#he started greying early-ish thanks to all the stress

[trustymikh]

went through Giovanni's quotes the other day and he has a surprising amount of 'adults know better'\'you are just a kid and therefore stupid' lines, which made me think that he is somewhat sensitive about his age. Not that he misses being young, rather he feels insecure about clear signs of aging. Red called him 'old' once or something and he never recovered.

anyway Gio dyes his hair, thank you for coming to my ted talk

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[edwardelricsrightarm]

Disclosure for my mental health bc I need to acknowledge it

Ok so I've vaguely referred to the fact that I'm a system on here but I wanna be more open and less fearful of people treating me weird about it, so I thought it may be a good idea to allow my active FMA specific fictive alters an introduction because they use this blog a LOT and have generally pretended to be me bc we tend to do that out of anxiety. This blog actually started out intended to be Ed's personal, but he got anxious about it so we made it appear to be a plain old fanblog before we really had followers.

If you're unfamiliar:

Fictive alters (also known as fictive introjects) are alters based on the concept of a fictional character. They may or may not resemble their source in headspace appearance or personality. Memories of what they perceive to be their previous existence commonly differ from their source. It's good to remember that a fictive alter is a person, the character is not. Do not ever compare a fictive to their source or expect them to be exactly alike, they will not be. Also remember that people do not control the alters we form in any capacity. Treat all alters as their own individuals, fictive or otherwise!

Polyfragmented systems such as myself split very frequently and often have more alters than we know how to count, this doesn't make us fake. Hyperfixation + stress or trauma for me tends to equal a new fictive, and thusly I am fictive heavy. My autism and ADHD intersects with my DDNOS in this way.

Ed- one of my earliest formed alters, took far too long to acknowledge his existence but he's been in here in some form since childhood to my understanding

Role: trauma holder, caretaker

Headspace age: 25 ish? Not concrete but def early mid twenties

Pronouns: he/they

Misc: bi polyamorous disaster, loved Ling and Winry in equal measure

Greed- pretty new, formed bc of a rewatch during a stressful time

Role: protector/gatekeeper

Headspace age: n/a, well over 200 mentally

Pronouns: he/him, he's also nonbinary, just prefers he/him only, bi/pan/queer

Misc: grey aromantic, was in a relationship with Dolcetto, considers Ling his brother

Riza- also fairly new, formed bc of a rewatch during a stressful time

Role: protector/caretaker

Headspace age: somewhere between 27-30

Pronouns: she/they

Misc: bi, demigirl, was in love with Roy and Jean both in very different ways

Thanks for reading, please be kind. If you have nothing nice to say then simply don't, I do not have energy to deal with people gatekeeping about this shit.

We will from this point be using a tag system to distinguish who has posted what

Ed: 🦾

Greed: 😈

Riza: 🔫

If tags don't contain one of these then assume it is myself, the host (Declan) who posted.

[fandomlovingfreak]

Mrs. Weasley, Dear (10/?)

George Weasley/Reader

Sequel to You Can’t Marry A Malfoy

Word Count: 1598

Rating: E for everyone ( trigger: pregnancy )

MasterList Link I AO3 Link

Summary: After their whirlwind romance, including a Pureblood Marriage Contract with a special clause, confessions of love from both, and a quick wedding, everything seems right in their world. Domestic life seems like it was meant for them.

Notes: We could be possibly nearing the end of this series (i’ll estimate 3-5 more chapters)! Which is sad, but all good things must end eventually! I’m excited to see where my Charlie Weasley series goes, but don’t worry! I’ll have more George and even more Fred content in the near future!

Enjoy

"Do you need help?" (y/n) is currently reaching for something on the top shelf of the cabinet, her pregnant stomach making the endeavor more difficult than normal.

I hear her sigh deeply before turning towards me, "Could you get me that mug?"

Chuckling, I reach over her shoulder to snatch up the violet mug she wanted. "Here you go, darling."

(y/n) frowns, taking the ceramic from me, "thanks." She sets it down on the countertop, "I'm sort of sick of suddenly being unable to reach for things."

"Luckily, you have me." Not only am I taller than my wife, but I was able to get my body within seven inches of the countertops. I joked about it once last week and caused her to tear up, so I won't be doing that again, but it was still sort of funny. Usually, (y/n) was always a good sport with his lighthearted teasing, but he's found out pregnancy hormones and joking sometimes do not mix well. Especially the random burst of irrational anger after he made a joke about how her sweater not fitting right, and she threw a shoe at his head. It missed, but she's bound to hit her target one of these times if he's not a little bit more careful about what he teases her about.

"I would rather be able to do it alone," she pouts, sitting down at the kitchen table. The caffeine-free tea sits in front of her in the violet mug, steam steadily rising from the rim.

"Soon enough." Three-ish months to be somewhat exact, which is insane. Time goes by so fast it feels like these days. 

"Not soon enough," she takes a sip of her beverage. George admires her, the frown lines between her eyebrows, the way she refused to do anything with her hair this morning. The mornings were always spent with only him, and she knew untidy hair and all he loved her. Why put effort into something silly like made-up hair when she felt tired constantly. He rather (y/n) was comfortable than made-up. Plus, she was adorable in his oversized sweater.

"Mum wanted to know if we've chosen a name," he tries to steer her in another direction to take her mind off of her annoyance. 

"What did you say?" She asks, already fully knowing what he told his mum.

"I said no." So much for steering the conversation.

"Was she disappointed? It's not like we haven't thought about it, but I want the gender to be a surprise. Something fun in the moment after--well, everything." (y/n) rambles on nervously. She hates the idea of pain in any amount. She has disclosed this with me multiple times in the past months. Assuring her I'd be there, right beside her the entire time, could only do so much to quell her anxiety, but I honestly don't know what else to do. It kills me to see her frightened.

"I know, dear. She just wanted to get a head start on the kid's sweater. You know how mum is." 

(y/n) rolls her eyes fondly, "your mum and her sweaters..."

"Gotta pass on the tradition to the next generation." He grins at his wife, "do you need anything else before I head out?"

She taps the side of her mug with her fingernail, "Could you pick me up some of those blueberry muffins from that shop in Diagon Alley before you come home, please? The ones with the sugar on top."

George rolls his eyes, "I meant anything right now, but yes. I'll get your muffins."

"Thank you, darling." I lean down so she can kiss my cheek.

"I'll be back around five-thirty." I shrug on my coat.

"Sounds good."

I apparate to the Hogsmeade location, set on stocking up the shelves before students come into the store this weekend. McGonagall had only sent me a few messages about what the Hogwarts students were up to with Wizard Wheezes products this year. With the shop moving into Hogsmeade, the mischief had only increased. McGonagall tried to sound annoyed when she wrote, but I know she thought it was just a tad bit funny. I had to hand it to these kids; they were creative with the products I provided them with. The letter had made me proud, honestly. Fred would've loved to know we're still creating chaos years after 'graduating' from school. 

***

I finish up the inventory and balancing the books around four, letting my new employee, Carina go home early. She's proven to be a great asset to the team so far. She was a year younger than Ron and had been in Hufflepuff. Real nice girl who knew nearly everything about each product and could sell each item just as well.

Locking up the door, I apparate to Diagon Alley to take a quick peek into what Ron's doing and to, of course, get my wife the muffins she requested.

"How's it going?" I ask when I walk into the original shop.

Ron looks up from where he's talking to a young wizard.

"Good. Why are you here?" Ron asks, excusing himself from the customer.

I pull a face, "can't I check in on my own store, Ronald?"

Ron rolls his eyes, "Yes, but you rarely do these days."

"Yes, the Hogsmeade location is doing well; thank you for asking."

"That's good. I'm sure McGonagall has complained."

"Multiple times, dear brother. But, that's the purpose of this lovely establishment. Causing chaos."

"All I care about is that the testing is no longer done on me."

I put on a mischievous grin, "I wouldn't be so confident if I were you."

Ron's eyes widen comically, "have you been slipping me stuff recently?"

"Remember when you fell asleep in your soup two weeks ago, and Hermione convinced you that you were just tired?"

"You poisoned me!" 

I roll my eyes, "I was testing a product. I'm practically lining your pockets, Ronald."

He mutters something under his breath, "Can't you test your products on yourself, perhaps?"

"I have a child on the way," I cross my arms, "you don't understand the stresses of having a pregnant wife and child on the way. Besides, the woman tried to take my head off last week for making a joke about her sweater. I'm already in mortal danger with (y/n) around."

"Hopefully, next time, she'll hit her target."

"You wound me, Ronald," I grin, "anyways, if the shops all good, I have to be off. The wife needs those muffins from that place down the street."

"Armadill Confections. They close at four-thirty. You ought to head out to catch them before they close up or (y/n) probably will finish the job."

"Ha-ha. I'll see you soon, Won-Won." I snicker when he rolls his eyes at the nickname.

I catch the witch working at Aramdill's right before she starts closing up the bakery. "Hi, Sorry! By chance, do you still have any of those blueberry muffins with the sugar stuff on top? I promised I'd get my pregnant wife some--"

The witch is maybe around my mum's age with slightly greying hair and kind green eyes. She chuckles, "of course, dear. I have four leftover from today. I can wrap them up for you if you'd like?"

"Yes, please. How much do I owe you?"

"It's in the house. I have a daughter who is pregnant currently, and she loves these muffins."

I chuckle, "I can't just take them for free. I'll be back probably in the next week anyway."

"I insist. I know how it feels to crave something specifically. And like you said, you'll be back again. Please, I insist."

He feels grateful that someone would be so kind, but really, he can pay! "Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes. Next time you come in, bring your wife in. I would love for her to try some of the other things I have."

"Well, thank you. She's going to be thrilled to get an offer to try some of your other stuff. She raves about these muffins in particular." I grin. (y/n)'s going to be tickled that the shop owner wants her to come in, "I'm George Weasley by the way."

"You don't say!" The witch looks surprised, "I went to school with your parents. You look a lot like your mother's brothers."

"Mum thinks so too. Well, thank you again. Have a good night."

***

"(y/n)," I yell when I walk through the door. Setting down the brown box on the countertop, I shrug off my coat.

"Hello," (y/n) stands on her tippytoes to press a kiss to my cheek. "You got the muffins!" She opens the little pastry box, taking one of the large blueberry muffins out.

"The shop owner wants you to come in whenever you want more muffins. I guess her daughter is pregnant too, and she has some ideas on what else you might like."

"Oh?" (y/n) asks in between bites, "that's nice. That'll probably be two days from now, honestly. I can't get enough of this woman's baking. It's so good."

"Lemme have a bite," I give her my best puppy eyes.

"Fine," she hands me the last bite of the muffin.

Popping the last bit of muffin into my mouth, I chew appreciatively. "Merlin's Beard...that's quite possibly the best thing I've ever eaten."

"Right?" (y/n) nods, "I got it in my head that I needed them like last week. You have no idea how satisfied I feel right now."

I can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, "I'm sure, darling, I can't understand."

Taglist: @paigeyisme

[paradife-loft]

In the blood orange sky

Well. Does anybody remember a couple months ago when I made this post? Because apparently I’ve been thinking about it a fair bit.

And also thinking about... maybe doing a thing? A thing that involves writing various vignettes as I’m moved to, very low pressure, but all in the same continuity, about sequences of various events that are related to one another and a central premise...? So kind of maybe like a “multi-chapter fic” as they call them, but y’know. No particular goals for “finishing” something, or requiring they be in chronological order or any other strict structure binding them together. Just exploring things for fun, and I’ll see where it goes!

But yes, so, I have written a bit this week that I think does what I would like for a first portion of something like this, and... here it is!

1.4k words, Xiyao, post-canon, dark-ish mystery/intrigue/character and relationship exploration I guess?; warnings for injury and general unpleasant body stuff, and also unpleasant mental health stuff, and also discussed off-screen (mass) murder.

*

When he comes to this time, he is sitting - propped up in the gentle rays of early sun against something he can vaguely identify as soft, with enough give to cradle his shoulders. That alone is a departure from each time previous… and Jin Guangyao supposes he ought to be thankful he continues to wake up at all; that his condition upon doing so this one time at least is no longer face-down, body practically smeared into the dirt.

An unpleasant prickling in one of his legs prompts him to open his eyes again, lift his head from where it’d fallen back against a pillow. His neck throbs with the motion. He sees a pair of hands - familiar enough that the distortions between his sight now and his memories cannot help but unsettle him - moving steadily with needle and thread through a deep rent in his left calf.

Ah. That would explain that particular discomfort, then.

Viewing the sight on top of feeling the muted, distant sensation it evokes, gives him the perverse and contrarian instinct to kick out and abort the effort of cleaning him up as it’s only partway done - but he recognises well enough that it would be a waste, and even now he isn’t so far gone as that. And he doesn’t want his leg to remain ruined. And to repair it himself now would be… possible, but far more difficult.

All arguments he has to pull out in front of his mind’s eye, like a text one might recite, to convince himself not to protest this time; but he does hold himself still, does remain for the time being a silent, compliant patient.

(Not entirely still, he must admit: his eyes follow the tiny shifts in those hands, trying to reconcile the absence of both manicured care, and the unique pattern of callused ridges he had memorised once upon a time. And yet more important, more incorrect when compared to the state he is familiar with: Lan Xichen has never known how to sew.)

(And yet. And yet.)

He presses his lips together as Xichen approaches the completion of the task, drawing the words he resents needing to speak up like pitchers of water from a drying well. They crowd his tongue, sour the inside of his mouth.

"I take it you found me quickly this time, after your target was done with me?"

Lan Xichen starts when he hears his voice, head jumping up and eyes round. Jin Guangyao had not taken him to be so absorbed that he hadn't even noticed him waking, but -

(He should have, perhaps.)

Xichen's expression hardens into something resigned after that, the dam holding back a great dredged mass of displeasure. Pain and anger in a hundred or more shades, silt and loam and sand.

"You tore apart the gravesites of three prominent clans, scattering the bones, and then did the same with the bodies of their living families when they came to drive out the robbers who defiled their ancestors' remains. The entire village has been terrified since last night. The news was not difficult to follow."

Jin Guangyao resists the urge to close his eyes, staring down the spray of blood to his face with the same dispassion he once used to with regularity. He is out of practise, however: he can't stop the reflexive flinch in his mouth, or his one remaining hand. It curls stiffly in the blankets pushed to one side of the bed pallet.

It’s not that he hadn't expected something along these lines, from the moment he’d woken up and taken in his surroundings. He hadn’t particularly relished the anticipation of hearing it, and so allowed himself a few moments watching Lan Xichen work in silence before disturbing him, it’s true - but he regrets the pain and exhaustion on Xichen's face and in the set of his shoulders and limbs more than he cares to spend his sympathy on another (inevitable) group of dead strangers.

He glances down at the long column of stitches holding the greying flesh of his leg together around the bone, and wonders which hapless, doomed villager from this new feat of resentful destruction had managed to inflict the injury.

"So it didn't require all that much searching, then. Nobody was angry with you, stealing away with the corpse that had killed all those people instead of burning it?"

"Not enough to express it to me. I imagine it helped that I spent several hours in the interim helping right the disturbed graves, and set wards around several of the neighboring houses," Xichen replies. Stress still lines his eyes, flickering more prominent like a candle flame as he speaks. Reconstructing the sequence of events implied, Jin Guangyao feels a twinge of - something - surprise, or hurt? he can't quite say - that Xichen had apparently seen fit this time to seal him away and then leave him, presumably alone, for some significant time afterward, while he tended to the village. Even though it was presumably an effective distraction, not to mention well-deserved.

"I was intending on returning this afternoon, to add more wards to some of the other houses, and suppress any other spirits roused in the process,” Xichen adds. Half an afterthought, half an explanation.

The emotion, whatever it is, crystallizes into a spike of irritation. "Temporary wards aren't going to be enough to turn away a determined corpse-raiser of this strength if he has unfinished vendettas against anybody left there," replies Jin Guangyao, snappish.

Lan Xichen’s lips thin. "I would still prefer to comfort some of their fears, however unrealistically, in the time before the problem has been solved, than leave them with no help or explanation at all after such a loss."

Jin Guangyao knows this. Agrees with it, even; it had been one of many principles they shared in the nighthunts they used to investigate. If Lan Xichen is frustrated at having to reiterate such a thing to him specifically, rather than in general, it doesn't show amidst everything else on his face.

He does stand though, turning away from the bed, tucking the medical supplies he’d been using back into their pouch and going to check on an iron kettle perched over a fire.

“Where are we?” Jin Guangyao asks, preferring the abrupt change of subject to a continuation of the prior topic. Xichen glances back at him - not for long.

“The abandoned house of one of the walking corpses I suppressed a few months ago,” he replies. He pours hot water into a skin, tying it off, and then another steaming portion into a tea pot - drab by Gusu Lan standards, but still likely worth more than the entire roof they’re under. “Don’t get up on that leg yet; you’ll split it open.”

Silence clouds between them, as Jin Guangyao stops shifting his way toward the edge of the bed pallet and lets the leg stretch out in front of him, holding back his weight against his arm. His fingers itch.

He’s asked Lan Xichen before, how long he’s been living like this, although not in those terms; and Lan Xichen has responded only with obvious deflections, despite giving perfectly cogent answers to less savory questions, such as how he’s managed to take a room at an inn with a resentment-spilling corpse in tow. There are many people in need with no one else to turn to throughout the countryside. A simple glamour works well enough when neither the inkeep nor other patrons are cultivators. Spending nights at the house left abandoned after a prior nighthunt certainly sidesteps the minor inconveniences of the latter, but leaves him even less sanguine about the former.

Would you rather neither of you were here at all, and in all likelihood even more people were dead? his own mind poses snidely, while he sits and watches Lan Xichen putting the hot compress over his lower leg, manually drawing up the blood in his body toward the region. He sips the cup of medicinal brew pressed into his hands, despite strong doubt in its capacity to do anything now for him in particular.

When he can acutely feel the spiritual energy circulating through his through him - pushed by Xichen’s intent and core, urging tissue to repair itself in the same way it would in a living body - Jin Guangyao finally admits the need to push on the issue of what they both have surely understood by now.

“I need to come with when you leave,” he says. He doesn’t make it a suggestion.

Lan Xichen closes his eyes, and Jin Guangyao’s still heart seems to squeeze like a vise. Go back to Gusu! he wants to yell; fuck the villagers, and fuck whatever further bloody deaths he won’t be conscious enough to care about causing.

Lan Xichen only nods, like it pains him. “Yes. I suppose you do.”

[nandolonso]

SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS (John Wick X Reader)

("TEACHER" X STUDENT COLLEGE AU)

Pairing: John Wick x Reader (AU - ish?)

Summary: John Wick lives a different life before his "retirement". He becomes a sort of vigilante, who is taking out the bad guys. His next goal is to catch a drug dealer who mainly distributes in Y/N's college. However, after meeting Y/N, not only Y/N's life turn upside down but also John's.

Word count: 8281

Warnings: ugh, so many. But it's John Wick, so... blood, swearing, college, anxiety, panic attacks, loneliness, shyness, angst, slow-burn, age gap, smut, DIRTY SMUT, fluff. 

ALSO, IM NOT A NATIVE SPEAKER OF ENGLISH SO PLEASE FORGIVE MY MISTAKES!

Author’s note: GUYS!! I've found this fanfic deep down in my-never-posted-writings and I was re-reading it when I thought, this is just utter shit, let me post that (lol), I hate myself. 😂 I was cringing at some part, but I managed to write them over, so it is a little bit bearable. I don't know if you'll like it, but I hope you do. I wanted to post something to cheer you up in this hard time. I wish the best for all of you. ♥️ The inspiration came from some many places, but mostly from "calling teachers by their first name" videos. You'll see why I got the idea from it... After that, I've given some thought about "fake" teacher John and gosh... let me tell you, it got me hot and bothered. Also inspired by 21/22 Jump Street. Please, please, leave some feedback.

P.S.: Sadly, I don't know any Italian, so thank you for Google Translation for "sponsoring" this fic lmao.

*

This was your very last year of college. More specifically, your last semester. Thank God. You could not be happier as you thought about it. Even though you enjoyed studying, you were overwhelmed with your lectures as you were a maximalist and wanted to give 100% in everything. You enjoyed learning and finding new topics but the assignments, the presentations, and the exams stressed you out incredibly. You did not apply for any further study at least at the moment as you wanted to rest a little bit and work somewhere till you find out what you really wanted to achieve in life. 

The first week went by quite easily, as the teachers mostly talked about the syllabus and what you can expect from the rest of the semester. Thankfully, everyone seemed kind of nice except your Italian teacher and his lesson, which you took up as an optional course in the first place since you wanted to earn some extra credits. Now, it seemed like a bad decision. The teacher was old, who did not enjoy his teaching at all. It was difficult to follow and boring, not to mention that he continually talked in Italian even though it was a beginner's course. When the others tried to tell him, he became mad and gave out even more assignments for next week.

So now, that you were sitting in class and waited for him the nervousness which you felt was understandable. You were chatting with one of your classmates who sat behind you. You could not say that you had any friends. You were mostly alone in your whole life, which sometimes was a curse, while other times it was a blessing. You opened up for so many people who disappointed you and let you down that this was the safest way of living your life now. Just talk to someone if necessary, otherwise living your life as you wish. Sometimes it was really depressing as there was basically no one to talk to, you could not share any interest with someone, not your desires, your goals, nothing. Even when you did, you became the focus of mockery.

Suddenly everyone became silent as most certainly, the teacher approached into the room. However, when you turned around your last week's grumpy teacher was nowhere to be found, instead of him, you meet with a totally different man. You looked straight him into the eye as you took up his presence. He was tall, he had a skinny physique but you could certainly see that he was muscular, even though the black shirt and jeans he wore covered his entire body. He had dark, semi-long hair which was slicked back, while he also had dark stubble, which was framing his face aesthetically. Now, his dark brown eyes laid on you and it was like it burned a hole into your soul. He had some characteristic which you could not explain, but you were sure that he was attractive. Very much. And exactly your type. Not to mention that he was older than you, around his mid-30s - early 40s, which you thought was the perfect age as you were always fond of older men.

"Uhm... hey everyone" he started as he finally looked away from you to gaze at the others as well. His voice sent shivers down your spine. It was deep and husky. "I'm John Wick and I'll substitute your last teacher, who became ill. He will turn up as soon as he feels like it, but we don't know when that will happen," he stated. Maybe, the previous teacher would have been better. Now, it will be really hard to focus and now you wanted to study even more just to impress him, which is sounded insane. You immediately started to curse yourself in your head because what you did was completely silly.

"I'm not by any means an Italian teacher, but I'm fluent in Italian, as I've lived in Italy and since this is a beginner's and optional course I thought I will be just as good for this short time as Y/LT/N would have been." as he finished he clapped his palms together, facing towards the desk which now became his. "Firstly, let's start with an introduction and what your goals are, and from that on we can move with the rest of the lecture," he said and turned and pointed towards you. This gesture was unexpected for you and you immediately felt that your cheeks burned up as you tried to collect yourself. You were a great student but you were dealing with anxiety when you had to speak in front of others. Your mind and desires were totally different that you could actually manage out from yourself, and this was true in every situation.

