#gaze lingering on the wooden plank piano

[moonlight-nat]

his reaction to lestat saying he’s rehearsing is so cute. he’s like part amused, part concerned, and still so fond of him and it hurts

[writtenonreceipts]

Heya, absolutely love your writing!😍I was just wondering when you have the time and all, would you consider writing something about rowaelin where basically the same thing happens to Aelin as it did Lyria, but only modern au (Lyria never happened).

Thanks so much, it means a lot that you like my stuff!  Thanks for the prompt.  It kinda got away from me… I got in pretty deep with plot points and stuff, haha.    Based on Characters from the Throne of Glass series.

Warning: don’t let the first half fool you, there’s gonna be tears and pain.

#

All My Love

It started at seven fifty-nine on a Friday night.

Rowan Whitethorn was hurrying through the City Park cursing at the crowds of people standing in his way.  He should have remembered that the city tradition of open mike night at the gazebo by the waterfront would have made the park nearly impassible.  But did people have to stand so close together?

He’d gotten of late from his at the police station and was a short walk away from his small apartment.  Or what would have been short had the park not been infested with tourists and and locals alike.

The sun barely began its descent leaving the sky graced with gold and hues of pink.  Heat from the record high day lingered, despite being so near the lake.  Normally Rowan might enjoy the view, but there were too many people invading his space.  At least he could be happy that he wasn’t assigned the shift to make sure things didn’t get out of hand.

He moved down the stone path that cut behind the gazebo and took a shortcut back to his apartment.  As he dodged a running child, however, something caught his attention.

Actually, it was someone.

She stood in the center of the gazebo; her long and willowy limbs were leaning against a white piano while she laughed at something her companion said.  Her long, golden hair swept down her back in soft waves.  Even a distance he could tell she was beautiful.  The woman patted her friend on the shoulder and moved to sit at the piano.  And then she started to play.

The notes were slow, soft, gentle.  A tune tumbling forth with careful measure.  The song wasn’t one Rowan recognized, granted he knew next to nothing about music.  Yet the longer Rowan listened the more entranced he became by the song.  Slowly, he picked his way around the gazebo so he had a better angle on the woman as she played.

The sight was indescribable.  In all honesty, it looked like the woman had become one with the music.  She moved with each caress of the ivory keys as though she herself were dancing to the song.  Her eyes shut softly and an easy smile moved across her sinful mouth.

It was glorious.

When the end of the song regretfully came, the park erupted into cheers and applause.  A man came forward and began speaking into a microphone setup.

“The ever wonderful, Aelin Galathynius,” the man called out, his words were eaten by another round of applause.

Aelin.  Aelin.  Aelin.

She offered the crowd a dazzling smile as she politely declined to play another song.  A small band replaced her, three guys and a rustic looking guitar.

Rowan watched as she descended the small steps to the gazebo.  She greeted a few people with a wave or a pat on the shoulder.  All too soon, in Rowan’s opinion at least, she was forgotten to the new beats of a guitar and low gravely notes of the singer on stage.

There was something about her that called to him.  Rowan didn’t know what it was exactly, but his eyes easily tracked her as she moved up the path that led away from the gazebo and up a boardwalk that wrapped around the lake.  Before he could think twice about what he was doing, Rowan followed her.

He caught up easily to her and his steps on the wooden planks caused her to turn around and meet his gaze.  Her wide blue and gold eyes snagged him immediately and Rowan wouldn’t have minded drowning in them.

A slow smile slid on her lips as she eyed him. “Hello.”

She was confident.  With that smile.  With that word.  With that stare.  And Rowan found himself dumbfounded.

“You don’t usually play on open mike nights,” he said.

Aelin quirked an eyebrow. “You sound certain of that.”

“I would have remembered,” he replied.

She laughed and rolled her eyes as if his words didn’t mean anything.  But Rowan noted the soft blush rising on her cheeks.  She was flattered.  Slightly uncomfortable, but that could have been from performing in front of a crown.  Everything else about her welcomed his advances and Rowan took care to read each and every signal she sent him.

“Dorian forced me into it,” she said, “told me it would be good business for the shop.”

The way she casually referenced the mayor didn’t go unnoticed to Rowan, but he found himself more intrigued by the second part of her sentence. 

“Shop?”  

“Queen’s Place,” Aelin replied, “my bookshop.  And where I teach piano lessons.”

Rowan found himself smiling at the image of her moving through a bookshop, of her sitting with children at a piano bench, at that smile brightening everyone’s day.  

“I walk by it every day,” he said.  He wasn’t lying, but to be honest he’d never given the shop a second glance.  What a fool he’d been.

“Well, now you have a reason to actually come in.”  

#

Waking up beside her was the one thing Rowan knew he would want to do for the rest of his life.

Curled on her side with her legs tangled in his sheets, Aelin slept soundly.  Her hair was a mess and that was entirely his fault.  As were the growing marks on her neck, her collar bone, lower, lower they descended.  

Leaning up on an elbow, Rowan watched her sleep as the early gray light of morning filtered through his bedroom window.  She didn’t stir.  He watched the rise and fall of her chest, how her eyelids fluttered, and the slight pucker of her lips.  

Those sinful lips.

Rowan reached a hand out and gently brushed her hair out of her face.  

They hadn’t been together very long.  Not when you considered how often Rowan worked and the fact that Aelin ran her own business.  They were often like ships in the night.  But each time they passed by Rowan was filled with inexplicable joy.

