#i was going and asking girls for decorations for the alter who i was told had stuff

[jewishrizahawkeye]

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[cosmicvenusnebula]

⋆☾⋆ System Ask Game - Our Answers ⋆☾⋆

I got the prompts from this post by @starrynightzcollective

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

⋆☾⋆ Part 1 ⋆☾⋆

✩ We do not have any face claims, but we are wanting to find some <3

✩ I think our collective theme song is any Feel Good Inc by Gorillaz or Family by Mother Mother

✩ Our only voice claim is Zhongli's voice from Genshin Impact (claimed by our Zhongli fictive ofc)

✩ We view all our alters as family, but we have a couple different littles that have siblings

✩ I don't know how to answer this question lmao

.....

⋆☾⋆ Part 2 ⋆☾⋆

✩ All our fictives find comfort or identity security in their source (For the most part)

✩ Our only fictive that split from trauma feels like he IS his source, but he isn't stuck in those feelings.

✩ Our Zhongli fictive remembers the Archon War, despite us never consuming any media about it (other than what the game explains)

✩ We aren't really interested in source mates, but I think its a cool idea :)

✩ Zhongli is the only fictive that looks (almost) exactly like his source, the rest of them look very different, but still some form of their source.

.....

⋆☾⋆ Part 3 ⋆☾⋆

✩ Our headspace does have layers, but it's constantly in the void. I (the host) have constant amnesia around our headspace.

✩ Our headspace is very large, it has smaller rooms, but it's basically a mansion that gets bigger pretty frequently.

✩ The headspace already existed when I started questioning my system hood.... but then I got front stuck for like a year because of the shock so a lot of shit changed.

✩ Our headspace has changed countless times. We change the layout and decor whenever we get tired of the old ones, or when we don't feel at home in it anymore.

✩ Each of our alters have their own rooms, and then have their void domains for when they need to be dormant/unreachable.

.....

⋆☾⋆ Part 4 ⋆☾⋆

✩ We were 15 when we first started figuring it out, 16 when we were diagnosed. Currently 17.

✩ I was the host, and I am still the host. We had some co-hosts too. - Venus

✩ Yes, our main protector (who was formally a persecutor) is now the dada/caregiver for a couple of our littles. Many other roles have been changed, but thats the most dramatic role transformation.

✩ I discovered I might be a system when I saw the Anthony Padilla interview with DissociaDID. Since then we have been big fans of both of them, and DissociaDID is a big reason our discovery went so smoothly.

✩ The only clear signs we had was the sudden switch of fawn response to anger and tossing our abuser to the ground as a 12 year old girl, our anger holders were responsible for our physical safety when he came after us. Also the amount of times I've been told I said or did something that I have absolutely no memory of. Or the amount of times I thought I was stupid/crazy because I couldn't hold onto memories without physical proof of them. Or how I had random convo's going on and I would be like "Must be daydreaming"

This is the biggest sign though. I found a paper we drew on when we were little that had the name of our main protector.... who did it? No idea. I think its because he started processing that he existed once he split

[hajimsblog]

Indigo felt a great sense of dread. Ever since he had... Returned, he had been itching to help people again. Sure, he had enjoyed being with his child again, and her odd husband, but he craved normalcy. Even though he knew this, Indigo didn't dare say anything. It wasn't until Iowa's massive husband spoke, did his desire to work again get revealed.

"Mr. Morada, is there something wrong?"

The poor man nearly jumped out of his seat, as Marcus almost never directly spoke to him. That was usually for the best, as Marcus scared the hell out of him. Indigo didn't want to question his daughter's choices, but why a literal demon?!

Indigo sucked in a breath and looked into the golden eyes of his step son.

"I'm... Not sure what you mean?"

"You're not satisfied with your life here, are you?"

Indigo swallowed hard and tried not to actively tremble in front of the man before him. Marcus always seemed amused whenever he was able to *get* to Indigo.

"Is there something you'd rather do? Is reuniting with your daughter not good enough for you?"

"MARCUS!"

Marcus's teasing is cut off by his wife slapping his back. The man visibly shrinks, as if ashamed by his actions.

"Don't be mean to Dad! He's sensitive," the short woman says with a pout. Marcus dwarfed her without even trying. Hell, he was far taller than even Indigo.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it, Mr. Morada. But I can tell you want something more."

And Marcus was right to say that. Seeing as both he (supposedly) and his daughter wanted what was best for Indigo, he decided to admit his boredom.

"I... I want to go back to my old job. I want to help people. I'm not ready to retire-!"

"Oh, is that all? You should ask Chiono to sponsor you!"

Indigo immediately tensed up upon hearing the name. Chiono, the glory of the snow. The name his wife chose for his child. However, he knew that the name now belonged to the current Monarch. And that Monarch wasn't his child.

Iowa could easily see her father's darkened expression, the way he was now gripping the edge of the table, and tries to ease him up.

"Don't worry, Chiono listens to me. And... And I think he really likes you. You should give it a shot. And I heard the weather's nice this time of year."

And so he did, if only for a shot for him to speak his mind. After all, it was Chiono's fault his baby girl was dead. It was him who was now puppeteering what was left of her corpse. And it was all for what? Power, the seeds of greed planted by his mother? Indigo knew that it was his fault too, since he allowed Iowa to stay in such a terrible situation. But he couldn't bare that both of them died. Instead, now it was only she who was dead. He was breathing again, thanks to her. He was back to himself.

Indigo found little to no resistance as he stormed into the Monarch's castle. He had told a few guards that he requested an audience with the monarch, and the obligated saying," that Chiono was already waiting for him." So the bastard was watching him? That was just like his mother.

Despite the guards insistences that Indigo bowed or showed any form of respect, Indigo blindly made an appearance in front of the Monarch. Literally, for his eyes were closed. He couldn't bare to see what had happened to his daughter's body. Even after being returned to his senses himself, Indigo's body had been permanently altered. His hair remained like smoke and his skin was still tinted purple.

"Now listen here, young man. I was told that Iowa already spoke to you about sponsoring me. And although I am humble to be given an opportunity to work again, that doesn't mean I approve of you OR the things you've done. I-I know- HOW DARE YOU REPLACE-"

Indigo's ramblings is cut off by a cold embrace. Since entering the room, Indigo opens his eyes for the first time. He sees the odd lacerations and staples that decorate Chiono's neck. He can feel the odd pulsing from whatever vile machine replaced his daughter's heart. He can smell the decay poorly masked with the scent of chocolate.

"D-Don't touch me you-!"

Indigo pushes away the zombie, finally getting a better look at Chiono.

He had meant to glare at the taller "man," but Indigo's gaze quickly turned into one of regret. The expression on Chiono's face was one he knew all too well. It was the same, wide eyed stare his daughter used to make whenever Doxa yelled at her. They'd blank out completely, trying not to cry or register what was being said.

Although there were minor differences, such as Indigo only being able to see the top half of his face, Indigo KNEW the expression. Chiono was the same child that he was before. Both Iowa and Chiono was his child.

Indigo had promised himself that he'd never make his child make such a face towards him. And yet...

The expression didn't last for very long, as Chiono regained his "composure" quite quickly. Within a blink, the Monarch's expression became almost bored and very tired.

"Welcome back... Professor. You'll find your lab in the same condition you left it in. I... Used it myself, so please alert me personally if anything is missing."

The monarch then tossed Indigo a key before trying to return to his throne. But Indigo wouldn't let him. The shorter man was now clinging to Chiono's jacket, sobbing into it.

The older man began blubbering his "sorry"s and his "forgive me"s directly into Chiono's back. Chiono wasn't sure why, though. But still, he wanted his father to be happy. And to release him.

Carefully, Chiono reached behind himself to remove Indigo's hands from his coat.

"Professor... Father, please just get back to work," Chiono says, still holding onto his father's hands.

[walkingthroughfire-a]

Her heart is pounding in her chest so loud that she's so certain everyone around her could hear it, even the elder priest who seems to be a little hard of hearing. She looks to Tony hoping that he doesn't back down or say anything cheap ; but why would he when he brought so much attention on himself at her wedding. Please, she prays, please say what I need to hear.

And he does.

The moment that he says that he loves her, April's expression changes completely. Not angry or anything like it but a smile on her soft pink painted lips. Then of course the stark humor is then included and she knows it all the more to be true. Because Tony does things his way ; never by the book. It's chaotic and confusing sometimes but the unpredictability draws her in.

" You love me?" she asks trying to not smile knowing that the man behind her now is growing all the more frustrated and angry as well as hurt as this transpires. April steps away from the alter and over to Tony, looking into his eyes.