"Uhm..." you started as you cleared your throat. "I'm Y/N and I'm a final year student here. To be honest, I don't really have many goals at the moment, because..." the way he was looking at you completely took your breath away. It was like he sees all of your secrets. "...I want to take a little bit of break from studying after I've finished. I want to work somewhere, see the word. Just those cliché things that usually everyone says." he started to chuckle and honestly, it was the best thing ever.

"Thank you, Y/N" the way your name rolled out of his tongue was beautiful. "I hope everything turns out great for you and one day you even get to Italy as well." he smiled and turned to the next person, so the magic moment you felt completely disappeared within a second. He was just nice. With everyone. He listened to everyone's word with actual interest and wished something friendly before turning to the next person. How could you think that he sees something different in you?

The course actually ended sooner than you would expect, the time flew with him. He gave you a short assignment for next week, collecting all those things you would like to talk about in Italian. On your way out you glazed at him once more, however, his eyes were glued to the paper in front of him. You left out a soft sigh as you left the room.

*

This was the first time in your college years that you really waited for a lecture but at the same time, you also dreaded from it. You could not wait to meet John again or you could say Mr. Wick, but this just fueled your fantasy about him even more. You were sitting in the front row with your classmates, whom you talked about your new teacher. They were eagerly fond of him, but not as you did. Even though they find him attractive, he was just a teacher for them. However, for you, he started to become something else. You could feel something different from him and you thought that he should not be a teacher because it was just not his field. Not that he was a bad teacher or anything, but he was not that teacher type that you could imagine. You felt something which you could not explain. You were always a curious person, and this case was like a puzzle that needed to be solved.

"Buona sera a tutti! (Good evening, everyone!)" he greeted, his eyes lingering on you. You did not want to look away, so the two of your's gaze intertwined with each other for a few seconds. You managed to smile a little bit, but at that same time, he turned away. He was just as good looking as the last time, wearing a light grey t-shirt, regular jeans, and a leather jacket. How could he be this handsome?

"Okay, let's go through those things which you like to learn about, and then we can build the lecture from there." everyone nodded as he said it, preparing their notes on what they would be interested in learning in this course. Your eyes were glued on your paper, your head tilted down trying to avoid eye contact with him when you heard your name.

"Y/N" he stated. "Let's start with you just like last time." you were quite shocked. Nobody managed to remember their students' names in the first weeks. Hell, sometimes not even at the end of the semester either. You looked up at him, seeing his face focusing on you, slightly furrowing his eyebrows in concentration.

"Ordering food..." you breathed out and you started to blame yourself immediately.

"Ordering food in Italian in a restaurant?" he helped you out, stating as it was a declarative sentence, but he shifted the tone in the end. You were grateful for his help. You nodded and he returned a smile to ease your frustration. "Nice, good idea," he said. "Let's move on."

*

The first months of the semester went by rapidly. The first two weeks was just a warm-up, but after that assignments came after assignments as so did exams and such. You could not fantasize about Mr. Wick anymore in your free time as you were loaded with anxiety to finish every task just in time. However, you always waited for the class, even though your mind wandered somewhere else. Thankfully, about two weeks spring break will come.

"You can handle your assignments on your way out. That's the end of the class. Thank you everyone." he said and at that point, you realized that you completely forgot about your essay which you should have written for today. You thought that is due next week. Well, fuck. Basically, everyone handled in their assignment, as you approached John you became very nervous. You did not really know what to say.

"Jonathan" the words fell out of your lips without thinking. You realized that what you said was rude and you just tried to make the situation better, even though your teacher's expression did not change. "John... I mean Mr. Wick." you cursed yourself, trying to get out of the situation somehow.

"Yes, Y/N?" he asked, as he was looking down at you. He was so much taller than you, the way he looked consumed your whole being.

"I'm so sorry but I forgot to write my essay for this week. I thought it was due to next week. I'm sorry." you jabbered, looking at your feet to ease your nervousness.

"It's okay, Y/N," he said calmly. "You can handle it next week as well." when you looked up at him he was slightly smiling. That damn smirk made butterflies in your stomach, causing your heart rate to quicken.

"Really?" you asked back. "No punishments?" without thinking, the question just rolled out of your tongue.

He turned his head a little bit, trying to hide his ever-growing smile.

"Would you like to?" you started to blush at his deep voice, thinking about something inappropriate when he clearly was just talking about the assignment.

"No..." you answered. "Not for an essay, no." you just started to make everything worse. You wished that the ground would swallow you on the spot.

"Periodt then," he said to ease the tension a little bit. "Or whatever slang you use these days." You genuinely started to laugh, and it was really good after a long time. Nobody made you laugh these days and it was really nice to talk to someone besides listening to lectures all the time.

"Wow, I'm impressed" it was just absurd to hear this word from his mouth. But you really felt this way.

"My goal is accomplished than" was all he answered. Was he flirting with you? You just wished that. But the whole situation was just weird. Just the way you felt like before. He is not in the right place, something is off with him. You learned these few signals over the years just to protect yourself, still, something keeps attracted you to him.

"I'll try to write it as soon as I can and bring you in your office hours." you smiled shyly.

"It's okay, Y/N, don't worry about it" he smiled back and that smile made you go crazy. You turned your back to him to leave the room. You were standing in the door when you suddenly turned back towards him once again. He was still watching you.

"Thank you, Mr. Wick," you said, waiting for no answer when he said:

"You can call me Jonathan or John. Whichever you like." you were just standing there, completely in shock. This never happened to you before. None of your previous teachers of yours allowed to call them on their first name. To be honest, you did not even try but with John, it just slipped out. You did not know what to say so you just nodded, leaving him standing there watching after you.

*

The rest of the week was awful. You could not wait for the weekend when you could rest a little bit. You were extremely overwhelmed with work and it seemed that nothing wants to work out for you. It was Friday morning, thankfully you did not have any classes left so you finally could work on your assignment for Mr. Wick. You meant, Jonathan. Thinking about him and the way he said that you can call him on his first name made your heart beat faster. Since that day you could not stop thinking about him, which is why everything became harder than it should have been.

It was around 11 in the morning, but you already did a lot of work. You went to the store, then you cooked something for you for the weekend, you cleaned the house as well as doing the laundry. Your roommate was not home, as usual. Since she got that boyfriend of hers, they always spent the time together. At least, you were alone and nobody could bother you. You always did the house chores anyway, as she not usually cleaned up. After everything fallen from your hands and you basically had to clean up twice, the last task was taking out the trash. You somehow managed to take all of her and your trash into three bags. You were already on your way out when you realized that something from one of the bags was leaking. You started to become really angry and mad. At the edge of crying and breaking something, to say the least. You tried to hold back yourself together, taking a deep breath and hoping that the bag will hold on till you reached the bin in front of the street. As it was mentioned before, this was not your day.

Half of the stuff fallen on the ground just when you dumped the rest of it into the trash.

"FUCK" you cried out, hitting the top of the trash and also kicking into it to release those pressure which started to build up in you.

"Y/N" you heard a deep voice behind you. When you turned around you realized that John was there. Who probably watched the previous scene when you freaked out. What was he doing here? "You need any help?"

"Mr. Wick" you started but he interrupted you.

"John."

"Yes, John." you started. "This isn't my day. Could you please wait here as I get another bag?" you asked. You could just said that everything was fine and he could go on his day. But no. Because you did not want him to leave, even though you had no idea what was he doing here.

"Don't worry, I got some," he said while reaching for a plastic bag from his pockets. You lifted your eyebrow while he handed one to you as well as ripping one for himself. "I have a dog, so..." he said, while the two of you collected the rest of the trash. Well, this was not romantic at all. Your cheeks started to burn as you felt the situation kind of humiliating.

"What kind of dog you have?" you asked, trying to pick up the stuff as fast as you could.

"A blue English Staffordshire Bull Terrier" he breathed out when the two of you finally dumped away the rest of the trash.

"Oh, those are really nice dogs even though everyone seems to be afraid of them" you started the conversation and you could swear that his eyes lit up at your compliment.

"Oh, totally. They are super nice when they are raised well," he said smiling. "There are no bad dogs just bad owners." you just nodded, did not know what to say. A few seconds passed by just looking at each other, none of you said anything or moved.

"I should get..." he started, but at the same time, you started as well.

"Would you like a coffee or something in return?" you asked.

"Yeah, sure" he breathed but turned away from you to his car. Which you only realized just now. "Can I park here?" he asked as he gesticulated towards his Mustang. Your jaw just dropped.

"Wow. She's beautiful," you said coming closer to his car. You did not realize what you did until you actually did it. You reached out to touch the roof and at the same time approach John incredibly close. You just recognized that you did not answer his previous question. "And yes, I think you can park here but I'm not sure though."

He said nothing, just looking at you and monitoring every movement you made. He appreciated how your eyes were shining with excitement. Your fingertips which caressed his car so gently. Your hair, which slightly fallen into your face, framing it beautifully. You took his breath away.

"Would you like to try it out?" you did not really comprehend his question, as you were still focusing on his car. When the question finally hit you, you turned towards him with furrowed eyebrows.

"Is this allowed?" you asked. At this moment you wanted nothing more than him taking you out for a ride.

"Why wouldn't be allowed?" he asked back, kind of confused.

"Because you're my teacher." you simply answered back. At that moment you could swear that the smile frozen to his lips, like the reality hit him or something. Something was off. Just like you suspected before. "If you're a teacher at all," you added carefully.

"Who else would I be?" the confidence which was radiating from him started to slowly fade away. He was nervous, you could see that.

"I don't know, you just not seem to be a teacher type of guy." you started. "You don't look like it... and, surely, teachers cannot afford cars like this." you pointed towards his engine. In that second, he moved closer to you, which is why the air stuck in your throat. You looked up at him, his eyes were dark with some emotion which you could not read. You have not seen this side of him yet.

"Maybe, I got it as a gift" his voice comes through your fast heartbeat which was throbbing in your ear.

"I doubt it" you had no idea where this bravery was coming from, even you were surprised. Before he could manage to say something his phone started to ring. He pulled away from you to answer it.

"I'll be there," he said shortly, hanging up the phone. "Sorry, Y/N. I have to go." he was fast. Before you could realize he already got into his car. "Maybe next time," he added, and before you could realize he was already on his way leaving you on the sidewalk alone.

*

The next time you meet him was after his Italian class. You did not attend class, but you managed to arrive at the end of the session to give your essay to him. He was looking good as always, wearing dark clothes highlighting every muscle on his bare skin which was not covered.

"I'm sorry John that I couldn't come for today's class, but I had some family issues" you breathed out which was kind of true. You had family issues, anxiety issues, university issues, and just issues of issues. On top of that, you got a lot of anxiety attacks lately, which did not help you at all. Your hands were shaking as you handed your essay to him. "I know I said that I can manage to finish earlier but I couldn't," you added and he did not say a word. He did not even look at you as he took away the essay. You were heartbroken.

As he did not say anything else you just left the room completely taken aback, trying to suppress the tears which you could feel that going to burst out. When you arrived in the hallway, it was harder and harder to suppress it. You quickly went to the bathroom and when you closed the door behind you everything just came out. All of those tensions were building inside up you. Those feelings which constantly taken up your mind. That you're never good enough, that you have no one to rely on, not even a friend, not family. Nobody. You had nothing and no one. Besides that, you were constantly under stress because of the university. You wanted to perform as the best version of yourself, but you just could not hold back anymore.

After the tears came out and your breathing became a little bit better you went to the basin to wash your face with cold water and to make yourself a little bit more presentable as you still had class. You took a deep breath and got out to the next lesson. Everyone was waiting at the door as the room was not open yet. At this moment, one of your classmates who was kind of nice to you touched your arm.

"Hey, Y/N" she started. "Are you okay?" she asked.

Even though you appreciated her question, you did not know what to say.

"Yeah, sure. Why?" you lied, but it was enough for her to completely change the topic.

"Will you come to the party next week?"

"I don't know" you started. "I haven't really thought about it." as soon as you finished one of the other classmates of yours spoken up.

"She doesn't know because he is waiting for John. I mean, Mr. Wick," he said, bursting out into laughter. You did not know how he found out but your cheeks started to burn up.

"What did you just say?" you asked back, almost shouting at him when you heard the others whispering.

"Oh shit, here he comes," said one of them. When you turned back John was standing next to you. You were sure that he heard the whole conversation. When he looked at you his eyes stuck at your red ones. You were sure that he knew that you were crying. Even though the cold water helped, you still looked like a mess.

"Is there a problem?" he asked using his deep, "discipline" teacher voice. His voice was dangerously low, which sent a shiver down your spine and a feeling to your core which you tried not to think about.

"Not at all" smiled back the douchebag who started everything in the first place. John lightly grabbed your arm, turning his whole body towards you.

"Y/N, can we talk?" he whispered, but the others still managed to figure out the situation. As you answered, they started to chuckle, but at that point, you could not care less as John guided towards his office.

When there were just the two of you, he looked at you with concern on his face.

"Is everything all right, Y/N?" he asked but you just could not look at him. Your eyes were fixated on your shoes. Why would he care? He did not even look at you half an hour ago. You did not answer. You did not know what to say. He was your teacher. You could not tell him your problems even though you wanted to. "Y/N?" he asked again.

This time you looked up at him. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, waiting for your answer.

"I'm fine, thank you, Mr. Wick" you stressed his last name. A sudden expression went through his face which you could not read. "Why would you care, you're just a teacher anyway," you said without thinking of the consequences as you stormed out of his office.  

*

The last week before spring break went quite quickly even though you felt like a zombie. You did not attend your class with John, even though you desperately wanted to. You just skipped that class, while you were attending the others. You were hiding in the hallway, trying to avoid anyone. Just arriving at the beginning of the course and coming out as soon as you could. In this way, you could survive university. Now, thankfully you had a free week when you could charge up your battery and just rest a little. Your mind wandered at the party which your classmate mentioned to you, wondering if John would be there. A few teachers had to be there, because it was a university party and they were still responsible for you somehow.

You really wanted to go. To dance, to drink and to forget all of your problems.

That is why you were standing in front of your mirror trying to soothe imaginary creases on your black dress. You kept finding mistakes on yourself, about your makeup, about your hair. But at the same time, you kept reminding yourself that this is just a party and the main goal is that you should enjoy the night without constantly thinking bullshit about yourself.

This is what you kept saying in your head on your way to the party. The place was already buzzing with music and people's voices, radiating a certain kind of heat as well. As you step inside, you were already washed away by the crowd, seeing people who you never saw before.

As you looked around you saw a giant plaque that said that it was a retro vs. modern age night. All night, songs from the 80/90s were played, after that came a piece of current music and the whole mass went insane. Everybody moved as a whole in perfect sync swaying to the rhythm of the music. Sadly, you could see that a lot of people were high and drunk, which you could never do, but you still wanted to dance. You just started to move your body alone, when your all-time a favorite song started to play from the speakers.

Sweet dreams are made of this

Who am I to disagree?

I travel the world

And the seven seas,

Everybody's looking for something

At that point, your eyes stuck at a dark figure which you could recognize even in your dreams. John Wick was standing there, looking at you. He was wearing a full black suit with his hair slicked back. You were constantly gazing at him. Even though you wanted him to be here the whole situation was absurd and unbelievable. However, he still managed to surprise you all the time.

Some of them want to use you

Some of them want to get used by you

Some of them want to abuse you

Some of them want to be abused.

Looking at him and listening to these lines hit you. Hit you really hard. As you looked at him, all of your desires and hidden fantasies started to take over your body. Your nasty hidden feelings. All of those things which you could never share with anyone. You wanted to be used, you wanted to be abused. But you wanted these in a good way. You wanted this as a thing, where the two of you want this not just you. You wanted to be safe, you wanted to feel appreciated, you wanted to feel special, you wanted to be WANTED. You wanted a man, who makes you feel things you never felt before. Who does things to you and touches you like you never experienced before. Maybe, just the daddy issues were speaking from you but looking at John you could feel that he could fulfill all of your wishes and desires. Not to mention that he would be there for you as a friend, as a lover, even as a soulmate. And as someone, who just genuinely cares about you. At least, you hoped so. But it could never happen because he was just a teacher and you were just a silly student.

However, the way he was looking at you consumed your whole being. You did not know what happened to you but you started to sensually move your hips, turning your back to him to kind of show him what he can get.

After a few seconds, you felt a muscular, hard chest pushing against your body.

"Mind if I join?" a deep voice asked and you could recognize this tone everywhere. You did not even answer as you did not have to. You just turned back towards him, getting as close as possible. He was even more handsome up close, taking your breath away.

"Is this allowed?" you shouted, but it sounded like a whisper in the crowd.

He pulled you closer to him, resting his hands on your waist and tilting his head down to bury his face into your hair.

"I don't even care anymore" he answered, his breath caressing your ear as well as the side of your neck. This sent a shiver down your spine, causing your thighs to rub together to ease the sensation which was building in your core deep down. He could feel that your body tense up between his palms, but he kept you steady with his strong and firm hands.

"What does that mean?" he looked up at you, with some expression on your face which you could not read. He wanted to tell you something, you could see that but something changed as he looked at your side.

"Stay here," he said and suddenly his touch disappeared causing you to shiver as he was not there anymore.

You could barely react, but you still managed to see where he went to. Without thinking, you started to follow him.

 You looked at him everywhere when you find him outside the field of the campus. To be honest, you could barely see him but you could hear him grunting and... fighting? He was the last man standing with someone else, besides them, there were laying bodies. You could never dream of being a situation like this. You did not know what to do. You were completely frozen and could not move. Your panic started to take over your mind and you could barely manage your breathing.

"John" suddenly you cried out. He immediately looked at you, which the opponent took as a chance and hit him right in the gut. He sunk into his knees, while the other man started to approach you.

"Y/N run," he said but you could not even lift your finger. You could see as the other man was getting closer and closer to you when John grabbed him from behind and started to choke him. The other man started to run out of the air and suddenly collapsed into John's arms. John did not even think twice, he dropped the enemy onto the ground. Before you could realize, John grabbed your arm, dragging you across the field into the parking lot where you saw his car.

"Get in the car!" he ushered you, but you could barely move. You were completely frozen which was insane thinking that your body was on fire just a few minutes ago.

"Why?" you managed to push this word out of you when he started to yell.

"Get in the fucking car!" he said and that predatory look on his face with some bruises and blood made him look like a totally different person. You got in the car, slowly breathing out that air that you did not know you were holding. He started the engine and drive at a very high speed toward somewhere which you could not recognize.

"Where are you taking me?" your throat was dry. It was hard to speak, but this was the only sentence which you dared to ask after minutes.

"Home. To me," he answered shortly.

"Why?" you whispered but he could hear it. After minutes, you finally looked at him. He was holding the wheel so damn strong that his knuckles went white. He was angry, you could see that. His whole expression changed as he was not looking at you, just fixating his eyes on the road.

"Because you fucking messed up your goddamn life" to hear him swearing made you sense that you are truly in deep trouble.

"What did I do?" you asked softly and suddenly all of his muscles started to loosen up at your tone.

"I was taking out a gang when you just showed up, risking your whole life just to look after me." he started.

"So you..." you started softly as you could feel that the ice between the two of you started to melt. "You're not a teacher." was all you managed to say.

"God no," he answered, and before you could realize you started to laugh. It came from the bottom of your heart. He looked at you the first time, furrowing his brows. "It's not funny, Y/N.," he said and before you could stop yourself the following words just slip out of your mouth:

"Thank God, 'cause ever since I saw you I've kept telling myself that I can't fall for a teacher" as soon as you said it your cheek started to burn. He looked at you with piercing eyes.

"I'm not a teacher, but I'm way worse," he said in a dangerously low voice. And thinking back to those guys around him finally hit you.

"Who are you?" you whispered. He looked back at the road as he could not bear to see your expression when he told you the truth.

"I'm a ..." he started, but he did not want to say assassin. Because that was just too much the handle. "I'm the one who takes out the bad guys." you nodded, did not know what to do with this information. You have always known that there is something wrong with him, but you could not explain why. Now, this was the reason and you wished that you did not know. Still, you fell for him even more.

"Did you kill them?" you asked.

"No." he answered back. "I didn't have my gun." suddenly you felt that breathing becomes heavier.

"Have you killed someone?" you barely dared to ask this question but the heavy silence which felt on you told more than words.

 You did not say a word until he finally stopped at his garage. His house was beautiful, so big that it was unbelievable that it only belonged to him.

"Wow..." you whispered and he smiled.

"Y/N" he started and you turned towards him. "I'm sorry that I disappointed you. I just wanted to protect you. You'll stay here until I finish this business and make sure that no one harms you. After that, you're free to go." you did not know what to say. You wanted to say something, but you could not. Your mind wandered somewhere else, constantly thinking about what the two of you talked about in the car. You told him about your feelings and he did not even say anything. "I have a room for you here," he said and ushered you to a room, leaving you alone.

*

You could barely get some sleep. Your mind was constantly thinking about John and his life. How dangerously he lived and how he managed to keep his camouflage at the university. Honestly, you even cried that night as well. You did not know what to do and how to react, even though you wanted him. Your mind could not be silenced after you saw him in action and what he did you still thought about his arms, his hands, and his body as he pulled you closer to him at the party. Not to mention that you felt his goddamn intoxicating perfume in his whole house as well as in the sheets.

After being up all evening, you woke up late in the afternoon. It was already 5 when you looked at the clock on the nightstand on your left. You left out a sigh, focusing on sounds. But you could not hear any. You slowly got up and opened to the door.

“John?” you cried out but no answers came. Instead of that, you heard something which was running towards you. Then you saw John’s dog. “Oh my God, you’re so cute” you kneeled to the ground to pet the dog which was in its early months. It was still small, but you could see the strong, robust figure which started to form underneath its skin. “Where were you last night?” you asked as if the dog could answer you. However, after petting and talking to it all of your stress and doubts left the mind.

You went to the kitchen, where on the counter you found a note. It was written by John and he had beautiful handwriting.

“Make yourself at home.” was all it said. Straightforward. Just like John.

 After taking a shower and finding a long t-shirt in John’s wardrobe you finally sat down onto the sofa when the front door opened. John came in, the dog immediately cheered him licking and panting all over him. You watched the scene with a smile on your face. After John returned the same excitement as the dog, he finally looked at you. You were wearing one of his t-shirts. And that was it.

“What are you wearing?” he demanded. You stood up immediately, trying to explain yourself.

“You said that make yourself at home, so I’ve showered and searched for something to wear because the dress was really uncomfortable,” you said quickly. John left out a soft “oh” as he could have thought about this in the first place. Even though he did not want to admit, but he really liked the way it looked on you.

“Everything is clear now,” he stated simply. “I’m taking you home. Are you ready?” he asked and you were just standing there as if your legs got stuck into the ground.

“You don’t want to talk about it?” you started carefully, hinting to your previous unfinished conversation last night as well how he “cleared everything up”.

“No.” was all he said which felt like ripping and turning up your insides. You just nodded, turning away to suppress all of your emotions. That’s it. All of your fantasies about this man ended. He did not want to do anything with you. This was just business after all. And he finished it.