Aelin sighed softly and reached a hand out.  Rowan captured her hand with his and brought her fingertips to his lips, kissing softly.  A slow, lazy smile spread on Aelin’s mouth and she cracked an eye open.

“Are you watching me?” she asked.

“Naturally,” he said.  He grinned as she scrunched her nose and grumbled.  When she tried to regain her hand, he tightened his grip and pulled her closer to him.

Humming happily, Aelin tilted her head up to accept a kiss.  A long, deep kiss to be sure.

“I love this,” she murmured against his lips.

“What?” he asked, his hands trailing down her bare sides.

“Waking up with you,” she said.  She threaded her fingers in his hair as she pressed closer to him.  “Mornings like this.”

It was the closest they’d ever come to admitting their feelings.  Even though Rowan was certain he was in love with her.  He had been from the moment he saw her in the gazebo playing the piano.  He wanted to tell her of course.  Wanted her to know.  But he also knew what was keeping him from doing so.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table and Aelin cursed into his mouth.  Rowan swallowed the word, absorbing the disappointment it held before pulling away to check the message.

“Work,” he said.

“I know.”

Rowan looked down at her with her eyes closed and hair a halo on the pillow.  He wanted more than anything to make sure he’d always wake up beside her.

#

Maeve Valg was not the kind of person Rowan wanted to work for.  It took him a long time before he figured out what it was about her that made him so uneasy.  She was driven, dead strong, passionate--all good things.  It took him entirely too long to see her cruelty, her pride, her bloodlust.

“All I’m saying Detective,” Maeve said as she leaned across his desk toward him, “is that your skills and specialties are remarkable.  You’d make a difference to your country if you’d consider my offer.”

Rowan stared at the woman.  She had to be in her mid to late thirties--and yet her long dark hair framed a youthful face, full red lips, and devilish eyes.  This was the third time in as many months that Maeve had tried to recruit him for her independent security agency.  Mostly because his former sergeant Gavriel--damn him--had recommended Rowan for the position.

“I’ll think about it,” Rowan lied.

In all honesty, right now was not a good time to even consider changing jobs.  Not when there was a ring burning a hole in the side table of his dresser.  Not when he’d spent the last four months convincing Aelin to move in with him.  Not when he’d just left her side barely an hour ago and he was already craving her touch, her taste, everything about her.

It wasn’t until later that night when Rowan met Aelin at that fateful gazebo that he was finally able to push all thoughts of Maeve aside.  When he was finally able to smile freely at the sight of her in a pale blue dress that clung to each and every one of her curves.

“Hey,” she said as he approached.

Whatever else she’d been about to say was cut off when he pulled her into a kiss.  His mouth slanted almost urgently against hers and he couldn’t help the way his finger dug into her waist desperately.

“Hey,” he said when he finally pulled back.

Aelin grinned wickedly and he knew she was thinking about breaking into the nearest boathouse to continue that kiss.  But all too suddenly her expression turned serious.

“What?” Rowan asked, heart stilling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

Rowan froze, terrified that she knew about the ring. “I don’t--”

“Lorcan told me about Maeve,” Aelin continued.  She rested a hand on his cheek. “Rowan...that job sounds amazing.”

Blinking, Rowan fought against the rising panic in his gut.  He really wanted to find Lorcan and beat his ass, but he was also concerned by what Aelin thought about it.

“I’m not taking it,” he said flatly.

Aelin scowled. “Yes you are.  It’s higher pay for one.  Better control over your work.  Most of it sounds like a security detail.”

“I’m not taking it,” he repeated.

“Babe,” Aelin insisted, “it sounds like a great opportunity.  Why not?”

Rowan shook his head and pulled away from her.  This wasn’t how he wanted to do this.  Not really.  But with the sharpness to her eyes, the determined tilt of her chin--he had to do it.

“Because of you,” he whispered.

“Don’t,” Aelin said, “don’t put this on me.”

Rowan reached out automatically and grabbed her hands tightly in his. “It’s always been because of you.”

And then he was down on one knee while fumbling in his pocket for the ring.  

Aelin gasped and whispered his name.

Rowan looked up at her, the ring in his fingers and tears brimming in his eyes. “I first saw you here.  And I knew then and there that I was going to love you for the rest of my life.  If you let me.  Aelin Galathynius, will you marry me?”

She let out a small strangled noise that was a cross between a sob and something else that Rowan couldn’t decipher but the frantic bob of her head was enough for him to understand what the answer was.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she whispered.

Rowan slid the ring on her finger and his lips on her mouth.

#

When Rowan took the job he still wasn’t sure about it.  But most of his friends were on the crew along with two kids who had just come back from Pakistan.  They were given weeks on end together to learn how they could become a team.

Aelin liked to joke that Rowan had gained five work wives now.  Rowan tried to tell her she was wrong but his words held no meaning.  Not when five out of seven days a week any of the boys in the crew ended up sleeping on the Whitethorn-Galathynius couch.  Usually Fenrys.

Unfortunately those nights grew few and far between as the year went on.

“How does Aelin feel about you spending your honeymoon with us?” Connall asked through an earpiece as they stood stationed around Senator Erawan’s reelection fundraiser.

Rowan could hear the grin in his voice.

“Yeah,” Fenrys added, “didn’t even have time to--”

“Stop talking.” It was Gavriel who spoke this time.  Rowan could see him across the hall walking behind the Senator and his wife. “Especially about my niece.”