" I really wish you told me this before ..." She looks around the room at the decorations, the flowers, and then to the groom who is looking at her. It's true, while there is a love there it doesn't hold a candle to what she feels for Tony. Before her eyes come back to him she simply says she's sorry , though to whom it's still up in the air until she looks to the man who interrupted her wedding, her smile coming back.

She reaches out and takes his hands, holds them. Everyone is murmuring around as though taking bets on what April is going to do. She's a good girl who made a commitment ; she'd never leave a man standing at the alter. Promises were made and April doesn't break promises. She's too much of a people pleaser for that.

But, she's grown out here with Tony. Being around him made her bolder, more confident not only in herself but her skills. He helped her to find her voice when she was certain it was drowned out by the crowd.

" I love you , too." she tells him, then looks back at her groom. "But..." releasing Tony she walks back to the alter, back up and looks to the man she is to marry. "He's right...I don't want to marry you...It wouldn't be right for either one of us. You see - I fell in love with that giant idiot some time ago and I thought I could forget it but..." she then looks to Tony again and her smile comes back wider than before. " I can't."

With that said she walks back down off of the alter and back to Tony, grabbing his hands again.

" Let's get out of here."

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒  𝐈𝐒𝐍'𝐓  what  he  has  in  mind  either.  Honestly,  he  struggles  with  the  decision  to  accept  the  invitation  to  her  wedding.  The  invitation  arrives,  and  into  the  depths  of  a  drawer  it  goes,  forgotten  like  an  obsolete  piece  of  tech.  It  tears  at  him  like  a  paper  shredder.  But  now  that  he's  here,  standing  at  the  epicenter  of  this  matrimonial  maelstrom,  he  can't  quell  the  impulse  to  bring  the  whole  thing  to  a  screeching  halt.

His  feelings  for  April  take  root  from  the  moment  she  first  enters  his  life  as  his  personal  doctor.  She  waltzes  into  his  world  of  chaos  and  danger,  a  beacon  of  hope,  clarity,  and  strength.  It  is  subtle  at  first,  the  way  their  relationship  grows.  It  starts  as  a  seed,  a  tiny  sprout  of  admiration  and  gratitude  that,  over  time,  blossoms  into  something  more—something  powerful  enough  to  make  him  stand  here  today  and  object  to  her  union  with  another  man.

He  knows  the  reason  won't  stay  hidden  for  long.  April  is  no  fool,  and  he  suspects  she  can  already  guess  at  the  truth.  As  she  stares  at  him  now,  those  piercing  eyes  demanding  an  explanation,  the  enormity  of  what  he's  about  to  say  weighs  on  him  like  a  thousand  tons  of  steel.

He  takes  a  deep  breath,  Tony  braces  himself  for  the  monumental  confession  that  teeters  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue.  " Because…, "    he  pauses,  allowing  his  eyes  to  sweep  the  room  before  locking  onto  hers  once  more.  " I  love  you,  and  I  want  to  be  your  number  one  draft  pick,  not  Mr.  Second  Best  over  there, "  he  quips,  the  trademark  Stark  humor  surfacing  even  in  the  midst  of  a  heart-wrenching  confession,  that  isn’t  really  one  —  because  she  knows.  Deep  down. But  there  it  is—the  truth  laid  bare  before  them,  as  stark  and  unforgiving  as  the  bright  white  lights  of  the  wedding  hall.  He  feels  exposed,  like  a  nerve  plucked  free  from  the  safety  of  its  casing.  But  he  can't  leave  it  there,  can't  walk  away  without  giving  her  a  reason  to  reconsider.  The  silence  that  follows  his  confession  hangs  heavy  in  the  air,  a  tangible  weight  pressing  down  on  everyone  in  the  room.  The  eyes  of  the  assembled  guests  bore  into  him,  but  none  of  it  matters.  All  that  matters  now  is  April,  her  response.

[donutloverxo]

Good little wife

Note - Inspired by a request I got long ago and written for the happy hoelidays challenge I'm cohosting with my sister hoes @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18 . I used the prompts two idiots in love + Character A loves Christmas. Character B hates it. A melts Bs cold heart Dividers by @firefly-graphics .

Summary - Your husband makes up to you for being a Grinch and a meanie to you throughout your marriage.

Warnings - 18+ only, smut(m/f), dub con, older man/younger woman, arranged marrige, leaking nudes, daddy kink, blood play, virginity/innocence kink, loss of virginity, virgin reader, painful sex, misogyny, mob activities.

Pairing - Mob!Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 8k

“You look beautiful, cookie,” your mother raved, pressing her lips to your cheek, “He’s a lucky man.”

You only hummed. Staring at your refection, seeing someone you didn’t even recognize.

Your white lace dress somewhat conservative, still really pretty, something you would’ve been more than happy to wear if your circumstances weren’t so depressing.

You almost let out a sardonic laugh, you didn’t get to choose your husband but at least you chose your wedding gown.

“It’ll be alright,” your mother picked at your hair, noticing your evident sadness, you’ve never been one to hide how you feel anyway, “you’ll learn to love him. He’s very successful.”

“I always thought ‘money doesn’t make you happy',” something she had said to you so many times over the years.

“That’s just a fairy tale. People fall out of love, run out of things to talk about, men cheat, in the end all that’s left is how well he can provide for you,” she stated.

You checked your phone as soon as you could, going through your messages to see if your boyfriend, or rather your now ex boyfriend, had sent you anything. You still naively hoped that he'd come on a white horse and sweep you off and away, so you wouldn’t have to marry someone you’ve else. So you wouldn’t have to give up your freedom forever and just be someone’s wife.

But you saw nothing. He hadn’t talked to you, not since your father found out about you both. Since he was from a family your daddy hated with a passion, and you were supposed to as well, your father made you cut all times with him. Locked you in your room in a timeout till you came to your senses.

After over three weeks he came to you, telling you how he was ready to forgive you and move on. You were so happy. For a minute you let yourself believe that this was your father, he loved you unconditionally, of course he'd set aside whatever vain feud he has and let you be with your love.

All your hopes were crushed when he told you he had selected a husband for you whom you have to marry in just a month. That you had to drop out of college since you wouldn’t need that degree anyway.

You always did believe that he had your best interests at heart, you wanted to believe it this time as well, but you just couldn’t.

Cringing inwardly when he kissed your cheeks, “You look beautiful,” he told you, cold eyes staring at you, “Don’t try anything stupid. Andrew is a good man,” he looped your arm in with his.

“He’s more than a decade older than me,” you argued, biting your lip as he squeezed your arm to warn you.

You slapped a fake smile on your face, walking down, one step after another as everyone looked at you in awe.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life...

But when you looked at Andy waiting for you at the alter you felt nothing but grave anxiety which made your teeth clatter, his palms joined together at his front, he did look handsome with his tux and neat beard. You have had a crush on him for a long time but you’ve never even had a real conversation with him, you didn’t know him. No one did.

Your heart filled with dread as your father handed you over to Andy, patting him on his shoulder, “Take good care of her.”

“I will,” Andy smiled.

You weren’t really there, maybe your body was but your soul had left you to maybe make the whole ordeal less painful. The priest read the vows asking you if you were ready to take him as your husband forever.

“I do,” since you had no other choice.

“I do,” he repeated.

You felt a shiver jolt up your spine when his fingers grazed yours, putting the thin silver band on your finger before lifting your veil to press his lips to yours, giving you a chaste, barely there kiss as everyone cheered you on.

The rest of the evening was a blur, you could barely register what had happened, everyone sweetly calling you ‘Mrs Barber’ only making you more nervous.

Andy however, was cordial and formal as always, shaking their hands and thanking them.

Since you hadn’t really taken any dance lessons you were left to simply wing it with him at your first dance. With your clammy hands in his you tried to match his pace as he lead you, bumping into his feet with yours more than once.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Relax,” making you shudder.

You looked up at him, he had barely said two words to you but your grandmother often said ‘Eyes are the windows to the soul’.

And Andy’s eyes were so... kind, like a blue ocean you could happily drown in. He almost looked at you as if he were fond of you.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad...

You didn’t really expect Andy to carry you over the threshold, that was just a silly little fantasy you’ve always had and you knew he’d never indulge you in it but he didn’t even hold the door open for you.

You looked around his condo, so grey and boring, looked like it was out of a magazine catalogue, you felt so out of place there.

Naturally, you followed him to his bedroom, watching him wake his coat off, followed by his cuffs as he rolled his sleeves up.

You went over what you wanted to say in your head, how do you tell your husband that you’re a virgin, on your wedding night--that was something your grandmother never gave you advice on. You could’ve used her wisdom then.

With your mouth suddenly dry you tried to speak as he poured himself a drink, “Um... I’ve...”

“What?” he looked at you, quirking a brown brow up.

