching him inhale. He coughed, George always coughed - as much as he said he was the more mature and worldly one, he still got these little flashes that proved only to Fred that George was his baby brother.

“You know what I’m gonna do once we get to Londontown, Freddie-bomb?”

“What would that be, Georgie?” He smirked, leaning back against the couch. George grinned to himself and finally looked at Fred.

“I am going to find the most beautiful girl and marry her outright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And she’s going to have the most gorgeous mind - her brain, y’know. And and we’ll talk about music and art and shit I don’t care sex and whatever the hell else she likes, and I’ll buy her flowers and perfume and pretend I know what I’m doing because I’m a dumb kid and hell, I’ll fall in love so fast...and I hope she does the same...”

George sat in his beat up old Volvo, took in a shaky breath, and started to sob. His fists delivered downward strikes against his steering wheel at his memories, the feelings of love and joy he knew were still there begging to be freed.

But for now, he’d cry.

oh, i just had a change of heart

The answering machine clicked on, the voicemail ringing through the silence in the bedroom. “Hey, Y/N...sweetheart, we - I - can’t do this anymore,”

i just had a change of heart

“It’s not your fault, baby, but...angel, we can’t do this anymore,”

i just had a change of heart

“I loved you so much and we’re killing each other and I-I couldn’t do anything to stop it except hope that it would pass one day, because we could always make it pass, we could do that,”

i just had a change of heart

“But baby, it’s time to...it’s time to stop. For now, at least until things are better - until we are better,”

i just had a change of heart

“Until we can fall back in love again...I just know we can.”

The machine stopped clicking.

taglist! @whizboingies @harrysweasleys @wandsandwheezes @valwritesx @lumosandnoxwriting @amxrtentias @mothermantids @cyliamarti @shakinganxiety @godricsswords @rosietoesy @jorduhnn @sinfulweasley @wand3ringr0s3 @jaywritesstuff0 @anchoeritic

[heli0s-writes]

It Is Knowing*

HI THANKS FOR EVERYTHING. It’s been a wonderful ride. Here’s the last part of Bag of Tricks. It’s tender and smutty and stupid. All mistakes are my own.

Please stop reading if you are not over 18!

Bag of Tricks Masterlist

He’s terrified.

Suddenly he’s looking at you one way, and then in a flash, the same dumb grin you always give him— the crooked one on the cusp of an ill joke— turns bright white.

It goes brilliant like star fire and during a storm inside a standard-issued cabin hideout, Bucky thinks he must be losing his mind.

And maybe he’s been losing it for a few weeks now, but he’s done a great job dodging the reality of your confession so far. Doesn’t matter what you mumbled—cracked out on exhaustion and sleep-talking—because in the end, you’re his friend and you love him the same way you love everyone else: annoyingly. Nothing’s changed about that.

He hazards another glimpse.

“Help?” You ask from the table, angrily scratching out blocks of an attempted crossword puzzle.

Do it in pencil, he tried to warn earlier, but you only called him chickenshit because you’re—yep—annoying.  

“Foudre,” Bucky says carefully and you perk up at the sound of his voice. “It’s a… six-letter French word for thunder.” He clears his throat, gesturing toward the window splattered with rain.

“Oh-ho-ho,” you snort, “Smart boy, aren’t ya? FOO-DRUH.” An incredible bastardization of the term, and you sing around a chewed-up pen cap between your teeth. “My name’s Smart-Boy-Bucky and I know French, Russian, and Updog.”

“What the hell is Updog?”

Your face steels.

“Nothing much, how ‘bout you?”

And instead of going over there to kick your ass, all he can do is stare wordlessly as you break into a laugh—his entire body electric like a live wire.

-

He keeps telling himself there are only a few days before someone drops in to collect. He just needs a little bit of distance, some time alone to clear his head and get over this—thing.

But his brain feels like it’s melting while he waits, his stomach is probably developing an ulcer, and his heart is so fast and fierce that he can almost see the pulse in his sternum throbbing errantly.

Too many things are wrong. You’re his friend— and Bucky wants to throttle himself a little bit for ever letting you be his friend. You’re an unfiltered, oblivious dumbass and he doesn’t like that at all. You cry over animals and when he gets hurt because you’re an insufferable drama queen, too. He hates that. He does.

The sound of something enormous slamming on the ground makes him dash into the shared bedroom and—oh god, Bucky thinks he’s going to throw up.

First, the mattresses are on the floor.

Second, you’re. wearing. that. stupid. shirt.

The blue one. The one he used to love, hated for a bit, came back around to wearing, and now—yep, he officially hates it again.

“I think you’re too tall for the bunk.” You’re pushing the beds together, unaware of his clenched fists. “So if we sleep diagonally your feet won’t hang off—and can you believe it—” you point to the hem of cerulean brushing against your skin, “I packed three raincoats and no pajamas.”

At the sight of your creeping smile, Bucky loses it.

“Why are you going through my stuff?!” He shouts, gripping the doorframe with enough force to take the molding clear off. “Why are you touching my shit!?” And he probably sounds insane, flying off the handle like this, but he’s got a million grievances against you and this is just the tip of the iceberg.

“Mind your own fucking business!” He’s still unloading, unreasonably frantic at the sight of that terrible color hanging from your shoulders.

Bewildered, you plop down clumsily on your knees, gawking like a deer in the headlights.

Your bare legs, your fingertips on your thighs, the thin sleeves oversized and loose on your forearms, that smear of toothpaste on the collar, the hollow of your throat taut from holding your breath—it makes him want to grab you by the shoulders and shake you dizzy.

It makes him want to touch you. It makes him want you.

He’s sick. He’s dying. He’s so, so fucked.

“What…” Bucky quietly trails off, gasping helplessly as realization sinks in, “…what the hell is wrong with you...”

“Me?!” You shriek back, “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m over here worried about your crusty feet hanging off at night and you just swing in and take a dump on me?”

Bucky groans, miserable and guilty. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “Shit. I’m—I don’t know.”

“Eat my ass, dude!” you sneer, already tucked under the blankets. “I’m going to sleep. Turn off the fucking light you’re going to stand there looking like a dumbass.”

A feeble sigh as Bucky pushes his hands into his face, gripping his hair, pulling his own head back until he’s glaring at the ceiling, listening to the patter on the roof.

“You’re the dumbass,” he whispers.

You’re the dumbass with the emotional regulation problem. The idiot with the temper. The head full of sawdust. But, if it only took three careless words from your blundering mouth to make Bucky fall entirely apart, you must be right after all. He is the dumbass.

He feels split open like the sky—torn up completely, unable to make out anything in his own turbulence.

Fuck.

The sheets shift until he hears them slide off. Then, a pattern of bare feet across hardwood. He must look disastrous in the doorway, bent out of shape in uncharacteristic disarray.

“What is going on with you?” You find his arm, fingers wrapping around his wrists, tugging until they peel off his wretched face. “Why are you so upset? I wear your clothes all the time; I’m always in your stuff.”

He chuckles defeatedly because you really are always in his space. Throwing yourself into in his room. Eating chips in his bed. Squirreling away in his brain. Everywhere. Always.

Bucky presses his lips into a thin line, grimacing as he looks at you. Wordless and vulnerable, he can feel his brow sinking lower, throat narrowing around a swallow as he attempts to fix himself. A stutter falls out, then another, crackling syllables like surfacing thunder but never quite forming a sentence.

The earth groans, shaking the cabin and his precarious soul.

“What is it? Why are you looking at me like—”

And then, under a streak of lightning, recognition splits across your face.

“Don’t,” he pleads to the silence, “Don’t say it.”

The seconds stretch into horrible eons of slow passing time. You tilt your head this way and that, eyes going from his face to his hands, limp at his side with your own fingers still grasping on.

“Jesus, Bucky,” you say gently, “You’re—my best friend.”

Bucky shuts his eyes. “I know. I’m not trying—"

“Bucky,” you interrupt, faster now. “Bucky,” suddenly elated and laughing. “Bucky—shut up.”

And then the entire room bursts into flames. Your lips are searing hot against his— plump and eager, leaving scorching trails everywhere they touch, and Bucky burns up like a solar flare trying to catch his breath.

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh, kissing him again. His cheeks, his jaw, his chin. “A real idiot.”

He’s terrified and dizzy, fumbling with a million possible outcomes and failing painfully each time. Relationships never quite work out for him; he’s dated a few girls and liked them a lot, too, but they’ve never turned out how he wanted them to. And this one—this one, he really can’t fuck up.

He’s got a bad track record, and with you, never knowing is much better than losing.

“Hey, you’re going crazy in there. I can hear it.” A sweet smile as your lips hover over his. The sweetest your face as ever looked. “Stop thinking, Bucky. Kiss me.”

Your lashes are so long and pretty. The dip of your cupid’s bow, a shape he adores. Even the tiny scar on your neck and the way your hair moves— wispy strands framing your face. Sounds of happiness tumbling out, hand firmly inside of his.

“It’s just me.” Joyful. Comfortable. “You know me.”

Your eyes glimmer—a familiar color calling him home.

“Yeah,” he chokes out, “Yeah, I do.”

Steve was the more competent linguist in their old days. Rolling French r’s, dropping ending consonants, silky smooth in pronunciation. Bucky’s tongue had always been more supplant to the Eastern European languages but, he knows enough of French—remembers enough from the war to recognize this:

Coup de foudre.

It’s the thing romantics exalt, the thing that half-strikes him now. The thunderbolt.

Love at first sight, even though it’s not quite first sight at all.

It’s not infatuated or starry-eyed. Not blind. Not feeling.

It is knowing.

And yeah, Bucky watches the way you pull him to the floor, euphoric and aglow, Jesus H. Christ, he knows.

This is it for him: your chaos, your entropy, your impulse. Your lack of personal space and foresight and good fucking sense. But—your kindness, too. Your care. Your heart.

Calm and patient as you settle down into his lap, the warm weight of you seems to be the only thing keeping him on earth.

“Can I touch you?” You ask shyly.

His voice is barely audible, hands unsure of where to rest, heart swollen in his throat.

Bucky flushes, and in the split second of your tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, he tells himself do it, you coward, just fucking do it—and god help him, he does.

He presses his face into your neck, kissing hungrily, anywhere he can, down to your collar and chest and then he’s lifting you up by the thighs and instinctively pulling everything off.

You’re both surprised and excited, blinking at his urgency, and then you start scrambling, too.

His shirt gets flung behind your back. Both pants disappear somewhere else. One hand goes into his hair, other guiding him between your legs where you smear all over his fingers.

Bucky stutters breathlessly like he might go into shock. “You’re all fucking— oh fuckin’ hell.”