The twins cackled.

Rowan shook his head and contained a smile.  As much as he’d been unsure about this job--it had given him some of the best friends he knew.

A gunshot rang out through the hall.

Immediately Rowan had his gun unholstered and turned to the source of the shot.  Out of his peripheral vision he saw Gavriel and Vaughn cover the senator and his wife.  Lorcan cursed over the comms.

“Lost him!”

“Got it,” Rowan replied.  Up on the second floor, a glass balcony overlooked the rest of the hall and a shape darted out of eyesight.  Running to the nearest stairwell, Rowan instructed his team on what he saw.

“Wait for backup,” Gavriel ordered, but Rowan was already gone.

#

He arrived home three days later to a royally pissed off Aelin.

Rowan knew it was bad when he walked into the kitchen to find three perfectly frosted chocolate cakes sitting out of the counter.  One had strawberries lining the top, another almonds, and the third a chocolate cookie crumble.  He was utterly screwed.

“Fireheart?” he called out hesitantly.

He heard the bathroom door shut down the hall and Aelin stalked toward him.  Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and bright red splotches colored her cheeks.  Tears rimmed her eyes.

“Baby,” Rowan said as he stepped toward her.

She shook her head and walked around him to the cakes.  There was already a piece missing from the one with strawberries and she cut another piece off and flopped it on a plate.  

“I am so mad at you,” she said as she stuffed a large bite in her mouth.

“I know,” Rowan replied.

“Fenrys told me what you did.  Gavriel told you to wait and you went charging after the man.”

“I know.”

“You could have died.”

“I know.”

Aelin nearly broke the plate when she threw it down on the counter.  Rowan stared into her brilliant eyes and waited for his next reprimand. “Stop saying that.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Rowan said quietly.  He set his bag on the floor and crossed into the kitchen until he stood across from his wife. “We both knew what the job entailed.  And I had to catch the man.

“I was terrified Ro,” Aelin whispered.  She ran her fingers beneath her eyes and sniffed loudly.  “We can’t lose you.”

“I know,” he said, moving so he stood just before her.  He was going to say something else when Aelin’s words caught up to him.  “We?”

Aelin let out a strangled laughing as fresh tears washed down her cheeks.  She looked up into Rowan’s eyes, one hand going to her belly.

“We.”

#

Despite the chaos of his job and despite the chaos of his pregnant wife--Rowan Whitethorn knew that everything was going to work out in the end.  

With Aelin being nearly eight months along, they’d decided together that it would be best to start over.  For Rowan to leave his risky job behind and find something closer to home.  They’d both spent weeks thinking about it, talking to each other, and they’d come to the same conclusion.  They needed their family to stay together.

Of course, Maeve didn’t understand why Rowan would want to leave.  Not that he could make her understand.  Not that any of them could.  Even the rest of the team had understood the decision.  Rowan needed his family.

“Fine,” Maeve relented one day.  She sat behind her desk looking absolutely bored one day.  Running her hands over her desk she sighed. “I’ll let you go, Rowan.  But I just need you for one more job.”

Rowan stiffened at the sheer pleasure in her eyes of what was to come.  She tossed a folder at him.  He opened it and frowned.

Archer Flynn.  

A high end hooker for hire.  Known especially for sleeping with Senator Erawan.

“I need him arrested,” Maeve said.  She sounded as though she were requesting he buy lettuce from the store.

Rowan continued staring at the picture of the man. “I thought we were keeping an eye on Cairn.”

“Don’t worry about Cairn,” Maeve said.  “Mr. Flynn is far more troublesome.  Besides, Cairn is going to be taken care of.”

Rowan didn’t like the dismissive way that Maeve addressed him.  Nor did he like the smile that rested on her lips.

“And just like that,” he said, “ you’ll let me end my contract?”

“Absolutely,” Maeve promised.

For some reason, Rowan believed her.

He left with Lorcan the following day, assuring Aelin everything would be alright.  It was only an arrest after all.

When he and Lorcan found the apartment that was serving as Flynn’s hideout, Rowan should have known something was wrong.

The door was broken in, wood splintered across the floor.  A pool of blood was rapidly growing beneath a form tied to a chair.  Rowan and Lorcan rushed to room to the young Archer Flynn.  His blonde hair was plastered over his brow with a mix of sweat and blood.  The stab wounds in his legs and side were less than ideal.  Looking at all the man’s injuries, Rowan knew there was nothing that could be done for him.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” Lorcan muttered while Rowan continued tending to Flynn’s wounds.

This wasn’t right.  This couldn’t have been right.

When Flynn began to speak, Rowan almost thought it was the man’s dying breath.

“S’lied to me,” Flynn rasped, his words to muffled to understand, “to all of us.”

Rowan lifted the man's chin. “What are you talking about?”

“Cairn was always the problem child,” Flynn whispered.  And then with a final breath--Flynn died.

Rowan let Flynn’s head fall.  What the hell was going on?

His phone rang in his pocket but he ignored it.

“Lorcan, he’s dead,” Rowan called out.  His phone continued ringing.

Lorcan reentered the room, phone pressed against his ear.  The man’s dark eyes were wide and a frown deepened his already deep scowl.

“Lorcan?” Rowan asked.

Clearing his throat, Lorcan shook his head. “We gotta get back home.”

#

Rowan had never liked hospitals.