“Nothing,” you shook your head as you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “This is a nice house.”

“You can take the guestroom,” he said bluntly.

“What?”

“You can take the guestroom. I’ve already put all your bags there, you can decorate it however you like but don’t touch anything else.”

“But I...I’ve never heard of husband and wife sleeping in different rooms.”

“That’s true, it is unusual. This is not a normal marriage though, is it?” His tone so frustratingly patronising, as if he was talking to a child.

You’ve never really been appreciated for your mind, women never are--not where you come from, even your love Alex only ever thought of you as a ‘pretty face’. But Andy didn’t need to spell it out for you, “You... don’t want me...” you realised.

He only scoffed. He’d never been one for long term relationships, he had tried but he could never give himself to another person, women often called him emotionally unavailable, his demanding and dangerous job did contribute a lot to that, but more than that it was his unwillingness to change. He was self aware enough to know that but he didn’t need anyone else. He didn’t want to be tied down or to have a nagging immature wife.

“But why...” you wondered. Sure, you weren’t thrilled to marry him, but now you had accepted it and wanted to make the best of your new life. You thought he wanted the same.

“Why would I want you?” he spat. “ You’re nothing but a spoilt rich girl who’s had everything handed to her. Who was ungrateful and stupid enough to fraternize with the enemy.”

You let out a shaky exhale, looking at him with teary eyes, “I loved him...”

“You don’t know the first thing about love,” he rolled his eyes.

“He loved me too! But I’m willing to put that behind me. I made a vow to you.”

“You really don’t know, do you?”

“Know what?” you frowned.

He took his phone out of his pocket, opening his gallery to show you the compromising pictures you had sent to your ex, “He shared that with everyone, it was all just a ploy to humiliate your father.”

You gasped, taking his phone in your trembling hand, your breasts exposed as you shyly looked at the camera. You had flat out refused to send him a nude when he asked for it but then he threatened to break up with you, to go after your best friend, even called you a prude because you hadn’t slept with him. At the moment you felt as if you had no choice but to do it...

“He wouldn’t,” you sobbed.

“And because of your stupidity I had to marry you since no one else would ever want you,” he said. But then regretted it as you just started crying harder. He thought of maybe trying to console you but what would he even say?

He took the phone from you before you could even think of deleting the photos. He used them to pleasure himself almost every night. Maybe he was an idiot, he could have the real thing, yet he was pushing you away, “Go to your room,” he told you which made you sob even moreso.

You looked up at him, begging him for a hug, for some sort of comfort or sympathy but his face was cold and harsh. Finally gathering your wits you went to the other room, ready to cry yourself to sleep.

No matter how beautiful you were, you were still thrusted upon him, you didn’t love him, you never could because you never even had a choice

“Perfect,” you beamed, setting down the chicken pot pie you had just cooked up.

Your grandmama had always told you that a wife should be a cook in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. So that her man would never stray.

And while you hadn’t had a chance to be a whore for Andy... something that you were looking forward to, you hoped the fresh home cooked meal, the holiday season and decorations you had spent the past few days working on would put him in the mood. To maybe accept you as his wife.

For the past six months you had tried everything, making him breakfast, packing his lunch, offering him massages, even trying to help him with his work but he was always so cold to you.

You feared that this is how it will be forever. He would never love you, not the way you’ve always loved him. Even when he was so cruel towards you.

But you were nothing if not resilient. So you said chuck it and went all out. Decorating your whole house, with a real tree for the past few days while Andy was out on a work trip for thanksgiving. Maybe you could surprise him and he’d realise just how much he lucked out with you.

You even went with a more risqué outfit than you usually would. Your little emerald green skirt with pleats was a bit too short and impractical for the cold winters but you were going to stay inside anyway. It was topped off with a tight burgundy blouse and a push up bra which made your girls look enticing and some red pumps.

With a pumpkin pie for dessert in the oven, your salads done and the gingerbread flavored candles lit up you were good to go.

So you sat on the couch, watching 'A Christmas story' for the hundredth time to kill time till he gets home and to distract your nervous mind.

After ninety minutes the movie was over but Andy still wasn’t home. You tried calling him but it kept going to voicemail.

Frustrated, but determined to follow through with your ‘Seduce Andy Barber’ plan you put on another movie, chewing your lip till it bled as you impatiently waited for him.

Soon it was midnight, your food got cold and the rumbling in your tummy became more prominent so you decide to eat your dinner, put the leftovers in the freezer and cut your losses.

You were almost done with your dishes when your husband coming into the apartment, turning around you saw him hang his coat on the back of the chair and plomp down on it. He groaned, pulling the sleeves of his shirt up to reveal his bulky forearms.

“You’re home,” you said, taking off your apron so he could see your little get up.

He didn’t smile at you like you expected he would, he didn’t say ‘Good job’ like you thought he would. He certainly didn’t look like he wanted to bend you over the dining table and take you then and there. He simply frowned at you. Looking at you as if your mere existence offended him.

“I told you; you were allowed to decorate your room however you liked. Not the whole apartment,” he growled, rubbing a hand over his face.

“What? I did it for you... I thought you would like it, ” you stood there, dumbfounded, shifting from one foot to another, “You don’t like Christmas.” You realised.

“No, I don’t. Christmas isn’t all fun and jolly for everybody. I’ve never had anyone to celebrate it with,” he did you a once over, his pants tightening uncomfortably as he took in your little ensemble.

He had never had a single good Christmas in his whole life. He’d usually spend it either working or drinking. But now, he had you, his good little wife who had gone out of her way to do all this just for him.

He could kiss your red lips then and there, finally do what he’s been wanting to go for the past few months and make love to you, eat the delicious meal you had made him because he was fucking starving.

But then he realized how easily you could be taken away from him. How this was all so fickle.

“Do you want a divorce?” he crossed his hands over his chest, as if daring you to give a wrong answer, “If you do, I’ll give you one right now.”

“I - ” you strutted, you didn’t really know, “Daddy would never let that happen.” To which he scoffed.

Your father would kill you both if this marriage failed. He knew that, why would he still be willing to risk everything?

“Where are you going?” you asked when he got up from the chair.

“To my room, to sleep,” he sighed.

He knew what you would say, he knew you were daddy’s little girl who’d die before disappointing her father, which was solely why you were with him, and yet he let himself fall for you and get hurt.

You tugged on his shirt, ready to beg him to at least eat the meal you made for him but then you frowned, inhaling the feminine perfume from his shirt, mixed with his own Cologne, you took a step back, your eyes brimming with tears as you realised he might’ve been with another woman.

While you were home slaving away to make everything perfect for him.

Your father had a handful of mistresses, a few of them younger than you. Your mother knew, all wives know and look the other way. That was how it was supposed to be. It was how you make marriages last...

And your poor beaten heart could take his coldness towards you, it absolutely could not bear him being with another woman. Your father had always praised him for being loyal, and it was one of the things you loved about him...

“Where were you?” you sniffled to keep the tears at bay.

“I was out working. So I could pay for your shopping sprees.” He spat.

You gasped, “I haven’t gone shopping in months! I only did now for Christmas!”

“That tree better be down by the time I wake up. You can out all that crap in your bedroom if you like. I do not what to see it.” He said gravelly, before slamming his door shut.

Something was horribly wrong.

Andy came home to an empty, cold house. You weren’t there to greet him like you usually are, in fact you hadn’t been for the past few weeks. He could hear the TV from your room, some kind of musical playing.

He checked the kitchen for some food, you used to make dinner every night, rave about your love for cooking and baking, but now it seemed that you lived on poptarts and McDonald’s.

He knocked on your door, to ask if you wanted some of the alfredo he was cooking up, also to maybe get you to have dinner with him.

Ever since he had married you, he had such a beautiful companion to have dinner with. To watch silly romcoms with, someone who waited for him to come home, called him all worried when he was late, asked him how his day was

It’d break his heart to say good night to you, you’d give him those puppy eyes, fluttering your lashes as if begging him to invite you to bed with him.

He wanted to ask you to come, to feel what it would be like to snuggle up with your soft body, to smell your hair, to finally fuck you, but he’d just go away to sleep in his cold bed with a heavy heart. Making do with his hand as he thought of you, it wouldn’t feel nearly as good as you would but it would have to do.

“Can I come in, honey?” he asked.

Letting himself in when no answer came from you. You were lying on your bed, blankets draped over you, your eyes trained on the television. He looked around your room, he had only been there a couple of times, he had expected to see some kind of winter wonderland since you were such a fan of Christmas.

But it looked just how it usually did... pale pink walls, a queen sized bed, a small closet and a dresser and a vanity. No tree or fairy lights or nut crackers.