“I’m grabbing my stuff” you whispered, your throat was dry you could barely speak.

 After collecting your dress and purse you were standing in front of him again. “Take me home,” you said firmly when his form started to loosen up.

“Y/N” he followed you as you were heading into the garage. His beautiful car was there, standing next to another one.

“Just take me home.” was all you said before he grabbed your wrist, pulling back to him and pushing his lips against yours. The kiss was not a soft one. It was passionate and hard. It took a few milliseconds to react, but gosh… it was desperate. From the two of you. Teeth clicked, tongues rolled against each other as the two of you started to express which words could not. He was cupping one of your cheeks, pushing you closer to him as much as he could. Your hands started to explore his body, caressing the soft material of his suit. You could feel as he started to harden beneath your touch, basically… everywhere. Just like in a second, which made you even more insane. He wanted you so much, he could barely hold himself back. He was rucking up your shirt with his other hand, grabbing your waist strongly which sent goosebumps all over your body. His touch was just like you imagined. No… it was even better. It took a side of you which you did not even know you had.

You could feel that you started to wet your panties even though he did not even touch you there yet. He was now kissing you a little bit softer but still passionately, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. You started to moan as it did whole new sensations to your body which you never experienced before. He lifted you up from the ground before you could realize, to make you sit on the hood of his car. At that exact moment, you hooked your legs around his legs, pulling him closer to you. It was insane how the two of you moved in sync. It was like a perfect dance and choreography, even though you have not done this before to the other. But still, it was like you found a long lost piece from yourself. And he felt the same. The two of you did not stop kissing until his hands reached up to your neck, softly squeezing it to make out a moan from you which you could not even stop. John immediately stopped looking at you with concern on his face.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly looking at your neck if he caused any injuries. He did not even know what he has done until you moaned.

“Gosh no,” you started to laugh and blush. “It just… felt really good.” his eyes lit up with lust. It became even darker than it already was. He was looking at you, constantly holding his gaze when he reached again to your neck. He squeezed it a little bit harder this time, but it was even better. Your eyes rolled back as your core started to throb with desire.

“Fuck, Y/N” he breathed at the sight. “You’re making me insane.” was all he said before sinking to his knees. He pulled you closer to him, making you lay on the edge of his car. He looked so good kneeling between your thighs. And he looked even better when he started to stroke your clit through your underwear. He sharply sucked the air just by the sight of it.

You were laying on his car in your black lace panties. This was even better than he could ever dream for. He was holding himself back, but he was about to burst out.

“You look so good,” he said as he pushed your panties to the side to insert one finger slowly into you. You laid back all the way on his car as he started to finger your inside with one hand and your clit with his other one. You bite your lip to hold your moans back, but it was a really difficult thing to do. As he was so freaking good with his hand. You could barely hold yourself back when suddenly he pulled his finger out of you. Before you could realize, your panties were on the floor, and John grabbed your thighs to draw you closer to him. Now, he used his tongue instead of his fingers to play with your wetness, causing you to arch your back pushing your backside closer to his face. He grabbed your ass firmly with his hands, he wanted to control and drive you insane. He could not let you chase for your own pleasure. He wanted to make your pleasure. He wanted to make you lose your mind. He wanted you to scream his name.

He was flicking his tongue, constantly changing position between your clit and inside thing, delving his tongue deeper and deeper. You were moaning, making sounds, saying his name with some curse words as well. You were right. He truly made you feel things that you never felt before.

Suddenly, your most intense orgasm ever washed over you out of nothing, clenching all over John’s hands and tongue as he was still fucking you mercilessly with it to help over your after wave. Your hands were still grabbing his hair, rocking your hips against his face.

“Jonathan,” you said after a few seconds when he stood up, looking at you laying on his car finally satisfied. You sit up to push a soft kiss against his lips, which on you could feel your juices. Which caused you to be even hornier. As it was possible.

“I love when you say my name” he chuckled which made your stomach flop from happiness. “That is why I can’t wait to hear you screaming it,” he added with a dangerously low voice.

“Can I ask you something, Jonathan?” you said carefully, pulling him closer to you.

“Anything, doll” he answered.

“Then, fuck me” you whispered shyly. You did not know where this bravery was from, but John truly made you feel things that you never felt before.

“You don’t even have to ask,” he said as you started to undress him. His expensive suit and tie dropped onto the floor and the same time he removed the t-shirt and bra which you were still wearing as well.

He took your whole body in and admired every sight of it.

“You’re beautiful,” he said before pressing another urgent kiss to your lips. He grabbed your hair, making you moan into his mouth at how good all of this felt. At that exact moment, he thrust into you and your whole world rocked. He stretched you all the way up, cause you to cry out his name louder than you anticipated.

“Tell me if it hurts” he added and you couldn’t form a single word because the pleasure mixed with all the pain, caused to build your second orgasm and he was restlessly fucking you. You were a moaning mess, so is he. He was grunting and cursing as the two of you started to reach climax.

“Ah, fuck-“you cried out as your walls started to clench. “Let me cum, Mr. Wick” you added and you could actually feel that Jonathan is twitching inside of you. He suddenly stopped and grabbed your neck, ushering you to look at him.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“Which part?” you asked shyly, thinking that it was a mistake and you’ve ruined everything.

“All of it.”

“Let me cum, Mr. Wick,” you looked straight into his eyes when you said it. The fact that you’re biting your bottom lip didn’t help him at all.

“Gosh…” he huffed and continued to mercilessly pound into you, deeper and deeper each time. You were overwhelmed with the new sensations and your whole-body shake, when the second, but most intense orgasm of the night hit you. John was approaching his own climax as well, every thrust of his became a little bit sloppier and out of pace. He kissed you so softly, when he reached his own pleasure, moaning into your mouth which sent a vibration down to your body. You tensed your legs around his waist, taking him in more while lying down on the top of his car.

“I’m sorry we made a mess,” you whispered and he started to chuckle.

“Don’t worry about that, especially that we’re only getting started,” he said in a dangerously low voice. And oh boy, he was right…

*

This is it. It was the end of suffering. End of your university years. As for now. You couldn’t be happier as you’ve left the building and saw a beautiful mustang parked on the driveway. It was from John Wick. You were quite surprised as he said that he has to leave the town for some… business. You didn’t expect him to be back this soon. Now, you’re smile grew even bigger.

“Here is my graduated girl,” he smiled at you and pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips when you got next to him. You gave him a half-hug in this position, laughing into his shoulders.

“I did it.”

“Yes, you did,” he said, looking straight into your eyes now. He took out an envelope from his jacket. “I brought you this,” he said softly, and you were surprised.

“John, you shouldn’t…” but he cut you off.

“Just open it!” and you did. You carefully ripped off the edges taking out two flight tickets to Italy. Tears started to gather in your eyes.

“John…” you started but you didn’t even know how to begin. He also became emotional, as he looked at you.

“At our first Italian class, you’ve said that you want to see the world. I hope this will be a good start.” you didn’t know how you got a man like John, but it was more than you deserved.

“I love you, John,” you breathed out and this was the first time you’ve actually said this. He looked at you and his whole expression changed, suddenly his body tensed up. You suddenly became afraid that you said something wrong. Maybe it was too soon. Maybe…

“I love you too, Y/N,” he said finally and he pressed a kiss into your lips which told more than words. This was just the beginning. The very beginning of your life and also the adventure, which you continued with John Wick till the very end.

[ayellowcurtain]

could you write something where elu communicates and we finally are back to thinking they’re going strong

Lucas goes to a lot of parties, at least one almost every day of every weekend. But he would trade any party ever for nights at home, with Eliott. 

There’s nothing he loves more than to be with Eliott. 

But, obviously, he can’t force anyone to be around him if they don’t want to. He should have learned that lesson years ago, with his dad. And Eliott has work too. He works ridiculous hours, Lucas thinks. Spending most of his weekdays nights alone is one of the things Lucas hates the most. 

Sometimes, Yann can probably sense that Lucas is inside his head, overthinking things. Lucas tries to play it cool, to make jokes like he normally would, but Yann is looking at him and there’s no escaping a conversation. 

Ever since Lucas came out, Yann is always the one checking on him even if he feels even the smallest hint that something is wrong with Lucas. 

Lucas sighs annoyingly as Yann insists on talking, on knowing what’s wrong that Lucas is so quiet these days.

“Yeah, ok. I’m needy okay? What can I do?  Trust me, I try not to be, but sometimes it happens.” 

He tries to explain like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t bother him, but Lucas’ voice breaks in the middle and he knows Yann heard it just by the way Yann looks at him, even more attentively now.

“Hey, Luc. Don’t apologize. We all know very well how needy you are, especially about Eliott. And there’s nothing wrong in that, stop thinking everything you do or think or feel is wrong.” Yann puts his hand on the back of Lucas’ neck, kissing his temple. Lucas swallows down his tears, nodding his head. He would like to thank Yann for always being so sweet - Lucas can’t remember the last time Yann called him Luc, he used a lot when they were kids - but he doesn’t want to cry in front of Yann again. 

So he stays quiet and lets Yann walk him home. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can stay until Eliott gets home...” 

“No, relax...It’s okay. I’m just gonna eat something and watch some movie...” 

Yann smiles softly and nods his head. Lucas hugs him as tightly as he can, smiling when they walk back to opposite sides. 

“Enjoy your party.” 

“I’ll try. Call me if you need anything.” 

Lucas waits and watches Yann walk away, not in a rush to get inside his empty house again. 

He hears some of his neighboors inside their homes, talking to someone, some playing music, but when he gets to his door, everything is completely silent inside. Lucas sighs, opening the door, dropping his bag on the floor already. 

The door gets closed behind him and the light turns on, his boyfriend right there, locking the door, just inches away from Lucas, smiling one of those bright smiles he has. 

“You scared me! Why...are you home?” 

“I wanted to be with you!” 

“I’m glad, but...” Eliott lifts his eyebrows, now standing as close as he can be to Lucas, looking down at him, “that’s not how...work relationships work, you know that, right?”

Eliott laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“I know, Lucas. But I missed you and I wanted some time for us, so I asked for some days off and I got it!” His big, always gentle and warm hands come to Lucas’ neck, resting his palms against Lucas’ shoulders, his fingertips quietly going up and down his neck and Lucas has to hold himself up because his knees are starting to feel weak.

“Really? How many days?” 

“Three. On a row.” Lucas smiles, closing his eyes, trying to control his heart, beating so fast and happy inside his chest. “I thought you needed a break and I wanted to be here, with you. After so many fucking stressful weeks that I caused you. Now I can give you three days locked inside with me. Lucky you!” 

“Fuck, you have no idea.” Lucas sighs and Eliott’s hands hold his neck tighter, massaging the back. Eliott comes closer, resting his forehead against Lucas’. 

“I do, actually. Because that’s all I want: to be with you, for as much time as I can.” 

“I’m always here.” 

“I know. I love you.�� Eliott whispers, distracted by their noses, quietly slidding the tip of his nose against Lucas’ nose. Lucas sighs, relaxing, putting his hand up where Eliott’s forehead meets his hair line, keeping his hair out of his eyes. Lucas wants to see Eliott’s green, grey-ish eyes, how focused he can get sometimes, looking at Lucas. 

He would be lying if he said - or thought - he doesn’t like the attention, because that’s all he ever wants. Eliott’s love, attention on him. He doesn’t need anything else, but knowing his boyfriend, Lucas assumes he has big plans for the next few says. 

“So...are we just going to stand here for the three days?” Eliott finally looks up, meeting Lucas’ gaze with his intense eyes that can go so soft, so fast. 

“We could, but no.” He smiles and his eyes almost close and Lucas smiles, wanting to kiss him so badly. “I have plans for us.” 

“Can you tell me about these plans?” 

“For tonight we’re just going to relax. Take a shower together and go to bed early, lie down, kiss for hours, talk about any and everything you want.” Lucas sighs again, already feeling relaxed and happier just thinking about it. “I wanna know everything about you, all over again.” 

“Well, that’s not fair. Because I want you to tell me about you too. So maybe I say something and you say something and we’ll go like that.” 

Eliott sighs and smiles softer, finally brushing his lips against Lucas’. 

“We can definetely do that.” 

[winchester-purgatory]

Summary: Sam finally proposes to Jess

Written For: @spnchristmasbingo

Square Field: Christmas proposal

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Jessica Moore

Word Count: 1703

Warnings: None needed 

The alarm went off, blaring and beeping, echoing in their bedroom, stirring Sam from his sleep. He groaned, but didn’t move, still tired.

He and Jess had gone to bed late last night due to an office party at the law firm where he interns. It was kinda boring, most employees being in their forties and up, but Jess was there to make it better - and report about the two employees she caught having a drunken affair on her way to the bathroom. He even had managed to win one of the prizes of the night, a bottle of expensive whiskey, which he'll give to Dean as an additional Christmas present, not being a whiskey drinker.

As tempting as it was to hit snooze, he already hit it two times which meant it was around 10 o'clock.

''Make it stop,'' Jess sleepily complained from behind him, facing the opposite side of the alarm clock. She tried to tug at the comforter in hopes to hide underneath and block the loud noise, but it was hogged by Sam's weight, being a blanket hogger. ‘’Sam!’’

Forcing his eyes open, he reached out to turn the alarm off, making them both sigh in relief. This alarm might do a good job at waking them from a deep sleep, but its sound is damn annoying when it’s a day off.

Sam rolled over and kissed her shoulder tenderly, wrapping his arms around her, not ready to leave the bed yet. The blonde hummed, leaning into her lover's touch. ‘’Five more minutes,’’ she mumbled, eyes still closed.

A chuckle rumbled from Sam’s chest. Okay. Five more minutes.

‘’I’m so glad we got out of hosting the Christmas dinner - again. No need to wake up early and stress with the food or setting everything up,’’ Jess declared, feeling very cosy.

''This apartment is way too small for a Christmas gathering anyway. Where would the guests sit? We don't even have a proper dinner table.''

‘’We could put Cas and Charlie in the living room and Dean and Claudia on the balcony. The patio set should still be there,'' Jess suggested with amusement.

‘’I can already hear him complaining about the snow falling into his beer or that his ass is starting to feel numb from sitting on the metal chairs in the cold.’’ Sam chuckled, imagining the scene perfectly. ‘’It’s better at Dean’s place. He always gets way too drunk and I wouldn’t see Claudia hauling him in the car and to their house. He'd crush her with his dead weight.’’

Although they've been living together for four years, slow mornings like this were rare. Morning where they could sleep in, be lazy in bed and cuddle. They always had to rush to get to class or work - and sometimes even on the weekend on Jess' end, a perk of being a nurse.

Whenever it would happen, they liked to cherish every minute and sometimes even have breakfast in bed. It was a guilty pleasure.

Not today though, as ringtone went off, blaring through the bedroom.

''Ugh, it's mine.'' Jess detached herself from Sam to grab her phone on the right nightstand, checking at the caller ID. ''It's my mother,'' she announced with mild annoyance, a picture of her and her mom at her 40th birthday taking the whole screen as it kept ringing.

Their laughter was cut short when a ringtone went off, blaring through the bedroom.

''Ugh, it's mine.'' Jess detached herself from Sam to grab her phone on the right nightstand, checking at the caller ID. ''It's my mother,'' she announced with mild annoyance, a picture of her and her mom at her 50th birthday taking the whole screen as it kept ringing.

That interruption was the signal that morning cuddles were officially over and they should get started with their day. ‘’I’ll go shower while you talk to her.’’ Sam got up, fetching some clean clothes from the top of the dresser.

''I'll join you if you finish before you,'' Jess said with a smile and a wink before answering her phone. ''Hi, Mom, how's the preparations going? Has Dad started early on the eggnog again?''

Sam looked down and smiled. How did he get so lucky?

.

When Sam returned to the bedroom, Jess was finished with her call. She had opened the curtains and snow was falling outside, dusting a light coat of white in the streets.

She pouted, seeing him half dressed with a towel over his hair. ‘’Already? I was about to join you.’’

''Sorry... How's your mom?'' he asked while dry toweling his hair.

''She's doing good. She's pretty disappointed we won't be joining them for Christmas this year - again. Plane tickets are just so expensive during this time of the year and, no offense babe, but your car wouldn't last the trip.''

Sam chuckled, throwing the towel in the laundry basket. ''It's okay. I know it's crap. Dean reminds me every single time he sees my car and its damaged bumper.''

''She wishes us a jolly christmas eve...and not-so-subtly asked if she has a wedding to plan.'' Jess huffed a laugh, still hearing the echoes of her mother wondering how they weren't engaged after being together for five years. ''At least she didn't ask if I was pregnant.''

''Maybe she does.''

''What? Sam, I’m not pregnant. I’d know if I were-’’

‘’No! Not that.’’ He shook his head. ‘’The part about planning a wedding.’’

‘’I think you skipped a step here: we need to be engaged first.’’

‘’Let’s do it now.’’

‘’Sam-’’

‘’I'm dead serious, Jess! I've been thinking about it for a couple months already. I even got a ring...''

Jess' eyebrows pulled into a confused frown, trying to process all this new information. ''What?'' she asked, eyes rapidly filling with various emotions.

Sam stood and went to their closet, fetching the old box filled with memories from his years at college from the back, and pulled out the blue velvet box where the ring was perfectly resting. He opened the small box and stared at the dainty, simple band with diamond in the middle and nodded. It's time.

His palms were getting sweaty as he returned to the bed, feeling nervous. He wasn't nervous about Jess possibly saying no. He knew she'd say yes, she already made that clear. It's just that Jess deserved the best and Sam wanted the proposal to be perfect. He was afraid of messing up and getting his on-the-moment speech wrong.

Sensing his nervosity, Jess took his hand and tugged him back on the bed. She looked up at him and smiled, sparkles of joy already in her eyes even though he hadn't popped the question and she hadn't seen the ring yet. The beaming look on her face told him this was the rightest thing he'll ever do. He was gonna marry this girl.

''Jess. Since I got that ring, I kept practicing how to present the question and trying to find the right way to propose, the right moment, but I think this is it.’’

10 o’clock on Christmas Eve morning wasn’t your typical ‘perfect’ proposal, but Sam didn’t want to wait anymore. Dean had suggested he’d do it tonight at his place, but Sam didn’t like the idea of a crowd - even his closest friends and brother - watching them. He liked privacy and, what’s more private than between your four bedroom walls? 

‘’This might sound cheesy and overused in proposal speeches, but I wouldn't be who I am today without you. When we met, I was in a bad place. I had gotten into a really bad fight with my father about my future and moved all the way to california to follow my dream. I was miserable and lonely, but there you were in that diner, golden curls and sparkling blue eyes, serving coffee to pay off your tuition. I came to this diner every day for weeks although I was short on money solely so I could see you.'' Sam paused, realizing how stalker-ish his behaviour sounded. ''Unlike the guy at table seven, I wasn't there to ogle your body in your waitress uniform. I was there for the bright smile on your face and to hear your laugh because it was the only thing that would brighten my dark grey sky.''

The blonde reached out and squeezed Sam's hand, remembering the tough times. Freedom hadn’t tasted sweet the first couple months. It was very dark and lonely and difficult on every end. Sam had been long tormented by his past, always thinking about his brother and father he left behind, the absence of support from them.

‘’I remember when I first brought you to my dorm. Collin couldn’t believe I caught a girl like you, so...out of my league. The nerd doesn’t get the hot girl in our world,’’ he said in an attempt to make a joke. ‘’It’s been the two of us since college. Can it be the two of us forever now? You pull me out of my comfort zone and make me do things I would never do on my own without forcing me into anything. You motivate me when my hopes are down, you make me smile when I feel down, make me feel special when I feel alone and misunderstood. You were my home when I had no home to go to. You’re the first girl I loved.’’

There had been girls before Jess. Amy Pond when he was twelve. It didn’t last long, barely over a month, but it still counted. Penelope Svenson, the girl from the café in his hometown. They never went past the first date. She was too self-centered for him. And Rachel Nave, his prom date, who hooked up with his brother on prom night. Thanks Dean. 

Looking back, those relationships were insignificant. 

‘’Remember the night I reserved us a table at this fancy restaurant? I had been saving for weeks to take you there on our anniversary, But when the day came, I couldn’t get myself out of bed and had to cancel. You showed up to my dorm, all dressed up and excited for our date. I felt so bad. I thought you'd be upset and slam the door on your way out, but you just smiled and said we'd go another time. You even stayed in my dorm and we cuddled and watched movies on my busted laptop. That’s when I knew you were the one for me.''

A small frown creased on the blonde’s forehead, remembering that night in Sam’s crusty dorm perfectly. ‘’Sam, that was over four years ago.’’

He looked down and nodded. ‘’I know. You stayed when others would’ve left and that meant a lot to me. It showed me you weren’t only with me for the good and that I could be fully myself with you - no holding back.’’ Sam paused, the velvet box feeling warm and kinda sticky in his clammy hands. ''Jessica Lee Moore, will you marry me?’’

[daydreamingfics]

When We Collide - Chapter One

Word Count:  2,535 

Chapters Released: 1 - Masterlist

Warnings: Slow Burn (this story won’t be going from 0-100. Hopefully, ya’ll won’t find it to be a complete snooze-fest. Other than that, this chapter really just introduces characters. There may be a swear word or two, but that’s it. 

Authors Note: This is the first piece that I’ve written in a very long time, and though I’m nervous about releasing it into the world... I’m also very excited to share this little story that I’ve concocted in my head. I have so many stories that I think up and never post out of fear, and I decided that it ends now. I’m also slowly getting back into second-person style writing as it’s not my favorite, so any feedback on how I can improve is much appreciated! I hope that ya’ll enjoy this story!

*This story is inspired by the song ‘When We Collide’ by Jon Foreman. I would definitely recommend giving the song a listen. Thank you so much for checking out this story! 

Ten-minutes into the trek back to Downtown Los Angeles you started seeing signs for Paradise Cove. You had never ventured out to this particular beach mainly because you never really had a reason to be in Malibu, to begin with. But after seeing numerous signs for the location, you decided that a quick pit-stop was worth making time for. Plus, after the shit show morning that you had- the last thing you were in the mood for was the hours of editing that awaited you back in the office. With the exit rapidly approaching, you looked over at your videographer, Reggie, who was operating the wheel.

“Hey Reg, do you mind dropping me off up here at Paradise Cove? I just need a minute to breathe before we attempt to salvage any useful material out of the interview footage.’

Taking a quick glance from the road over to you, Reggie let out a chuckle in understanding. Reggie was an older gentleman, most-likely early fifties, but he’d holler out that he didn’t feel a day over thirty if you were to ask him. The topic of Reggie’s age was often a running joke throughout the office, as no one but the man in question knew of his real age. He had a heart of gold and years of experience in the business. You were thrilled when the two of you had been paired-up for assignments. If there was anything that you didn’t entirely understand or if an interviewee got a little cross with you, Reggie, always had your back. Over time, the two of you had developed a sort of father-daughter type of relationship. Having grown up in a single-mother household, Reggie indeed was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Need me to stick around the area to pick you back up after a while?” Reggie questioned, knocking you out of the momentary daydream that you had fallen into.