You only arch into it, holding his chin between your thumb and forefinger, kissing the bristles of his jaw. You’re soft and warm and he’s utterly overcome. Little noises fall from one mouth to another. An awkward shift and your thighs slip off his, head knocking into him, but neither of you are bothered.

He feels perfect in your hands. A silly grin blooms on your lips before you tip forward and glide yourself over his length, rubbing back and forth, hips moving easily.

His abs clench in time with his fists, wet fingers digging into his palms, bit-back groans barely contained. You keep going, marveling at the way he’s sensitive, kissing his neck, letting him feel good. Bucky begins to protest, embarrassed at the way you’re moving, at how he’s unquestionably powerless.

“S-slow—hold on—“

“Let me do it, Buck.” He’s so hard it hurts. “I wanna learn everything you like.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Bucky holds himself to calm down, other hand steadying your teasing. Nothing’s happened yet and he might already blow his whole fucking load.

“Okay—just—will you give me a second--"

Using the position you’re already in, he lifts you up and brings you back down, a bit at a time until you’re landing on his hand with a gasp. He uses his fist as a stopper, letting you have it slow, feeling you shudder from inside your goddamn bones with every further inch until he takes it away and you shimmy down to the hilt.

Your eyes roll back. And you look perfect.

“Was it good?” He blurts, “With Thor?”

He doesn’t know why it slips out; he never thinks about it, honest. It was a hook up. One time—and he’s not jealous like that because you’re all adults, and it’s not like he’s a virgin or an ascetic, either. You freeze, but he really is an idiot because instead of apologizing or rectifying that outburst, he cuts you off.

“I can give it to you better.”

Because Bucky wants to. He really does.

He presses onward before you can respond, taking hold of what little courage he has, making you whimper, feeling prouder as he goes. Another one and you’re meeting him with a roll of your own hips. Another one, harder now, and you’re shaking on top, tipping him backward into the cushions, grinding recklessly with that exhilaration he adores.

“Bucky, you feel amazing.” Tongue-tied like a schoolboy, he’s keening after your words. “Can I have you all the time?” And Jesus wept who knew you could talk so sweet and filthy.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Bucky promises, his jaw hanging open in awe, “I’m yours. You can have me as much as you want— anytime.”

You bite your lip, skin of it pulled taut and snapping back bruised, light-headed and reeling. Glistening across your collarbones with his spit, body trembling like a high note. He feels it— just a little more— god, you look incredible— he’s gotta hold out for this— and then—fuck. 

It’s wet and divine when you come. Slick and tight, dragging him under as you ride out your orgasm, pulling him in like he belongs in you forever.

And he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows.

Bucky could die happy seeing your face like this every day.

-

It’s rougher in the morning. In the shower, soaking together. Faster.

On the couch, next. With him asking you to put your hand here, move your leg there.

He wants to learn everything you like, too.

You eagerly change positions, giggling when your knee slips and you pitch forward onto his chest. The two of you take a moment to compose yourselves, pinching each other, kissing in-between. He commits to memory the way your lids flutter when he touches you. The way everything moves easy and wonderful, sometimes lazy, sometimes harried, but always fun.

Yelping when you bite too hard. Biting you back even harder. Positions neither of you have surprisingly tried before, but why not start?

Cursing. So much cursing. A lot of it good—fuck me, yes, more, don’t stop—but truthfully, most of it stays about the same.

Barnes, you got a juicy ass.

Will you shut up!

And he never thought a person was supposed to laugh so hard during sex, or if maybe that’s just your own brand of love, but he doesn’t want to find out with anyone else.

It’s the fifth time, and Bucky’s dick is about to fall off—how are you still doing this—just a few thrusts in when the banging on the front door frightens the both of you into your clothes.

Sam swings it open and Bucky is desperately tucking himself into his pants before—please, no.

“It smells like ass in here!” Sam hollers, “The hell have you two been—oh my god.”

“Shut up, Sam!” You respond from the corner of the room, head ripping through the neck hole of a sweater, legs wiggling into a pair shorts. Bucky is still shirtless, hoping he might spontaneously combust.

“Oh my god,” Sam whispers again, “Oh… my god.” He sputters on the verge of either eruption or death.

“You freaky little—” he hisses, before screaming, “Oh hell no! I’m here picking y’all asses up. Landed the damn jet like two miles away, walked my happy ass through the rain— you butt-ass-naked in here—” He stands ram-rod straight, hands on his hips angrily. “I’m tellin’ on y’all.”

“Telling on?! What are you, five!? You’re so annoying, Sam!”

“Annoying? What’s annoying is—I’m wet! And well— you wet too, huh?”

“I hate you.”

Sam snickers, high-fiving himself before crossing his arms, “Really though, believe me when I say this for everybody who’s ever met you two: finally. Now get y’all freaky asses outside so I can go home and drink myself into forgetting I ever saw Barnes’ dick.”

You pat him on the shoulder, “It’s nice, huh?”

Sam dry-heaves, “Uh-uh. That’s enough. Go wash your damn hands.”

A few minutes later, Bucky locks the door to a now silent cabin, damp with sweat and the smell of earth. It’s torrential still, two days bucketing and the ground is so wet mud goes up to his ankles. Luckily, and he wants to laugh at that, you packed two extra raincoats.

Thunderclaps shake the very ground he stands on. Bucky turns to look at you, marveling when electricity bounces off your eyes, lighting up your face. He reaches over.

A squeeze to your hand that says I’m yours.

One more, tighter. I love you.

You slot your fingers between his. I know.

You smile at the next streak in the sky. Me too.

[lynnpaper]

“i brought you a blanket.” please and thanks!

sonder! thank you for the ask! 😊

this is also... one of the softest things i've ever written. i hope you like it! :)

(from these prompts)

She finds him on the roof.

It wasn’t her intention, but it had been pretty hard to ignore the distress that seemed to bleed from him with every step he took. He’d made promises. Promises to protect, and promises to succeed, to the Council and to his men. But Separatist forces do not care about promises, and battle droids do not care about the emotional consequences of conflict. Battle droids do not have emotions.

Anakin sometimes wishes he didn’t have emotions.

He sits on the cold stone of the roof, dangling his feet over the edge, watching the speeders as they cross over and under and perpendicular to each other. It’s quiet and peaceful and as far away from any life forms as he can get.

It’s cold on the roof.

Ahsoka steps out of the hangar and hops over the railing, past the point that Jedi Masters would frown at her disapprovingly for crossing. The stone ground is smooth here, where barely anyone treads; the closer she gets to the edge, the bigger the city seems.

Anakin keeps his back to her, but he sits so still his shoulders must be rigid. The rise and fall of his shoulders is practically nonexistent. Ahsoka wonders if he’s even breathing.

She can tell he’s upset. It hurts to see him upset.

Anakin hears her even before she jumps the railing. He doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is—it cannot be anybody else.

“You shouldn’t be up here,” Anakin says. The cool night air carries his voice in all different directions, and the words barely reach her.

Ahsoka doesn’t respond. Her footsteps grow closer, the soft tap-tap-tap of her combat boots reverberating off the stone ground.

“It’s very late, Ahsoka,” Anakin says. As if the time of night means anything to her.

Nothing. Not even a huff to prove her exasperation.

“You should be asleep,” Anakin says. His eyes follow a speeder as it races across the front of a skyscraper, before merging with the main line of traffic and disappearing into the kaleidoscopic streak of reds and yellows and greens.

The footsteps stop. So should you, he expects her to reply.

“I brought you a blanket.”

Anakin turns around, more on instinct than by choice. He’s inclined to respond with “what?” or “why?” but the moment he sees Ahsoka standing there with a brown padawan robe over her shoulders, the hem brushing the ground beside her feet, all words die in his throat.

The towering spires of the temple’s roof make her look so small. She stands too far away for him to make out her expression in the darkness, but close enough for him to see the blanket folded and tucked under her arm as promised. Her padawan beads glint where they rest between her montrals, catching the light when she tilts her head.

It’s windy on the roof. The breeze blows his hair into his eyes, but he doesn’t push it aside. His skin prickles, the thin sleeves of his tunic doing nothing between him and the wind. For someone who grew up on Tatooine, Anakin doesn’t seem to mind the chill.

Ahsoka walks toward him silently. He’d been too reserved since they had returned in the afternoon, his eyes downcast and hands fidgeting as he debriefed the 501st, losing focus and burning himself on the soldering iron as he repaired fighters in the hangar, eating next to nothing at dinner before quietly excusing himself from the table.

Anakin looks away. He keeps his eyes trained on the night sky before him, his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

He would rather be alone.

Ahsoka knows this. Ahsoka doesn't care.

She’s right behind him now, close enough for him to hear her soft breaths and the gentle rustle of her robe. He hears her unfold the blanket, feels the warm weight of it as she drapes it over his shoulders, and almost sighs as the chill dissipates, resisting the urge to pull it tighter around himself.

Ahsoka lowers herself to the ground beside him, her legs dangling off the edge just like his. It should make him anxious, his padawan sitting right on the edge of the roof, the ground a long, long way away. The slanting outer walls of the temple drop down hundreds of meters, but she can catch herself if she falls. There are worse ways to go—some grounds rise to meet you if they think you’ll never hit them.

Something light drops on his lap. Anakin looks down and finds a ration bar. Then he looks to his left, to find Ahsoka biting into one of her own. She stares right back, chews for a second, and swallows. “You didn’t eat,” she says.

Anakin looks down at the little packet on his lap again. It’s one of the better-tasting ration bars—he remembers telling her which ones he preferred.

The first bite reminds him exactly how hungry he is. The second reminds him that the last meal he ate was this morning. The third reminds him of just how much his padawan cares, for all the effort she’s gone through to be here beside him now.

Anakin looks back at her again—there’s nowhere else to look. Now she’s flipping the hilts of her lightsabers, throwing them up and spinning them and catching them in one hand.

“Don’t drop those,” Anakin says softly. He crumples the wrapper of his ration bar, molds it into a little ball using the Force.

Your lightsaber is your life. When did they become so frivolous with such valuable things? Playing with life and death, gambling with fate. Fighting battles as if they are games, deflecting blaster shots as if they are younglings parrying harmless charges from remote droids.

Ahsoka keeps flipping her lightsabers.

Anakin lifts a hand, stopping them in midair, and guides them back down to hook onto her belt.

She looks up at him. She smiles.

He looks down at her. He smiles.

Ahsoka shivers. Anakin realises the blanket is big enough for two.

Ahsoka shifts closer, until she’s close enough to rest her head on his arm. Anakin pulls her closer, holding out the blanket for her to tuck herself under, and wraps his arm around her shoulders.

They sit together, until dawn rolls around and the sun peeks out from behind the morning’s clouds, and the roof doesn’t feel so cold anymore.

[draconic-ichor]

Can we see more heisenberg-winters family shenanigans?? Three super-powered kids sounds like a chaotic handful

Thankfully Netta doesn’t start showing powers till around puberty…but two superpower kids is still a handful.