He leaned against the door frame. “Did you have dinner?” He wanted to know.

You made some sort of unintelligible noise; which could mean anything. So he asked, “Would you like some pasta? I can’t make it as good as you do but I’ll try.”

“No.” You answered. Still not even looking at him.

“It’s Christmas Eve, do you want to go celebrate with your family?”

You shook your head in response. “No, I think I’ll just stay here.”

He had stolen your brightness and sunshine away, tainting you with his darkness. “Stop it,” he scolded, switching off the TV and standing in front of you to make you listen to him. “Get ready, I’m dropping you off at your fathers. You’re not spending Christmas in bed.”

“What difference does it make?” you huffed.

“Get ready. Right. Now.” He ordered, pulling your blanket away from you.

“No!” you whined. Sitting up, your face heating up with a simmering rage you had harbored for months. “Why do you even care? Do you want to get me out of the house so you could spend Christmas with her?!”

“Who’s her?” he furrowed his brows.

“Your mistress!” you yelled, looking around for something you could hurt him with, you grabbed a hold of your Mrs Bunny, your cute pink stuffie and threw it at his face. “I’m not going anywhere. And you’re not bringing her in to my house!” You said, throwing another stuffie at him which he caught with his hand.

“Honey,” he said, as if he was so disappointed with you, for catching him in his lies and deceit. “I don’t have a mistress. Where would I even find the time for one? All those late nights were spent at the office or in meetings.”

He would be the world’s biggest idiot to get a mistress when he had a wife like you waiting for him at home. A wife he hadn’t even so much as even kissed... given how pouty and tempting your lips looked, he didn’t know how he resisted for so long.

“Don’t call me honey,” you puffed out your cheeks, “And I don’t believe you.”

“Well, what can I do to make you believe me?”

You sighed, laying back down on the bedding, “There’s not much you can do. Except leave me be. I just want to sleep this Christmas away.”

He had to do something to get your spirits up. And since you has thrown away your old decorations he ran to every store in the town, waiting in the queue for hours, calling in as many favors as he could to get some new ones.

While he wasn’t able to get a real Christmas tree, he got a fake one which was a bit smaller than the one you had put up but not all that bad.

You had decorated the apartment with the traditional red, greens and golden he decided to go with a soft pastel pink theme. Hoping that you would like it and forgive him.

He had gotten you couple of gifts, a little babydoll he saw on the internet, it was pink and sexy, he thought of you the moment he saw it. Ordering it for you but he never really gathered enough courage to ask you to wear it. He wrapped it up for you in some festive paper, tying a ribbon around it.

He decided to get as many gifts for you as he could so the tree wouldn’t look so depressing, a Tiffany’s set, an advent calendar from a make up company he knew you liked, a box of cookies and one of chocolates, a new apron with floral patterns and frilly trimmings, some cozy socks, and a surprise gift he had been saving for you.

Looking around the living room, while it wasn’t as good as what you had done with the place he was still proud of what he could pull off in just a couple of hours.

He called out your name before knocking and entering, switching on your bedside lamp he sat next to you, stroking your hair, “Wake up, angel.”

“Seriously, stop it with the petnames,” you said, your voice groggy from sleep and irritated. Because he had only ever said your name with contempt before.

“I’m not going to stop, honey. You’re my wife, I can call you whatever I like.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, rubbing your sleep away from your eyes.

“I have a surprise for you.” He smiled at you.

And while he had certainly smiled at you before that, when you had said something funny or silly (which you usually did just to see him smile), this one seemed so much brighter and warm.

“What is it?” you sat up. Still a bit crossed with him but excited to see what surprise he had for you.

“You have to come into the living room for that, and promise to stop being a Grinch,” he said, bopping your nose.

You scoffed incredulously, “I’m being a Grinch?! You were the one who made me take everything down in the first place!”

“I know, honey, and I am sorry for that. Hopefully I can make it up to you.” He winked.

You combed your hair, splashing some water on your face and then following him out to see what he had in mind for you.

You all but gasped at the tree in the middle of your living room, so beautiful, the soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the room, little festive trinklets all over the room.

He had got you a pink stocking with sparkling silver hearts on it. His was a normal red one with ‘Andy' written with a sharpie or a pen. You giggled at that.

“You like it, honey?” he asked.

You nodded, observing the ornaments on your tree, “I do. Thank you so much, Andy. It’s so beautiful, I don’t think anyone’s ever done something so grand for me.”

Your rave gave him the courage to out his hand over your waist, pulling you into him, “I know this doesn’t make up for everything, but it’s start.”

“Yes! I think... I’d like a fresh start,” you beamed up at him

He excused himself to make some hot chocolate for you both, handing you a mug with little heart shaped marshmallows and sprinkles on top of it. You didn’t even realise how you ended up snuggled up next to him on the couch, Elf playing on the TV which he shockingly had never seen before.

“You know... for someone who hates Christmas so much you did a pretty good job saving it!” you giggled, kissing his bearded cheek.

“Well...” he looked down at you, wiping away the mustache the hot chocolate gave you before sucking his thumb off, “I don’t hate it anymore, because I’m not alone,” he said, his thumb pulling on your plump bottom lip.

“Um...” you face heated up as looked away, “You got me gifts!” you screamed a bit overzealous to change the subject, “Can I open one now? Please?! I’m just so excited!”

“Sure,” he murmured, a bit salty that he didn’t get the kiss.

He knelt next to you on the carpet as you pinked one up, shaking it next to your ear, scrunching your nose up so cutely as you tried to decipher what it was.

“Mmm... I can’t tell...”

“Why don’t you just open it?” he asked as his hand caressed your bare thigh, finding himself unable to keep his hands off of you now that he has you.

You ripped at the wrapping paper, opening the box to reveal the skimpy baby pink lingerie he had got you.

You pulled it out of the box and then started stammering, unable to form words once you realised what it was. “Is this... um..”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, it’s very cute and nice. Do you, want me to wear it for you?”

“If that’s what you want,” he said casually and then shrugged but then regretted it as your face fell and you let. He wasn’t used to half-assing things if he was going to tell you his true feelings, he had to go all out.

Taking a deep breath, “I have to tell you something I’ve been meaning to say for months.”

“What?”

“I... love you,” he looked down at your lap, because he couldn’t bear to look in your eyes if you decided to reject him.

“Oh, Andy!” you beamed, “I love you too! I’ve always loved you,” you crawled on top of him, throwing your arms around his neck you hugged him.

“That’s good then,” he smiled stroking your back, he pulled you back so he could look at your pretty face, cupping your cheek he pressed his lips against yours.

He had only kissed you once, months ago at your wedding, and while it was not bad at all it was too short and formal and distant, nothing compared to how he felt right now. Moulding his lips against yours, kneading the flesh of your ass, you tasted just as sweet as he imagined you would.

You gasped in his mouth when he rutted his erection up into your core. “Andy!” your chest heaving as you felt him pressing against your thigh.

“What do you say you go put that on for me, doll? Hm?” he instructed.

You meekly nodded, grabbing a hold of the lingerie which you just now noticed was so sheer and would not really leave anything to the imagination.

“Come on out quickly now,” his impatience seeping through his voice as he sat on the edge of his, or what would now be both of your marital bed, one leg crossed over the other, his foot tapping against the floor.

His pants already snug, just from imagining what you would look like with the flimsy thing on. It wasn’t as revealing or kinky as some of the other pieces he had seen, but he felt it would match your personality perfectly.

He groaned, calling out your name again, “I’m gonna fucking die of blue balls, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in,” he got up to his feet to do just that but then stopped when he heard the knob twist.

One smooth leg peaking out of the bathroom, “Um... promise you wouldn’t make fun of me?” you asked. Your eyes screwed shut, you didn’t really have much of choice but you had never been so vulnerable in front of anyone. You’d hate to not be satisfactory for him.

“I promise,” his face softened, he had to practice some restrain, at least until he breaks you in, “Now come on out.”

You opened the door, your meek eyes fixed on your hardwood floor, your hands hugging your midsection. You blinked when he said nothing for several long, tortuous moments. Peaking a glance up at him you found him staring at you.

“Uh, do you like it?” you asked as your hands played with the helm of the teddy.

He almost scoffed. Like would be an understatement.

He knew pink would be your color. The nightie so short, clinging to your curves, your nipples pebbled against the satiny fabric, you looked like a sweet little doll and a whole fucking meal to devour at the same time. He would burst before he even got to touch you.

“Twirl,” he made the motion with his forefinger to demonstrate it, “Let me look at you better. And hands to your sides.”

You took a deep breath, letting your hands fall, doing as he had asked, your heart hammering in your chest because for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out if he actually liked you.