Shaking your head, you sent Reggie a small smile. “No, you can go ahead back to the office. I don’t want to keep you. I won’t be long, though, wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun editing ahead of us. I’ll just get an Uber back.” Once the shoreline came into view, you knew that you had made the right decision. It's as if the day's stress was already melting away.

”Here, take this for your ride back. And call me if you need anything.” Reggie voiced as he held out a twenty.

”Reg, I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I may not get any worthwhile assignments, but I do still get a paycheck.” you laughed.

”You know that I won't take no for an answer, Y/N, so just take it.” Reggie replied while placing the crumpled bill into your hand. ”Now go, enjoy yourself! Be safe. Don't talk to strangers! And be home before the street lights come on. It's all types of crazies out in Malibu!”

”Yes, dad. I got it. I got it! Don't worry.” you snickered dramatically as you sent Reggie a wave while exiting the vehicle.

Paradise Cove was precisely that, a picturesque beach situated just off of the Pacific Coast Highway with towering sandstone cliffs that made it feel as if you were in a whole other world. Given that it was a Tuesday afternoon, the beach was virtually vacant, which was precisely what you had desired. You needed a few moments to decompress and rid some of the clutter that had taken up residence inside of your head. Slipping out of your patent leather pumps, you relished in the warmth that surrounded your toes as you took your first steps onto the golden sand. Your hometown was a small coastal community so, naturally, you were a sea lover by heart. It saddened you that in the year and a half since moving out to California, you could count on one hand how many times you got to have a beach day. Making a mental note to work on actually having a life outside of the office, you gathered your shoes in one hand and followed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore until you were right where the land and sea meet. Tilting your head towards the infinite blue sky, you inhaled the salty air and allowed the warm breeze to cascade all around you. Nothing but the sound of the waves and the seagulls screeching as you shut your eyes and lived in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as you walked along the pristine shoreline. Nearly an hour had passed since Reggie dropped you off, yet you couldn't get enough. Every way you veered, your eyes discovered something new. A few more people had wandered out by this point, yet the calmness remained. You watched as children created sandcastles, and splashed to their heart's content in the majestic blue waters. Not wanting to wander too deep into the unknown, you decided to turn around and go back the way you came. It was then that your eyes landed on him. You didn't recall seeing him previously, so you figured that he couldn't have been sat there long. He looked to be about your age with grey, almost silver-hued hair that was fashioned in an odd cut. In all honesty, the style would likely look hideous on anyone else, but he pulled it off. From your view, you also happened to notice that he had a multitude of piercings adorning his ears, and some type of slit going through one eyebrow it appeared. Again, you thought of just how unflattering that would look on anyone else. Yet, here, this guy was making it work. Really making it work. You contemplated getting closer to where he sat, maybe even striking up a conversation, but what would you even say. ’Nice weather we’re having?’

Aside from that, the fact that he was alone was a good indication that he had come out here with intentions similar to your own. For peace or quite, perhaps, both. He appeared to be rooted in thought and clearly focused on what he was doing. A notebook was his primary focal point, and you watched as he scribbled word after word inside of the book. He seemed to be on a roll, and the last thing you wanted was to be some random chick disturbing his focus. So, you decided that you’d just continue to admire from afar until you passed him. No harm in just looking, right? As long as you kept it discrete and didn't give off any grade-A creeper vibes, it’d be fine. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that, for some reason, this complete stranger felt familiar to you. He had this aura about him, and you racked your brain trying to place his face but kept coming up blank. As your feet drew you closer to where he sat, you struggled to fix your eyes on something else. Anything else. But, nothing quite caught your attention like him. Deciding that you had about one more quick look left before you would appear completely stalker-ish, you glimpsed back at the boy one final time, only this time he was gazing right back with a knowing smile.

You completely stopped moving at the sight as if somehow standing still would make you invisible, but no. Red leaked into your cheeks as you nervously mirrored his captivating smile, and even braved casting a small wave in this direction, to which he thankfully returned. How embarrassing would it have been if he were looking at someone else? You mused as your mind became momentarily distracted, thinking up all types of worse case scenarios. Peering over at the boy once more, you were shocked to see that he had shifted his positioning slightly and made just enough space on the beach towel for one more. For the second time in mere minutes,  the two of you locked eyes as he motioned for you to come and join him. Were you really going to just waltz on over and sit near a man that you knew absolutely nothing about? Yes, that was precisely what you were going to do. The image of Reggie giving you his ‘don’t talk to strangers’ lecture replayed in your head on a loop as you made your way over to the boy. You cautiously sat down beside the stranger, attempting to keep as much distance in-between the two of you as possible, which proved to be no small feat considering that the beach towel was intended for one. You could feel the awkward level rising as neither of you spoke a word, just sat there staring at each other with matching smiles and curious features.

“I’m Hongjoong.” he finally voiced after a few more seconds of silence. The sound of his voice was even better than you had thought it would be. You could sense that English wasn’t his native tongue, but at that moment, you could have sworn that the boy had invented the entire English language all by himself. 

“I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you uttered nervously. Being this close to him was making you feel all mushy inside, and it was taking every fiber in your being to keep your shit together. The last thing you wanted was to create a complete fool of yourself.

After the initial awkwardness had worn off, the conversation between the two of you flowed seamlessly. Hongjoong was so animated and passionate with his words, and you quickly found yourself hanging onto every single one. Though you hadn’t known the man for long, you had already reached one conclusion, he was magnificent. You opened up and shared parts of yourself that had been locked away for years with Hongjoong because, for some reason, you felt as if you’d known him your entire life. He assured you that the feeling was mutual as you both revealed more than you probably should have considering you’d just met. Hongjoong had even let you in on why he had chosen to spend his day off at the beach, stating that he was in search of inspiration. Though the two of you never discussed your careers, you did discover that the notebook you’d seen him writing in were lyrics that he had composed. He briefly mentioned that his reasoning for being in the US was for business, so you just assumed that he was a songwriter or something along those lines. The sound of your phone ringing interrupted your conversation with Hongjoong, and you cast an apologetic look his way as you searched your purse for the device. 

[ 1 Missed Call - Reg (Papa Bear) ]

“Wow, the time. Have we really been talking for over two hours? My co-worker probably thinks that I got swept away at sea by now.” you giggled.

The comment elicited a chorus of cackles from Hongjoong, and it was at that moment you realized just how much you adored his laugh.

“I can’t believe it either. Time goes fast when you’re in the best company!” Hongjoong proclaimed while pulling out his own device and checking the time.

“I was wondering if-” he started but then stopped just as quickly with his eyebrows furrowing slightly. You could sense that he was perhaps anxious about something, but you weren’t sure what it could be. He laughed somewhat and subtly scratched the back of his neck with one hand while outstretching his other that contained his cell phone to you. Oh, that explains the sudden rush of nervousness. You knew that you wanted to see Hongjoong again, but you didn’t want to be the one who initiated the whole number exchange, so you were more than thrilled that he went for it. With an even more full grin, you grabbed the device and handed over yours so that he could do the same. The minute your device was back in your hands, it started ringing again. You were seriously going to blast Reggie later on for cockblocking you not once, but twice. Not wanting your time with Hongjoong to come to an end you ignored the call and slipped your phone back into your purse, Reggie was going to have to wait for a little longer. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes were already fixed on you. A few moments of silence passed, but unlike the beginning of your conversation, this silence was comfortable. When your phone began blaring once again, you knew that, unfortunately, you would have to leave and rejoin the real world. Sitting along the shore with the wind in your hair conversing with the most attractive man you’d ever encountered, felt like a dream. One that you never wanted to wake up from. The look in his eyes mimicked your own, and you prayed to all the gods that this wouldn’t be the end of your story with Hongjoong. 

“That’s work that keeps calling... I was meant to be back awhile ago, but I- I honestly didn’t want this moment to end. Thank you for this Hongjoong, it’s just what I needed. I’ve enjoyed getting to know snippets about you.” you expressed. The vibrant smile that etched its way upon his features let you know that your words were well received and reciprocated.

“No, thank you. Y/N. I came here hoping for inspiration, and now I have more than I could imagine. All because of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sit and talk with someone about all different things. Things that I don’t usually share.” Hongjoong cooed as he cautiously reached for your hand and lifted it up to his lips. He then proceeded to place a feather-light kiss upon the back of your hand, all while never breaking eye contact. This man was going to ruin you, and you were completely okay with that.  

“I have a hectic schedule coming up, but I will call, okay? I’ll find the time.” Hongjoong expressed while pulling you in for an embrace. You weren’t expecting the hug but welcomed it gladly as you wrapped your arms around his frame and simply just took pleasure in the final moments that you two would share until the next time. God, you hoped for the next time to come sooner rather than later. You simply nodded along as he spoke the words directly into your ear and squeezed you a little tighter as his tongue rolled over each syllable. You knew from past experiences how daft it was to put so much faith in a man, especially one that you had just met, but the words didn’t seem contrived or untrue coming from Hongjoong. He said he’d call, and you believed him. 

Even if all you and Hongjoong were meant to have was this moment, the memory of being in his arms and the incredibly unexpected yet unusual time that the two of you had shared would never leave you. 

[no-hetsplanation-for-aa]

it’s really hard to tell what edgeworth’s true hair color is supposed to be due to inconsistencies in canon portrayals

his early appearances, and honestly in MOST in-game sprites they depict his hair as a light to dark gray (depending on which color you consider the true midtone):

but recently, the anime has been showing his hair as a dark-ish brown color?? which would also make a lot of sense as far as a natural color goes. however, in the first season it was also a dark gray color?? like look at this:

????

i like to headcanon that he’s just been graying from stress for a very long time, and brown is his natural hue but another explanation could be that it started off gray and capcom changed later iterations of edgeworth to a more brown/brownish-grey color, but even this falls flat, as dd edgeworth has gray hair and earlier official art of edgeworth sometimes has him with brown hair:

there’s no real conclusion of this post i just wanted to share this odd detail with you all, thanks for coming to my......mess lmao

[yminie]

adjustment (m) | jung hoseok

source: x

pairing: Hoseok x Reader genre/warnings: smut, fluff, chiropractor!hoseok, patient!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, rough-ish, oral sex (recieving) words: 7138 summary: At Kim-Jung Chiropractics, they meet your every need, and today it's not just your back that needs aligning.

a/n: I promise it's not a cheesy porno :’)

You can’t help but let out a pained gasp as you climb from your car, the twisting of your lower back with just one foot on the pavement triggering a momentary stab of agony at the base of your spine. The area had been tender all week, the sudden sharpness kicking in only every now and then but immobilising you regardless, and you were completely fed up.

It was a god send that you’d managed to slot in a last minute appointment at Kim-Jung Chiropractic, and with it being a Friday afternoon you were even just thankful you’d made it in time - leaving work a little early had paid off for you to miss the hometime rush.

Leaning up and out, you finally straighten yourself with a sigh, groaning as you reach back in and over to the passenger seat to grab your handbag before shutting your door and locking it firmly. Walking into the office feels somewhat strange, unfamiliar, and you think back to the one time prior that you’d been in; before the renovation.

It wasn’t much different, still bright white, clean walls, but the new carpet was a nice touch and the armchairs had been reupholstered to a much more comfortable looking soft leather rather than the plastic they’d had before.

The pretty girl behind the desk smiles brightly when you approach and promptly asks for your name and appointment time, typing quickly in her computer before guiding you to sit for a mere two minute wait on Dr Kim's current appointment.

You muse over the idea that you’re the last appointment of the day, given the complete absence of any other patients in the waiting room, and you can’t quite tell if it’s more or less awkward being completely on your own with just the receptionist for silent company.

Almost ready to start up a conversation on the weather, you jump at the sudden appearance of the young, handsome grey-haired Dr Kim, a loosely fitting white shirt under a blue knitted vest that it's just a little too early in the season to be wearing. He flits through his office door and skips to the front desk to flip through some paperwork, and gives you a brief grin when he lifts his gaze.

“Your next appointment is here Dr Kim.” The receptionist barely pauses in her keyboard tapping to inform him, the clinic phone ringing loudly and she jumps up to answer it straight away.

“Yes, I thought so, how are you Miss…” He glances down momentarily before smiling even wider, “_____?”

“Fine thank you.” He still looks busy, so you don’t bother to stand, and he murmurs quietly to the girl to his left when she places the phone back in it’s cradle, asking for her to photocopy some forms before rounding the desk once more and pausing just outside his door.

“Very good! I’m running horribly overtime, sorry. If you’re in a rush you can check with Irene if any other doctors are free, I fear this may take at least another fifteen minutes.” He bids you a gentle wave with a regretful smile before he’s gone again, door clicking shut behind him, and you pause a moment before turning back to the receptionist once more.

She’s already looking at you, slightly more sheepish than she was before, and you shrug gently. “I don’t mind who I see, it’s fine.” Nodding, she lifts the phone back to her ear and speed dials, only a moment passing before whoever is on the other line seems to answer.

“Ah! Dr Jung, yes are you free?” She hums at his answer and skillfully types into her laptop while he speaks. “Mr Kim’s-no, Kim Taehyung- his final appointment is on a fifteen minute overtime wait, can you squeeze her in before you leave today at all?” She grins widely and giggles at whatever joke he must make, eyes meeting yours for her to squint them into crescent moons of amusement. “Okay, thank you, I’ll send her right in!”

Thank god.

You wince pitifully when just the motion of standing from the squishy cushion twinges in your lower back, and follow her guiding arm to a door just down the short hallway, left slightly open and the quick chattering of computer keys echoing from the little room. You hesitantly lift a closed fist to knock softly on the door, wood moving a little under the gentle pressure, and you jump again when a low voice welcomes you inside.

“Come right on in!” You’re so not prepared.

Dr Jung is stunning, and you would’ve thought dark red hair would not suit a maroon shirt but hey, he proves you so, so wrong. He doesn’t look like the kind of man you would find in a doctors office, much more likely to be in a magazine modelling with the likes of that jawline. He’s focused, the concentration pulling his eyebrows together slightly but doing nothing to take away from the blatant friendliness, and his honey skin glows when he finally lifts his gaze and grins widely.

“Hi! Shut the door behind you - take a seat!” You do as he says quickly, the megawatt smile making you need to focus twice as hard on not tripping over your own feet as you shuffle to the chair beside his desk against the wall, meeting his outstretched hand with your own. “Nice to meet you! Dr Jung Hoseok, what was your name?”

His forearms, slightly veiny and skin creamy soft, are completely exposed with his maroon shirt sleeves pushed up, and you fall into a trance as he gently massages the muscles and tendons, preparing himself for this session. “U-uh, _____, nice to meet you too.”

You blush as you stutter, lashes fluttering as you drag your gaze from his rubbing fingers and fixing them on the spine diagram poster behind his head, and if he notices your flustered expression, he doesn’t let it show.

“Alrighty, _____. Irene is just faxing through your record and paperwork but while she does that, why don’t you fill me in on why you’re here today?” He leans towards you, elbows resting against his knees, and watches you intently with a gentle smile.

“Well, I’ve been having this really sharp pain in my lower back, and it’s almost paralysing. It’s instantaneous and it only happens every now and then or when I move a particular way so it catches me off guard a lot.” He nods, eyebrows pulling together as you talk and only frees your eyes from his stare when a ding comes through his computer and the printer buzzes out a couple pages.

“Is there a lingering ache? Like perhaps a pinched nerve?” He divides his attention between you and the paperwork, but still listens carefully, and you fidget in your seat at how closely he seems to be watching your body.

“Well, I originally thought maybe it was my sciatic nerve, but the pain isn’t in my hip or leg or anything, really just the middle of my lower back.” You wave your hands around the side of your hip as you describe, and flush yet again as he follows each of your movements. Why are you getting so flustered over him?

“You seem a bit young for sciatica, Miss _____.” He playfully teases, eyes crinkling as he chuckles and your cheeks burn hotter again. “You were in previously? For…?”

“Oh yes, I saw Dr Kim after I dislocated my knee... maybe two years back? The joint kept resting wrong and he adjusted it a couple times before it came good.” He nods earnestly, eyes grazing over the paperwork before he shuffles forward in his wheelie chair.

“Alright, well I’ll check your back alignment and range of motion now and then we’ll see what we can do about this pain, okay?” You release a shaky breath as quietly as you can, standing and following him to the adjustment bed. For a moment there, you’d forgotten that he was actually going to be touching you, but now you can’t stop thinking about it.

“Lay face down for me?” Oh, god, here we go brain. You hum an affirmative, shrugging your cardigan from your shoulders and ditching it with your handbag on the chair and quickly doing as he’d asked, chest flat against the table. He mumbles quietly to himself as he moves down to your feet first, and you try not to jump when warm, gentle fingers grip your ankle. “Mind if I slip your sneakers off? Just so I can see the proper alignment in your feet?”

“O-Oh, sure.” His fingers are nimble, fast, and your shoes are nudged off to the side in seconds, and he gently holds your feet side by side, pushing them up to bend your knees and check a new angle before letting them rest back down again. You can feel yourself heating up under his warm hands, not being able to see him only adding to your stress, and suddenly you remember the bright red g-string you’d chosen to wear under your yoga leggings - oh god, they’re not see-through are they?

“So where abouts is the pain when it comes in your back?” He steps around to your right side and places one hand on the table close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his fingers, but you keep your face nestle into the gap even as you lift an arm to show him.

“Like right down here.” It’s -essentially- your ass, right next to your tailbone, but he’s not shy to replace your fingers the instant you let your arm fall again, and he pats your back when he notices that you’d jumped at his touch. Kill me now.

“Right in your sacrum?” Sure fingers press on either side of the bone there, slightly kneading the flesh right where the curve of your back turns into butt, and you blush furiously. “Your tailbone, sorry?”

“Y-Yeah.” He pokes around for a moment, fingers inspecting your lower back and tailbone, before shuffling further down the table and gripping your shin, right below your knee.

“Let’s just test your range of motion, lift this leg as high as you comfortably can? Don’t lift your hips.” He holds your right leg up gently with his left hand, the other firmly leaving an imprint on your right hip, and you take a deep breath as you will your face to stop burning, the back of your neck and palms becoming clammy. “Any pain here?”

“Not at all.” He hums in response, lowering your leg for a moment and then lifting it again, pulling it towards himself slightly in mid air and repeating the question. No pain, but you can definitely feeling the stretch in your upper thigh - you really need to work out more.

“Okay, other leg?” He repeats the entire process, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your lower back to feel the way those muscles move with the movement, but again you feel no pain and he mumbles to himself for a moment before tapping the back of your thigh gently. “Okay, sit up for me for a sec.”

Pushing yourself up, you twist carefully and land your backside on the table, blushing at the way you’re somewhat out of breath because you know it’s not from the effort. He smiles at you sweetly, and for a moment you’re terrified to almost see a knowing glance at the exposed section of your chest, reddened with exertion, but he quickly moves along.

“Twist your back slowly for me? To the right? Good. Left side? Anything?” You shake your head and he reaches for your hands, and you wipe them quickly on your pants before his fingers wrap around your wrists and hold you steady. “Lean towards me?”

God he smells amazing. You do as asked, accepting his hands as rests while you lean out and you’re careful not to lean too close to his chest, unfortunately not missing the waft of delicious cologne that lingers on the stunning maroon shirt he’s wearing, and this close to his face you can see the golden flecks in his irises - before you embarrassedly drop your gaze.

“Hm, hold onto the table?” He guides your hands into the space between your parted thighs, and you’re awfully thankful for the hair that covers your face. Walking around the table quickly, he gently runs his hands down your back and encourages you to stretch forward once more, this time getting a proper feel on the muscles on your back.

“Oh!” he nudges a ticklish spot on your side and your knee jerk reaction is to squeak a giggle and grab his hand, and he chuckles warmly, close enough that you can feel his breath on your shoulder, and he playfully pokes the spot again, surprising you.

“Sorry.” He’s still laughing when he steps back, rounding the table to come face to face with you again and he waits for you to lift your shy eyes to his before he speaks. “From what I can feel, it’s your lumbar vertebrae that are a little off, so; your lower back. I can align them and your sacroiliac joint, and then I’ll check your thoracic, upper back, for any misalignment okay?”

You nod and he guides you down to lay on your right side facing him, firm hands moving and placing you and making your blood boil in the best of ways. You’re internally scolding yourself for becoming so worked up when he hooks his hand beneath your left knee, pulling the bent leg to the edge of the table before stepping over it and holding it in place between his two firm thighs, and you immediately squeeze your eyes as you muffle a gasp.

“This is gonna get a really good stretch on your lower back and really get into that joint. Okay? Cross your arms over your chest and twist back to your left that way?” He’s still guiding you, pressing your left shoulder towards the table behind you before slotting his warm right hand against your lower back and gently feeling for the joint.

“This is where I’m going to be adding pressure, right over your L5 vertebrae.” He’s directly massaging the muscles that had been aching all week and you bite your lip at the momentary pleasure to stop yourself from sighing in delight, but you rush to release it when you spot his sly grin - fuck, he noticed.

Having never had an upper body adjustment you weren’t expecting him to get so close and you cant help the way you automatically try to shift away as he leans down towards you, but he holds you in place and pauses hovered over you. He looks carefully over your expression and backs off a little, hands still firm, “Everything okay?” You nod, and he leans slightly closer, still watching your face. “Am I making you uncomfortable? I need to use my body weight to adjust this joint.”

“N-No! It’s fine, really I just…” Taking a deep breath, you settle into place in his hold and shake your head. “Just not used to it.” Brushing it off with a chuckle, you nod at him and he waits a moment longer, not missing the way your cheeks have reddened again, and he continues with a small smile.

“Okay, slow now, deep breath for me?” you inhale, trying to focus on a dot on the ceiling instead of the feeling of your chest brushing his. “And exhale?”

You’re too focused.

“_____?”

“Sorry?” You jump, eyes back on his and you’re mortified as he dips his head to the side to bark out a laugh, and you can’t help the pout that finds its way onto your lips at his amusement at your expense.

“Apologies,” He clears his throat, chest pressed against you still vibrating slightly as he holds back his chuckles and he turns back to connect your gazes again. “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh, that was just too cute.” God damn it!

He adjusts his hold on you once more, thighs firmly clamped around yours, and you force yourself to pay attention regardless of how flustered his proximity is making you. What’s the bet your clothes will smell like his cologne after this?

“Breathe in.” You do, and he locks his hold. “And out.”

In a mere second, he’s pressed you down with his body weight and he holds you steady once the joint clicks into place, fingers pressing hard into your back to keep you in place and you cry out at the sudden release of pressure that shoots right up your spine and down your legs, tingling in the muscles.

“Not a cry of pain I hope?” He massages you gently, releasing your thigh from between his and briefly rubbing the circulation back into the limb while you simply shake your head, laying still as a corpse and still recovering from the slight surprise. “We’ll do the other side now?”

“Okay.” Your voice is a little shaky, and you carefully roll onto your left side before clearing your throat, following the same mental instructions to position yourself like last time, and he smiles at your efforts, pulling you closer towards himself at the edge of the table and hooking your leg through his again.

“Okay, breathe in.” You take a deep breath, calming yourself slightly, but then you make the mistake of locking eyes with him as he leans close. “Good girl. Exhale.”