It doesn’t help that the firstborns get their respect Father’s stubborn streak as well

Here a little dabble of a Heisenberg/Winters play date that ends badly…

The Heisenberg parents sat at the table across from the Winters parents. They were sharing mild chat over coffee, domestic things and stories since their last meeting.

Netta played with blocks on the wooden floor near them as the older children played in Rose’s room.

Everything was going quite normal: children being as quiet as a pack of children normal were, the wives sharing stories of the children, while Karl bruised himself annoying Ethan. The average play date.

That is, until the sound of raised voices and something getting knocked heavily over resonated from the room over. The parents quieted either idle chatter to listen.

When the voices raised further Ethan called a warning, “Kids!”

It fell on deaf ears.

The voices turned to yelling, the door forced to fully open hard by an invisible force. The parents scrambled to standing as the room erupted with a choir of destruction.

Ethan and Heisenberg burst into the pastel room. It was a mess: wardrobe knocked forward with his drawers falling open to the floor, objects scattered messily around everywhere, and in the middle of it the two children facing off.

Both Rose and Kolt were still very young, leftover baby fat padding their stomachs even though their limbs started to stretch with a growth spurt. Physically they were evenly matched, but their powers were a different matter. The parents didn’t want to find out how far either went.

One one side was Rosemary, standing like stone as her blonde hair wiped around her, eyes taking on a low glow. A black spiral of organic darkness snaked across the paisley decorated wall to one side of the room. It pulsed angrily like veins pumping blood. They splattered across the wall, all originating from the screaming little blonde.

While on the other side Kolt met her storm with his own, sharp teeth bared. Toys and loose objects swirled around him, while the window started to rattle dangerously in its sill.

The parents rushed in, scooping up their respected children to separate them. As they pulled them from the room, having to restrain the small things they still yelled at each other.

“He’s stupid and mean!” Rose screamed shrilly, Ethan’s arms wrapped around her.

“Stupid?” Kolt spat, only held back by Heisenberg strong arm around his middle, “Crazy Bitch!”

Heisenberg felt sweat gather on his lower back, hearing his young son mimic a phrase he’d obviously heard from himself. He stiffened and growled a warning, “Ok, that’s enough!”

Kolt instantly stopped fighting, resorting to glaring daggers at the other child. He knew not to test his father when he took that tone.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you both, but it’s done.” Ethan went on.

Heisenberg nodded in agreement.

Now that the worse was behind them and the situation started to deescalate, Rose burst into tears. She turned, burring her face into the crook of her father’s neck.

Heisenberg straightened, keeping Kolt tucked under his arm by the middle. The boy hung like an angry cat but didn’t give any further resistance.

“Well, I think the playdate is over.” Karl huffed, “Need to take this one home and have a long talk.”

Ethan’s eyes looked tired, one ear full of his daughter’s sobbing. He gave a nod, no ill harbored for them. It came with the territory: the children’s developing powers coupled with the volatile emotions of youth sometimes made a dangerous cocktail. They normal got along fine. Something today set them off terribly, however.

Juniper apologized profusely, holding the tiny Netta to her chest. Mia mixed together a bleach solution expertly, not the first time she had to scrub mold from the walls.

The families parted ways, both in for long nights of lectures.

[world-of-aus]

Family Matters - (Part 3)

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Word Count:3,334

Warnings: manhandling, a surprise twist!

Author’s Note: Chapter 3! Updates for this series will be every Wednesday and Fridays! Thank you all for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging, all of that means so much to me! - xoxo

Chapter 2 / SERIES MASTERLIST

You go to flee but his hands are quicker, he grabs a hold of your biceps squeezing tightly keeping you from moving, a pained groan slips past your lips. The bearded golden blonde from before is surging forward, taking big steps as he closes the distance between the two of you. You cower in fear, your body pressing into the wall of muscle behind you, he stares down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips, “well, well, well, look what the cat drug in,” he grins, “wait till boss gets a load of you.”

His eyes move away from your fearful face to the cold set of eyes behind yours, “bring her in, don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

“W-wait no please,” you cried pushing against the solid block of muscle.

The fingers tightened on your skin causing a whimper to fall from your lips, “start moving, or I’ll move you myself,” the voice hissed in your ear, “and trust me, you don’t want me to have to move you.”

Another whimper falls from your lips as your painfully pushed forward. You follow the man in front of you on shaky legs as the broad man from behind pushes you through the threshold down to the forbidden corridor.

He thrusts you through the open French doors of your fathers office.

“She’s here boss,” the golden blonde speaks up.

You watch with baited breath as your fathers chair turns, your breath catches in your throat.

Thick, lustrous, tousled, dark brown hair framed his chiseled face, strong and defined, his features molded from granite. His eyes a deep mesmerizing ocean blue accompanied with streaks of the lightest grey throughout. Dark brows were sloped in question, lips drawn in a hard line across his face, you cowered under his stare. Strong hands pointed to the seat in front of him, “sit” he commanded.

You swallowed unmoving, his features molded immediately to one of anger, “you’d be wise to listen,” he murmured darkly. Finger nails pressed harder into your skin, indented crescents sure to be left behind, “move it,” the man behind you grunted, shoving you forward. You gasped catching yourself on the chair, the man before you had requested of you to sit in. On shaky legs you rounded the chair, adjusting yourself onto it, your fingers stark white from the grip you had on the bottom of it.

The man before you ran a hand over his face, thumb brushing over his chin as he drank you in. He cleared his throat, his hand pointing to the man that still loomed behind you, “you can go,”

His eyes were still on your shaking form, “It’s truly unfortunate to have to have met under these circumstances,” he began leaning forward on his arms, “so sorry for your loss, such a tragic thing to have occurred,” he cooed.

You sat there eyes blown wide, body shivering in fear, “w-who are you?”  

A smirk pulled at the corner of the man’s lips, “m’ sorry where are my manners,” he grinned, “the names James Buchanan Barnes, though I’m sure daddy told you about me didn’t he?”

A knot formed in your throat, face paling, a low chuckled brewed from within him, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and I might as well be looking at one from what your father informed me of,” he paused raising a brow at you, “you are y/f/n y/l/n aren’t you?”

You nodded your head numbly, “well I'll be damned, looks like your father was a liar, thief, and traitor all in one, no wonder Pierce had him on such a tight leash,”  

The room began to spin your ears ringing; James caught on, his fingers snapping off to your side, strong hands gripped at your shoulders keeping you upright in the chair. Your head lolled side to side, as you tried to clear the disorientation away. You shook your head, “please, I- I don’t” you sucked in a breath of air, “I d-didn't please”  

“Get her to the couch, now,” he demanded to the man behind you.

Hands were finding there way from your shoulders to under your arms as they lifted you up. You held onto the hands for dear life as you stumbled your way to the lush leather couch, your head falling into the cooled material beneath you.  A shaky sigh left your lips, the hidden secrets of your fathers luxurious life style was all coming to surface, and you were caught in the crossfire of it all seemed,  and you had been unaware of it all. Taking in deep shaky breaths you attempted to calm your nerves, you knew they would do you know good in this unforeseen situation.

You felt the couch dip next to you, a glass of water held out to you, you looked from the glass to the man offering it to you, “it’s water,” he murmured, an impatient sigh left his lips when you made no move to grab it from his outstretched hand, “I take it you're not as easily swayed as your impressionable father was?”

You shook your head, “please, I had no idea what my father did in this home, I want nothing to do with any of it, you can have it all, I'll sign it over to you, just please,” you pleaded.

James barked out a laugh shaking his head, “you really expect me to believe that you had no part in your father’s plan, that man was a rat, no offense,” he muttered, “your father obviously couldn’t be trusted,” he slid closer than, your frame shrinking into the cushions as his stormy eyes bore into you, “so tell me, what makes you so different?”

You didn’t know if there was any convincing this man, obviously your father had betrayed him in unimaginable ways, but you knew you needed to try if you wanted to get out of this.

“I swear I didn’t know, my father never allowed me down these corridors when he was down here, it was forbidden to me, my father would never let me hear the end of it if I was caught down here, please,” you pleaded once more, “I swear I didn’t know what my father was doing behind these closed doors.”

James went to open his mouth but was cut off, when three raps sounded at the open office doors, his eyes moved from your’s to the doorway, “he’s here,” grunted the man from earlier. A cheshire grin overtook his face, he rubbed his hands together as he looked at you once more, “shall we get started?”

Your dragged from your father’s office, to your kitchen table where many nights you had spent sitting alone with your mother over one of her specialty meals.

“ouch, you’re hurting me!” you whined to the man that had man handled you from before, as he forcefully pushed you into the chair directly across from the two other men in the room. He hovered over you a snarl leaving his lips, you cowered in fear.  

“Enough!” a voice barked out, your head shot up in fear.

James who had been previously sitting next to Wilson the man from earlier, was now looming at the table fists clenched on the wooden surface, “have some damn respect,” he hissed at the man, “or do you need to have a talk with Steve again?” He growled.

The wicked mans face fell, a look of fear  overtaking his features, “ n-no boss won’t be necessary,”

“Good,” he grunted “get out and send Steve in,”

The burly man practically bolted from his spot next to you, the golden blonde entering the room picking a spot right at the doorway, a menacing glare aimed at you.

Your head is snapping back at the sound of someone clearing their throat, Sam is looking over at you through the rim of his glasses, “shall we begin?” he questions.

“right,” he starts, “as I've already informed Ms. Y/l/n you are the co-owner of this house, and with the tragic passing of her parents, the father’s half has gone off to her in a will,” he informed Barnes, “Ms. Y/l/n has informed me that she would like to just sign over all rights to you, apparently she no longer resides in the area and does not wish to have any ties to this area.”

James turns to face Sam, his hand on his chin his brows furrowed deeply, “did you tell her about her father and what he owes me?”

Sam sighed running a hand over his head, his fingers working off his glasses as he stared back at the man annoyed, “no Buck it didn’t cross my mind, she was already shaken up coming into my office you really want me throwing that on her, she probably would have bolted the second I laid out that contract her father signed?”

You cleared your throat, “excuse me gentleman but I’m sitting right here,” you gritted out, “if it regards my father, it obviously regards me, so either of you mind telling me what it is my father signed”

Bucky turned to look at you his head cocked to the side as he eyed you, “I’m sorry,” he started, “for a second there it sounded like you were telling us what to do,” he shifted his body to fully face you now, “you don’t get to ask the questions y/n”

You could feel your fear be replaced by anger, you had had enough of people belittling you because of who your father was, and apparently how he lived his life, you’d be damned if you stayed in his shadow, enough was enough, you would not be quieted.