They were death traps in his opinion.  Everyone he loved would always go in and never come back out.  So for the first time in a very long time, he found himself praying.  Praying that for once, he would be wrong.  That for once, something good would come of the hospital.  That for once, he wouldn’t be left alone.

“She was stabbed multiple times in the chest,” a doctor said, “they’re working on her now.  But you need to prepare yourself.”

They baby.  What about the baby?

The words never left his lips.  He couldn’t bring them too.  Or maybe he did say them and the doctor ignored him.  Either way, Rowan’s mind was churning too much.  Something had gone wrong.

“It was Cairn,” Gavriel said from beside him.

Rowan had no idea when the man showed up but he didn’t really care.  He stared at a wall advertising things for sale and brochures for various recovery programs.

“He got to her somehow.”

Maeve was supposed to take care of the man.  She’d said so.  Rowan didn’t say the words aloud.  They wouldn’t do much good.  Because as much as a bitch Maeve was, there was no way she could have predicted this.  No way she could have known that Aelin would be dying.

And where had Rowan been?  Off doing a damn job that didn’t even need him.

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan learned that his wife was dead.  The baby too.

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan allowed himself to cry.  Silent tears.

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan heard the snip-snip of heels across linoleum.  Echoing through the halls.

“Oh, Rowan,” she crooned. “I am so, so sorry.  You have to know I never imagined this to happen.”

“Do you know where he is?” Rowan asked.

Maeve’s brows shot in the air. “What?”

“Cairn,” Rowan repeated, “do you know where he is?”

A smile spread over Maeve’s cherry red lips. “I promise, I will help you find him.  No matter what it takes.”

It wasn’t until three o’clock in the morning that Rowan said good-bye to his wife and made one final vow to her.

He would never forget.

#

as always, thanks for reading my dears!

tags:  @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx

[penny-beee]

surprise surprise

Word count: 2.5k

Genre: fluff

Summary: you’re an idol and friends with Monsta X, who happen to move in down the hall from your apartment and your feelings for Wonho become known to him.

I had just finished my stage for the night, my ankles wanting to fall off from my legs, they carried me to my dressing room. My manager Soora stood in the middle of the room, phone in hand, ready to leave.

“Hey, let me change and then we can go.” I spoke, harshly as my voice had been heavily used throughout the long night.

“Alright, you also have a photo shoot at Vogue tomorrow, so I advise sleeping as soon as we get home.” She warned as she left the room so I could change.

I grabbed my overnight bag and took out my distressed boyfriend jeans, black turtleneck sweater and black docs. I slipped into my new clothing and threw my old stuff onto hangers for my people to come collect and wash. I put a white overcoat on my frail shoulders, picking up my purse and heading out of the cold and empty room. Soora was standing earnestly at the end of the hall, the keys to my G-Wagon in one of her palms, smiling I grabbed the keys and told her to follow me. We walked silently to the parking garage, careful of not being caught as it was just her and I walking.

Soora has been by my side since grade three, she was an exchange student from Korea and had been shy to everyone but me. We became friends quickly and have been inseparable since, I followed her to Korea for a change of scenery when I was eighteen, we had gotten our own apartment and she had started working at JYP Ent. while I was working at a school teaching English to children. She came home one day saying JYP wanted a new solo artist and she showed him a video of me singing one night to my parents. Proud of herself she talked me into going to the agency and being signed without any former training. JYP just said “with a voice that good and a talent for the piano, we don’t need training.” And here I am, six years later, driving a maroon wrapped G-Wagon, my own high rise apartment in Gangnam, and my best friend managing me everyday.

Before I could count to ten I had pulled up to my building, the tall glass windows sparkled in the moonlight, one reason I loved coming home so late. I parked in the numbered spot for me, Soora sniffled as she opened her door. We both walked in silence to the elevator, nothing new from us. We knew better than to talk when we were both exhausted from work. A hushed groan came from my lips as we entered the second to top floor. Brown boxes lined a few of the walls, new neighbors?

“Looks like we have new neighbors, wanna go say hi?” Soora offered.

“Why not, I’m sure it’s another old couple.”

Sighing, I grazed over to the opened door. Loud raps came from a speaker I could see on the window seal. A man peaked from around the corner. Ki-hyun?

“Ki-hyun? Why didn’t you tell me you were moving?” I chuckled, walking in now as if I owned his place.

“We’ve been so busy, it’s only Wonho, Minhyuk and I though. The other four are in the apartment underneath us.” He sounded out of breath when he spoke, like he had been running laps on a high school track.

“Oh. Well do you need any help unpack-“

“(Y/n) we gotta get you to bed actually. Remember the early schedule.” Soora chimed in, an awkward chuckle left her lips.

“Ah that’s right, hey, after the photo shoot tomorrow I can come help?”

“Uh, I think so. I think Minhyuk is gonna go to dinner with Jooheon and Hyunwoo, so it’ll be us and Hoseok.” Winking at the end of his dastardly sentence, I softly hit his shoulder. He knew how I felt about Hoseok, even if Hoseok himself didn’t know; it was still embarrassing.

Flashing Ki an ungrateful smile, I turned on my heel and looped my arm into Soos’. Her and I paced to my front door at the end of the hall, I punched in my four digit code and waited for the beeping to stop so the door could unlock. Swinging the wooden brick open, the moon lit up the apartment just perfectly. My wall of windows never kept me unsatisfied, Soora and I had rented the apartment together to save money.