You squeak at the next crack of your joint, eyes wide and fluttering at his words and body instantly tense even as he gently rubs your leg and back to restore circulation, and you drop your gaze to the wall when he releases your eyes and steps away. “All good?”

“Y-yeah.” He hums, and scribbles something on his paperwork before crossing back towards you.

“Okay, flat on your back now.” You roll onto your back with a slight groan, shaking your legs as they tingle with pins and needles. “Numb anywhere?”

“My legs are a little.” He nods, hands automatically grabbing your thighs and firmly massaging them to ease the tingles, all the while you’re staring up at the ceiling with your cheeks on fire. What had he called you?

“That’s pretty normal, it’ll pass in no time. We’ll quickly get your thoracic done and then I’ll recheck your alignment.” He releases your thighs but moves to your waist instead and straightens you how he wants with a hand on either hip, a secret smile curling his lips.

“Now from what I felt there’s a misalignment on your L2 and L3 joints, but they’re super easy. Cross your arms across your chest -really far- yes perfect.” He pats your hands where they’re clamped on either shoulder and leans in close yet again, only this time he’s not tilted to the side as much, and you can feel his breath on your neck. You just hope the goose bumps aren’t as obvious as they feel.

“This is gonna be fast okay?” At your nod, and presses his chest against you and lifts the arch of your back with his right hand, tucking his other under your back from where he is at your left and making a fist right below and between your shoulder blades. “Deep breath in and then out. Very good! Perfect, sweetheart.”

He crunches you twice beneath his torso, pulling two very satisfying clicks from your spine, and you could’ve sworn you’d felt his lips brush your skin, his face having pressed against your neck with each push.

“Wow.” You gasp, feel the release of pressure at either end of your spine, and he chuckles with a rub to your arm.

“Feeling alright?” You nod and he grins wider, pleased. “Great! Just lay there for a second while I document and then we’ll get you up and see how your head feels, okay?”

“Okay.” His shoulders look surprisingly broad from the back, and you can’t help but look him up and down while you wait. His shirt tucks inwards at his waist, highlighting how slim he is, while his slacks are fitted around his backside and thighs, also showing how muscular he is, and the longer you stare, the more worked up you can feel yourself become.

“How you doing?” He spins quite suddenly, giving life to the fact that you were staring so hard at his ass you zoned out, and you turn your head away fast enough that you almost trigger your own whiplash, and you ignore the light chuckles he releases. “Should we stand you up now?”

You nod and accept his outstretched hand, and he gently pulls you from the bed and settles your feet back on the floor, hand hovering around your elbow just incase your legs are too weak, but you stand just fine, albeit a bit wobbly.

“Lightheaded? Any pain? Take a few steps if you’d like.” You roll your shoulders and stretch your back a little, taking a couple steps back and forth and rolling the balls of your feet.

“I feel pretty good. The muscles on my lower back are tender but it’s not like before.” He immediately steps close to your side and presses his palm gently to the base of your spine, and you turn away before he can see your lashes flutter. How is his hand so warm?

“Those are your paralumbar muscles, and they commonly get the brunt of the force when adjusting this joint. I’ll massage them with my gun and they should loosen right up, lay down again.” You raise a brow in curiosity but busy yourself with settling face first on the table again, not risking getting caught staring a second time when it’s already so obvious to him that you’re attracted.

“Now this can be a little loud, but it’s just the motor that vibrates the wand, so bear with me a minute sweetheart.” The who the what now? Where is this going?

A loud buzzing catches you off guard and your head shoots up to find Dr Jung wielding a machine that looks entirely too much like a drill to instill confidence in you, regardless of what he says, and he must be able to sense your nervousness because his hand is rubbing your back the moment he’s in reaching length.

“It’ll feel good, promise.” I’m sure it will! That’s the problem!

You tense as the massage gun gets closer and he lifts a hand to stroke the hair off the back of your neck, and you shudder fair too noticeably at his touch on such hyper sensitive skin, starting to relax when he massages the tense spots on either side.

The first contact with the gun makes you jump in shock, but the kneading vibrations in the middle of your back having you melting instantly and you can’t help the slight moan you let out as you turn into a flesh puddle under his touch. He feels it with his hold on your neck, and you sense his chuckles even if the vibrations block the sound, and then his hand glides down your spine to help circle and press in accompaniment of the gun and you’re a goner.

“Good?” Low - so, so low is his voice, and you almost dissolve into thin air as the timbre coats your already jello’d body like honey. You’re practically out of your mind, the want you have for him mixing with the pure heaven of his fingers kneading across your back and turning into one huge ball of lust that settles deep in your core. It’d been far too long since a man massaged you, let alone bed you, and the lack of fulfillment on both sides is clearly taking its toll.

“Y-Yeah.” He hums, a low sound that vibrates stronger than the gun in your core, and your body tenses as a sudden shot of arousal throbs between your walls, and he soothes it with another stroke down your spine, circling the ball end of the massage gun further down until suddenly the vibrations are no longer just a slight feeling, but a fully blown shake in your core.

The ball end is press right against where he’d been massaging earlier on either side of the tailbone, and it penetrates right down the soft flesh of your ass, into your thighs and directly into your core. You’re tensing more as waves of pleasure start to slicken your folds and stick your panties to your entrance, but you try your best to keep in control while you bury your burning cheeks into the face cushion and bite hard at your lip.

The realisation of just how hot your body is burning comes full swing when suddenly all vibrations are gone and he places the gun off to the side, using two hands on the base of your spine instead. “You’re tensing up, is it too tender?”

He knows; you can hear it in his voice and feel it in the way his thumbs rotate the flesh at the starting curve of your ass, and you force your lungs to take a deep breath, thighs pressing together as your core gives a throb in protest of the sudden lack of stimulation.

“Are these sore?” A patronising lilt just enough to make your fingers clench and toes curl meets your ears as his fingers oh so lightly drift over the peak of your ass and down across your thighs, and you have to stop yourself from lifting your hips to meet him. “Where does it ache most, sweetheart?”

Dr Jung’s fingers knead low, just above the backside of your knee, and your leg gives a little jerk in response that has him pressing harder, and he prompts you to speak again. “Where should I be massaging, love? You need to tell me so I can make it feel better.” He wants you to ask for it. And god, do you hope he’s being serious, because the ache settling in the depths of your heat is sending your tongue loose, and you can’t control yourself against the blatant temptation.

“Higher.” You’re not exactly proud of the way your voice shakes and cracks, but you’re way too deep to care in the moment, especially when his long-fingered hands drift slightly higher and encourage you to part your thighs just a little further with a gentle push on the insides.

“Right here?” Fake curiosity and concern when his fingertips roll into the fleshier part of your thigh makes you squeeze the hand rests even harder,gritting your teeth and still fighting the way your hips want to lift and put you on display. You’re shamefully desperate, but something tells you he might just like it that way.

“H-Higher, please.”

“Oh, up here?” His hand is scalding through the think cotton and spandex of your leggings, and you audibly release a shuddering breath when his fingers fidget in the soft spot right next to your panty line, close enough to your leaking entrance that if he moved a centimetre to the right he’d feel the moisture. “That’s strange, I didn’t adjust your hip.”

You whine, hips lifting finally and his thumb presses straight onto your entrance through the fabric, adding even more force when he realises exactly what you’ve done, and the whimper you release almost drowns out the pleasantly surprised grunt he gifts you upon feeling just how soaked you’ve become.

“Oh, you’ve made a mess, haven’t you?” His thumb rotates, and just by the slickness of your panties you can tell it’s seeping completely through to his touch. “You want me to make it better, baby?”

“Hnng-yes, please!” A strong grip clasps your ankles and you squeak in shock when you’re suddenly yanked to the end of the bed, your ass landing flush against his hips, toes just touching the floor and a hot, heavy thickness pressed solidly against you. “Oh-”

His large hand wraps around the back of your neck and he pulls you off the bed on the balls of your feet and spins you in place, shushing you and pressing you backwards until you’re seated on the edge again and his lips are free to smack wetly against yours. Dr Jung kisses you with abandon, devouring you with an impatience only applicable to the risky situation at hand, and your thoughts flicker briefly to the fact that there were most definitely other people in the rooms surrounding you.

But you can only care as much as he does, and he doesn’t seem overly concerned if the way he hitches your knee around his waist and dips his tongue past your lips is anything to go by. His fingers still knead at your fleshy thigh and you pull him closer with both legs now wrapped around his hips, and your fingers find his hair just the same as his do yours, twisting into the ends and tugging gently.

“God-” He pulls back with a huff, pressing his forehead to yours and cupping your cheek firmly, and you press close to his chest while the both of you stop and breathe heavily. “Why was it so hard to resist you, hm?” He chuckles, pulling your chin even closer until your lower lips brush against each other. But he doesn’t let you connect them right away. “Moaning while I’m trying to medically help you, dirty girl.”

“Your hands just feel so good, I–hnngh-” He chuckles while his hand glides down your back to knead your ass and press your core against his thick length, rolling hard against you, and his teeth tug your lower lip between his.

There almost a sting of pain at how hard he sucks your flesh into his mouth, and you can feel how bruised and swollen he's made your lips when he releases it to press a hard kiss to your mouth. His hips still circling, he hums a moan when your fingers drop to the collar of his shirt and he doesn't stop you when you slip open the buttons and tug the ends from his slacks waistband.

“You have no idea.” His words are heavily muffled from the embrace of your lips and you pull back to look over his toned torso that is now revealed to your eyes, running your hands down his heated skin and tucking your fingertips into his slacks. His own fingers glide to the sides of your leggings and he presses his thumbs to either hip, circling the joint and pinching the flesh to make you squeak. “I have a lot more than my hands to make you feel good, sweetheart.”

“Show me.” You're breathless, leaning into his chest and trying to swivel your hips against his, essentially uselessly with his tight hold on you.

“Yeah?” He taunts, jerking you closer with a rough tug, hooking his fingertips under your waistband and squeezing your skin. “You're sure?”

Both of you pull back to regard the other just for a moment, but there's not a modicum of doubt to be found in either of your eyes, and you each move as one when he presses you back to lay on the bed and you lift your hips. Your leggings slip from the ends of your feet, one sock going with them while the other stays, and neither of you pay it any mind once his hands are tickling your ribs under your shirt. His touch is a scorching warmth as it eases your shirt up, bunched until just above your breasts, and he leans over you as he tugs one cup of your bra down to envelop the tight peak of your nipple into his mouth.

Gasping as quietly as you can, your teeth find your lower lip and your hands lift to twist fingers through the silky strands of his hair, holding him close to continue his ministrations. Opposite hand finding your other mound, he does the same, licking his lips when the flesh bounces under his rough hand and swiping across your nipple before sucking it firmly between his teeth. You can feel the bruises forming on the sensitive flesh, and you yearn for more of the burning throb that it brings while his mouth runs across your skin.

Your chest is heaving by the time he releases you, and he stands between your parted thighs at the end of the bench with a dark hunger in his eyes, licking his lips once more as he glances over the mottled skin, still shining with his saliva.

Impatience settles deep in your stomach and you can't help yourself from reaching down and tugging the buckle of his belt open hard enough for the metal and leather to hit your inner thigh with a burning sting. He grins indulgently as he hooks a palm under each of your knees and tugs you further towards him, now hanging slightly off the bench. Bending your legs back until your thighs almost touch your chest, he leans down to deposit a wet, open mouthed kiss onto each of your thighs before cheekily biting the skin near your panty line, the red of the fabric darkened by the copious amount of juices you'd released.

“Pull them aside for me, sweetheart.” His words, muffled by the swirling of his tongue right beside your core, pull a shudder from your spine, and you quickly do as he says, hooking your finger under the tight band and exposing yourself. “Perfect.”

Your palm smacks against your mouth to hold in the cry his tongue pulls from your throat as he laves the tip of the muscle through your folds. A whimper escapes enough for him to hear as he curls it around your clit, and he grunts wetly into your heat while he stares up at you darkly, lashes fluttering as he savours your taste.

“Please just–huh!” You hiccup a sob when his tongue pierces your folds and curls deep within, and you're forced to turn your face into the curve of your elbow and clamp your teeth into the flesh of your bicep to hold in your sounds. Your fingers find his hair again, and you war with yourself whether to push him away or pull him closer, not wanting the pleasure to end, but hungering for something more.

He releases the throbbing little nub with a wet smack, licking his lips lavishly and pressing them just once to the soft swell of your stomach before straightening to his full height and unsnapping the clasp of his slacks to reveal dark navy briefs. Your back arches while your core clenches under the lack of stimulation and he tuts at the desperate way your feet press against the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. The sound is scolding, meant as a warning, but it only serves to feed the beast deep inside and you press your thighs together to try and soothe the ache.

“Open them.” The sharp slap he delivers the the insides of each thigh makes you jump, another twinge of emptiness running through you, but it's not for long as his longer fingers run across your folds to test your wetness, and he pulls them away with a satisfied grin at how drenched the digits are.

You don't get to see his cock, eyes too busy rolling back into your head as the tip parts your folds and his thumb massages slick circles against your clit, but the burn of the stretch tells you just how thick he is. He spreads you open slowly, fingertips digging bruisingly hard into the flesh of your hip while his eyes watch yours, heavily lidded. You struggle to take him all at first, and he draws back gently for a moment before pressing in again, and he quickly leans down to muffle his grunt into the swell of your breasts when he bottoms out inside you.

“O-Oh!” The first thrust of his hips pushes his tip directly into your gspot, and your fingers loop into his nape while you lean up to press your parted lips against his jaw, and he turns his chin to meet them with his own, answering your gasp with a quiet groan. His hips quicken the easier the glide into your core becomes, and soon the light slapping of his hips meeting yours is echoing concerningly loud around the room, but neither of you are capable of caring.

He lifts himself higher onto the bench, hand releasing your hip to hold himself up with his forearm pressed beside you, and his thumb releases your clit to do the same on your other side, hands gliding under your shoulder blades to tangle in your hair. The new angle presses his tip even harder against the best spots and when he rests his weight against you and circles his hips, he's grinding heavily against your clit.

Every moan that his movements pull from you is swallowed by his tongue curling around yours, and when it gets hard to breathe he pulls back to latch his mouth onto your lower lip and suck the swollen flesh until he almost tastes the metallic tang of blood. The little quirks of pain, his teeth in your lip and his fingers tugging on your hair, intensify the pleasure and you're hurtling embarrassingly fast towards your orgasm.

“So–fucking–tight.” Each word is enunciated with a lift and drop of his hips, and your battered clit throbs while your walls flutter even tighter, and he mutters a swear as he pulls himself back up onto palms flat at your sides, maintaining his angle. “Feel that sweetheart? You're gonna cum for me.”

“Pleas–fuck!” He moves too quickly for your hazy mind to keep up with, pulling out of you and tugging you off the bench and onto shaky legs. He doesn't let you fall though, firm hands on your waist when he spins you and presses you forwards on your forearms, stomach sticking to the leather and hips digging almost painfully into the edge of the bench. He towers over you like this, hands holding your waist steady as he realigns with your entrance and thrusts back inside you hard, and your toes curl in mid air where they can't reach the floor.

“Give it to me. Cum on my cock, sweetheart. Feels good?” You're barely coherent enough to understand his words let alone speak, but he's not satisfied until you reply. Both hands release your waist to grab you, one gently finding your throat and the other twisting hard into the roots of your hair and pulling you up into a hard arch. “Answer me!”

“Fuck–so good! I'm–I can't, I'm gonna cum–ah!” The hand in your hair quickly moves to cover your mouth as you start to peak with your release, and the fingers on your throat splay across your chest to take a handful of your breast while he holds you up with ease.

“Good girl, that's it.” The way he has your back arched presses your clit against the firm leather of the bed, and you whimper as your eyes start to roll back, the quick thrusting of his hips rubbing you hard enough to chafe your hipbones. He catches every moan, cry and whimper as you cum, mouth pressed against your shoulder as he pants and grunts against your skin.

Your orgasm is blinding, arms and legs numb, and you can feel yourself going lax in his arms while you come down from the pleasure. He doesn't ease up the moving of his hips very much but he does gently lower you back onto the bench, hands massaging down from the tops of your shoulders to the middle of your back where it had been strained the most, and you moan gently into the leather when his thumb rolls the tired muscles soothingly.

“Cum in me.” His breath hitches against your spine, frozen where he'd leant down to press a kiss to your back in apology, and you can feel the swell his cock gives at the suggestion. You don't know where it'd come from, the sudden craving, but something deep within craved the heat of his release filling your core, and your walls clenched at the idea.

“W-What?” His thrusts resume slowly, but it's the first time you'd heard a level of unsurety in his voice. “Really?”

“Please.” Nodding eagerly, you arch your back to press your hips against his, and he exhales heavily before picking up the pace once more. “I-Inside, want it–hnng!”

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up, hm? Greedy little thing.” His voice is composed even as his hips start to stutter, and his hands squeeze you tight as he slowly loses control. “Ask me! Ask for my cum!”

“Fuck–cum in me! Fill up my greedy pussy, make it yours–please!” His teeth find the flesh of your back but your whimper at the pain is quickly overruled but the gasp you release as the first shot of his cum is pushed deep inside your walls.

He's groaning as quietly as he can, chest heaving and sweat dripping down his jaw to land on your back as he nuzzles your abused skin gently and slowly grinds into you, the last spurts of his cum hot and thick inside you. And he makes sure to lean back, eyes keen as they watch his own length slip from between your folds, only a drop of release managing to follow him. The rest was still deep inside, ready to slowly glide out later and remind you just where he'd been.

“Shit.” He puffs, hands gently massaging your lower back still before he presses a kiss to the back of your head and steps away to retrieve tissues from his desk. Gentle and methodic, he tidies the both of you as best he can and helps you back into your leggings and one sock, chuckling softly at your exhaustion as you flop back onto the bench, still too fucked out to move too much yet. “Your back okay?”

“I might need a repeat appointment Dr. Jung. Unless you intend to bend my back out of shape a second time.” He grins, straightening his clothes and standing between your parted thighs as you push yourself to sit up. He holds you there, fingertips dipped into the curve of your spine as he presses your lips to his one more time.

“I have a private studio at home, if that suits your work schedule better? And call me Hoseok.” You giggle as he nips your lower lip, holding onto his slacks waistband as he leans against you.

“Then I guess you can adjust my back afterwards next time, right Hoseok?” His thumbs dip into your sides and he laughs when you wriggle away slightly.

“Sounds perfect.”

[justsomebucky]

Flicker

Summary: Canon(ish). Being in a relationship with a superhero is hard work.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,222

Warnings: language, timeline manipulation, angst, heavy self-reflection, no dialogue for once, cheesy, you know how I am already come on

A/N: This is my one-shot for @buckthegrump​’s angst & fluff challenge, where my prompt was the song “Flicker” by Niall Horan. I love this song, and it made me so sad I got out of bed (where I was being sad) to come write this sad (but hopeful) stream-of-conscious thing. Oh also it’s my first Steve fic, so please be gentle. I want to protect him, ohmygod.

You opened one eye slowly, then the other, waiting for them to adjust to the darkness. It was still early, much earlier than you were used to waking, but he’d already left - at least, his side of the bed was cold. A closer look at the smooth sheets suggested that he’d never come to bed at all.

The telltale signs of the needle scratching over his favorite Harry James record (at a low volume of course, because he was always polite like that) had announced his unexpected late arrival the night before. You figured he’d come find you, maybe call out your name softly as he searched each room just to see your face again after so long.

No such luck.

And you could have untangled your legs from your sheets and made your way into the living room to sit with him while he relaxed after a long day of…whatever it was he had done…but you didn’t. You stayed in your darkened bedroom, tangled in the sheets, eyes wide open as you stared at the bedroom door, willing him to walk through it.

It wasn’t a contest.

Neither of you were mad.

Something was just off, something was missing and had been for a while.

When you first met Steve Rogers, you kinda sorta knew who he was already.

Okay…that was a load of bullshit.

You knew exactly who he was, and that’s precisely why you tried to avoid him. And you didn’t just duck your head or leave the room, either, you flat-out made it clear that you understood what he did as a day job and while you respected the hell out of him, you wanted no part of it.

Your friends thought you were crazy. They wondered how you could possibly turn down the chance to be the girlfriend of one of the most famous men in the world. How could someone turn down handsome Steve Freakin’ Rogers, the original Avenger?

First of all, he would age much, much slower than you. How would that feel to turn look in the mirror one day and see your wrinkled face and grey hair while he still looked like a hot twenty-something?

Second, the danger of it all would keep you up at night with worry. You were already anxious enough, you didn’t need fifty more reasons to want to cry yourself to sleep.

Third, you knew that if you were ever to be with him, you’d be fourth place (at best) in his life, behind the rest of the world, the Avengers, and his unflinching sense of duty.

He tried here and there to use his sincerity, even a little bit of that old-fashioned charm, to take you out for a nice dinner or something. Each time, you gave him a big smile and told him he would meet a lucky lady someday, to save it for her.

But one day he approached you without all the charm and intensity you’d come to expect, and it was just…different.

His eyes were vulnerable, his shoulders drooping…and you weren’t one to swoop in and fix people or anything, but that had just been so out-of-character for him, for Steve Freakin’ Rogers, that you couldn’t help but put your reservations aside and try to at least be a good friend.

He’d lost so much time and so many people over the years that he became really good at hiding his own pain, but not in front of you. Even though you’d done all you could to avoid this man, for some reason you could read him, and he was hurting so much.

You started letting him in little by little, guarding your own heart while trying to repair his, but it was all for naught.

Steve Freakin’ Rogers, ya know...

And your feelings were stronger than you could have predicted.

When it was good, it was so good. The beginning, the honeymoon phase when a relationship is shiny and new and everything in the world is right, was probably the happiest you’d ever been in your entire life.

He’d leave from time to time, but it was never for that long at first. He kept you updated on everything he could, even learned how to Facetime for you, and his absence just made your reunions that much sweeter.

Like any cliché romance with a superhero though, the danger grew, and so did Steve’s unwillingness to step aside. That was just another thing you loved about him, though it made your heart sink just like you had predicted.

He was a good man…you couldn’t possibly hold him back from something he was meant to do.

And so each time he went away, he chipped off another piece of you and took it with him, leaving it wherever he ended up and inconveniently forgetting to return it.

Your work suffered. Your health became less-than-stellar, from both lack of sleep and lack of appetite.

Steve would come home and he would notice your state, but you would brush it off and say it was allergies or the neighbors were loud or work was stressing you out.

You never ever ever wanted to tell him the truth:

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep being the girlfriend of Steve Freakin’ Rogers.

It made you feel weak; neither of you needed that. He needed you to be strong in the moments he couldn’t be, when he actually found time to come home to you, because he’d spent all his energy and strength on everyone else. You were lucky he was coming home at all; so many others weren’t as fortunate in life.

He bought your excuses at first, or at least he acted like he did.

Worried glances, furrowed brows, and attempts to get you to eat and sleep were all noted but disregarded as you changed the topic and fussed over him.

Where did that cut come from?

What happened to your motorcycle this time?