“Listen here Barnes,” you snarled, “I’m not sure what relation my father had with you but I can assure you I was unaware of it, I lived my life locked away in my room, aside from the times he  would send me and my mother out of the house,” he opened his mouth but you cut him off, “and another thing, I've had just about enough of you men telling me what you think you know about me, when in reality you don’t know the half of it,” you gritted out, “my father may have lived his life a certain way but I can assure you I had no part in it, and I definitely had no say when my father kicked me from this very home at the ripe age of 18!” you hissed, “so yes you can believe what you want, but I will not allow you to further disrespect me, I have in a single night lost both my parents who I have not spoken with since I was 18 that was seven fucking years ago, and I get here only to find that my dad was involved with the mafia, he owes some asshole money which  apparently he planned to collect, and oh get this you, you” you gritted pointing your fingers at him “you are the co-owner of this house again something I was unaware of.”

You were heaving with rage by the time you got all the words that had brewed inside of you, James seemed unbothered by your little explosive episode.

“you done doll?” he questioned bored.

“don’t call me d-”

His fist met the table startling you into silence, “i think you’ve said enough,” he hissed, “it’s my turn to speak, so you’re going to sit there and you’re going to listen got it?” he questioned brow raised.

“do you understand?” he questioned again when you didn’t give him a response the first time.

You nodded your head, “you see y/n you brought up a great point in your petty little rant, and that was that your father owed money to some asshole,” he was grinning devishly then, “and do you know who that asshole he owed money to was?” he questioned through gritted teeth, you didn’t answer but inside you were filled with dread because you knew the words that would come out of his mouth would not be good, “awe why so quiet now sweetheart, you had a lot to say just now, what happened,   cat got your tongue?” he scoffed, “that asshole y/n was me, and your father still to this day had yet to pay me my money that he stole because if it had been borrowed I would have seen it,” he stood from his chair, “see about seven years ago, I paid your little daddy a visit, and I told him he either pay me my money or that contract he signed after signing the one to this house, would be valid, and I would take the one thing he promised to hand over if he couldn’t comply, did daddy dearest ever tell you what it was he wagered or are we going to keep playing this victim card you y/l/n’s seem to be real good at”

You were scared again, you shook your head not trusting your voice, “see daddy owed not only money to me, but that old man also owed, Pierce and Rumlow,” your skin was vibrating in fear, the names of all the men detective Stark had mentioned were coming up. The thing is those two fools didn’t think of a way to collect seeing as he worked for them, so regardless they would get their money one way or another, thing is your father decided to play with fire when he asked for my help, and well I needed to make sure I was going to get my money back so I had my good friend Wilson here,” he said patting Sam on the back, “i had him work up a contract with your father, and in that contract it was stated that If he could not get me money after sometime, that he would have to give up whatever he had promised on that contract, and man would you believe what that old man put,”

Your hands were shaking in your lap, he leaned forward then, eyes menacing, “that old bastard promised me,” he gestured towards himself, “he promised me that if when the time came to collect and he didn’t have the money, that you,” his finger turned to you, “ you would be handed to me.”

Your face paled, you father wouldn’t do such a thing, he was a mean man, but there was just no way he could be this vile.

“t-that c-can't be,” you replied shakily, “my father would never”

“oh no?” he questioned, “then I guess you didn’t know daddy to well,” he muttered sliding a file towards you.

Your shaky hands reached for the file, you opened it looking over the contents, a shaky sob left your lips. Your father had actually done it, he had actually signed you off to this man if he wasn’t able to pay him his money. You shoved the file away from you looking up at the two men with watery eyes, “please, you don’t have to do this, I'll,” you chocked back a sob, “I'll find a way to fix his mess, just please,”

“now wait just a damn minute,” Bucky cut you off, “you father may have promised you to me, but I'm not sleazy like your old man,”

You wanted to sigh in relief but you knew there was something he was holding back from you something he wasn’t telling you, and from how your day had been going you were sure it wouldn’t be any good either.

“now I'm going to need you to just sit a second longer, and my good friend Sam is going to explain something to you, and trust me when I say it is in your best interest to take into account everything he is about to explain to you,”

Looking to Sam you waited, the dread coursing through you, “Now Ms. Y/l/n when Mr. Barnes initially found out what you father had signed over if he was to have to come collect, I can assure you he was angered at the audacity your father had to sign your name on that line,” he eyed you, “Mr. Barnes still has a means to collect, but he’s chosen to go about it a different way, it’s in regards to this house,” he added.

“he can have it; he can take whatever he wants pl-” Bucky sent you a look efficiently cutting you off.

“as I was saying, Mr. Barnes met with me months prior to all this with the beliefs that you were no longer in the picture and his original intention was to just collect the house when your father had given him word that you had passed tragically one day,” he paused, “upon hearing of your return recently and that it was actually you in the flesh, Mr. Barnes decided he wanted to change the means of your fathers contract,” he sighed rubbing at his temples slightly, “Mr. Barnes has asked me to inform you that he will settle your father’s debt IF and only IF you agree to take owner ship of the home with him-”

“I can do that,” you cut him off.

Sam sighed, “please let me finish,” he muttered, “you would be taking your father’s ownership, but you must also come home, and you must stay here in this home,”

You were taken aback, “excuse me?” you questioned, you were getting upset again, “you can’t possibly do that, you can’t make me agree to any of this this is-”

“Now Ms. Y/l/n it would be in your best interest to agree to this, there is no other way,”

You scoffed looking over at Bucky, “how is there no other way, you can’t just force me to come home, and make me stay here,”

“Steve, Sam, would you give me and y/n a couple of seconds” Sam stood wordlessly following Steve out of the kitchen. Bucky rounded the table, “Look y/n, you can either do it this way, or I will collect the way I originally intended and I can promise you doll, you don’t want me to do that, I'm offering you a home, safety from the goons your father worked for, and a worry free life, this would all be yours at no cost to you, so long as you do as I say, and all you’d have to do is sign,”

“y-you can’t ask that of me, I don’t have to agree to any of this, I'll go to Detective Stark”

Bucky threw his head back in a howl of laughter, “sweetheart, I'm not asking anymore,” he replied the smile vanishing from his features, “I've been done asking, now” he spoke again his voice much lower, leaning in closer “I'm going to have my men come back in and we’re going to get this contract signed, I'm honestly doing you a favor here, you have nobody left, mommy, daddy, all your family is gone y/n, there’s no one for you to go back to, no one for you to run too, so it would be in your best interest to be the good little girl we all know you to be and sign that name of yours right next to mine on that contract,”

You swallowed, you were terrified of the repercussions that might come if you didn’t agree, and he was right, you had nobody left, so this couldn’t possibly be any worse. A shaky sigh left your lips, “fine, I'll sign,” you murmured lowly.

Bucky was grinning wolfishly, “that’s my girl,”  

You moved away from him glaring, “I'm not your girl” you hissed.

“the contract say’s otherwise,”

You cocked your head at his words, but weren’t able to question him as he beckoned for his men.

Sam, Steve trailed in, Detective Stark following in behind them, Bucky grinned at your confused expression, “w-what is he doing here?” you whispered.

“oh Detective Stark?” he questioned a smirk pulling at his lips, “he’s here as a witness,”

Chapter 4

Family Matter’s Tag-list: @broco8 @spideyxxboi @scuzmunkie​ @person-born-winchester @jennisahoe @rougeone0911 @ilovesupersoldiers @loveofmychips

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Masterlist link here

AO3 link here 

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears the echo of birdsong in her laughter, her songs to the gods in the wind.

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

Pro tip: Italics denote scenes in Akaashi’s dreams / past.  

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

Time passes. 

Akaashi graduates from university with top honours and gets recruited immediately by a publishing company. He’s mildly disappointed when he’s dispatched to the manga department instead of the literature department as he originally hoped, but it’s not all that bad, he gets to work with Udai-sensei on his new volleyball manga. 

He’s content, all things considered. 

His mother is constantly on his case to find a girlfriend - because she insists she’s growing old and wants grandchildren soon. To placate her, he goes on arranged dates with daughters of his father’s business associates, with nieces of his mother’s friends. While they’re pleasant enough, they all seem to come from the same mold - well bred middle class university graduates more interested in complaining about their bosses and talking about the branded bags they’re going to get next. 

Once he tried asking one of them about the type of flowers she likes best. His date blinked in confusion at first, but immediately brightened up and she said ‘roses, I guess? They look so good on instagram!’ 

He did not ask for a second date. 

Honestly, he’s not exactly looking to date anyone at the moment. He’s young, barely twenty three. Work is time consuming enough, with his days filled with constantly looming deadlines and chasing temperamental mangakas like Udai-sensei. His mother will just have to accept that grandchildren are very much not in the near future. 

But he does feel somewhat guilty -  ‘even Yuji-kun is seeing this lovely girl, auntie tells me,’ his mother nagged last Sunday, so he picks up a habit of buying flowers to soothe her every time he heads to his parent’s home for a meal. 

‘Pink carnations for your mother again?’ the florist asks brightly. 

Akaashi nods, insisting on paying for the baby’s breath she adds to the bouquet. The florist lets him when he assures her he’s no longer a starving university student, and pulls her gloves off to rifle in her drawer for change. 

‘Here you go!’, she chirps, holding out a tray with his change. His gaze is drawn to the pink burn scars streaked across her hands, and flushes when she meets his curious eyes with a knowing look. 

‘Sorry, I - uh didn’t mean to stare’, he begins to splutter, but she waves it off. 

‘It’s fine. I got them a long time ago’, she replies, a wistful smile twisting her lips, tugging her sleeves down to her wrist. 

He bows and takes his leave. He doesn’t spare a second thought on the encounter when he reaches his parent’s house, his mother exclaiming over the little bouquet.

The table shakes when his colleague slumps into his seat, sighing deeply. 

‘Did your boss get on your case for typos again?’ Akaashi asks, his spoon pausing on the way to his mouth. 

‘Worse’, his colleague groans. ‘He’s sending me to Hokkaido for next month’s feature on crimes that shocked the nation, and I have to travel all the way up the mountains to some dinky little town without a train station.

‘Hm’. Akaashi raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. ‘What’s the feature about?’ 

‘See for yourself’. His colleague dramatically slides his folder of articles across the table, bumping it into Akaashi’s plate. 

He thumbs through the folder. Nakamura Yakeru, the mayor of a small mountain town in Hokkaido, found guilty on a multitude of charges - breaking and entering, causing arson by fire, assault and attempted murder of a schoolgirl, her identity redacted. It’s shocking in and of itself - but there’s something awfully familiar about the man’s face. 

He smooths out the creases in the paper, bringing the newspaper clipping closer to his face, and oh - 

He knows that face. 