To the left was a spacious kitchen, white marble counter tops with black cabinets sat still. A rice cooker and a fancy espresso machine being the two appliances I used most sat away from each other. A big plant took up the middle of the island, just above the stove top, and diagonal from the bar stools. As we walk in, a big grey sectional gazed out at the big city lights, a white fur rug was squished underneath, adding some texture to the solids. My favorite part was the glass coffee table, three books on Vogue Italia stacked up on the corner. A 60” tv looked down on the watcher, on the slick white wall that was just right of the couch. Down the hall to our left, sat three doors. Sooras room, her bathroom and my bedroom door. My room being to the right, opening up the white plank, a California king mattress laid on the floor in the upper corner, letting me wake up every morning to a beautiful skyline. White sheets thrown around the bed kept it relatable, a few pillows half off the bed. The back walls were all window, a few being able to open so a nice breeze could come in now and again, the two other walls that were pure masonry, held planters and a few family pictures. The wall adjacent from my master bed held a huge 72” tv, and an old white dresser my aunt had given me gave itself a home underneath the massive electronic. The last wall with the planters only kept my master bath and closet. Nothing special, my room smelled of rich perfumes and earthy plants.

I kicked off my Docs and fell onto my custom mattress. ‘Help Hoseok unpack or stay home and pretend to be sick?’ I weighed the options in my head. Hoseok debuted after I did, all of Monsta X did, so I am their sunbae, but I’m also younger, so every time I see Hoseok or Changkyun they’re extremely awkward, like they don’t know how to address me. For Hoseok I think it’s freaking adorable, but for Changkyun I think he’s just teasing me at this point, as he’s always been like an annoying older brother.

Sighing, I closed my eyes and shifted in the sheets to get comfortable. Drifting off into the world of incoherent thoughts and dreams.

The next day had passed slowly, I had been in about four outfits and four makeup looks, ranging from editorial to girl next door. Soora had gone to get me two rolls of kimbap, leaving me alone to do the interview. They questioned me on my techniques and private life, but nothing about who I am as a person, so I have them the most interesting stories and examples I could, in the end gaining their interest in my more.

“We have a deal with a few brands that we want to recommend you to, would you be up for it?” The man asked me, he had put his recorder and notebook away.

“With all due respect, I love making music and I love modeling. But I’m already so busy as it is, and I need to focus on myself at the moment, but if the offer is open at any time I would love to call you when my mind changes.” I politely declined his offer.

As much as I love modeling, I’m not just a pretty face. I have heart and character. The interview had rubbed me the wrong way, as he didn’t care about me personally and only my love life and secrets on music. So I declined.

“Alright, well here’s my card then. The issue will be in this months magazine, we’re gonna try to put you on the cover as well as a few pages for the interview.” He takes a smile and handed me his paper card.

Thanking him contently, I went to the changing room. Soora stood there with her face plastered on her phone. Stuffing her face with out of her kimbaps. “You should’ve taken it.” She sighed.

“Yeah I know but he doesn’t care about me, he cares about the money. So whatever. I’m still selling out arenas of fifty thousand almost every night.” Giggling at my random burst of confidence, I skipped to the bag that held my change of clothes. I pulled out a pair of black Nike joggers and a matching black nike sweater. To counteract I added a pair of maroon Adidas.

“Let’s go, we have to help Ki and Hoseok.” I chanted, grabbing my foil wrapped meal and bags.

“You mean ‘your-seok?” She giggles at me, standing up quickly and slapping my butt.

“Hey! Not funny, I don’t like him that much!” I shouted as I chased after her.

We had arrived at the apartment building and walked up the stairs to the seventeenth floor since we needed to work off the food we had just stuffed into our empty bellies. Again Ki-hyun left the door open, boxes still sat against the blank taupe colored walls.

“Boys?” I called out, Soora had decided to go home and take a nap so I entered alone.

“Hey! (Y/n)-ah.” Hoseok called, rushing over to give me a comforting hug. He smelled of ramen and cologne, not too surprising.

“Hi Seokie. Where’s Kiki?” I asked him, he better not have ditched on purpose.

“Oh he decided to go get food with the boys.” Hoseok gave me a gummy smile, twisting his frame ever so slightly. “He also told me a secret. I apparently have to keep it from you.” He chuckled at his candor.

“What the hell Seok! Why mention it if you can’t tell me?!” I shouted, the one thing I hated more than anything was when people started a sentence and didn’t finish it or said they had something they wanted to tell me but couldn’t. ‘Why bring it up?’

“You’ll see, it’s okay.” He smirked his left eye almost closing at his effort. “Okay, go bring in the boxes that say kitchen. You can organize the kitchen since you have good decorating skills.” He smiled, his hand lingered on my shoulder as he turned to walk away. Something was off about him.

I followed his request and squatted down for the cardboard. Both about twenty-five pounds each, luckily they were stacked on top of each other so I could easily grab them. Few beads of sweat fell down my neck, trailing under my warm sweater. I placed them on his granite island, the boxes coming up about a foot taller than me. Hoseok came out of his room shirtless, a pair of Nike workout shorts only wrapped around his torso, his hair was damp from sweat that had collected as he moved the furniture in his room. He walked with a slight waddle as he made his way to the stainless fridge, grabbing a water bottle he chugged it down.

A soft chuckle left his now damp esophagus. “Don’t stare too much (y/n) your eyes might break.”