“Stop there,” he instructed when he got a look at your pert, round butt, the cloth barely covering it, he could see the imprints of the thong you wore.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

“If I like your front better or your behind.” He almost chuckled at the incredulous gasp you let out. “Alright, look at me again.” Definitely the front, because he could see your beautiful face. Taking his original position on the bedding, “Come here,” he patted his lap.

Like the obedient wife that you aspired to be, you followed, perching yourself up on his lap, your arms around his neck for some support, looking into his lust blown, dark eyes.

You bite your lip when you felt that pressing into your thigh. Unable to bear his intense gaze you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

He hushed you, snuggling your soft body closer to his, his fingers drawing patterns on your hip, “How many men have you been with before?”

It didn’t really matter whatever your answer would be. But he wanted to tell you, that how ever many there were before him won’t matter anymore. From now on you are solely his.

“None,” you whispered so lowly that he almost couldn’t hear you.

“What?” Holding onto your chin so that he could make you look at him, “None? How is that possible?”

“I’ve just been waiting for the right one... I was going to with Alex but then didn’t...” you said as your hands caressed the coarse hair on his jaw.

He hummed, the fact that he would be your one and only, forever, only served to entice him further.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” he asked, although he knew the answer.

“No...”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” he promised, pushing on your shoulders to make you get on your knees.

You hissed at the cold floor, biting into the your calves and knees.

His dainty princess, he grabbed a throw pillow, instructing you to put it under, all the while staring at your cleavage peaking out like a creep.

Your eyes were fixated on his crotch, eager to see what a real penis looks like. You had watched some porn when you were a teen, out of sheer curiosity, but your friends had told you to lower your expectations. That real ones are much smaller and not so aesthetically pleasing.

You all but gasped when he took his cock out of the confines of his sweats, slapping over his abdomen. So big... and thick, with two veins over it, a bright flushed tip leaking with pre-ejaculate, and some soft hair dusted at the base of it.

You tried to stop yourself but then couldn’t help it, your hand shyly touching his tip yanking it down and then releasing it to see what happens. As suspected it flew back over, hard against his tummy, making you giggled.

“Oh gosh...” you slapped a palm over your mouth to stop from laughing.

He scrunched up the hair on the back of your head, yanking your neck back so that he could look at you, “What’s so funny?” he growled.

“Nothing,” you gulped, “It’s all just so strange and new... and exciting...”

He hummed as he took in your words. Grabbing the base of his cock as he rubbed his tip and precum all over your cheeks till your face was positively glowing with his essence.

“You wanna taste it?” he asked, to which you eagerly nodded.

Nudging your pouty lips with his tips before tapping on them when you didn’t get the clue, “Open.”

“Oh,” you said before opening as wide as you could, his length easing into your mouth. You hummed around him, the salty unique taste of him you had never really known before and couldn’t get enough of now.

He was barely halfway through inside you when he touched the back of your throat, he tutted, “Relax your throat,” he told you.

You didn’t really know what he meant but you tried loosening up all your muscles. Choking around him when he pushed in a few more inches.

Most of him was still out but it was as good as it’s gonna get, not that he’d ever complain... no... your mouth was like heaven. He had only known his hand for the past year Or so, and your mouth was almost too much.

Holding onto your face to keep it in place he started thrusting upwards into you, his heart swelling with tears escaped your eyes but you still tried to take more of him, to please him like the good girl that you were.

He stopped his hips, gently slapping your cheek to get your attention, “You always look at me when my dick is in your mouth. Got it?”

Since you couldn’t talk with your mouth full of cock, you just nodded.

You peered up at him innocently, fluttering your lashes, popping him out of your sloppy mouth, “Am I doing it right?” because you truly couldn’t tell.

He chuckled, smoothening a hand down your hair, “More than right... it’s too good but I want to come in your pussy. Maybe I’ll make you swallow my load latter, what do you think?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” you licked your lips to taste more of him.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered.

“Um... can I go fix my face before that,” you rubbed your mouth with the back of your hand, you doubted you looked very pretty to him then.

“No,” he stated, pulling you up by your armpits and all but throwing you on the bed.

You yelped and tried to protest, “I wanna look good for you...”

He pushed your legs apart to make room for him, smirking above you, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat, his prey, “This really does look pretty on you...” he rubbed the flimsy spagetti strap between his fingers, “but it’s served it’s purpose.”

You screamed, holding onto his wrists as he ripped the babydoll in two pieces, revealing your breasts to him, he yanked at it, throwing the remains away.

“That’s much better,” he gritted, pinching one of your peaks, capturing it in his mouth and suckling at it to his hearts content.

You pouted as you looked at the torn cloth, a bit upset that he ruined his gift to you. “I really liked that...” you sniffled. But couldn’t really ponder because Andy’s ravenous mouth was sucking hickies all over your breasts.

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you ten more,” he bit into the side of your breasts, your mewls and whines were like music to his ears.

“Andy...” you heaved, “Don’t leave marks... I have to go to dinner tomorrow to moms...”

He stopped abruptly, propping himself up above you and you were afraid that you had upset him, “You’re my wife now, honey. Your father gave you to me,” his hand snaking down your body, between your legs, he parted your moist lips, the pad of his fingers meeting your little pearl, “I can do whatever I want with you,” he reminded you, pushing a finger into you, “This cunt is mine now, got it?”

“Yess...” you whined as you squirmed under him, the invasion of his finger inside you too alien to your body.

“Which means you ask for permission before you touch yourself, or better yet, don’t touch yourself because that’s my job,” he stated.

“Have you ever made yourself come?” he asked, trailing soft kisses down your body till he settled between your legs, moving the strong of the thing to the side so he could get a better look at your virgin pussy, adding another finger inside you, your snug walls clinging to his digits, “You’re so fucking small. Can barely fit my finger. How will you take my cock,” he teased.

He’d make you take it.

You whimpered at the sting of it, “I’ll try, daddy...” throwing your head back as you massaged your breast.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, looking down at him when he stopped his ministrations, “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” he quirked a brow. “Do you realise what you just called me?”

You simply shook your head because you hadn’t really called him anything, “Andy?”

“No,” he huffed, “You called me daddy, honey.”

You gasped, you didn’t mean to say it out loud! “No...” you shook you head from side to side, trying to pull away from his fingers still knuckle deep inside you, “It can’t be!”

“Oh, but you did,” he laughed, “And you’re gonna say it again. In fact, from now on, when it’s just the two of us that’s the only thing that you will call me. Unless you wanna get punished...”

“Okay...” you said, still a bit unsure of it all.

You had always called him ‘daddy’ in your fantasies. It was maybe a bit expected for it to slip out like that but still so embarrassing. You said it again just to make sure that he actually wanted you to call him that and wasn’t just teasing you.

“Good girl,” he winked, latching his mouth around your clit, fucking you with his fingers as he kept sucking.

“Daddy...” you whined, biting on your hand to muffle some of your noises, a knot building up in the pit of your stomach, “Don’t stop, please!”

You gushed over his mouth, he lapped it all up, making sure nothing went to waste.

“You did good, honey,” he said, your cheeks heating up when you saw his beard glistening with your juices. He rolled your thong down your thick thighs, “You wear this to dinner tomorrow,” he told you. “Since I’m going to be a real husband from now on I pick out what you wear.”

All so he could see you in those pretty flowy dresses you wear sometimes, but you didn’t need to know that.

He hastily pushed his sweats and briefs past his hips, throwing them off the bed before pulling his t-shirt over his head.

You bit your lip at just the sight of him. His shoulders so broad, chest so wide, dark hair dusted all over his chest, you just knew then that all those hours he spent at the gym paid off, you knew he’d be ripped.

But you absolutely did not expect, someone as uptight as him to have numerous tattoos all over his torso.

Something inscribed in Sanskrit on his chest that you didn’t really understand... the logo of your family’s mob on just under his pectoral.

You sat up to get a better look at them, tracing a skull on his bicep that looked much less sophisticated than the others, the lines a bit scribbly, it was already fading.

“That’s the first one,” he interrupted you, “I was a kid back then, got my foster brother to do it.”

You pressed a kiss over it, “I love it.”

His blue eyes beamed at you, he was so beautiful...

“Now for your gift...” he circled your wrist bringing it down to his pelvis.

“Hm?” you looked down, tears brimming up in your eyes as you saw your name written on just beside his hipbone, next to his hard cock, standing tall against his stomach. In a small heart, dark ink against his pale skin, “When did you get it done?” you sniffles, touching his skin to feel the texture of the tattoo.

“A few weeks ago. I just... I’ve never belonged to anyone. Never had a family of my own. But now I have you, and you have me, I’m just as much yours as you’re mine,” he confessed, finally feeling the weight of it lifted off his shoulders. You were a blessing in disguise.