His mind echoes with the memories of flinching at the sight of Nakamura’s teeth, yellowed from nicotine and bared in a smirk, the acrid stench of cigarettes lingering on his shirt, cursing whenever that inconsiderate bastard left sparks smouldering in dry grass. But it doesn’t make sense - there’s no reason for him to have ever met the man. He’s never been farther north than Sapporo, a born and bred Tokyo city boy after all. And he doesn’t recall seeing the man’s face on the news either when the crime was committed. 

So why would his dreams feature this man? 

‘Akaashi?’ he hears his colleague call his name, but his voice can barely be heard over the pounding of his heart in his ears. ‘You’ve gone really white, is everything ok?’ 

‘I’m fine’, he replies, hastily shoving the article back in the folder. ‘Everything’s fine.’ 

His colleague doesn’t look like he believes him. Frankly, Akaashi doesn’t believe himself either. 

Try as he might, he can’t get the eerie coincidence out of his mind. And after a few restless nights, he finds himself back in his childhood bedroom, holding the old omamori in his hands. It’s just an inanimate scrap of cotton fabric, but he’s tempted to borrow his mother’s sewing kit to pick its stitches apart, to discover the secrets woven into its threads. 

It feels silly being so superstitious, but he can’t help feeling that he’s on the verge of discovering what his strange dreams have been trying to show him - so he tucks the omamori under his pillow, his thumbnail catching on a stray thread, before he surrenders himself to his dreams. 

‘Akaashi Keiji’, a cool voice pronounces his name with faint amusement. ‘Back to change the terms of our bargain? ’

His eyes fly open. 

This time he’s on familiar ground, kneeling on the twenty sixth step of the shrine he visits with his parents for  Hatsumode, the other twenty five steps below him shrouded in mist. But the woman standing before him is not familiar to him - in fact, she’s clearly not even human, not with her red eyes and pale lips, not with the wisteria trailing from her hair and disappearing into her skin. 

That should scare him, but it doesn’t because he can’t discern any malice in her eyes, and the scent of the wisteria is soothingly sweet. 

So his curiosity wins out over his sense of caution, and he asks politely - ‘I’m sorry, who are you exactly? And, um. What bargain are you referring to? ’

Her eyes gleam. ‘I’m offended. Don’t you recognise the guardian of the shrine you’ve been praying at your whole life? And as for the bargain you’ve made with me - I thought you already figured it all out by yourself, little boy.’ Laughing airily, she crouches over him, a wooden plaque dangling from her finger. ‘Remember this?’

He reads the words etched on the plaque.  ‘I wish I could have more time. I wish for yesterday to come again.’ Then he glances up at the shrine deity sharply. ‘I remember that from my dreams. Does this mean they’re real?’  

‘What do you think?’ Her lips stretch into a grin. 

‘Logic would suggest that they aren’t. It shouldn’t be possible to swap bodies, let alone with someone I’ve never met in my life. And yet…’ 

‘And yet?’ she prompts, tilting his head towards her with the nail of her finger.

‘It’s too much of a coincidence to ignore the fact that I know Nakamura Yakeru from my dreams, so that suggests at least some semblance of it is real.’ He looks at her pleadingly. ‘Are you here to help me?’ 

She laughs again, the sound ethereal like the flutter of butterfly wings. The sleeves of her purple kimono slide down her wrists, the scent of wisteria enveloping him growing sickly sweet. ‘Help you? Well, since you asked so nicely, little boy, I guess there’s no harm telling you your dreams are real. I granted your wish on a whim, and look how amusing you’ve been!’

Oh gods his dreams are real. They’re real. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods, they’re real.  

Akaashi feels his stomach churn. He inhales a shaky breath. 

That means she’s real, doesn't it?

He thinks about the salaciously titled newspaper articles, the violence implied in its words. He thinks about the innocence in her impulses, the whimsicalness of her thoughts. He feels ill at the thought of someone deliberately trying to extinguish her. 

‘What happens in the end ?’ he asks, blood surging to his head, slamming his palms flat on the ground for support. ‘What happens to her?’

Sunlight pierces through the fog, and the wisteria spirit starts to fade before his very eyes. 

‘Why don’t you see for yourself?’, her voice echoes.  ‘You’ll find all the answers you’re looking for at the shrine in the forest. You know the way there - you’ve been there a thousand times, both in real life and in your dreams.’

He gasps as he jolts awake, hands clenching his sheets. 

He’s in his bed in his apartment. Everything is exactly as it was before he went to sleep. 

Well - everything except the scent of wisteria lingering in the air.

Udai-sensei’s eyes bug out from its sockets when Akaashi tells him he’s off to Hokkaido for an impromptu holiday. 

‘You aren’t burnt out, are you? Is it me? Is it the deadlines? Don’t quit on me - there’s no way another editor can provide the same input on my new volleyball manga like you!’ he begs, sounding dangerously close to tears. 

Akaashi sighs, muttering under his breath about ‘ highly strung mangakas’  but manages to reassure Udai that no, he’s not quitting, he’s just taking a four day break. He thought it’d be nice to visit the flower fields during summer in Hokkaido, and he has an old friend in those parts he might pay a visit to.  

So he puts himself on a short flight to Sapporo, and a painfully long bus ride further north into the mountains, arriving at the rural village he’s traversed countless times in his dreams. He drags his luggage past the high school, the  crunch  of wheels on gravel slowly knocking loose memories of bones aching, flesh bruising, from tumbles down the stairs, from falls off drain pipes, from predestined losses against cement floors. 

He exhales through his nose when he walks past the florist’s shop. It’s a hollow shell of bare concrete and cardboard shutters, a gap where the signboard should be on the shopfront, a stark contrast to the bustling bakery and  combini  it’s sandwiched between. Thank the gods, he mutters, the blaze of hurt and desperation in Hana-chan’s eyes haunting his mind. 

The only inn in the town is serviceable enough, though he’s looked at in askance by the innkeeper when he admits he’s an editor for a publishing company. ‘Another gossip hound ’, the old lady mutters resentfully, and Akaashi has to do damage control lest she assign him the dampest room in the establishment and assure her that he’s no journalist, just a flower enthusiast interested in the lavender blooming in the fields. He charms her enough with his politeness that by the time he checks into his room, she offers him free use of a bicycle to explore the town, and he takes her up on her offer once he drops off his bags in his room. 

The summer sun is starting its descent from the sky as he cycles past familiar dirt paths lined with trees, the anticipation in his blood thrumming as he passes sprawling farms he’s sure he’s eaten stolen eggs from, passes the gas station  she  bragged about stealing petrol from. The rush of blood to his head hits a roaring crescendo when he reaches the edge of the woods. 

Leaning the bicycle against a fallen tree, he sets off to the very heart of the forest, his feet seeming to recognise a path his eyes cannot see. The deeper into the forest he ventures into, the thicker the branches overhead seem to grow, leaves interwoven into a net that blocks the sun. 

The wind ripples over his skin. The trees seem to whisper out to him. 

Okaeri, he hears. Welcome home, the Kodama spirits murmur over the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Sunlight from the setting sun spills into a clearing just ahead, and though he’s almost blinded by the sudden flash of light, he can make out the outline of a shrine, situated dead center of the clearing and breaks into a run.  There it is , he thinks, dropping to his knees, hands trembling as he brushes fallen branches and leaves off the shrine, deaf to the growing whispers from the trees surrounding him. 

‘Please grant me your secrets’, he breathes, eyes closed in prayer. 

He can feel a pulse in the ground, a sudden shift in the air. Wisteria blooms from the soft earth in his heart. 

Oh. 

Oh gods. 

He remembers. 

Taglist: 

@forgetou @animeflower26​ @kageyamakock @underrated-fruit-tarts-official @bongofrito​

[mercurial-muses]

Darkness and Light

Valdyss can’t think of a time in the past when she didn’t feel buoyant while walking the halls of Stoneheart Keep, but tonight she feels as though she is dragging an anchor. Perhaps it’s because she has always felt like an equal in this place before- bringing affection, support, ideas, and a willingness to put in the work that will see Frostfall become stronger than it already is. Tonight Val only brings need, though, and it slows her stride as she makes her way from Faye’s workshop to her personal quarters.

That she hadn’t found the huntress working in these early hours is unexpected and, on this particular night, a relief for more than one reason. Val worries about what seem to be frequent bouts of insomnia that Faye suffers, so the idea that she’s sleeping brings a measure of peace to an otherwise chaotic swirl of emotions the mage is experiencing. Solace is also found in the idea of setting all of that aside for now by hiding away under the comforting weight of soft furs, curled up against the gentle strength of the woman she seeks.

Val enters the bedroom and closes the door quickly, hoping the light briefly spilling in from the adjoining room doesn’t wake Faye. She draws in a hiss of breath between clenched teeth when removing her boots scrapes the soft leather against the sore tops of her feet. There’s a similar sting when removing her socks, jacket, and trousers. The idea of pulling her undershirt over the line of fire along her spine has her tensing in anticipation of more discomfort, so she strips no further and climbs into bed still wearing a silken tank and panties. Moving carefully, Valdyss follows the pull of the warmth of the woman sprawled beneath the covers.

Faye is indeed buried underneath the furs she prefers over sheets, sprawled out in the bed with her hair spread out just as wildly. The light is what began to stir her, but it was the hisses of pain that drew her out of her slumber. There were pros and cons to light sleeping.

With a small shift and a low murmur, a soft warm light blooms from the carved bedside table just as Valdyss is reaching the covers. Faye is similarly dressed down to best enjoy the feel of the furs, and squints across at Valdyss as the mage gets in.

There are a few questions that bubble up into her mind. Yet, for the time being, Faye opens an arm towards Valdyss, inviting her in just as much as she sought her out.

Valdyss is quick to cover herself with the furs before she carefully shifts closer to the huntress. Laying on her side, facing her, Val slides her arm around Faye's waist and curls into the protective curve of her body. She finally seems to settle once she’s rested her head on the larger woman's shoulder and tucked her head beneath Faye’s chin.

"Go back to sleep," comes a whispered command.

Faye likewise wraps an arm around Valdyss and settles her more snugly against her body. The baroness relaxes, pressing a kiss to the top of the mage's head. But she doesn't obey.

"Tell me what's wrong first," comes her murmured reply instead. "I heard you hissing."

"I'm a little sore," Val answers softly. She tightens her grasp for a brief squeeze. "Feeling better already." She closes her eyes and hopes that's enough.

Faye's eyes narrow and she studies Valdyss for a few moments. But eventually the baroness just stretches out again to murmur another word to put the light rune out.

"Show me where tomorrow, alright?" Faye compromises instead, tucking them both back under the furs as she settles against the mage.

"I'm worried that you'll be upset." The confession comes easier in the dark. "I have some minor burns." She swallows thickly against the unwanted tears that threaten to spill, frustrated that they steal the strength from her voice. "It was an accident and I'll be okay."