You didn’t call, I was so worried…

So no, it didn’t surprise you when he didn’t come into the bedroom to greet you, to hold you in his arms like he used to.

The distance was just too far anymore.

He didn’t leave a note before he took off either, something you realized when the first rays of sunshine hit your skin and you finally made your way to the living room.

You ran your fingers over the record player, noticing that he’d put the album back in its sleeve and in its place on the shelf. His leather jacket, not needed in the springtime heatwave, was hanging by the door. It was like he had never been there at all. The room reminded you of that exhibit in the Smithsonian, another pristine tribute to the former life of Captain America right in your own apartment. The difference was, you didn’t have a plaque describing what happened here. There was no video showing highlights of your time with him.

No note...

In the great scheme of things, you felt inconsequential.

None of his possessions made you feel any closer to him. None of them brought you solace on the long nights when you sat up wondering why you weren’t as important as strangers on the street to the man you loved.

Even the leather jacket, which you’d wrapped around yourself on more than one occasion, held no comfort for you anymore. His scent had worn off a long time ago.

He was simply fading away, and you hated it.

You longed for a resolution.

You could see it in your mind; he would walk in, and you would ask him to have a seat on the couch, and you would tell him that it was over. The sleepless nights could be someone else’s for a change, because you weren’t getting any younger and you needed some stability.

You needed some effort from a partner.

Your day passed by like it normally would for a Saturday spent alone. The sun got higher in the sky as you checked off a few errands and grabbed lunch at a little café that you’d become a regular at. Table for one? Yes, thank you.

You kept going, though, having gotten this solo act down pretty well by now.

After a while, the sun dipped lower in the sky, the city lights began to shine, the air became a little cooler, and you finally let yourself think about him again.

Part of the walk home included trudging past the first place you had ever laid eyes on Steve Rogers in person. He’d been jogging past your apartment, looking every bit the handsome superhero you’d seen on the news. Your chest tightened at the memory of him doing a double-take in your direction. He had become so distracted that he nearly fell face-first over a bicycle on the sidewalk.

And yeah, you still felt a little smug that you’d affected him that much just by existing.

What happened to those days?

Now he couldn’t even be bothered to wake you up in the next room when he was home for the first time in weeks.

You shook your head, refusing to tarnish such a happy, hilarious memory. If things truly weren’t going to work out, you were damn determined to at least stay friends. He was such a good man, he at least deserved that sort of closure.

The stairwell of your building was haunted by the ghosts of the two of you racing up to your floor (first one there gets to pick the movie!), and of him reaching for your hand the first time (see, this isn’t so bad, is it?). Even the landing near your front door brought back memories of all the times he wasn’t willing to wait until you were inside to kiss you, instead pressing you against the wall feverishly before his lips covered yours (I want you…).

Your heart was aching by the time you opened the door and went back inside.

Something was off again, though.

He was back.

Since the living room and kitchen were empty, you moved as quietly as possibly to the bedroom door, even though his heightened sense of hearing probably alerted him to your presence the second you got to the top of the stairs.  

He was there, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, and he made no move to look at you even when you stood in the doorway and waited.

Now there was a choice before you, and while your instincts told you to sleep on the couch that night, you moved forward into the darkened room and around to the other side of the bed.

It would be so much work, and he might not even be interested anymore, but you had to know for sure if there was anything left...if a future would be possible in those circumstances, even as friends.

You gave him one last chance as you paused at the side of the bed, waiting in case he wanted to protest, to reject you and tell you not tonight or something.

He didn’t move a muscle...didn’t even blink.

You slipped off your shoes and crawled on top of the messy sheets until you were on your side facing him, though you didn’t reach out for him just yet.

His hair was longer, you noted, and he had a beard that was sort of dark and messy. It made him look dangerous, a little wilder than you were used to seeing.

God, you loved it.

After a minute, he wordlessly lifted his arm in an open, unspoken truce. You almost immediately tucked yourself against his body, letting your free arm wrap around his stomach as you pressed your head gently to his chest.

You heard his heartbeat, that’s how silent it was in the room.

It got you thinking about that sound and how much you’d missed it over the last few weeks. It made you think of the first night you’d spent with him, curled around him after an intimate moment, listening as his racing heart tried desperately to calm itself.

You thought about all the heartbeats you’d shared with him…all of your own heartbeats that were skipped because he smiled at you or kissed you, or you saw him across the room.

You wondered how you ever got to a place where someone’s heartbeat meant so much to you.

There, inside your chest, a tiny flicker of hope was starting to form. He was there, wasn’t he? He’d reciprocated.

He was holding you again, wasn’t he?

The flicker grew a little stronger as his heartbeat got a little louder.

Steve Freakin’ Rogers’ arm tightened around you, and a second later you felt his lips place a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

Your self-preservation instincts were screaming inside your head by then, but his heartbeat did its best to drown it all out. This was your Steve Rogers, the man you’d fallen so deeply in love with that you’d promised to never lose sight of that love even in the darkest of moments.

That promise sparked some electric courage as you shifted to meet his gaze.

His blue eyes looked back at yours, searching in the dark for an echo, a sign…

…for that flicker of hope.

Your smile ignited.

---

[alanaswriting]

Convenient Store Dates

Carl Grimes x Reader

part two of “We’re Not Friends”

Request: Can you do a Carl imagine where Carl wants to take the reader on a real date so he begs Rick to let him take her driving. Rick finally gives in and he lets Carl take her out driving. Carl tries to help her learn how to drive (because it stressed Rick out too much) then maybe they find a little convenient store. Maybe they find pickles for Maggie because she was craving them (this is before 7x01). Omg maybe this could be the part two of "we're not friends"

Word Count: 3,800 ish

Warnings: swearing

A/N: wow this imagine has been r o u g h. writing it was easy breezy but I’ve had the worst troubles posting this! either way I really enjoyed this! thank you so much for requesting!

Requests are currently open!

Please don’t steal, plagiarize or repost my writing. I work really hard on my writing as I imagine all writers do and it would suck to find out someone else is trying to claim it as theirs.

ー

It’d taken a lot of begging. It’d taken so much pleading and extra chores, babysitting Judith, bending over backwards and doing Rick’s every word for him to even consider letting Carl take a car outside the walls of Alexandria. Carl had been doing everything right to try and prove that he was responsible enough, old enough, to do this. It’d taken Carl weeks to get Rick to get used to the idea, let alone agree to it so when Rick had given Carl the keys to a car parked by the walls of Alexandria early on a Sunday morning Carl was in disbelief.

Carl thought maybe it was because his father felt bad that he’d never get to experience a real date with you, like a arcade date or going to a carnival in town, or going to the movies when you both turned 16 and had finally gotten a car and some freedom, or maybe it was the fact Rick couldn’t stand teaching you how to drive himself. Whatever had changed Rick’s mind Carl didn’t care about, he was just ecstatic that Rick trusted him enough to do this.

Carl had been itching to take you somewhere since the two of you confessed your feelings to each other that night that seemed like forever ago but was barely a few weeks. The words ‘we’re not friends’ kept echoing in his head and he wanted to prove them to you, make them a reality for you, for the both of you.

Things had changed since that night definitely, you started to share slow kisses  before runs, longer hugs, things had even gotten heated a few times and you looked at Carl differently than you had before and he’d definitely started seeing you in a new light too but he wanted to make it official. A shitty car ride might not be the best idea of a date but it was all he had so he was going to make the best of it.

“Carl, oh my god. I’m gonna kill us. I’m horrible, Rick’s gonna kill me if I kill us.” You say in the drivers seat gripping the steering wheel for dear life.

Carl was sitting in the passenger seat calmly but you could tell his shoulders were a little stiff, he was nervous. With you as a driver he had a good reason to be. Maybe he wasn’t as nervous as you but he was still nonetheless nervous. You knew him too well for him to try and hide it from you. He had a calm exterior though and was doing well when it came to guiding you and telling you what to do. He wasn’t getting frustrated or angry. You were thankful for that.

“Just, just slow down. Loosen up, it’s fine. I’m right here.” Carl tries to reassure you so you’ll feel more comfortable behind the wheel.

Carl wasn’t exactly the best driver out there but he was better than you to say the least. You’d never driven before, you never had the opportunity. The end of the world began long before you could take drivers ed or get your license. Sure, you’d sat on your dad’s lap and steered before when you were younger in the middle of nowhere but that was when you were 6, you weren’t 6 anymore.

Nobody taught you how to drive because when Rick first tried to he’d gotten so frustrated he had to take over, he wasn’t as patient as normal when it came to teaching you how to drive and you didn’t blame him. You sucked. You knew you sucked. It was just something you weren’t good at.

“Can’t you just drive? I trust you more.” You whine a little taking your eyes off the road for a split second to glance over at the blue eyed boy sitting beside you.

“And I trust you, you’re doing fine. You have to learn eventually.” Carl says and moves one of his free hands to rest on your shoulder.

Your shoulders immediately loosen under his touch and you slouch in the drivers seat. The speed of the car slowly began to lessen in speed until you were at a steady 40 MPH and you felt a little better. You might not have believed or trusted yourself but Carl did, and even when you didn’t agree with him you trusted his judgement and his thoughts, he was usually right about most things. If he believed in you this much maybe you should believe in yourself too. After all, you hadn’t hit anything yet, which was a plus.

“There you go, see you’re doing fine. You’re just nervous.” Carl tells you as a small smile begins to form on his lips.

Carl was good at calming people down, he always had been but with you it was different, just his voice made things feel a little better. It was like magic.

Your grip on the steering wheel loosened and your knuckles were no longer white, your palms were still sweating though. Your hair was in your face a little and the air surrounding you and Carl was hot. Rick told you not to use to AC to save gas but the two of you were boiling in the summer heat. You had to do something.

You made a bold move and took one of your hands off the steering wheel to roll down both the front windows. You pressed the button on the door next to you watching the glass windows roll down easily. You couldn’t help but grin as the warm wind hit your skin blowing your hair around gently. You weren’t going that fast so the breeze passing through the car wasn’t strong enough to be a distraction but it was definitely enough to be fun.

“See, it’s fun.” Carl teases you as the breeze blows his hat back off his forehead.

“Maybe.” You respond with a smile on your lips.

You glance over at the boy you’d grown to love so much. You knew you probably shouldn’t be taking your eyes off the road but the sight beside you was one you never wanted to forget. Carl’s eyes were crinkled by the smile on his face and his cheeks were a rosy red. He looked genuinely happy, like he didn’t have a care in the world. You wished you could see him like this all the time but that wasn’t realistic, so for now you were just going to enjoy the happiness in the air while it lasted.

You watched Carl’s slender fingers move towards the radio turning it on and pressing the CD button as music blasts through the speakers, the song Come on Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight specifically. The sound was a little funny from the oldness of the car and the scratches on the CD but Carl didn’t care. He bobbed his head and mouthed the words laughing every now and then.

“You’re staring.” Carl comments after awhile and you instantly avert your gaze back toward the road in front of you.

“No I wasn’t.” You say defensively causing the older boy to chuckle.

He watched the way your eyes focus on the road as if you’re scared that you can’t control the vehicle you’re driving as much despite his reassurance. He notices the way you’re squinting and it reminds him of when you first had glasses in the beginning, but he accidentally broke them.

He felt horrible about it and he knew you were about half blind without them so he tried to find you pairs to help your eyesight but after awhile the two of you both forgot. Carl always had good eyesight from what you knew, you envied him for it.

He was about to say something before he stops before he can speak and squints his eyes staring at the road ahead. Your gaze follows his as you see a small building coming into sight. It wasn’t big, maybe the size of a house, it was a bit hidden due to the overgrown trees and plant life but Carl had spotted it still. It got clearer as you pulled up closer to it.

“Hey, wait, up there.” Carl catches your gaze removing his hand from your shoulder to point towards a empty convenient store to your left.

There were a few walkers in the parking lot of the building but you knew that you and Carl could take them so you sharply turned into the parking lot last minute causing Carl to dramatically grasp the console and the handle bar above his head. A shaky breath leaves his lips as you hit the brakes parking in the middle of the lot harshly.

“Yeah, we need to work on that.” He mumbles causing you to roll your eyes.

Like anyone’s gonna car about a few rough turns in a apocalypse, your thoughts echo through your head.

The walkers surrounding the old run down building begin to turn their attention to the beaten up car you and Carl were in as they began to crowd it quickly. It was only a few, three or four. The music wasn’t helping and Carl shut it off quickly. You weren’t worried though, you could take them easily. Especially since they were all piled on your side giving Carl the opportunity to slip out of the car with ease.

He left the car door open behind him and quickly stabbed the two closed to himin the head roughly before you stabbed the other two from the open drivers side window. You unbuckled your tight seatbelt shutting Carl’s open door before slipping out of your now open one. You shut it behind you gripping your knife tightly just in case you had some surprise attacks around the corner.

The air was thick with humidity which meant it was probably going to rain soon. The sky was covered in light grey clouds lingering over the previous bright blue sky and the atmosphere had a quiet silence filling it which was unusual but calming.

“I’ll go in first.” Carl informs you only for you to shake your head in disagreement.

“No, I’ll go in first, then you’ll cover me as we search it.” You tell him changing the plan so you were the one going first.

“No, that’s not the plan.” He says causing you to scoff.

“It’s tiny, let me do this.” You argue with him.

Carl always tried to pull the same thing every time you two would go out on a run together, he’d try and go first because he wanted to protect you but you were quicker so you thought it was better if you went first. Carl’s movements were quite but they had a lag in them, you preferred if you went first. Besides, you didn’t need protecting.

“We’ll go in side by side.” He settles and you stubbornly nod in agreement.

You still preferred if you just went first.

The two of you make your way against the blood covered concrete going up to the glass doors of the store. You were about to pull the handle but Carl shook his head grabbing your wrist to stop you and he put a finger to his lips signaling for you to stay quiet.

His grip on your wrist lingered a little longer than it probably should’ve before he brought his hand up towards the dirty glass and tapped on it a good three times loudly. The sound travelled through the air and you then realized he was waiting to see if there was any walkers in there and if so how many. The two of you waited for a couple minutes until you both decided the convenient store was completely empty.

With that, you both pulled each door open, your hand on your knife, Carl’s on his gun. You glanced around the messy isles and kept your shoulder touching Carl’s to make sure he was still there next to you. You always got nervous going on runs or searching places with Carl.

If anything ever happened to him, you couldn’t even think about that. Carl had been your right hand man for forever, you two were a team, you’d saved each others asses so much since the start. You couldn’t live without him, and you don’t mean that dramatically, you’d get yourself killed without him most likely. You needed him.

“Y/N.” His voice says as you stand next to him stuck in thought.

The voice breaks you from distraction and you turn your head towards where he’s looking only to find the candy isle and the food isle fully untouched. The luck and coincide of this was incredibly low but somehow here it was. Your eyes went a little wide and your grip on your knife loosened. This place looked like it’d never been looted before. You’d hit the gold mine for small convenient stores.

“Holy shit.” You whisper moving towards the isle slowly.

Carl kept his gun up high covering you just in case anything popped out that was a risk to you. The sight of everything was surprising and you didn’t think you’d ever seen gummy worms again in your life time. It was a sweet sight.

Your footsteps echoes in the building as you grab a pack of gum off the shelf before grinning. You turn around towards Carl since he was traveling closely behind you and hand the pack of bubblegum to him as he stares at you in confusion.

“Here, you need these.” You tease watching Carl’s protective exterior fall a little.

He rolls his baby blue eyes and the corner of his mouth turn into a smirk. He glances down at the packet of gum before grabbing it and pushing it into the back pocket of his jeans but not before taking out a piece and pushing it into his mouth. He moves his gun to his gun holster and secures it there now that he knew the two of you were safe and it was okay.

He reaches behind you grabbing a bag of M&Ms handing them to you with a amused expression. He clears his throat and you can already tell he’s going to make some snide comment but to your surprise he doesn’t.

“Here, sweet, like you.” He smiles and you feel your heart flutter in your chest.

“Thanks, loser.” You mumble grabbing the bag and shoving it into your pocket as well.

You can hear Carl’s chewing as you begin to shove multiple candies and foods, probably expired but better than nothing, into your heavy backpack. You made your way to what used to be the refrigerator isle and grab a few bottles of soda, water, and even alcohol, not for you of course.

Carl was doing the same as you but he was focusing more on a few canned foods he’d found filling the shelves instead of candy. He’d grabbed a duffle bag he’d found on the floor curiously and had it in his hand as he continued searching. The two of you were both distracted and silent until you found something on a shelf causing you to start smiling at the sight of it, what were the odds.

“Didn’t Maggie say she was craving pickles earlier?” You ask Carl as he continues to search another isle.

“I think so, that’s what Enid said anyways.” He says before he stops and stands up turning around.

You grab the last jar of pickles on the shelf and turn towards him waving it around in the air to get his attention. He looks surprised but still amused as he picks up his worn out backpack off the floor keeping it on his shoulders once again.

He walks around the shelves looking at the jar in your hands before leaning against metal beside the two of you. He was a little concerned about how old those pickles actually were but he didn’t want to ruin your mood so he kept the thought to himself.

“Maggie’s gonna love you.” He says causing your smile to grow to the point where your teeth were starting to show.

“I know.”

You shove the jar into your opened backpack carefully before setting it back on the ground as you. You sigh and glance around the building trying to see if there was anything else the two of you could grab that’d be useful.

There was candy and sodas but you’d already grabbed some and didn’t have room for more. You saw a few unnecessary things covering the shelves around you but there wasn’t much. Most of it was gone, things must’ve went downhill before this places new stock came in.

It sucked but at least you’d get to show Judith what a ring pop was and that’s all that mattered to you right now. That little girl deserved some candy, especially considering you don’t think she’d ever had any before, maybe a cookie or two but it wasn’t the same.

“Hey, look at what I found.” Carl exclaims.

You turn your head to see him opening the duffle bag to reveal some old roller skates and a few elbow pads only to cause you to shake your head instantly. You couldn’t skate for shit, Carl knew this. He on the other hand was a little better than you, still horrible though. That’s how most of your skills worked, you were good but he was better.

You used to get jealous but it doesn’t bother you much anymore.

“Come on, maybe you’ll be better at rollerskating than you are at driving.” He says pulling you towards the exit as you grab your bag quickly to avoid leaving it behind.

“Carl, there’s no way-“ He interrupts you quickly shaking his head.

“You’re not getting out of this so might as well just put them on.” He says as you roll your eyes again.

The two of you exit the building and make your way to the curb of sidewalk outside the small convenient store. You sit down on the pavement as your hands scrap the concrete before grabbing the roller skates from Carl unhappily. He had a smile on his face as bright as the sun itself which made you a little less grumpy but still unhappy about it.

You both laced up your roller skates before Carl tried to stand up before you shakily. He was pretty wobbly and you stifled a few laughs. Carl was never the clumsy type but he wasn’t doing too well on the skates so far and all he was doing was standing there. It made you want to laugh but once again you held back.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Carl curses as he almost looses his balance causing you to stand up quickly just in case you need to grab him.

You stand up just as wobbly as he did but tough it out as you try to catch your balance so you won’t fall. You grab onto Carl’s shoulder for support only for Carl to turn his head towards you slightly surprised. You stood up to help him and now you were only making it worse.

“What, what are you doing? Stop it. Nuh uh.” Carl laughs loudly shaking your hand off his shoulder only for you to grab his arms instead.

“Come on, I suck, help me, I’m doing this for you.” You respond trying to get his support as he sighs grabbing your hands with his own.

They were rough but sweaty and still the action made your heart race. Carl still made you nervous, even after all these years. It was cute for awhile but now it was tiring. You didn’t get how people could complain about losing the spark. You two would never lose yours, and even if you did, it’d be okay.

He begins to inch away from the curb carefully trying to keep you steady as well as himself. It was difficult but he had it. You feel tense at first but after a few minutes of not falling you started to trust that maybe you had this, or at least maybe Carl did because he was the one helping you out the most.

“I got you, relax.” He grins starting to pick up the pace so you weren’t inching away so slowly anymore.

He starts out slow before letting go of one of your hands so the two of you were just holding one of each others hand. You were side by side now and the smile Carl had was worth the pain in your ankles and your shaky knees. It always was.

He was looking at you with such happiness, things felt good. It felt like you were normal teenagers, like this wasn’t the end of the world for once. If you closed your eyes you could probably pretend you were in a 50s themed roller rink with him with some new pop music playing through the stereos that was annoyingly catchy.

What you’d do to experience that with him.

“Thank you.” You tell him as he shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m only helping, you can do a lot of things without my help, Y/N. You just don’t realize it.” He admits causing you to think about his words more than he intended.

You knew you could do things without Carl, you two were separated for awhile after the prison so you knew you could survive without him, you were capable of it, you knew that much. You didn’t need him, you could survive without his help or him, you didn’t want to.

“I do.” You confess as the two of you stop skating so his attention is fully on you.

His face twists with confusion and you turn your body so you’re facing him before you lean forward towards him. You move yourself so you’re a little closer to him than before. He looks down at you trying to figure out what you’re thinking as you only smile.

“I just don’t want to.”

His lips offer a sad smile and he was about to say something before a few drops of water fall on your faces. The droplets cause you both to stare up towards the sky as the droplets suddenly turn into a drizzle. The two of you were both smiling ear to ear. You even had your tongue out a little trying to catch the raindrops.

You turn your gaze back to Carl after a second or two only to see that he was staring at you the whole time. You felt embarrassed and a blush rose to your cheeks but he hardly noticed.

“You won’t have to.” He assures you before moving his face towards yours.

His nose brushes against your own before he captures your lip in a slow kiss. The raindrops around you dampen your hair and clothes but it didn’t matter right now.

Today was good.

[wrong-wand]

You’re all I need.

Ship: George Weasley x Reader, Percy Weasley x Reader (platonic), ft Ron, MJ, & Lucy w/ mentions of other Weasleys

Warning: Angst-ish? I don't know, it’s my first time.

AN: Oh my god, shocker, i have no requests. jk i have 1. 

TIS A 100 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION ! ! MY FIRST TRY AT SLIGHTLY ANGST.

Following media belongs to creator and owner - I take no responsibility, right or recognition of any sort! :-)

Walking through the third floor of your four story house - well, four stories and magically enlarged basement ( courtesy of Arthur and his muggle collection that, and i quote, ‘Molly doesn’t need to know about yet’ ) - you continued to scope out a particular room in an attempt to decide what colour you would use to paint the new walls and thus colour coordinate with the furniture you were soon to buy, or build if the Weasley men weren’t too busy.

‘I’m sure Arthur would love to learn how to work a hand sander’ a chuckle slipped past your lips, the sound being smother by your wrist since your hands were speckled with varying paint colours. “What’s funny Auntie [y/n]?” Your niece, Lucy, ran into the room, the little ginger pigtails you’d put into her hair this morning bouncing as she ran into your arms - her little sock clad feet making tiny thumps as she ran. You lifted the tiny four year old with ease as you explained to her that you wanted her grandfather to help you build furniture with muggle tools.