Awkwardly, I snapped out of my trance and reached up for the highest box, bringing it down to my height. Two arms surrounded my body, vainy hands perched on the counter, I could feel his chest muscles slightly tensing. “Why didn’t you tell me you find me attractive and/or like me?” He questioned, I was frozen.

Clearing my throat, I gained some of my normal confidence and spun around, now being at an equal level to his chin. I gazed up at his brown orbs. “I’m a busy person.” Was all that came flowing out. ‘What the hell, (y/n)?!’ I internally shouted. Of all things to say, that was all that came out.

“Ah, and you think I’m not?”

“No, I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.” I shrugged halfheartedly, or.. ‘I’m too scared to start something that I know won’t be reciprocated.’ I repeated to myself.

“ What if I want to make it work and finish?” He questioned, a slight pout left his plump lips. His body came closer to mine, pinning me to the counter.

“Hey, I’m sweaty from helping..” I tried to counter argue.

No movement from him. “I don’t care, tell me you don’t want to kiss me right now and I’ll stop and we can pretend nothing happened.” His damn lips were a marketing tactic for a long ride ahead, figuratively and literally. “That’s what I thought.” And his lips met mine, as simple as that. No crazy intricate ‘fireworks’ or cheesy quotes. Just two adults making out in the kitchen.

He pulled away, his hand under my jawline, thumb pressed to my cheek. A kind and shy smile spread upon his cute face. “How long have you kept these feelings from me?” I questioned him, my hands were laid softly on his lower back. Pulling him in more, no space between our vastly different bodies.

“About three months? When you started your latest come back?” When I had come over drunk the night of my MV release and baked cookies all night.. the night I was so trashed I danced to the poppy music I grew up to and baked in his sweatshirt I found lying on the couch. The morning him and Jooheon woke up to me passed out on the couch with a plate of cookies sleeping on my stomach. “I didn’t think I would like you this much, but I’m glad it is being reciprocated. You lying there on my couch in my sweater, chocolate faced and cuddling a plate of sweets. Damn, I couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, stretching the back of his damp neck with his fingertips.

“You ate all those cookies before I even woke up..” I awkwardly laughed at his tender confession.

“Well, would you like to officially go on a date? Or just stand in this position?” He winked, knowing he was shirtless and sweaty, he grabbed my chin between his index finger and thumb and pecked my lips. “Get ready princess, I have an idea.”

And with that, three years later, here I lay, my head in the crook of my now fiancés neck. The morning sun muted from the white curtains that swayed in the breeze. We had gotten a new apartment, not as fancy as the last but definitely bigger. His muscular arms were secured around me, almost protectively so I couldn’t leave him in the middle of the night for water. His light snores and hushed speaking silenced as his eyes opened. Looking down, he saw my gaze and smiled wholeheartedly. Hugging me tighter, we laid engulfed in each other’s realities.

[musicallisto]

i’ve been shipped before, so I hope it’s okay that I’m asking for something else? ^^ can I get a marvel ship Drabble please? lyric prompt #23! I’m Jenna, bi 5’9 girl w curly brown hair and hazel eyes. I’m introverted, sarcastic, childish, antisocial, gryffindor, kind hearted, over emotional, easily flustered, and I have a dirty sense of humor. I like archery, piano, cooking, animals(mostly dogs), and singing. I’m easily jealous, hate pda, and I’m v independent and can’t stand clingy people. TY!!

⚖ Count On Me (Clint Barton x Jenna)

author notes: hope you like this! as soon as I read you like archery and you’re a Gryffindor, I immediately started getting ideas about Clint & you, I think you’d be adorable and a great match! this is more platonic tbh but it has a great deal of flirty banter and implied crush so I hope it’s okay!warnings: training (somewhat fighting?)your song: bruno mars - count on meword count: 1273 words

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One hit, two hits, three hits… all your arrows flawlessly hit the mental aims you drew in your head. In any other situation, you would’ve had a hard time refraining a triumphant grin from showing on your face as the heads of your weapons pierced the trembling, wooden planks like blades, each exactly where you had planned them, but you were forced to go into hiding in a dark, repellent building abandoned for decades in the outskirts of a rotten city, shutting yourself away like a rat in fear of being gunned down by who you had always considered family, so nothing really could’ve made you smile like before.

You remained hidden in the shadows because according to Steve, putting yourselves out there would have been too dangerous in the explosive conflict the world was in, and you were slowly feeling like you were burning up in this poor excuse for a hideaway, in the middle of dust and rodents. At least, if your allegiance to Steve and his ideals had taken away all your liberty, it hadn’t prevented you from training twice as hard as usual. Officially, you were bored and didn’t want to lose your touch at archery. In reality, it distracted you from the clusterfuck of a civil war that was building up outside those gray walls.

Teeth gritted, you reaffirmed your grip on your bow until your knuckles demanded mercy, and, blocking your mind to any oppressive thought that would linger in the dark corners of your head, you shot two more arrows that crashed right in the middle of the platforms made of timber, mangled by the midnight wind coming through the broken windows. You couldn’t believe anyone would think you were monsters, that you were threats when you had given your life to protect the needy. Those accords felt like the most disgusting display of hypocrisy you had ever seen, and your choice of rejecting them and going on the run with half of the Avengers hadn’t been a difficult one for you to make.

Even if you’d have to fight the other ones who had agreed with the terms of the contract sooner or later, but you didn’t want to worry about that already.