Faye pauses at that. Despite being unable to see the other woman in the dark, her eyes open and dart down to where she knows Valdyss is.

"....do you think I'll be upset at you?" she asks softly.

Val shakes her head. "I was hurt by another mage. And although she was irresponsible, the harm that came to me was unintentional." She pauses and takes a shaky breath. "Light, Faye, it could have been so much worse."

"Ah. Upset with her." Faye corrects softly. She lies there for a time, drumming her fingers along the other woman's hip. Not teasingly, but rather in thought.

There is a fire that lights within her at that confession. A slow bubbling roil that wants to churn into something else. Something deadlier. Faye could let it, obviously.

But there is something more important to focus on at the moment.

"...I admit, I don't much like the idea of someone hurting you, intentional or not," she confesses after a while. "I am glad things aren't worse, however. That you're here and relatively alright. That's what's important. I promise I won't stampede out of here, Ludwig and Rom in tow, to hunt someone down," she assures with a soft chuckle. Tempting, however. "But I do want to tend to your burns tomorrow."

"I'm weighing challenging the hold you have on your feelings and just... needing someone, just one person, to understand." Valdyss tilts her face up to kiss the line of Faye’s jaw, noting the tension there. "Promise you'll let me handle it?" She leaves unspoken the warning that the answer the huntress gives will mold her own.

Faye let’s out a rumbling hum at that, shifting her face so she can find Valdyss’ and press a kiss to the other woman’s forehead before settling again.

She thinks for a little while before exhaling deeply. “I trust you,” she answered eventually. “Just… please let me at least tend to the burns as well. That’s all I’ll ask. Otherwise I promise to leave this to you.”

Valdyss nods. "I still don't fully understand how or why it happened, but this other mage, Grayce, had built up a reserve of arcane energy within herself that she was unable to contain." There's a far away, almost hollow quality to Val's tone as her retelling takes her back to the moment. "She was scared, and drunk and…" The arm around the huntress' waist tightens again. "Light, Faye, she was like a little mana bomb." The mage shudders at the thought.

"And I was frightened enough that everything I remember is just a jumble of her asking for help and someone else- Alexandria maybe - saying that I would before I even knew if I safely could. But I did, and taking Grayce's hand was… violent."

Warmth pools against Faye’s shoulder as the mage’s tears finally come. "I've done this for most of my life," Valdyss begins, pausing for a hitch in her breath. "Channeled energy, focused and cast it, but neither Grayce nor I had any control over this exchange and she just pushed the energy into me." She squeezes her eyes shut. "It was almost too much."

Wrath.

Anger swells up in Faye before she has the sense to push it back down again. An ugly, sinister little thing that prickles beneath her skin like growing frost. She can feel the dribbles of tears streaking down her shoulder as Valdyss finally lets them out. Focus on that. Wrath could come another day. After all, she had just promised, hadn't she?

So rather than plot or scheme some form of payback, Faye holds the other woman tight and gives her something solid to anchor to. Rather than talk right away, she opts to let Valdyss ride it out while she shows support in small rubs along the mage's arm and shoulders, and another kiss placed atop her head.

Valdyss feels the huntress' body grow tense in her half embrace. "Faye, no," she mutters against her neck. "Everything I need from you, you're giving me now."

Faye has to close her eyes and will her body to relax again as she gives up the anger. That, or at least set it aside fully for now. She kisses Valdyss again as the tension wears away.

"I'm sorry you had to feel that scared, Valdyss. I wish you'd never have had to be put in that position in the first place. That must have been terrifying."

"At first, yeah." The mage utters the word to illuminate the bedside rune as she pushes up on one elbow so she can meet Faye’s gaze. "But as I was running away to cast the energy off in a safe place, what I felt strongest was regret." She shakes her head and releases a sharp breath.

"And anger. Then back to fear of a different kind, because it occurred to me how many times I've stopped myself recently from telling you that I'm in love with you, out of worry that it might be too much or too soon. And in that moment, what scared me more than the burn of the arcane was the idea that I'd never get to tell you at all."

Faye has to squint for a time as her eyes grow re-accustomed to the new light. She stays as she was on her back, but idly reaches up to toy with some of the mage's hair.

That motion freezes as Faye looks at her in slight shock. It takes the baroness a while to process those words, heartfelt as they are, and to really gather just what they mean.

A few beats pass before Faye's expression changes. She reaches up to loop a hand around Valdyss's neck, pulling her close to press her own forehead to the mage's in a silent gesture of affection. She stays that way and closes her eyes for a little while.

"It's a lot." Faye admits quietly after a few minutes. "But I'm touched to hear it. I've... long since learned that Drustvar doesn't care much about pacing. It'll take ones you love without a second thought. I may not be saying 'I love you' back right now, but I know in my heart I will be soon. Especially if you keep being the way you are," Faye admits with a breathy little chuckle.

A small part of Val waits for the sinking in her gut that disappointment brings and her lips part to speak the word that will plunge the room into darkness again, but the feeling never comes and her features brighten with a smile instead. “I would do a rotten job of being anyone but who I am,” she replies with a chuckle.

Her expression sobers a little, but there is still joy in her eyes. “And I’ll never need to hear those words so long as you keep showing me as you have every time I see you.” The mage’s words are punctuated with a kiss before she snuggles into Faye’s side again and calls for a darkness that holds nothing foreboding, only comfort and warmth.

tagging @arcane-sunlight and @alexandriawilliams for mentions and @tyra-greydawn, @saferemercer, @terezascania and @merelliahallewell because they were there (I know I'm still missing folks, but I can't remember who... sorry!)

[resinatingbeauty]

I’ve had a lot of requests from various people at different times who are just learning how to use resin to create with and wanted some tips and tricks. I have wanted to make this post for a while, but I wanted to acquire more experience myself before giving others help. This first post is just going to go over some really basic tips and tricks and subsequent posts (if they’re found helpful) will elaborate. This is for all of you who are like me and get the least amount of benefit from watching Youtube tutorials these days because EVERYONE has one, and half the time they’re drawn out for ad revenue so an hour long video will only contain 20 mins worth of information with the kicker being you can’t even fast forward through what you know or rewind through ads to get back to where you need to be. So, for those of you who hate that like me, this text post is for you.

If you’re just starting, choosing which resin you want to purchase is intimidating. Craft stores like Michael’s and Hobby Lobby rarely offer more than one or two brands, typically over priced due to the fact that they’re labeled “art resins”.

Epoxy resin is by far the easiest to start with for beginners. It is the most forgiving, has the most consistent results, most brands use the same 1:1 ratio and the overall technique is the same. I am not affiliated with these brands/companies in any way other than I have used their products and have written reviews for several on Amazon.

Start with small packages (4oz-8oz kits / 8oz & 16oz hardener + resin). A quick Amazon search for epoxy resin will give you many results. This is one of those cases where you really don’t get what you pay for- boat, tabletop, etc. epoxy will yield the same results at more reasonable prices per fluid ounce than art resins. I recommend going with brands like FanAut, Puduo, Let’s Resin, Craft Daddy, etc. which often offer kits with gloves, craft sticks / stir sticks, measuring cups, and even additives at reasonable prices. All these items are things you’ll need to start off, so any extras are appreciated. I recommend Puduo, as it is relatively inexpensive compared to similar brands, yields consistent , crystal clear results, and has a somewhat faster curing time than other epoxy resins for the price. If none of these brands ring your bell, here are the qualifiers for a “good” epoxy resin:

Self Degassing- This is pretty much the standard expectation of epoxy resin and one of the reasons it is considered forgiving for beginners. When resin and hardener are combined, gases are trapped and form air bubbles which have a tendency to multiply as you stir your mixture and the combination heats up. But it shouldn’t be taken for granted that all epoxy resin does this, so try to look for “self degassing” in the item description / label.

Self Leveling vs. Doming : Doming resin is great for the magnified look on pendants and other flat projects, but self leveling resin is where you should be starting as doming requires the build up of surface tension to achieve. While “doming “ resin may achieve this easier than others without this feature, it is pretty irrelevant if you don’t know to dome resin in the first place.

Art Resin vs Other Epoxy: Art resins make claims of being ideal or a better choice for arts & crafts, but the reality is that you can achieve the same effects from table top or boat resins such as Mas- are just as capable of casting, coating, doming etc. as art resins especially if you’re looking to take on a larger project you will pay less and get more with these brands than smaller quantities of art resins. Make sure they are crystal clear, hard type, self degassing, and self leveling. Keep in mind that cure time relates to the size of your project and the ambient temperature of the environment, so don’t waste money on products that charge more for touting faster curing time.

What about 2 part epoxy in syringes? (Ice Resin, Gorilla Glue) Personally, these pre prepared epoxy resins are more complicated than they look. You can’t save combined resin and hardener, so once you mix the two or pop the seals to both you have to use the lot of it in one shot. Ice Resin in particular is quite expensive and doesn’t offer the clear, glossy results I expected it to when I used it, so I would avoid these if you are just starting out.

Additives & Extras- Don’t waste a lot of money at the start funding your would be creations until you have at least seen one entire project through from start to finish. I made the mistake of investing in silicone molds, glitters, additives like rhinestones, craft papers, transparency films etc before I really found my niche and what I was really using epoxy for the most. There are some great deals for 100+ piece silicone mold kits that include gloves, stir sticks, silicone measuring cups, and the like available cheaply for those looking to make smaller things like jewelry, keychains, figurines etc. the one I have just linked to even includes the epoxy for under $20. These kits are offered by Amazon and even Etsy and are a great place to start as they provide you with everything you would need to create at least one full project. They are also a great activity to do with your kids (ages 10+ would probably be ideal) as you can add pretty much anything that isn’t silicone, wax, unsealed paper, alcohol, or water based into resin, which opens up a world of possibilities!

Tips & Tricks That Will Save You $

If you’re itching for purchasing pigments to add color to your resin projects, try purchasing or reusing some old or cheap mineral eye shadows. Not sure if your eye shadow is mineral based? I’m willing to bet it is, though some colors may not look the same when mixed in resin as they do on the pallets, they will color it nonetheless, just pick a small amount up on a popsicle stick or toothpick and stir it into a small batch of resin to see how it turns out. Dollar Tree eye shadows will work just as well as expensive pigments, so consider this before investing in expensive mica pigment sets!

While silicone molds are probably the easiest and are reusable, you can also use plastic molds, carve your resin block with carpentry tools or by hand-or even make your own molds! There are simple recipes utilizing dish soap and corn starch out there, or you can use silicone or even hot glue! Flexible silicone molds won’t require a mold release, but plastic and other molds will or you may end up cutting your project out. You don’t have to purchase a mold release product for this, either- olive or vegetable oil spray on a paper towel will suffice, just remember to let your mold sit for a few hours to demoisturize.