“Grandpa would have so much fun! Let’s do it, mummy could help too!” You gazed down at her happy face as she bounced in your arms, sparks of excitement visible around her - you were being literal, with her uncontrollable magical tendencies it was a wonder something hadn’t caught fire  yet. “Maybe, but we’ll have to do it another time -” you spoke to her lightly as she groaned in protest grabbing her face with a look of utter disapproval and leaning back out of your arms. Rustling the plastic tarp that covered the floor as you moved towards the many cans of different coloured paint that littered the floor, you placed her back on the ground by your pile of painting brushes and you kneeled down to be as close to her height as possible. “- cause right now I need your help to decide what colour we’re gonna paint this new room,” Another loud gasp resounded from your niece’s lips as she started to bounce in excitement once again, her hair bouncing with her. “Really?!” “Yup, you get to decide what col-“ “ORANGE!” “O-orange?” you looked at the little ginger-ette with a furrowed brow as she immediately ran over to the red and yellow cans of paint. You glanced around the room worriedly as you were hoping at least one niece or nephew would give a lighter, more subtle colour to paint your house. Victoire having asked you to paint a room bright purple, Dominique requesting a shocking blue, Louis making your bathroom lime green, and your bedroom was currently a rather odd shade of yellow thanks to a 4 year old MJ (Molly Junior / Molly II). At this rate you were worried for the rest of your house - oh merlin, your new kitchen. “Are you sure you don’t want like a soft grey? Or maybe a nice beige?” You chewed on your lip, falling to sit back on the floor as you watched your niece attempt to lug over the red paint can. “No! Orange! Like my hair! And daddy’s and Uncle Charlie’s and Uncle Bill’s and Uncle Ron’s and Aunt -” “Okay okay, understood,” you closed your eyes and rubbed at your temples as a sigh of defeat escaped your lips “If the husband is gonna be ginger, I guess so is everything else.” ‘This is gonna bring a whole new meaning to making sure the carpet matches the drapes’ rolling your eyes at your thoughts, you picked up your niece in one arm and the can of paint in the other as you turned to head into the hallway and down the many flights of stairs that your house had. So maybe making enough room for the entire Weasley family to stay the night seemed a little … much, but hey, with all these stairs your glutes and hamstrings have never looked better! .“Where are we going? The yellow is up stairs!” your niece wiggled in your arms, her silent plea to be put down. “That can is empty, we can’t make orange paint without yellow paint, Lulu.” “Oh - ok.” Setting her down on the landing of the 2nd floor staircase, you watched as she sprinted down the stairs and into the kitchen where she was no doubt getting up to no good with your Kneazle wandering around the house. Following your niece into the kitchen, you found her standing on one of the kitchen chairs and trying to coax one of the Bowtruckles out of the floating indoor garden you had placed in the corner, while Grimmur; your white spotted kneazle, watched her from the kitchen counter. “Darling, you know the bowtruckles don’t like it when you poke at them,” “I know, but this one is making silly faces at me!” “Still, Lulu, you shouldn’t-“ POP Turning your head to glance behind you, you spotted your fiancé as well as his brothers - Percy and Ronald - all holding immense amounts of bags and boxes. “UNCLE GEORGE!” “Merlin George, not even my kid has me as her first priority,” Percy’s voice travelled through your family room as he watched your fiancé pick up his daughter. You rolled your eyes crossing your arms as you leaned on the doorjamb that connected your family room to your kitchen, watching as your brother-in-law pouted in disappointment as he plucked his wand from his back pocket, levitating the grocery bags your lover had placed on the ground, and attempting to walk past you into the kitchen. ahem. Percy stopped walking, making a quick turn back to kiss you on the cheek in greeting before continuing on his way into the kitchen, walking slowly as to not upset Grimmur who eyed him from his place on the counter. The kneazle never liked him very much. “Evening [y/n]” “Evening Percival, how was work?” you replied as you glanced back at him before going back to watching your niece excitedly explain her day to your fiancé - she went out to chase a flock of diricawls early this morning while you went around cleaning the multiple gardens Molly insisted be around the house - that and the many beasts enjoyed munching on your plants every now and again; they have absolutely no regard for the consumption of your daisies. “Stressful” he sighed out in a weak voice “Audrey still staying at her mother’s?” you watched from the corner of your eye as he nodded while leaning against the counter, running his hands through his hair, showing how stressed he truly was - I mean, Percy Weasley was playing with his hair while in a kitchen; if Molly could see him now. “Well,” you turned fully towards him as you approached to stand by his side, wrapping your arm around his waist to bring him some comfort. “She’s supposed to be coming by later to pick up Lucy, but I’m sure I could drop by the house and persuade her to let me take MJ for the rest of the weekend before she has the chance.” Percy shifted to gaze down at you in astonishment as Ron and George listened to your conversation from outside the kitchen. “and maybe you can stay over this weekend; you know, just to keep an eye on them while I work on the garden - wouldn’t want them running around without supervision with all of those beasts outside and all.” your rambling continued as all the Weasleys in the house just listened. “With George working on the weekends i would need some help with watching the girls and finishing all the chores i have to do since the property is just massive, you know? Plus i could use the company and none of the older Weasley’s really come over too often so I’m awfully lonely in the days and - ” You were cut off by Percy clinging to you in a tight hug as the feel of a tear hitting your shoulder caused you to freeze. “Oh Percy,” Hugging him back, your fingers ran over his back attempting to calm him down as best as you could in your position. You could hear him whimper and mumble as his tears continued to fall, but you couldn’t make out enough to understand what he had said - whispering softly, you urged him to repeat his phrase. “Its all my fault, I drove her off” his fingers shook as his hands pulled you closer, his arms winding tighter around your waist. “Percy, no you didn’t, we all know how Audrey is - she just can’t handle… uh, well anything for that matter - especially with the tension between Molly and Fleur, and now her” You feel Percy nodding his head against your statement. “Percy, listen to me - everything will turn out as it should, but for now, I’m sure Lucy is driving Ron mad out there or trying to braid George’s hair again” Percy sniffled lightly, a small laugh escaping his lips as his arms loosened around you, quickly squeezing you tightly once more before backing off and rubbing at his eyes and dishevelled hair. “Thank you [y/n],” his voice was low and still a bit warbled, but at least it was discernible. “You don’t need to thank me for that Percy, anybody would’ve done the same,” Percy smiled at you sadly before turning to exit the kitchen, most likely to spend some time with Lucy before Audrey popped in and he had to pop out. A slight whisper escaped him as he exited the kitchen, one that shattered your heart, one that you knew you weren’t supposed to hear. “Maybe in your family, [y/n]. Not in mine.” Raising a hand to cover your mouth, you smothered a gasp, a small whimper escaping the barrier at the absolutely broken look that flickered over Percy’s features. The amount of pain Percy must have been. He’d already gone through so much of his own guilt after Fred passed away, blaming himself for what happened, allowing himself to feel happy again after the war had been nearly impossible - even after he found Aubrey; to see him in such pain again was heart wrenching. George swung open your kitchen door almost immediately after Percy walked out, causing you to turn and lean over the countertop in hopes of him not seeing the tears that had proceeded to slide down your cheeks. “[y/n]? Love?” George’s arms encircled you from behind, his head lowering to press tender kisses along your temple down to your neck, his efforts only getting a meek sigh. listening to your shaky breaths he could easily identify that something had upset you, and you would most likely take a bit of time by yourself to gain some willpower to come to him about it. “That Demiguise canopy you ordered came in,” giggling at your ridiculous husband, you turned in his arms to finally look at him. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the few tears that had fallen and pulling you into a soft hug as you sniffled. “Georgie, we need to talk about this,” you whispered as you shuffled into him, his warmth bringing you the slightest bit of comfort. “There’s nothing to talk about love,” your head snapped up to look at him with an incredulous expression as your voice grew louder. “There’s nothing to talk about?! ” using your hands to push away from George’s chest, your shocked expression stayed the same. “Love, thats not-” “What do you mean there’s nothing to talk about!” “[y/n], it’s not-” “How can you even say something li-” “[Y/N]!” you gazed up at him with large eyes, watching as he inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself. “George…” “That’s not what i meant, love…” you reached up to turn his head towards you as you tried to catch his gaze. “Me and Bill have already talked with everybody; theres still quite a bit of tension from everything that happened before the war with the ministry stuff and during the war…” Silence enveloped the room as your fiancé waited for you to say something; same as you expected of him, not used to being the one to normally fill the void. “…Lucy got into a spot of trouble earlier this afternoon,” you murmured softly after several minutes as more silence washed over the room. George’s body slowly relaxed in your embrace, his breathing levelling off and his gaze finally meeting yours, his voice low and quiet. “What happened?” “Lucy found one of the old firecrackers this morning.” You watched as the corner of his lips twitched; he took a deep breath before leaning back on the counter and pulling you closer by your hips. “And…?” you giggled at the obvious humour and curiosity hidden in your fiancé’s eyes “Grimmur needs a new cat bed…and a trip to the groomer’s,” a massive boisterous laugh escaped your husband as he realized why the cat seemed so hesitant to be around the little girl now. “Is he okay?” George continued to snicker at the obvious distress your kneazle was in this morning. laughing along with your fiancé, you watched as your fiancé smiled and laughed - his mind no longer occupied by the dark thoughts that swirled like fog. “Honestly, i don’t even know,” you leaned your forehead onto your husbands shoulder as you giggled. “i sure hope he’s not too scared - Lucy comes over quite often, and if he doesn’t trust any children, then the Weasley family is gonna have to stop having children!” Taking your chin in-between his thumb and pointer finger, your fiancé raised your head as he studied your face - a smirk building on his face in the process. “I don’t think thats gonna work,” “i - i don’t understand” George rolling his eyes at your oblivious nature and bringing your face even closer to his “Grimmur is gonna have to learn to like kids, cause you’re gonna be stuck in this family and the Weasley line never truly stops,” your fiancé’s gaze was bright and mischievous as his eyes remained locked with yours. “plus, we haven’t even started yet.” “George, we’ve got enough nieces and nephews as it is, right now may not be best time to get pregnant,” “Well, i don’t personally think pregnancy will suit me, maternity clothes and all; that’s why i’ll be the one getting you pregnant.” A smirk on a Weasley’s face was grounds for no good, you knew that personally; especially with George, Ron, or Charlie. “Thats not -“ “Yay! New cousin!” Lucy burst in through the kitchen door running to squeeze herself in-between you and George so that someone would eventually have to lift her up to get her to move. As you looked away from your niece, you caught a glimpse of the only gingers left outside of the kitchen, trying to sneak away- as to not be caught eavesdropping. “Uncle Ron, there’s gonna be another one!” You glanced back at your niece, coddled in George’s arms as she called for her uncle - obviously giving away where they were and what they were doing (though you already knew). Your brother(s)-in-law’s loud whispers carried through the door as they attempted what they thought was being a sneaky conversation. “Merlin’s beard, can’t you teach your kid what a secret is?” “We don’t keep secrets on our side of the family, Ron! It builds bad character,” “Oh ho ho, well you might wanna take a look at the queen of bad character and secretism with Aubrey, Perce!” “RONALD WEASLEY! That is quite enough!” you shouted into the living room, covering Lucy’s ears. Ron’s head peeped around the corner of the kitchen door, looking like a kicked puppy, you could see Percy behind him leaning against the couch with his arms folded across his chest. “But (Y/n)-” “Ron, you take that ‘but’ and drown it in the toilet where it belongs, i don’t wanna hear it,” You were livid, absolutely livid - the sneer across your face would do Professor Snape proud. “I will not have that type of conversation under this roof or so help me, i will remove you from under it myself.” “Sorry, (y/n).” You turned away from your brother-in-law taking Lucy away from George and heading out the kitchen side door into the yard. Sitting on now of the many chairs placed around the yard, you released Lucy from your grip and proceeded to sit and watch as she ran off into the yard, chasing gnomes and fleeing when they decidedly chased back. — You hadn’t known how long you had been out in the yard for, but it was long enough for the sun to start setting and Lucy to curl up in your lap after wearing herself out. Shifting her more comfortably into your arms, you apparated to Aubrey’s temporary residence, convincing her to allow you to take MJ back with you - along with a fresh set of clothes for both girls - before apparating both the girls back to the house. You settled both the girls into one of the many guest rooms - this one specifically for when the kids came over, furnished with an extra thick carpet for accidental tumbles, a bunk bed by the window, and a chest filled with an unimaginable amount of toys for all the weasley kids - no matter the age range. Walking back down the hallways of your own house had never made you feel so tired. Your head pounded as the wood creaked, and your entire body just felt stiff and sluggish. Opening the door to your master bedroom, you immediately took some clothes out of your dresser, dressing quickly before curling up in your bed. You slowly drifted into sleep, the quiet atmosphere soothing the pulsing ache in your head and easing your frustrations. You were startled out of your thoughts when the opposite side of the bed sunk down slowly, the feel of the covers shifting and being tugged away from you making you whine in tired discomfort. No sooner had the sound left your lips, did George stop tugging on the comforter before sliding in behind you. Yet again, you and George were plunged into silence. “I talked to Ron,” Glancing back in his general direction out of the corner of your eyes, you waited for him to continue speaking; when it became obvious he hadn’t planned to continue, you grunted lightly. “He says he won’t say anything around you or in the house; but thats all i could get him to agree to.” Rolling over, your eyes gazed over him, taking in his tired appearance; knowing it was partially your fault that George seemed so stressed. Reaching out, you ran your thumb over the back of his hand, coaxing him to look down at you. “you’re doing all you can to keep your family together, and keep me happy at the same time,” your grip tightened as you pulled him down on the bed, closer to you, “don’t think for a single second that you aren’t doing enough; because you being here is already more than I could I ever ask of you.” Leaning up towards George, you met half way, lightly brushing your lips against his. “You are all I want Georgie, don’t ever think otherwise.”

[daysixdreams]

you bite and hold on until we all fall down | Sungjin [1/2]

you gotta see blood, girl

flangst, supernatural mystery, paranormal romance | ~5.6k words | werewolf!au | Blood  | Part Two

prompt: Hey can I get a werewolf!au for sungjin where he and the reader are in a forbidden relationship??? Please let it be as angsty and fluffy as possible!!!😉☺Thanks so much!!!☺😊😙  - requested by @taespiration

a/n: hope you like it? I took a few liberties with the werewolf aspect but i hope it still works? let me know what you guys think =) part 2 will be up next week. ish. 

“I hope there isn’t anywhere else you need to be,” I say as soon as Sungjin appears from the street corner. He’s dressed as usual: scuffed sneakers, dark grey jeans torn at the knees, black shirt, and that leather jacket he’s grown a liking to recently. As have I. It will be a sad day for humanity when the weather warms and to the back of the closet the jacket goes. Or maybe not. Summer does have its wardrobe perks.

He grunts and scrunches his nose. “You mean at eleven in the evening on a Friday night? Where else would I be?”

Clearing my head of the image of exposed collar bones and knees, I gesture toward the dark alley without explanation. Mostly because I don’t have a good one, but that does allow me to receive an unbiased opinion.

Sungjin turns to me with a barely stifled grimace. “Another dead body. Why am I not surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You only call me when someone’s dead.”

“Oh, come on,” I contest weakly, “I call you for other things, too.”

Cleansing the city of evil is not the one-person job my ancestors liked to think it is. Especially when murder is involved. Even less so when you’re the only openly practicing witch in the country willingly offering your services to a special unit law enforcement agency for a consulting fee. Extra difficulty points when you’re next in line to inherit the responsibility of protecting the city. Raise that to the power of nine when you’ve spent your formative schooling years and part of your early adult life in another country studying for said witchcraft degree, thus alienating you from the culture and heritage you were born in.

Hence, Sungjin.

The incidental fact that Sungjin is a Lycanthrope is a happy coincidence I just happen to benefit from. Unlike a shifter, he doesn’t transform into a wolf neither through magic— his own or someone else’s— or through a curse via the rise of the full moon. Physically, Sungjin is human, indistinguishable from any other regular person— at least on the surface. On the inside, he’s a little more unique. Born as a natural channel for a spirit of rage, Sungjin houses a Wolf spirit, an alpha that makes him stronger, more aggressive, and resistant to physical damage and disease.

This means I get to walk around undetected with a guide/bodyguard. Heavy on the guidance, light on the bodyguarding. Sungjin knows I’m more than capable of defending myself. It’s embarrassing myself and doing something I shouldn’t that he’s worried about. And fine, I may have a history of getting myself into life-threatening situations but that doesn’t minimize or invalidate my skill. It just means that sometimes, I can’t go into these things alone.

Sungjin steps into the alley, and with the light of the full moon, large and silver, overhead, our shadows cast long and gangly on the concrete. I follow closely behind him extending my Sense. The easiest way to explain what Sense is is to liken it to an awareness of the paranormal and the supernatural, it’s not simply seeing, hearing, or feeling more the way Sungjin can. It’s that weird ghost of a feeling that makes the hair at the back of your arm stand on end, that niggling that you’ve forgotten something, and that odd just knowing something isn’t quite right.

“What do you think?” I ask. It’s never good when Sungjin takes this long to assess the crime scene. His heightened senses help cover what my Sense fails to catch— which is very little but ever since that one time with the raining frogs, Sungjin’s made this rule about never running into a scene until after he’s cleared the vicinity. I do as he says because you really don’t want a Lycan’s rage directed at you.

Further in, the expression on his face pulls into a mix of concern and confusion. “Well, whatever it is, it’s not good.”

The smell reaches us first, a sickly-sewer smell, rank and metallic. I knew it was a dead body even before I crossed the street, felt the void taking a life left behind in the energies surrounding the area, but I’m never prepared for it. My stomach quails and I press my palm against my mouth to keep from gagging. Up ahead, is blood. A lot of blood. It pooled thick and scarlet around a mound of bodies, two of them, both with their ribcages expanding outward like their hearts had exploded right out of their chests. I sway backwards despite my strict training and the walls of self-control I’ve built. Sungin’s hand, just barely touching the small of my back, anchors me to the present.

“You okay?”

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Yeah,” I answer, voice steadier than I thought it would be. I don’t ask how he’s doing even if I see the tightness in his jaw and the strain in his eyes. Sungjin hates showing vulnerability, and the last thing I want is to tell him I notice he’s not okay. On that vein, I right myself before I fall into his arm or something ridiculous like it. With his senses turned up to eleven, being touched becomes an unpleasant experience for him. I can’t imagine what it’s like for him now, seeing all this, smelling all this, experiencing all this and just being here at all. “Can you get anything useful?” I ask. “Do you think you can track...anything?”

“I’ll try. But we need to take a closer look before the local police arrive and process the scene.”

And then we’re out of the loop. Human crime scene units don’t exactly cooperate with, or are even aware of, the High Council of Elders that govern the Others— Magic folk, every other sentient being not quite your strain of plain regular human, you get the picture.

Sungjin and I circle the scene carefully, noting down all the details we can as fast as we could. I can remember most of the details, look back in my memories for whatever I can’t recall immediately, and cross-reference with Sungjin should the need arise.

“What do you think?” Sungjin asks.

“I don’t know, we’ll need more information. But something like this can’t be a crime of opportunity. There’s too much involved in making someone’s heart explode like that.”

“So that’s what you’re saying? Their hearts exploded? What about the defensive wounds?”

“I can’t explain the defensive wounds right now, but exploding hearts is the only way to explain why their ribs look like they were pried open from the inside. This is really powerful magic. We’re looking for a very specific individual and I might have ideas where to start asking around.”

Like me, Sungjin isn’t looking at the bodies anymore, both of us with our heads turned away and leaning toward the main street. “I’ll see what I can find. I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

I nod and we go our separate ways just as the lights from a patrol car pass by.

 ***

 The following morning, Sungjin drops by the bookstore just before lunch to exchange notes and updates. He comes into the shop, announced by the bright tinkle of the bell above the door, with a large brown bag of sandwiches and coffee, and a smile that rivals the sun. When he’s like this, dressed in a warm grey hoodie and denim jeans, it’s easy to forget he’s a natural born killer trained for the hunt.

“Hello?”

“Up the loft,” I answer. I’ve been looking through the old texts and reference scrolls for anything that might be useful for tracking down what kind of magic is needed to blow someone’s hearts up.

Needless to say, the bookstore is a cover. On the outside, it’s a 24-hour off-the-wall kitschy affair just off-campus. Your non-standard independent bookstore. You’d think 24-hour bookstore equates to study cafe or a euphemism for something, but it’s exactly what it says on the label. On the inside, it’s an actual bookstore with shelves lined so closely to each other the ends fade into each other’s shadows. The inventory is eclectic: used books in excellent condition, the nigh unheard of trade books, and nothing from the Top Anythings. Just a lot of books that make you feel like you’ve walked into a wizarding world. And it smells. Like old books, wood varnish, and bergamot that’s permeated through the old walls. The guy who takes the nightshift, Jae, loves it. 

“Find anything interesting?” Sungjin asks, climbing up the narrow spiral staircase.

I’m on the ladder, about a full storey up, retrieving a book on Thaumaturgy. The way the shelves are set, dizzyingly high and looming above, always make me think I’m climbing into another world unknown. I’m fairly certain the air is thinner up here, too. “I think so? I might have some ideas. And you didn’t have to bring me lunch.”

“I didn’t,” he deadpans. “Wonpil made me do it.”

Wonpil is his housemate, information I know of as a side effect of having worked with Sungjin for more than a year now. I’m not sure what Wonpil is exactly as we’ve never met, but the way Sungjin talks about him gives me the impression Wonpil isn’t human. Or at least he gives Sungjin an inhuman amount of mental stress.

I crane my neck to look at him from over my shoulder. I almost fall off, and Sungjin rolls his eyes at me. “Did you hear anything interesting from your network?”

He sets the paper bag on a work desk. “Get down from there before you fall. And then we’ll talk.”

“Let me get this book first.” With one hand, I’m holding on for dear life, while my other is pressed white on the lip of a shelf. I spot the spine of the book I’m looking for and lean until my fingertips graze the old leather. Obviously, the solution here is to go back down the ladder, move about an arm’s length to the left, and go back up to retrieve the book. But, no. I lean.

It all happens so fast. First, there I am leaning. Next, my finger catches the edge of the book dislodging it from the shelf, but only just so. Then the books are whizzing past me in a blur of colorful spines and the floor is zooming in at me in alarming speed. Before I know it, I’m landing in a tangle of limbs with the air knocked out of my lungs in a muffled oomph. The fall hurts, but not as much as it does on the inside.

Sungjin catches me, of course. Inhuman reflexes and all that. I look up just as he lifts his head to give me his most insufferable I told you so look. The fact that he is right is only secondary to the fact that I am sprawled on top of him— my nose on top of his chest, his hands on my upper arms, my knees splayed over his hips, and my eyes hovering over his parted lips. For a moment, I am distracted by his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he swallows. I know it’s taking him all his strength to make sure he’s not crushing me in his hands. Only Sungjin would take the impact of a fall and ask you if him saving you is hurting you. I look up and our eyes meet.