A sudden rustle in your back startled you, and you immediately turned to face the source of the sound, the string of your bow loose, but your fingers steady on the weapon in case you needed to defend yourself. Your arrow danced absent-mindedly between your fingers as you took careful steps towards the exit of your concreted hideaway. Steve knew better than to disturb you at night, especially when you were training; meaning it wasn’t him, and if your ears hadn’t betrayed you, then something - or someone - was lurking in the shadows, ready to strike behind your back.

“Show yourself,” you hissed sternly.

You didn’t know if there was an intruder or if it was nothing but you said better safe than sorry, especially in the tense situation Captain America’s team was plunged in.

Your steps brought you closer to the tear in the wall that was supposed to host a door… closer and closer… you were certain you had seen a shadow lurking just by the wide gate, and the coward didn’t dare to show yourself… your tensed muscles were prepared to level your bow at the intruder; shooting from a range too short would be problematic for inflicting enough damage to the intruder, but you hoped the element of surprise would be on your side and would allow you to take the upper hand.

Just a little further… you were almost the-

“Woah, don’t shoot! It’s just me! I’m on your side!” a familiar voice shakily exclaimed in a terrified attempt at saving itself.

In stunned silence, you took a few steps back as Clint’s broad figure entered your precarious training room. He looked the same as the last time you had seen him, his own bow hanging from his back, but his eyes seemed more tired than ever. He grunted something along the lines of “dammit, she really was going to shoot” while rubbing his face as though he had just woken up from an agitated slumber. You crossed your arms in disbelief, your feet fiercely on the ground, not quite understanding what your closest friend was doing here, especially since you weren’t on good terms the last time you had seen him. You, as selfish as it sounded, were quite reluctant to his departure and had accused him of running away from his problems instead of facing them. Needless to say, you had felt miserable as soon as he had decided to leave for good, and you had wanted to put your goddamn pride aside and apologize more than once. Yet you didn’t want this discussion to go on without an explanation from him.

“What are you doing here? Last thing I remember, you had retired.”

“Cap called me back,” he assured matter-of-factly, taking a few steps towards you - which you answered with more steps backwards, not wanting to give in just yet to your best friend, and long-time crush, may you add.

“And you came back?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“After what happened to that kid…” he admitted, lowering his gaze to the ground, and you felt a sudden rush of sympathy overpower you.

“You mean Quicksilver?”

“Yeah. After what happened to him… I felt like I owed it to him at least. He died for me, Jenna,” he added after a hesitation. “I couldn’t live with it.”

“So you’re here to help?” you asked, a despicable hopefulness in your voice. You didn’t want to seem desperate, but you had to admit you had really missed Clint and hoped he was there to stay.

“Yes. And… is it too soon to say that I missed you?” he admitted sheepishly, turning his gaze toward you with one of those goofy smiles of his that you had grown to love terribly.

You sighed, trying to prevent a slight smile from creeping its way on your lips. You couldn’t give Clint the satisfaction of knowing he was slowly breaking your defences.

“I missed you too, Legolas. But I thought you didn’t want to help us anymore… that you had seen too much.”

He offered you a slight smile, and that was the moment when you saw the incredible tiredness in his eyes. Suddenly, you felt a rush of affection course in your body and a swift wish to embrace him like you always did before threatened to overpower you. However, you remained calm and steady in your position.

“I’ve gone through a lot of shit because of… this,” he admitted with a vague gesture enveloping all his surroundings. “But we all have. And in the end… for you, I’d do it all again. I think you’re my best friend. And you don’t how much I’ve missed my best friend.”

You couldn’t contain your relief anymore. Seeing your best friend in one piece and ready to fight for what you had always believed in, ready to fight by your side, was all you had silently hoped for without admitting it to yourself. You smiled fondly and reduced the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly against your chest.

“Uh… Jenna? Are you okay? You’ve just willingly induced physical contact…”

“Shut up,” you laughed, gently hitting him in the shoulder as you stepped back. “I’m just… glad to have my best friend back.”

[persorene]

*pulls up to drive through window* yeah can i get uhhh cute mutual jokamu pining with a cute ending *slaps down 5 dollars*