Can’t find gloves because of COVID19 hype? Finger cots are even better than gloves as they allow for more dexterity even when they get sticky, are cheaper, and readily available in bulk online!

Pretty much anything compatible with homemade “slime” can be mixed into or embedded in resin, so there is that. However, be careful how much glitter, pigment, etc you add as you can throw off the chemical balance that allows your project to cure properly. Refer to the directions included with your specific resin kit as most will tell you what ratios must be maintained for proper curing.

Everyone that works with resin knows the arch nemesis that is the bubbles. There are times where it seems like, no matter what you do, your perfect clear cast of a dandelion goes to shit because of some stray air bubbles. There are a few tricks to avoid this from the start:

Use a separate cup to measure resin and hardener. Pour the combined mixture into a fourth cup after the first 3-4 mins of stirring (half time) scraping the sides and bottom. This helps what was on the bottom get integrated into what was mixed on top. Always make sure to pour resin first when mixing and mix slowly, scraping the sides and bottom, for the time listed on your instructions. You want your mixture to be almost water consistency, clear, fluid, with little viscosity, and no streaks visible. Allow it to sit for a few minutes to natural degas and get rid of the bubbles.

Use a torch or grill lighter to pop surface bubbles. You can also do each one individually (as the grill lighter suggestion may not always be a good idea- be careful using this on large projects and molds that may ignite) with a tooth pick. Using a blow dryer or heat gun will also help bubbles rise to the surface to be popped.

Make sure that you keep contact with the bottom of your mixing cup with your stir stick-try not to lift it too much as this can introduce air into the mixture (“whipping the resin”) this can also occur if you are stirring too quickly. If you notice a lot of bubbles, let your mixture sit for a few minutes and resume stirring at a slower pace.

Make sure you start your project at a temperature of 74 degrees +, if your bottles are cold to touch, place them in a plastic bag and let them sit in hot water to warm up. You can also roll them (slowly) on a counter top.

You know, if all else fails you could always make ocean or nautical themed projects :)

That’s all for now- let me know if this helped you or someone you know working with resin or experimenting. Feel free to comment with any questions you would like answered in my next post! I also recommend the Resin Obssesion blog- they have a lot of useful information and tutorials with photos that were really helpful for me starting out!

Xo Samantha

[hobisbeech]

Even the drug dealer likes you | K.T

Stoner!Reader and StonerBFF! Taehyung talk about readers dry spells.

Posted: 03/29/2021

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[y/n] laid on her bed, scrolling through the app as her hair tangled up on her pillow. She had been intrigued by this fan fiction story she had found on tumblr. Her favorite kpop idol was written in a best friend to lovers aspect. She cooed over the cover picture. Pining over the one person she knew would never even know she existed.

Letting out an exasperated whimper, [y/n] scrolled down slowly reading:

(Kpop idols name) had been watching you, dancing ridiculously in front of him. In his living room, on his big screen TV, was a live stream of (your fav artist name) performing all of their top hits. [y/n] glanced back making sure her best friend was enjoying his time just as much as she was. He stood up, taking a few steps to reach her. He slid his arms around her waist from behind, startling her with his actions. “Oh gosh! You scared me doofus!” [y/n] turned around quickly slapping him harshly on his arm. A small rumble of a laugh escaped his throat. He grabbed you again, now pushing you closer to his chest, his hands once again landing around your waist.

You scoffed at the action, how could she just fall for that trick, you thought to yourself. You rolled your eyes in annoyance as you turned to your side, hugging the small decorative pillow to your chest. Knowing very well why the writer wrote this cheesy scene. You screeched, your voice instantly reaching a new level of highness. You knew from a readers point of view, this was exactly what you wanted. The concept had you eating from the palm of their hands and you did not mind at all. At least, you never exactly admitted it. You were a sucker for love. You knew that no one or nothing was going to change that. You huffed, this time it’ll be different. This time I will be strong. You looked back at your screen and continued reading:

“What do you think you’re doing?” [y/n] with doe eyes looked up, nervous at what her best friend was thinking of doing. (Kpop idols name) looked at her, a small hint of embarrassment showing on his cheeks. He looked away, he cursed at himself internally. Get it together man, he thought to himself. He mustered the courage to look at her again, he placed his index finger under her chin and lifted her gaze to his.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time now. How crazy you make me. I go to sleep thinking about you. And I wake up to the thought of you.” He caressed your cheek, and with his arm around your waist he pulled you in closer to him.

He looked straight into your eyes, lustfully gazing into them, he whispered “Can I kiss you, jagi?”

You groaned loudly. This was just a very very cheesy story. You rolled your eyes dramatically, and laid on your back. “Ugh! Why do I always read these?!” You rubbed at your face, dropping your phone on your side. “They only make me feel even lonelier..” you exasperated, spacing out with just a blank stare up at the ceiling fan. You couldn’t believe that once again you were in this predicament. You laid there thinking about what had happened to you the weekend before. With a scowl on your face, you groaned again feeling hopeless about your non existent sex life. And the invincible blue balls that pulsed loudly in between your thighs.

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The guy you had been talking to had invited you over to hang out one day. Knowing how your conversations with him had taken a turn to SEX-ville. You had made sure to prep the day before. Making sure whatever needed to be shaven and trimmed, was. You made sure you wore your best outfit, and also the easiest to take off. When you had arrived at his place, everything seemed as if it was going according to plan.

You both had rolled a blunt to have a smoke session together. And had a comedy movie playing in the background. You sat comfortably on his living room couch, lighting the blunt you had just finished rolling. Taking a few hits from it you passed it to him. The night had just settled in and the blunts were now nothing but small roaches that were put out on the ashtray that laid lazily on the over beaten coffee table.

The handsome guy had turned his gaze to you, lazily tracing small circles on your exposed knee. Your now low and bloodshot eyes, looked at him. With a small smile, he leaned closer. Leaving the smallest of space between you both. You could feel his breath settle and then fade from your lips. You knew you couldn’t deny him, so you made the first move. Closing the space between you both with a kiss. He snaked his hand behind your neck, keeping you steady. Not wanting to break the kiss, he began slowly caressing your body. Pinching your nipples through your blouse. He engulfed your small/medium/large breast in his large hand.

You whimpered in between kisses.

Leaning your head back, breaking the kiss, “That feels so good. It would feel better if I took my shirt off.” As you were reaching for the bottom hem of your blouse he stopped you. “I’m sorry, [y/n]. I know this got heated so fast but I can’t really do anything tonight. I have work in a few hours. I hope you understand.” This was the 3rd friggin’ time he had pulled that meaningless excuse on you, you internally scowled.

“Yeah yeah totally. I get it.” You sighed, with a small smile you adjusted your shirt and flattened it down to get rid of some of the wrinkles.

“Are you sure [y/n]? I hope I didn’t send any mix signals or anything?” He furrowed his eyebrows, feeling a bit of shame, his cheeks blooming with a soft pink for leaving you high and bothered. Mix signals?! You screamed internally.

You shrugged him off and smiled, “yeah definitely. We’re good. What time is it?” You asked, feeling your hands fiddle with the end of your blouse. “Oh uh,” he anxiously tapped at his phone screen. “It’s 9:30pm.”

“Oh okay cool, I’ll go ahead and skedaddle then,”

you nervously chuckled.

You both stood up quickly. He nervously laughed, and with a faint blush on his face, he handed you your purse and keys that you had aimlessly thrown on his couch when you had first arrived. “Thank you,” you said with a small bow. He smiled at you again now a little brighter.

“I’ll walk you out,” he informed you as he stepped in front of you. You followed him, with your head bowed and a blush that threatened to appear. He opened the door and moved to the side so you had room to exit. You looked back at him once again and he waved you goodbye. You walked away as quickly as possible, not hearing him call out to you that he had a great time. You unlocked your car and hopped in. Turning your engine on as quickly as possible, you burned off. Leaving behind black streaks from the burned rubber of your tires on the road.

Could this night get any worse? You thought to yourself.

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“[y/n-ahh]” your best friend loudly yelled from your living room. “What time was the plug gonna come and drop off ? I wanna smoke already,” he whined, leaning his head back on the couch. His long bangs falling awkwardly around his face.

You chuckled, and quickly checked your phone. You grabbed your closed packaged cigarillos from your top drawer in your bedroom and, scanned for the text message from your weed man telling you how far he was from your place.

Stepping into the living room, you dropped yourself beside him. With a smile you answered your handsome best friend, “He should be here in a few mins. He doesn’t live far, Taehyung.”

Your brown mullet haired friend huffed, dropping his hand on your thigh heavily. “Gosh, it sounds like he’s never gonna make it here,” you chuckled, placing your hand under his chin and scratching at his now 2 week old scruff.

You rolled your eyes, “dude we literally smoked this morning. How could you possibly be this needy now?”

Taehyung raised his head and gave you a knowing look, “you’re one to talk!” He spatted, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Taehyung had a long list of things that could possibly make him needy but this wasn’t one of them.

“Why can’t I just get laid? Why doesn’t anyone want my pussy?” He whined in his best impression of you. When he was done he gave you another knowing look. “Hey! That’s not fair!” You yelled back, “at least I don’t brag about how many cheeks I’ve clapped this week.”

You sulked this time, crossing your own arms in front of you. You didn’t turn to look at your best friend. If you had, you would’ve seen the mischievous smirk on his face. He loved it when you sulked. Just watching you pout and be upset about something was one of many things he liked about you.

In fact, he could practically see himself with you. But he couldn’t tell you that. Of course not. Who the fuck knows how you would react if he was to ever confess to you how much he liked you. Scratch that. How inlove he was with you, his best friend. Before, he could continue on this tangent he had unconsciously dug himself in, you abruptly moved. Standing up from the spot that was slowly molding into you.

You opened your door, seeing your weed man, Yoongi, awkwardly standing there waiting with expectant eyes. You smiled, “hey man! Thank you so much for this. Best friend over there is having a cow because I supposedly finished our weed this morning. When in fact he smoked the last of it with me.” You told your plug, grabbing the money you owed him from your pocket. You quickly glanced back, sticking your tongue out at Taehyung. Your black haired friend, chuckled looking behind you at Taehyung, whom he had met a handful of times. “No worries man, I tell jagi all the time, a friend with weed is a friend indeed. Enjoy man! This is some fire shit.” With a smirk on his face, he winks at you, “bye jagi, let me know how you like this. I’ll catch you later.” Before you could even muster a response he was already halfway down your hallway leaving you with only a silhouette to make out.

You slowly closed your front door, absentmindedly locking it. “Did my plug just flirt with me?” You questionably looked at Taehyung. Taehyung was still in shock that even your weed man was throwing moves at you. He shook the thoughts away.