“I love you,” you beamed up at him.

“I love you too, doll, now come on,” he pushed you till you were on your back, “Daddy’s waited long enough. Can’t wiat to fill you up, make you mine.”

He planted a hand on the mattress, so he could see what he was doing to your virgin cunt, look at you and her, as he defiles you and makes you a woman, his thick manhood nudging your glistening lips as he eased into you, he felt you stretching around him, your face twisted in pain as you begged him to go easy on you, he halted when he felt your barrier.

He looked up at your pretty face, sparkling with his spend and your tears, your sweet little whimpers filled the room, he stayed still for a moment to let you get used to him, he knew he should take it easy.

His wife was a delicate, fragile, sweet little girl. He should be more gentle. A better husband and man would be. But he had his whole life to become a good man for you, tonight he just wanted to take what was rightfully his.

Letting out a deep, almost animalistic growl, piercing through your seal, your innocence till you were screeching, your nails drawing blood from the sides of his thighs.

“It hurts!” you screamed.

“It’ll only hurt for a little bit, doll. Just ride through it,” he cooed, stroking your sensitive clit to draw your attention away from the pain, he withdrew his hips before snapping them back till he was deep within your womb.

“You’re so snug, honey,” he grunted, not letting up his pace as he kept fucking into you,

A proud smirk gracing his face as he looked down to see himself covered in blood, a sticky mess of both your bodily fluids where your sexes were joined. His dick somehow grew harder inside you knowing how he took something from you that you’ll never be able to give someone else.

Slowly your crying and whining was subsiding as you got used to have him inside you, but he wanted to hear you scream for him in a different way. “Don’t you want to make your husband, no, your daddy happy, honey?” He asked, each word punctuated with a deep, harsh thrust into you.

You nodded, willing your tears away, cringing when you saw his crotch covered in your blood, “Yes I do, daddy. What do I do?”

“Your cute dumb brain always needs to be told what to do,” he chuckled, moving closer to you he circled his palms around your wrists, pinning them above you, “Wrap your legs around me.”

You followed along, wrapping your legs around his hips and hooking them together on his back. Closing your eyes when you felt your body seizing up, your pussy pulsating around his length when you felt the familiar feeling creep up on you.

“Look at me!” he barked and you immediately opened your eyes, “You look at me when I fuck you.”

You gulped and dared not close your eyes again. Even as you felt your orgasm wash over you, clenching around his length. His face was scrunched up, his neck, face and chest flush as he chased his own release till you felt his warm release coating your walls.

He collapsed above you, panting beside you he kissed your hair, “You liked that, babygirl?”

You let out a meek little yes. Feeling empty and void of his warmth and hardness when he pulled out of you before settling next to you.

“But...” you trailed off. Not finding it in you to bare yourself to him like that just yet.

“But what?” he whipped his head to look at you.

“But I’m sorry if I wasn’t very good!” Since you had simple laid there and took whatever he gave you. You had heard that men don’t like that...

“Don’t worry, honey, you were absolutely perfect,” he sighed. “You’ll get even better with practice, we’re gonna practice a lot from now on.”

You tried to cover your breasts up with the comforter, still awkward about being stark naked right next to a man, a man who looked as good as like Andy, but he swatted at your hands, reprimanding you and telling you to stay still and let him look at you to his hearts content.

Soon you felt your cunt throbbing back up again, still so raw from the loving Andy gave it, you tried rubbing your legs together to ease it a little bit.

“It still hurts?” Andy asked as you nodded.

He snaked a hand between your legs, massaging your little nub and your lips, tutting when you tried to pull away from his touch, “Shh I’m trying to make it hurt less.”

He hummed when he saw his seed leak out of you, pushing a finger in you, much to your displeasure, to keep it inside you, where it belonged.

He would make you go on some form of birth control as soon as he could. While the idea of you all round and plump with his kid was more than appealing, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else just yet. You were young, he had plenty of years to breed you.

“You’d make a good mother,” he wondered out loud.

“Hm?” you blinked at him. Squirming from the torture he was yielding on your overworked sex. His lips curled up in a twisted smile as he pulled his fingers out of you, wiping your blood on your soft nipples, painting them crimson as you shivered.

You looked at his cock, hard again against his stomach. “Does it hurt?” you asked, your hands twitching to touch it again.

“Yes, it does. Do you wanna help me get rid of the pain?”

“Mm... can I use my mouth again? I’m sore...”

“It’s okay, honey, you’ll get used to it,” he promised, grabbing your hips and pulling you on top of him, your palms pressed into his abdomen as you looked so wrecked, “Guide me in,” he ordered.

You shook your head which earned you a harsh slap on your ass so you held onto the base of his cock, parting your intimate lips, before slowly sinking down on him.

You sighed as you settled, sitting on top of him with his cock nestled inside you, so full and strangely satisfied, his warmth soothing your aching walls, he spanked you again to remind you to move, so you started bouncing on top of him the best you could.

His hand groped at your bouncing titts before he wrapped a hand around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure as you whimpered and cried, just to remind you who’s in charge, not that you’d forget anytime soon.

His only regret was that he hadn’t done this sooner. He was an idiot to ever resist an angel like you. He’ll have to do a lot to make up for lost time.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[panda-writes-kpop]

TMA (Take Me Away) Chapter One:

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! 💕 Wow, I didn’t think this would come so soon. I’m kind of nervous to release this fic because it probably pales in comparison to other AUs in this “war”. Alas, my pride and ego made me write this so I could take the throne for myself. I hope you enjoy the first part of this fic, and may the best writer (myself) win! Let me know your thoughts on the series so far!

For those not interested in the TMA series, I will not be changing my regular writing schedule to adapt to this series. You’ll still be able to enjoy your two uploads a week from me!

For those interested in the TMA series, these updates will go up on Saturdays. *Not every Saturday because I’m not trying to mentally exhaust myself.* It’ll be more relaxed than my regular writing schedule. If I have the next chapter done, I’ll put it up. If not, you’ll have to wait another week or so.

TW: Forced marriage, family issues, feelings of isolation from others, venting from the author

Series Masterlist

~

“Y/N, can you please hold still for just a moment?” The seamstress begs as she tries to carefully measure your waist.

“I would if you would stop poking me with those sharp objects!” You huff.

“They’re called pins, dear.”

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes as you observe the Victorian-inspired room around you.

The elongated arch windows in front of you provide a heavenly amount of light to the room. The walls to your side are decorated with an eccentric collection of paintings, and each one is from a different era of art. Behind you, strong, large mahogany doors protect you from the outside world.

I’d much rather be out there than here.

The seamstress has her varying materials on one of the tables in your dad’s living room. Well, in one of his living rooms.

“I’m surprised that you’re not excited to get married. It’s such an exciting time for a young person like you!” The seamstress giggles.

“I didn’t choose to get married. My dad forced it upon me. I’m not even going to meet my future partner until a day before the wedding.” You explain as the seamstress stops moving.

“Really? I thought that rich folks considered that to be outdated.” The seamstress looks up at you with surprise written on her face.

“Me too.” You sigh before letting her work again, “But there’s no time to dwell on the past. I have to do what’s told of me.”

I don’t want to believe that it’s true, even though the wedding is eight days away. With every moment that passes by, I find myself becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of a betrothal. That scares me a lot more than the marriage itself.

“I’m sure that you’ll be just fine, Y/N.” The seamstress takes one last measurement before pulling the pins out of your clothes, “And you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. Now, go rest up before dinner with your dad. God knows that you need it.”

At least someone around here is nice.

“When do I have to see you next?” You ask as you step off of the small podium that she brought.

“I’ll have the clothes made two days before the wedding. We’ll do alterations then.” The seamstress gives you a nod before you open the mighty doors in front of you.

~

Not feeling one bit hungry, you poke at the food in front of you.

How can I act normally when I have something major like this weighing down on me?

Your dad immediately notices your shift in behavior.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did the appointment not go as planned?”

“It was fine.” You mumble as you push the food around your plate with a fork.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine.” You angrily toss the fork on the table.

“Y/N, don’t give me attitude.” A stern tone enters your father’s voice.

“Am I not allowed to disagree with your opinions?” You glance at him.

“You can disagree with my choice, but you can’t act like this all of the time. No one will want to marry someone who slouches!” Your father scolds you as if you were a child.

He thinks that he can control me. How naive of him...

You immediately lean back into your chair and slouch just like your father told you not to. He shoots a disapproving glare at you before eating again.

“Maybe I didn’t want to get married in the first place, father.” You fold your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get a choice in the matter.” He nonchalantly states.

“Why? So I don’t end up like you and-”

“Don’t bring that up!” He shouts, and you immediately move to sit straight in your chair.