One mutual pining fic, no angst and a side of happy ending coming right up! Please pull around to the next window._______________________________________________________________________The butler stood in the kitchen, mindlessly drying the dishes he'd just finished washing. He worked with the speed of a seasoned professional, wicking away the remaining water from their surfaces and stacking them neatly in the cabinets. His eyes were closed as he worked, listening to the delicate melody that his master was playing from the ballroom. The song was light and peaceful, with a somber, crooning undertone. It was quite like her, in a way; content but hiding pain below the surface. Her skill was impressive, she rarely played but when she did he was utterly captivated. He loved to sit and watch her as she pulled the notes from the keys, however, she was dreadfully self conscious about her music. She created most of her melodies herself and hated to have others hear them.Though always efficient, he worked twice as fast today, hoping to be able to catch a glimpse of the lovely young woman before she stopped playing. With the last dish settled into its place, he left the kitchen. Slowly and quietly he traipsed down the hall, avoiding the old wooden planks that he knew would squeak beneath his weight. He nudged one of the intricate double doors open, peering into the room. She sat her piano, red hair tucked behind her pointed ears, her long fingers dancing across the instrument. Her eyes were closed as she played, swaying to the rhythm. Her passion was intoxicating. He leaned on the door watching his master, his chest fluttering as his mind raced with thoughts of her.Her song began to wind down and he began to applaud softly. He knew she'd hate that he'd watched her, but he couldn't help it, she was as incredible as her song had been and she deserved praise."Jakob!" her cheeks burned a blazing crimson, her ruby eyes locking on to the white haired man watching her "How long have you been here!?" Her heart raced in her chest, he meant well and she knew that, but his presence alone was enough to fluster her.He smiled as he walked toward her "Two minutes maybe. Your song was lovely, milady. One of your own creation I assume?""Yes... but you know I hate when you watch me play. I'm no good at it." she turned her head away from him as she pouted, spilling her red hair down her back and shoulders."Nonsense! You're fantastic, princess. If I could play half so well I'd be thrilled. Alas, music is one pursuit that escapes my grasp." he lightly tapped one of the keys, summoning a high pitched note as he spoke.The princess twisted on her bench, turning her face up toward her butler "... I could teach you.""You needn't worry yourself over me, milady.""Oh stop that. You always teach me things, now let me show you something. Sit with me." She scooted down the bench in a very undignified manner, patting the space she'd made for him.He couldn't deny her, he'd never been able to. Jakob slid onto the wood beside her, feeling her warmth radiating toward him."Okay, first you-" she paused as she watched her own hands, trying to explain something that came so naturally to her "Okay, hold them like this." she lifted her splayed out hands toward him, giggling as he clumsily copied her."Like this?" he asked, displaying his very poor attempt to mimic her."No." she laughed "But you tried. Here, sit still." she stood quickly and moved behind him "Hold your hands over the keys."He did as instructed, barely hovering his large hands above the piano."Okay, now-" she leaned in, pressing her chest to his back and wrapping his arms around his chest. Her hands holding his, maneuvering his fingers into the correct positions. Her cheeks burned as if there were a fire beneath her skin, holding his hands in this way summoned a hundred thoughts that she knew better than to think.He was extraordinarily thankful that she couldn't see his face from this angle. His cheeks were flushed, her warmth and her body pressed into his back sent his heart racing. Even her aroma was tantalising, sweet and warm like a confection fresh from the ovens. Jakob cursed himself for not paying attention to her lesson, but how could he when she was holding him so."Think you can manage that?" She teased, drawing him from the haze of his daydream."Oh. Uhm, yes. I can" He stammered."Good!" She chimed, a brilliant smile growing across her pink tinted cheeks. The princess slid into place beside him on the bench, reveling in the sensation of his presence so near her."I'll play and then when I nod at you, just tap the note I showed you." she instructed as she lifted her dainty hands into place along the keys.Her fingers began to prance along the ivory, drawing forth a splendid array of notes and melodies. Jakob watched her, the sun glinting off her crimson eyes and flaming red hair, the gentle way she nodded at him to play the somber note she'd assigned. She was lovely and beautiful but more than that, she was pureness and kindness, a soul unmarred by the hate and anger that dwelled within him. She was his light, his savior and the woman he loved; the woman he'd die for. In these small moments with her, nothing else mattered. His mind drifted further and he wasn't sure if he was playing in time anymore, he truly would hate to disappoint her but drawing his eyes from her wasn't in his power.She could feel his gaze on her, warm and intense, stirring a fire within her. No one but him made her feel this way. He was he best friend and her butler. The classes dividing them meant nothing to her, it was wrong she knew, to think of him this way and yet she refused to stop. He was so kind and devoted, the moment she'd met him when he was only a small, frightened child, she'd felt a connection to him. In the years that had passed since, that connection had blossomed into a hidden love for the young man. She would lie, for his sake, and say he was a friend and nothing more, but she couldn't lie to herself. She loved him. She had always loved him. In her mindless state, her graceful fingers fumbled and her song snagged."I'm sorry." she whispered as she pulled her hands from the piano, twisting them nervously in her lap. Here in the dimly lit, cavernous room, only inches from her butler, she couldn't bring herself to look at him. Her heart thundered at the intimacy of it all, at the idea that her lips were only inches from his own... she could cross the distance, if she were brave enough she could kiss him."Don't apologise milady. It's quite alright, I'm afraid my playing was rather poor anyway." he said quietly. His hand rested on the bench, the tip of his small finger lay against her thigh, he knew he should pull away but he didn't want to, and she didn't object to his proximity. He couldn't think of what to say to her, he'd never had trouble speaking to her, but it was all he could do not to pour his heart out to the girl."I should get back to work. Gunter will have my head if he-"Corrin gripped his hand, closing the space between him and cutting him of with a kiss. He hesitated, he wanted this more than anything, he wanted her touch, her kiss, her affection; all of it. But he was a butler and she a princess. He was the model of proper servitude in all regards but his love for her, it was wrong, it was brazen, it was a crime. And yet, he couldn't stop himself, none of that mattered when she kissed him, when she touched him, when she looked him with those glimmering eyes as if he were the sun itself. He loved her. It took him only a moment to overcome his fear, quickly returning her kiss."I'm sorry." she whispered yet again as she pulled back from him, her face glowing as red as her eyes."Don't apologise, milady." Jakob muttered, a delighted smile lingering on his lips. He ran his fingers through her hair as he studied every minute detail of her lovely face."Can I kiss you again?" she asked so softly he'd had to strain to hear her.He leaned in slowly, cupping her chin his hand as he pressed into her soft lips "My dear, you can kiss me as often as you like." he whispered as he pulled away.