This is not the time for this, and yet it’s as if we are both frozen in the moment. Sungjin’s eyes are a deep, earthy brown with flecks of gold revealing the beast within. Yet when he’s looking at me like this, there is nothing but warmth and safety in his eyes. He’s afraid he’ll hurt me, but he’s the only person I trust to never do that. He thinks he’s a monster, but I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him as anything but brutally soft. Like this, feeling the warmth of the soft fabric of his hoodie against me, and inhaling his clean oceany scent, it’s almost as if I can just be a girl, and he can just be a boy, and there could be something more. But in this world, attachment is both a vulnerability and a weakness. Sungjin and I, we have no room for anything but duty and honor-bound responsibility.

Sobered by the thought, my heart comes to a stop from its wild beating in my chest. It’s an easy roll to the side and we’re back up on our feet, both of us feigning nonchalance. I pick the book up from the floor, silently muttering an apology to the book deities watching over us.

“There aren’t a lot of ways someone can make someone’s heart explode,” I begin, “So we’re looking for someone really strong or really stupid. Definitely a wizard. Definitely premeditated. That kind of magic...” I shudder at the thought. “It’s dark. And angry.”

“And it’s personal.”

“Very.”

Magic in itself is a personal experience. It comes from inside you. Not everyone is born with the aptitude to tap into the energies of the universe to harness its power, and even for those who do it’s hard to explain. Magic isn’t just something you do. Magic is the flow of energy from one form to another, it can neither be created nor destroyed, only redirected and transformed. Magic is created by life, it is awareness, intelligence, and emotions. For magic to cause death, and in such a violent way, is the utter perversion of its very nature.

Through lunch, Sungjin fills me in with the information he’s gathered over the night and I update him with what I’ve found out so far. All in all, we know nothing about who could have done this, how, or even why. Only that the victims were two university students, a couple celebrating their first anniversary at the club. Witnesses say they were arguing, but what kind of argument would explain the kind of defensive wounds they had? They had been in a fist fight before their hearts exploded.

After lunch, Sungjin and I comb through our known networks and contacts through the Underground and the Magic Folk hiding in plain sight. We visit clubs and other establishments that catered to Others but find nothing. The old antique shop near the palace, always the source of local gossip and whispers offer us no new information, saying they heard nothing, know nothing of any dark magic being used around the city. No one seems to know anything about what’s going on. Which only means everyone knows about it but no one wants to talk about it.

“You’re asking about something that could get you killed,” the old pigeon lady by the church said to us. “I’d stay away from those deaths if I were you.”

Which only meant we had to work harder finding answers. This is easily becoming one of those days when neither Sungjin nor I feel much like useful members of the Magic World’s secret society of Guardians. At least for me, that’s the role I was born into. For Sungjin, his participation is by association. But he hasn’t abandoned me. Yet. Even on the days when we look and look and look and find nothing. All this magic and resource under our disposal, there exist days when we still come up with blanks.

“Do you want to take a break?” Sungjin asks just before sunset.

“I hate this,” I answer.

We’re strolling down a busy thoroughfare down a strip mall. Everywhere I look, it’s colors from fashion boutiques or cosmetics, or from stalls selling street food. The smells are the best part of this, sweet and spicy all together and all at once. The better food smells, the more likely it’s bad for you. Be it sugar or meat or something cooked in fat and oils. It’s life’s greatest irony. But then again, who knows. Maybe this is the sign from someone out there watching over us saying we don’t have to diet all the time. So I take it all in, the scent of food, perfumes, air conditioning, and a hint of beer and alcohol. I love my sense of smell.

You nose knows. I’m sure Sungjin would agree.

“How can folks not know anything? What are they so afraid of?” I say, resigning myself to the twilight. “Dark magic like that doesn’t go unnoticed. I felt it happen. You felt traces of it too, didn’t you?”

Sungjin nods somberly. “Whoever was there with them didn’t leave enough of themselves to track down. I’m starting to think our killer did this from afar. Which leaves a magic trace. And tracking down magic is your specialty.”

“I’m good but I’m not that good. There was barely a trace left. No dust or breadcrumbs to follow at all.”

He releases a small laugh from his chest. “Come on, I’ll buy you an ice cream. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Catching the killer will make me feel better.” But even as I say that, I follow Sungjin to a stall and pick out the flavors I want on my cone: strawberry, milk, and green tea. The girl behind the glass case carves the ice cream into a rose and hands it to Sungjin who hands it to me.

“This is for you,” he says with a smile so tender, I look away.

I don’t dwell on the split second our fingers touch, or on the lingering heat from where the rough pad of his fingertips come in contact with my knuckles. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

A blanket of awkward silence envelopes us, and I struggle to fill in the blank spaces. All those other nights with Sungjin, tracking a bad guy or searching for clues, not once did the silence bother me until tonight.

I clear my throat after he gets a cone of his own. “Is it just me, or are there more flowers than usual?” Specifically roses. Red roses. Single, long-stemmed red roses or large bouquets of red roses. Couples everywhere wearing matchy-matchy outfits.

Sungjin grunts and scratches the back of his ear. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?” I scrunch my nose at the group of couples who pass by us. This place is known to have couples in varying states of lovey-doveyness everywhere, but something about tonight has them all extra ooshy and ugh.

“It’s Valentine's Day.”

“That’s today?”

“You seriously don’t know?”

“I don’t keep track of these things,” I counter, annoyed. “I can barely keep track of what I need to accomplish in a day and this case...it’s driving me crazy.”

Sungjin just hums and keeps walking alongside me.

“I’m serious. Besides, look at all these people. They look like they’ve all been brainwashed into celebrating the day when what’s there to celebrate? It’s all so...I don’t know. Fake. And manufactured.”

“If you say so.”

“Wait, is there somewhere you need to be tonight?” Like a date. I don’t pry into his personal life, only picking out the details he’s comfortable sharing, blurted out confessions I wasn’t meant to hear, habits I find out only because we tend to spend inordinate amounts of downtime together like this. Of course, he’s free to see people if he wants to. He probably should.

“I’m exactly where I need to be because if you die in a ditch, this city loses its last Guardian and I don’t think the High Council will appreciate that.”

“I won’t die in a ditch,” I mutter petulantly. “And you need a life. You should probably go find yourself a girlfriend or something. I mean, I’m a lost cause because, well, Guardian and all that applies, but you…”

“You and I both know that’s physically impossible for me.” Because he’d be too much. Feel too much. Give too much.

I shrug. “Maybe you’ll find someone who’s fine without being physical? There are all sorts of people in the world. Or maybe you’ll find another Lycan and you won’t be so afraid to touch her for fear of tearing her into pieces—” I pause mid-step and hold back a war cry.

“You just had an epiphany, didn’t you.”

I start down the street in a power walk just below the level of a jog, acceptable enough without rousing suspicion. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before.”

“Good. Now this time use your words and share with the rest of the class.”

“Those two students must have been possessed by a Horror.” Horrors are amorphous blobs of pure negativity, parasites that possess objects that in turn posses humans and Turn them into shapeshifting monsters. Part of my job is hunting down these pools of evil and eliminating them before they find a host and wreak havoc. Yes, my ancestors decided this is a one-person job. I may be magic, but I’m still only human.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t they Turn? They were human when we found them.”

“I don’t know yet,” I admit. Then, “That’s what we’re about to find out. We need to get back to that club.”

 ***

 Sungjin and I make it halfway to the club when I realize we’re being followed.

The trick to this is to keep yourself from reacting. Stay cool. Calm. “Could be just me, but I think someone might be following us.”

Sungjin doesn’t even raise a brow and his face is almost always out of his control. “Tall guy, black coat, face mask, sunglasses? I’ve seen him all day, I think. But considering this is standard Look at me, I’m cool look, who knows for sure.”

“You would know for sure,” I shoot back, “I’ve seen him just standing there trying really hard to make it look like he’s not watching us. And he has a very distinct set of piercings.” I notice these things now because Sungjin also has a very distinct set of piercings that are utterly fascinating to study if only it weren’t so inappropriate.

“It’s not like there’s anything we can do about it,” he offers, “Everyone’s out tonight, there are about a bajillion people on the street and when we get to the club, that’s two bajillion people.”

“You know, the sass? It doesn’t help. But fine, if that’s how you want to play it.”

“You can’t just go whacking people around,” he chides, “besides, what if it’s not that? Maybe he wants to ask you out tonight. He looks lonely.”

I snort. I happen to be good at whacking people, and other sort, around. It’s very effective. “Maybe he wants to ask you out tonight.”

“Well I am pretty good looking, aren’t I? Can’t really blame him.”

“Your confidence astounds me.”

“As it should. Let’s just play it by ear and see what happens.”

 ***

 A shiver runs down the back of my arm as soon as we reach the club’s vicinity. It’s a tactile feeling owing to my witching Sense. Nighttime always did amplify powers from creatures of the dark, and while Night and Day themselves are neither good nor evil, there’s something about the shadows and the moonlight that make things go bump in the night.

Sungjin and I drift around, our Cool Friend always at a respectable distance behind us. The club, called Daydream, is located underground with the entrance located in a narrow alley between two commercial buildings. You’d miss it if not for the long line of people, about fifty or so, waiting impatiently along the street. This section of the city is full of university students, another kitschy affair of the fashion forward, the nonconformists, and the otherwise artistically inclined. It was full of excited yelling, raucous high-pitched laughter, and music blaring from every imaginable direction. Lights flashed and danced, buskers filled the streets each of them inside their bubbles of merry chaos.

I feel it then, a near unnoticeable quiver like a metallic ping from an unplugged electric guitar. Stepping closer to the club amplified the feeling. Something is definitely going on in there. I can feel it in the thrum of the music and the concrete beneath my feet.

Sensing the change in my tension, Sungjin says “Something’s here, isn’t there.”

“Something for sure. How’s our friend?”

Sungjin inhales sharply and his eyes flash amber. “Still interested. I’m not entirely sure if he’s following us because he’s looking for what we’re looking for, or if he’s following us to make sure we don’t find what we’re looking for.”

“If only we knew what we were looking for.”

Sungjin rolls his shoulders. A gesture of frustration. “Only one way to find out.”

We don’t have to communicate the decision out loud. Sungjin and I are already on our way toward the back of the club to find an alternative entrance. The back of the building is dark with shadows the light of the full moon cannot reach. I keep my guard up, just in case. Next to me, I can feel Sungjin do the same, his now amber eyes alert for any physical danger. Just knowing he’s with me, feeling his calm assured strength around me, is more than enough to rest my fears.

Because no matter how long I’ve been doing this, no matter how much training I’ve endured to get to where I am or how confident I am of what I can do, it doesn’t change the fact that every day I risk my life and that I’m afraid of death.

But not as long as Sungjin is with me.

“Just stay close to me,” Sungjin mutters close to my ear.

“I’m not a child,” I shoot back, voice steadier than I expect. “I’m a trained witch. And Guardian of the City. I’m not helpless. I can defend myself.”

“I know,” he says patiently. “That’s why I said stay close to me. Did you ever consider that I need defending? You’re not the only one putting your life in danger here. Don’t be selfish.”

I stifle a smile. Now is not the time for this. “We’re just going into a club. With dancing. Do you like dancing?”

“I’m an epic dancer,” he says, leveling me with a look. “But we can go dancing some other time when there isn’t a probability of some kind of murderer or Horror in the club.”

We step in through the back door, me first then Sungjin behind me. Music blasts at us, a deep psychedelic trance mix all the patrons are swaying to. The bassline goes straight to my bones, anchoring the music to time and pulling me deeper into the pit. Like a hive-minded organism, the moshpit flails and writhes to the hypnotic beat and neon lights. Everywhere the strobe hits, it’s body to body, eyes closed and gyrating against each other. We tread carefully through the darkness, avoiding elbows and other extremities while navigating our way to the center of the dance floor. On stage is a DJ shrouded by the shadows, but it’s from there I feel the center of this dark energy. No wonder this club is so popular.

“Anything?” I ask Sungjin. I have to stand on tiptoe and tug at his sleeve so he’d lean closer for me to speak into his ear. I don’t even need light to know his ear’s probably flushed neon pink.

“Nothing you haven’t figured out yet.”

I don’t let go of his sleeve. “Is our friend still here?”

Sungjin closes his eyes and hums. “Shouldn’t you be tracking his energy signature?”

Stepping closer, I lay my other hand on his chest. His heartbeat is slow and steady in this sultry heat. My heart starts beating faster. “Sungjin…”

“Yeah?”

I look up at him, and my fingers curl and tangle into the collar of his hoodie. “You’ve been really good to me. No one’s been this good to me.”

His breathy laugh tickles my cheek. “That’s because you don’t know a lot of people.”

“You risk your life for me.”

“According to my last count, we’re split 60-40, but I’ll give you a chance to save my life if that will make you feel better,” he answers quietly.

I lick my lips. “You and me…we’ve never really...we’re not a we-we.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Why not? I know we’ve only known each other for a little more than a year, but after all we’ve been through? How come nothing’s ever...happened?”

“Reasons,” he exhales softly. “Work, mostly. And I am what I am, and…” He runs his nose down my cheek. “And you...it wouldn’t be right.”

I shift just enough to touch my nose to his. “But...technically...we could...if we wanted to. Even if it were forbidden, it’s so easy breaking the rules…”

“Are we deciding to?”

I push up on my toes and press my lips to his. Gently, at first. Very gently. Sungjin sighs into the kiss and pulls my body against his and I entwine my arms around his neck. The kiss turns hungry, deep. Hot and desperate. Sungjin all but growls into my mouth.

He pulls away first. “We’re working.”

“We’re always working,” I whine. “It’s all we ever do.”

He grins. “Doesn’t look like we’re getting more information out of tonight. We’ve been hitting dead ends from the start.”

“We can take a break for the night, right?” I feel a rumble of excitement deep inside me.

“We could. We should. We’ve been working too much.”

My face splits into a smile before I’m even aware. “We deserve a break, right? Why haven’t we thought about this before?”

“Can we go back to your place?”

I giggle into his collar bones. My heart is beating so fast. I can’t remember if it’s ever gone off this way before. “Sounds like a really good idea. You always did have the best of ideas.”

We start moving again, this time toward the exit. Hand in hand, we slip through the moshpit laughing silly at each other. When we emerge back out the alley, he kisses me again, pressing me hard against him.

“Sungjin,” I wheeze between the kiss. “Let go a bit, you’re crushing me.”

“I just can’t believe we’ve never done this before.”

“I know, it’s crazy.” It’s so crazy my heart hurts.

“I think I’m crazy.”

“Sungjin, let go. I can’t breathe.” But his hold on me tightens and my feet lift off the ground. I push against him. “You’re hurting me.”

Sungjin blinks and lets go so quickly I drop to my feet on unstable legs. He runs his hand through his hair and mutters to himself. “What just happened? Something happened.”

I look up, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Something weird is happening.”

I feel a sledgehammer in my chest. “Something good is happening. Why are you making it sound like it’s a bad thing?”

“I’m not saying that, I’m just saying...look at us.”

“I am.” I take a step closer to him. “I am looking at us. Don’t you like what you’re seeing? How long have you felt this way? And pretended not to? Denied the feeling? Because...this doesn’t just come out of nowhere. There could be something real here.”

“Listen to yourself.”

I launch myself at him and shove him as hard as I can. My heart hurts so much. He doesn’t even budge so I hit his chest with my fists. “You can’t just do this to me. You can’t tell me you don’t think we have something here that could be real. I’m not crazy!”

But even as I say that, the words bounce around in my head. Real. Crazy.

“Oh,” I groan. “Oh no.” My heart is still beating fast, but this time it’s from embarrassment.

“Hey, it’s okay. We got hit with something, maybe it was the lights or the music…”

“Oh no.”

Sungjin smiles warmly at me. “Hey. It’s okay. I got hit, too.”

Until his trigger words slapped sense into him. “I should’ve known better.”

“You’re right. I should’ve too…I shouldn’t have...you know. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” I tell him. I clutch at my chest to calm my beating heart. “It wasn’t us. If it were...it would’ve been…”

“Different?”

“Yeah. Not like this.”

He nods. “It was a little too easy.”

“Shouldn’t it be easy?” I may not know much about love, but I know I’ll know it when I feel it. I’ll know it when it’s there...and it’s been there. But...

“Not for you and me.”

I take a deep, shaky breath. “How messed up is that?”

“Pretty messed up. You know for someone’s who’s tasked to keep the city safe, you’re terrible at avoiding traps. Physical, or otherwise.”

He looks away when I turn to him, and I study his averted face. “That’s why I have you.” And that’s why we can’t have each other.

A cold shiver passed through the air. Dark and twisted. Sungjin glances at me, and the color drains from both our faces. We run down the direction of the void and careen to a stop.

Two more dead bodies, a couple with their hearts blown out of their chests. Exactly like the first murder.

[tamagofanatic]

Rainy Days

Guess who’s back lol. It’s been very rainy here in the desert.

Maybe it was because she lived right next door. Or the fact that she listened to their music and sang along in the most tone deaf manner. Or maybe the early alarms she would set for herself to make sure she would get to school on time. Maybe it was the way she would stand in the apartment corridor, staring out at the open space when it rained. The dreamy yet calm look on her face. He could always remember the time when she first introduced herself to them.

She had locked herself out of her own house and had asked Seungcheol, who at home at the time, if she could stay until the landlady came back at night. Seungcheol, who had only seen her a few times here and there, treated her very kindly, asking her to make herself comfortable and to ignore the mess as 13 boys were living under the one roof.  The rest of the members were at the company building, practicing or out and about. Seungcheol got called to the company building and entrusted the house to her, forgetting to tell her that there was someone sleeping in one of the rooms. 

Jihoon was obviously shocked when he came out to find a stranger girl sitting on their couch, watching the TV comfortably. He had threatened to call the police when Seungcheol returned home, surprised at the tension. Jihoon was terribly confused when she greeted Seungcheol, walking over to him and apologizing for imposing before leaving. The elder grumbled to Jihoon about scaring off such a cute girl and Jihoon felt guilty. He waited on the stairs by the lift for her to come back after the landlady helped her unlock her house and had told Jihoon that the girl had gone out for a bit.

The ping of the lift scared him a bit but he looked up to see the same girl, sleepily trudging to her house with bags of groceries. She yawned as she reached her door, having trouble lifting her arm to open the door due to the heavy groceries. She was surprised when the weight seemed to lighten and another hand reaching out to open the door for her. She looked up to see Jihoon smiling awkwardly at her, mumbling about helping her. She couldn’t help but smile and nod, allowing him inside. It wasn’t messy but it wasn’t completely neat either. She apologized however, taking the groceries from him and replacing it with a can of soft drink. She asked for his name, which he gave after slight hesistation and she introduced herself with a sweet smile. Maybe it was then that he started to fall for her.

 After that, he would often see her going to school as he headed for practice with the boys. They would usually return at ungodly hours in the morning but he would know she was awake from the muffled music that played from her apartment. He would never forget the time he found her in her most beautiful state.

“Wah, it’s really raining hard today,” Mingyu stated, glancing at the window. Jihoon merely hummed as he shuffled through the papers of lyrics on the coffee table.

“Oh? What is she doing?” the younger pondered and Jihoon stopped his work, looking up slowly at his band member.

“What?”

“The girl next door, she’s just leaning against the railing watching the rain.”  He stated matter-of-factly and the elder bounced out of his seat to the door. He could see her from the peep hole and opened the door as quietly as he could to not attract any attention. Her face was looking upwards as the rain thundered down in front of her, the wind blowing it into her face and yet she looked undeterred. She sighed contently, wiping her face before stretching out. A soft smile settled as she rested her arms on the railing, laying her head on them. He was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear the lift reach his level as his band members alighted. Soonyoung seemed to notice his friend, frozen in place by the door, his body facing the direction of their cute neighbor.

“Yah Jihoon!” He called out purposely, smirking as the girl turned to the sound causing his friend to blush and look towards him. “Were you waiting for us?” he asked teasingly, although his facial features suggested otherwise. Jihoon blushed, mumbling an agreement of sorts but they both turned when the girl chuckled, pushing back against the railings.

“It must be nice to have so many people to talk to,” she told them and Jihoon’s features seemed to soften at her bittersweet tone. Soonyoung looked from his friend to the girl before stepping next to Jihoon, wrapping his arm around him.

“You can join us for dinner tonight then,” he suggested and Jihoon looked up at him in surprise. “That way you can talk to many people!”

Jihoon turned to the girl only to see sparkling eyes and an innocent smile.

“Really?”

“Yea why not,” Seungcheol stated suddenly, standing by the doorway with a grin. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour so we’ll see you then?”

She nodded excitedly and grinned before rushing back into her apartment to get ready.

“You’re welcome,” Soonyoung chirped, winking at his blushing friend as he entered the apartment.

 Jihoon looked down at his lap as she shifted, her head turning to face up towards him. He removed his earphones, keeping it aside. She hummed sleepily, rubbing her eye as she looked up at him.

“Jihoon?” she called out softly and he hummed in reply, running his hand through her hair. Her ears picked up the familiar sound of pitter patter on the windows and she smiled, turning to face his tummy.

“It’s raining isn’t it?”  He looked out the window, smiling at the grey clouds and the rain splattered windows.

“You bet.”

“I love the rain,” she mumbled sleepily, sitting up to stretch. She looked out the window and Jihoon watched as the same dreamy smile he first fell in love with, graced her face. The flash of lightning, followed by the deep rumble of thunder only made her giggle as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“You know,” she started softly. Jihoon looked down at her briefly and hummed to prove his attention on her. “I first fell in love with you on a rainy day like this.” She confessed and the boy’s eyes widened as she sat up.

“What?”

“It was about 2am-ish. It was raining heavily and I had just been crying from stress and all that,” she stated, looking down at the sheets. “So to calm myself down, I sat by my doorway with just the gate shut and watched the heavy rain falling against the dark sky.”

Jihoon shifted, moving closer to her.

“It was gravely silent until I heard a door nearby open and leaned out to see you sneaking out of the apartment with your guitar. You sat on the steps that led to the door and looked out to the dark, rainy, morning sky and sighed.” She recounted, glancing at him. He displayed a look of extreme interest and nostalgia as the memory of that day entered his mind.

“I couldn’t get any inspiration to compose that day,” he explained, running a hand through his hair. “I had been up all night trying out different beats and such but it didn’t seem right.”

“I could tell,” she replied and he looked to her gently smiling face. “But then you started strumming and it was so beautiful. Your eyes followed your fingers as it plucked the strings to make that sweet harmony that I fell in love with. The gentle look on your face as you did what you loved was what made me fall in love with you.”

He smiled, pulling her down on the bed for a hug.

“Thank you for telling me.” He whispered. “I fell in love with you on a day like this too. Remember the day that Soonyoung invited you to dinner at our place?” he asked and she nodded. “I was actually watching you look at the clouds. Your calm expression made me feel so at ease and yet made my heart pound so hard against my chest that I couldn’t say anything when we made eye contact.” He smiled as you giggled.

“Well then, I guess rainy days aren’t as bad as people say they are,” he mused and she nodded in agreement.

“If not for a rainy day, I would have never fell for you.”

“And I, you. Now let’s go to sleep. This cold rainy weather always makes me feel cuddly.” He said teasingly, pulling her close to him as the rain outside continued to pour down on the city.