I’d rather not play with fire tonight.

“Lose the attitude and eat. I’m done playing games with you.” Your father places another bite of food in his mouth as if his little outburst didn’t happen.

“I’m not hungry.” You stand up and push your chair in.

“Y/N, get back-”

“I’m going up to my room.” You mumble as you storm to your bedroom.

~

You sigh as you close the door behind you.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

You remember to lock the door behind you as you step in your room.

Dad let me design the room all by myself when I was a teenager. Although I don’t like some parts of it, this place is comforting to me.

You toss the engagement ring off of your finger before collapsing onto your bed. You bury your head into the pillows while trying to forget about what happened earlier.

This is awful. I hate all of this wedding stuff. None of the planning gets me excited. I don't want to wear some stuffy outfit for majority of the day, and I don’t care about what food is going to be there.

I don’t get a choice about who I’m going to marry, but I get to choose everything else. How fantastic.

A knock at your door interrupts your thoughts.

“Y/N L/N, I have something for you.” A maid’s voice calls from behind the door.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” You shout back, “and please call me Y/N!”

You pull yourself from the comfort of your bed as you unlock and open the door.

“Here. Someone left this for you. They said it was very important that you receive this as soon as possible.” The maid hands you a small rectangular wooden box before scurrying away.

“Thanks!” You shut the door behind you before locking it again.

You carefully sit on the edge of your bed as you set the wooden box on your bed.

It’s barely big enough to fit in both of my hands. I wonder what that lady might've left for me…

Without much hesitation, you open the box in front of you.

Woah. Where did she get these?

Seven gemstones sit in front of you with a small name tag next to each of them.

Why would she give me a gift like this? These must be worth a fortune.

A small slip of paper sits on the interior of the lid, and you don’t hesitate to grab it.

Dear Y/N,

I was a lot like you when I was younger. I was passionate, adventurous, and rebellious. I didn’t follow the rules, and I was forced into a marriage at a young age.

My grandmother gave me these stones on my wedding day. She said that they would show me seven different lives and lovers.

I didn’t believe her until I accidentally slept with one of the stones in my hands. I was shown a world where I wasn’t a girl trapped in a loveless marriage.

It made me realize that even if I couldn’t control my marriage or other things in my life, I could always control how I reacted to those scenarios.

I hope that these stones provide you some sort of clarity and relief before your wedding day.

Just grab the stone that gets your attention, and sleep with it in your hands. You’ll see the magic from there.

Enjoy your last few moments to yourself, Y/N. I wish you nothing but luck in your future marriage.

The note is left unsigned, but the handwriting on the letter matches the handwriting on the measurement sheets that the seamstress had.

Does this really work? Will I be taken to a world far from my own?

...That sounds like paradise to me.

Your eyes fall back to the seven gemstones in front of you. You note that they’re organized in alphabetical order.

Emerald, Garnet, Lapis Lazuli, Moonstone, Rose Quartz, Ruby, and Sapphire. They’re all here.

Your eyes scan the gemstones, but your gaze is caught on the ruby.

Rubies were the gemstones that I loved as a kid. I’d always beg my dad for jewelry that had rubies in them so I could feel like royalty. I wonder if I still have any lying around...

You gently grab the ruby from its place in the box before you close the box. You set the box on the nightstand next to you before admiring the ruby in your hand.

I wonder where this little stone will take me. As long as it’s far away from here, I’m not picky.

You hold the gemstone as you prepare yourself for bed.

Time to find out if this thing works or not.

You grasp the stone tightly in your hand as you pull the covers over your body.

Slowly but surely, you feel yourself drift off to sleep.

~

roses, strawberries, ladybugs, sunsets…

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

blood, fire, danger, revenge…

~

You emerge from your sleep in a slight daze. You yawn as your eyes open, and you sit up on the bed.

Did anything happen? I swear, if that lady made that story up...

You unfold your hand, only to see the ruby missing.

What the-

You look down to see a ruby pendant hanging from your neck.

What is this? Where did I get this from? Is this the ruby from earlier?

You slowly let your eyes trail upwards as your mouth opens wide.

This does not look like my bedroom.

The stone walls that surround you remind you of an old castle. You spot a small wardrobe and bookshelf across from you. The bed that you’re sleeping in is smaller than your own.

Am I even in the same time period? I don’t see my cellphone or clock on the nightstand.

Loud banging from the door on your left causes you to jump out of bed.

“The Queen wishes for your presence in today’s activities.” A gruff voice says from behind the door,

Queen? Today’s activities? What did I sign myself up for?

You jump out of bed and throw on the nicest outfit that you have in that wardrobe. You quickly fix your hair before opening the door.

I mean, I have to look good if I’m meeting a Queen.

You nearly run into the guard outside of your door. He’s at least a foot taller than you, and the armor around his face and body makes him look a lot more muscular.

“C’mon, let’s not leave her waiting. I don’t want to be chewed out again..” The guard grumbles as he begins to walk.

You quickly follow behind him as you stare in awe at the castle walls.

My god, it’s like this place is out of a storybook!

The small hallway leads to a huge throne room, where a large group of people await the arrival of the Queen. A long, golden carpet separates the crowd into two, and the guard escorts you to an empty chair.

“Enjoy the show.” He mumbles before disappearing into the crowd.

The show? Is this a performance by the Queen herself? Is that what he meant by today’s activities?

The sound of a trumpet draws your attention from the golden throne on your right to the large wooden doors on your left.

That’s a distance and a half to walk. I wonder how she does it.

Another trumpet joins in as the large wooden doors begin to open.

Here she comes… Why am I so nervous?

A third trumpet joins the other two as a small man makes his way through the tiny gap in the door. He hurriedly walks down the carpet until he’s near the crowd of people.

“To the lovely people of our country, this woman needs no introduction. Her might, strength, beauty, and courage is known to be constantly on display. She’s charismatic and can woo a crowd with only a wink of her eye.”

The crowd gasps at the man’s words.

I’m kind of intimidated by this woman just based on his description alone. Yet again, she’s a Queen, so those two probably go hand-in-hand.

“With her bright smile and kind eyes, she’s sure to win your heart over! I shall stall for no longer. Ladies, gentlemen, and folks of our country, give it up for the greatest monarch our castle has ever seen…”

The crowd leans forward in anticipation, and you find yourself doing the same.

“Queen SuA!”

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

For the dead| Gregor

Note: YAY I FRICKEN LOVE THE DAY OF THE DEAD- AHHH

also....part 2?

Warnings: none,

Reader: male

"I got new hands for you!"

"yeah! Yeah send em back!" Y/n shouted not bothering to turn his head from his task of washing dishes.

Gregor was nudged forward by Cid, he making his way back, still dressed cladly in his trooper armor.

"Uh. Y/n?" He questioned.

Y/n turned his head, "That's me."

There was an awkward silence, "so..."

"Oh right!" Y/n spoke, "just grab a sponge and a bucket and start scrubbing something."

"That's it?" Gregor asked, his voice staying higher as he talked.

Y/n nodded, "this kitchen's filthy, I offered to help Cid start selling meals here, so it needs to be cleaned before I even start."

Gregor nodded, great. He went from slave of the republic to slave of Cid. Y/n returned to scrubbing dishes as Gregor grabbed a bucket and walked away, Y/n, had already scrubbed seemingly everything in his vicinity.

"Anything in the back?" Gregor questioned voice cracking slightly.

"Yep. Haven't touched it yet." Y/n smiled, "just through the doorway."

Gregor walked through the kitchen, turning into the doorway he almost wanted to barf, he found a whole new respect for Y/n and barely knew the guy, the place stunk of rotten food and garbage.

Had it always been this bad?

Pulling up his sleeves and taking off his gloves, not willing to get his own pair of black gloves dirty he started on the cracked walls, he spent the next hour cleaning one wall.

Getting down to the trim in the corner there was a crack in the wall, small his fingernail it held one flower, bright and eye-catching in color, an orange color, and odd color not seen much around the galaxy.

"Wonder how long you've survived here." He commented, to no one in particular cleaning around the flower carefully. Starting the next wall his sponge split in half, splatting him in the chest plate.

"Damn it." He cursed, tossing the broken sponge in the murky water, "probably should change this all out anyways."

Walking back to Y/n was to ask for a replacement sponge he was greeted with a dark room, a soft glow of orange and yellow at the end of the hall.

"Y/n?" Gregor called, bucket in hand he walked towards the light he ended up at an alter, shelves built like a small pyramid that hung a bit higher than waist height on the wall.

Seeing some of the pictures he picked up one, "This...is this Fives?" He questioned remembering the trooper from way back when.