“wow ! [y/n] he probably likes you. He even told you to let him know if you liked his weed,” Taehyung, quickly smiled and as quick as his smile came it left his bronzed face. He snatched the medium sandwich bag from your hand, “thank you oh so much my dear [y/n]”

“Oh hush up and just roll us a blunt. I’ve had it rough these past couple of days.” You inform him, shrugging off any hint of annoyance your best friend was giving off. Taehyung made himself comfortable on the couch again, reaching for your new blue grinder you had recently purchased. He didn’t say anything else to you, letting the comfortable silence swallow you both.

Taehyung had managed to roll 4 blunts and still left weed for you guys to smoke at a later time. You had started playing some soft (genre) music you and Taehyung could enjoy. You relaxed into the couch and sparked up the first blunt. You inhaled and exhaled a couple of times and passed it to him.

“Tae why is it that I can’t get laid?” You randomly asked your best friend, laying your head back. “I mean let me elaborate. Why is it that I can’t just have a good fuck? It feels like I have to go through an obstacle course just to get a guy to notice me.” You ranted to your best friend, grabbing the blunt between your index finger.

“I think the guys get too intimidated with how easy going you are. And feel like they’re not good enough for you.” Taehyung responds, twisting his body to face you as he exhaled the rest of the smoke he had in his mouth.

You turned your face to him, “what do you mean? Isn’t that a good thing ? That I can just go with the flow,” you added, dropping your gaze and taking a hit from the blunt he had passed to you. Taehyung smirked, he scooted closer to you placing his hand as gently as possible on your cheek. “My dear jagi, you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. You tolerate me, you don’t really complain when I rant to you, you listen to me when I rant about the girls I’ve talked to, and even scratch my hair whenever I ask. Like come on best friend ! You are the whole package. You even cook food for us, for when the munchies hit.” He explained, listing the reasons one by one of why you were the best person you could possibly be.

Feeling the high rush to your head, you chuckled lightly, as you took a couple more hits from the blunt and passed it to your brown mullet haired friend. “Taehyung-ie can I ask you something?” You quirked up, leaning closer to him, your shoulders resting on one another. He nodded, exhaling the smoke he had just inhaled. “If you didn’t know me personally, would you smash me?” You asked, looking down quickly, not wanting Taehyung to see how red you were getting.

He coughed, and coughed some more. It had taken him about a minute or two and some water for him to stabilize himself from all the coughing. You looked at him again, “I shouldn’t have asked that. You practically almost died on me,” you dropped your gaze, you hadn’t meant to make your best friend uncomfortable. You just thought since both minds were foggy now he would just see it as a funny question. He probably didn’t even see me like that, you thought to yourself.

“Wait wait wait..” Taehyung spoke, he scooted closer to you. Intertwining both your hands with his, he laid them in his lap. The small smoken nub of a blunt long forgotten on the ashtray placed on the coffee table. Looking straight into your bloodshot eyes, he smiled. “Babygirl, I love you. And if you ever gave me the chance I would in a heartbeat jump your bones.” He kept his eyes locked on you, “and I mean it,” his voice had dropped an octave. Sounding a bit more deep and lustful.

You only heard that voice when both of you would fall asleep together and he would try to wake you up in the morning to ask you where you had your tea bags. Most of the time he was just a big fluff ball that loved flirting with you. Your thumb absentmindedly rubbed at the back of his hand.

“Would you ever let me?” He softly asked you, the words coming out as a slight whisper. He looked down at your entwined hands and smiled.

You observed him, did your best friend like you like that? How long has he had these thoughts? Did you like him like that? Or was it just the fact that you hadn’t had any luck in the guy department and Taehyung was offering? You shook the thoughts away. “Would I let you?” You hesitantly repeated his question, he nodded giving you one of his knowing smiles.

“Yeah, I would.”

Taehyung’s eyes bulged out, he didn’t believe you.

“No cap?”

You chuckled, shaking your head slightly “yessir.”

Instantly Taehyung jumped on you pushing you back, to lay on the couch. He was now on top of you. His thighs straddling your lap. He chuckled, wrapping his arms under your shoulders, he placed his head on the crook of your neck and you lovingly wrapped your arms over his broad shoulders. He snuggled into you, “jagi I’m sorry that that guy gave you blue balls. I can help you if you need some release.” He suggested not daring to look up at you.

You stiffened, wow Tae was just coming out with so many surprises. How on earth could he help you? you didn’t necessarily want an answer to that question. “Um uh- Tae wouldn’t that ruin our friendship or something? I don’t want you to look at me any different.” You hid your gaze behind his hair, your hand had sneaked into his locks and just scratched away at your worries. Taehyung propped himself up, caging your head between his forearms. “Jagi I will never look at you differently. You are my best friend for crying out loud. You’ve seen me naked, and I’ve seen you naked,” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, giving you his crackhead signature smirk.

“Taehyung! Stop!”

You playfully yelled at him, smacking his arm.

“Anyways, before I was rudely interrupted,” he nipped at your neck.

“I was saying,” he bit lower under your ear.

He lowered his voice to a lustrous whisper, with a deep tone he spoke, “I’ve always daydreamed what it would be like to finally have you under me.” He exhaled a deep breath fanning over your exposed neck.

“I always wondered what it would be like to have you quiver under me, to have you beg me for more,” once again his voice timbered out his mouth, violating your ears. Intruding your every thought, you were getting turned on.

“Tae,” you whimpered looking up at him.

His eyes were glossy from the smoke, but they also showed love.

Love for you is all he had, a ginormous amount of nothing but love. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked you, searching your eyes for any discomfort. You shake your head no. “I love you Taehyung, and I would love you even more if you showed me what else that mouth of yours can do.” Your devilish voice had made an appearance, wiggling your eyebrows at him, you smirked.

“Oh?” Taehyung laughed, dropping his head on the crook of your neck again.

“Oh yeah? You wanna see how my tongue would feel on your precious cunt?”

His tongue had trailed a soft wet line from the crook of your neck all the way up to your earlobe. He had sucked on the skin taking it in between his teeth.

Your body shivered, revealing small goosebumps. “Yes I wanna know how you would touch me. I want you to tell me Tae.” You whimpered, rubbing your thighs together. His voice alone was turning you the fuck on. Taehyung couldn’t believe it. Maybe it was because he was stoned like no other and he tended to drift off in day dream land from time to time.

He sat up on his bent knees. He slowly took his t-shirt off letting it fall beside him. He reached down for yours, “may I?” He asked you. You nodded smiling up at him as he reached to take your shirt off. Letting it drop beside you.

He whistled,

“wow, ladies and gentlemen jagi did not have a bra under that shirt,”

he reached for your breasts kneading at them both softly.

“I remember the times you would walk around in just a t-shirt and panties,”

He let out a deep full husk groan.

“It was the most magnificent sight, I ever had the pleasure to lay my eyes on.” With his thumb he rubbed at your nipple until it perked up on its own. You whined, the feeling that was exuding from his touch was enticing.

His voice and his words were enchanting you. The way Taehyung's voice would bounce around between the walls in your living room. Was impeccable. You had no idea how much power his tone held. It made your insides tremble. All you wanted now was for Tae’s tongue to finally make contact with your cunt.

“Taeee, please!” you whimpered, your body squirming underneath him. It was instant, like a switch had turned on within him. He pinned you down, holding your arms beside your head. He had his knee pushing up your core. Your legs instantly spread open for him.

“Tsk tsk tsk, who’s the needy one now?” He lowered his voice and whispered into your ear. “I can already tell you are wet just by the sound of my voice,” his deep voice bluntly stated.

You couldn’t help but move, you wanted nothing but friction. Something to just release you if only for a moment. His thigh stayed still between you. You could feel your vagina folds rub against the fabric of your underwear. Wetter and wetter it got.

“Is my jagi trying to rub herself against my thigh?”

He asked, tilting his head sideways with a small flirty grin on his face.

[y/n] exasperated, you couldn’t believe that this moment was actually happening. Your body was burning for Taehyung’s touch. You wanted him to just touch you. Caress your skin. Feel the amble of your breasts. Run his fingernails down your chest. You wanted his long fingers trail down and douse in your essence. You wanted him to fill you up with his digits. Make you unravel with just his precious fingers. You stared into his eyes, they were now a dark glossy brown. His pupils had been dilated due to the amount of marijuana he had smoked. He was intoxicating. You could feel this heat type of energy radiating off of him. Every time his hand would touch you, it burned. Your body was exuding heat, your thoughts twirled in your mind. His essence had completely taken over you. You had submitted to your best friend, you were ready for him.

“Taehyung please fuck me. I need to feel you inside me.” You whined through gritted teeth. You couldn’t take it anymore and absentmindedly grinded against his thigh. Feeling the pressure from his knee on your clothed core, it felt great. But it wasn’t enough, you needed to come undone connected.

Taehyung looked down at his knee, the sight his eyes had set on, was mouth watering. Seeing you, a whining mess grinding on his knee, was the last straw for him. He grabbed your thigh, stopping you. He grabbed your sweats and underwear roughly pulled them down. You moved your hips upwards and let him finish undressing you. He continued by unriddening himself of his pants, pushing his boxers down with them.

He pumped himself a couple of times using his own pre cum as lubricant. Just watching you, fully exposed in front of him made him crazy. He aligned himself in front of your entrance. Picking up one of your thighs for more leverage. He looked down at you, his gaze softer now. His eyebrows furrowed, he whispered, “you can tell me to get off at any time and we’ll stop.” He searched your eyes for a minute for any discomfort you might’ve been experiencing.

You smiled, raising your hand to softly caress his cheek. “I couldn’t have asked for anyone else to take care of me. I love you so much, but Taehyung baby I’m gonna need you to fuck me into this couch.” You stated brusquely, grabbing on to his waist and pulled him into you.

You moaned loudly looking into Taehyung’s eyes as his face contorted, dropping to his forearms around your head. Your legs had wrapped nicely around his waist holding him still in this position.

“Ohhh fuck jagi you’re even wetter than I thought. A-are you okay for me to move?” He asked, staring back at you.

You smirked, wrapping your arms around him, “go to town baby.”

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A couple orgasms later, you were both nakedly sprawled out on the couch. Out of breath and slightly sweaty. You both looked at each other lovingly. His dorky boxy smile on full display. Not wanting to move he scooted his hand closer to yours. Sending you a knowing look to take his hand in yours. You returned his smile, a blush sneaking to your cheeks.

So many thoughts had run through your mind. This handsome man that you had met so long ago. Who you became close to overtime. Was gazing at you stupidly in love. You probably didn’t know what was going to happen next.

But one thing for sure,

Taehyung might be your quirky best friend, that needs your full attention at all times.

At the end he was the one that had your legs trembling, and screaming his name. You were the lucky one in this happy ending.