The shelves were decorated with pictures and flowers, small fruits and drinks, everything brought together with lit candles. That's when he realized, the flowers adorning the altar were the same ones that grew out the walls trim.

Others he didn't realize, some other troopers, sure. A drawn photo of 99 the old defective clone who had been put on cleaning duty on Kamino.

"Hey-"

The sudden noise started him, causing him to jolt forward as he turned to face the voice. Bumping into the shelves as it came tumbling down. Gregor trying to catch it but to no avail, the crashing of glass echoing as it hit the floor in the once spotless kitchen. The two winced at the sound.

"Sorry..." he apologized, bucket still one hand looking back prepared to be yelled at.

"Hey. It's okay." Y/n spoke, "I have more frames and candle glasses."

Y/n quickly sorting through the mess for the photos in the hope they weren't ruined by the spill of food or drink.

"The candles-"

"Battery operated." Y/n spoke, "Im not that stupid."

Gregor set the bucket down, quickly helping, "I'm sorry- I really am-" his voice cracking with nervousness as Y/n started putting things on the counter in a hurry.

"It's okay, really." Y/n told him, "I should have moved it anyways"

Gregor rubbed the back of his neck putting wrecked flowers on the counter. Y/n grabbing a broom and cleaning all the food and glass up, Gregor holding the dustpan as they then cleaned up the spills. It was when they threw anything deemed ineligible for reuse did Gregor take a look back at the structure, it obviously had importance, and he felt bad he had ruined it.

"I shouldn't be asking questions. Not after what I did-" Gregor started, "but what's it for?"

"Hm?" Y/n questioned looking to the side, "oh. A cultural thing,"

Y/n had answered so casually, "Oh, " Gregor replied.

Y/n nodded, "To honor ones that passed on, I, unfortunately, didn't know my parents or family but made a family with those clones I saw drop you off, and some others, passed on friends of my own and the boys put some up there, I helped Omega draw 99 I believe was his name since she didn't have a photo."

"So, anyone can do it?" Gregor questioned.

"Mhm, I don't see why not, as long as you are respectful about it I don't see a problem." Y/n answered, "Thinking about doing it?"

"Me? Oh! Oh no!" He spoke, "Im sure I upset the ones passed on after, well that."

Y/n chuckled, "Im sure they're laughing at it wherever they are, I was laughing at it a bit, how jumpy you were."

"That bad?" Gregor chuckled.

"As high as a loth cat," He spoke now picking through the flowers, some disheveled by impact, Gregor helping in picking out the ruined ones.

"You have a place to sleep?" Y/n questioned.

"Huh?" Gregor questioned, "Uh no, no I don't."

"Wanna stay at my place? I have Menudo in my crockpot at home." Y/n told.

"Men- what?" Gregor asked, he had never heard of such a dish, yet he was more shocked that he had just ruined Y/n's important display and now was being asked if he wanted to sleep and eat at Y/n's home.

"Food, soup to be exact" Y/n spoke with a smile.

"I uh," Gregor tried to start, having trouble with the kindness, he was just recently shot at by some of his closest brothers, "Y-yeah I'd like that."

Y/n smiled, "Trust me, I think you'll like it, Ordo Mantell can get chilly from time to time."

Gregor nodded as Y/n tied up the flowers, bagging the broken ones.

"You're taking them?" Gregor asked, Y/n nodding.

"Yeah I never let my flowers go to waste, usually I make potpourri when the petals have been sundried." Y/n told, "It goes right back to them though, I always have a few vases full behind or between pictures for good luck, if I have too much- usually all the time- the neighboring old woman loves to have them and talk about them with her lady friends."

"You're full of surprises." Gregor commented.

Y/n smiled smally, "Well, I suppose I have a few more up my sleeve, now, shall we? We have about a twenty minute walk."

Gregor nodded Y/n had checked once more that everything was set out to dry, especially the pictures and then they were on there way. Gregor following Y/n like a puppy with his mother. The walk to his apartment was quiet, Y/n stopping a few times at small stands, Gregor didn't pay much attention to it, Y/n picking up some fruit- but what he did was pay attention too was the sigh in Y/n's voice when Vendors said they were out of what both the vendor and Y/n called Marigolds.

"Okay, tomorrow?" Y/n questioned.

"Early, but they're rare, especially out here, I know you want them for culture purposes Y/n but I have people paying double credit for them, my families in a tight spot, so If you can get here before those richins can, you can have them." The girl spoke, "I'm sorry chick."

Y/n sighed, "Okay thank you."

The woman nodded as Y/n had been turned away for the fourth time.

"Come on it's just up ahead." Y/n spoke gesturing across the street.

"Okay."

They walked across the street and into the store, "Afternoon,"

"Afternoon," The old woman smiled, "Ah! You brought a man home! A handsome one at that! Good for you!"

Y/n chuckled, Gregor rubbing the back of his neck flushetered.

"Gregor meet Mrs.Baker, Mrs.Baker Gregor." Y/n introduced.

"An honor mam." Gregor spoke.

"Not only is he a looker! He's a gentlemen!" She prasied, "Look at you!"

Y/n smiled, cheeks flustering shortly, it not going unnoticed by Gregor.

"And a man in uniform!"

"Goodnight Mrs.Baker!" Y/n spoke quickly, pulling Gregor through the small store to the back, "I'll have potpourri for you soon!"

"Your a dear you know that!" She called back as Y/n led Gregor to the steps, Y/n allowing gregor to go up first as they made it to the top of the stairs the door opened relieving a hallway.

"All the way up." Y/n spoke, "The attic."

"You lead the way," Gregor practically begged, Y/n nodded squeezing past him.

He smells good, was gregor's only thoughts as Y/n made it past him leading the way, up two more sets of stairs and up to a hatch, where he opened it.

"Watch yourself." Y/n told Gregor.

Gregor climbed the steep stairs following behind Y/n. It was surpignsly spacious, Y/n's little kitchenette behind where he climbed up from, a nice handmade run covered the floor in front of Gregor. Y/n walked over to his desk, that a bit more fancy as it was built into the angled ceiling a window as light source directly above, he set the bags down as a took cat come out from the seat of the chair.

"hey there." Y/n smiled rubbing it's head, "Meet Alley, Alley meet Gregor."

The tooka cat stay still, enjoying Y/n's pats on the head.

"Like an alley way?" Gregor questioned Y/n nodded.

"It's where I found him after all," Y/n commented, "Oh let me get you food you must be hungry."

Gregor finally made it up all the way after semi gazing at the place, closing the hatch below him. Y/n walking over to the kitchenette as he opened the crockpot lid. Gregor now level with the ground looked around, Y/n's "bed" was more of a large, humongous bean bag, easy to push and move as he needed and was convinet. He had a small table besides it with some candles, wax melted and dripping onto the table. Scanning around he seeing the center window, circular and big in shape, with shelves on the walls surrounding it.

"Is this...what I seen earlier?"

Gregor was infauted to say less, the bright colors of the marigolds contrasted to the cool colors of the dark night of Ordo mantel with the city lights crashing against it. Real candles that once stood tall were now wilted away and dripping wax but still lit. Images again at the center of everything accompanied by food and drink. It was beautiful, but sad, how something which could be so painful could be so beautiful.

"It's...amazing." Gregor commented, Y/n watching him from across the room look with infatuation and awe, Gregor turned back towards Y/n who smiled smally.

"I tried my hardest." Y/n smiled, "I do every year."

"What is this?" Gregor questioned, "All this? For someone who will never see it?"

Y/n's smile went to a flat line, but then he thought- looked at Gregor's armor, that was right. He was a clone, the cloest thing to a properal r memorial or burial was there helmet on a pike.

"That's what's the marigolds are for," Y/n told walking forward next to him, "They guide the souls back to us. I unfortantly can't make much of a path, so I gather as many as I can in one place, it's one way my planet use to honor the dead."

"Use to?" Gregor questioned.

"My home plant went dormaint." Y/n told him, "I try and keep as much as I can alive still."

Gregor frowned, looking away, "I- I'm sorry, you allow me into your house and-"

"No, No it's okay." Y/n spoke, "I understand wanting to know."

Y/n lightly grabbed Gregor's chin, with a light push of his finger's Gregor was looking back at Y/n, eye's catching all too long. Y/n pulled his hand away slowly, clearing his throat only the slightest.

"I'll ask you a question then," Y/n spoke, Gregor nodding.

"You're voice, it cracks and it's higher than than other clones." Y/n commented, "Any reason why?"

Gregor shook his head no, "Suppsoe it was always my little quirk." he chuckled, Y/n smiling, they catching each other's gaze again, but for longer, eyes lingering only one anothers, unlike Gregor, Y/n's were dark dark brown, almost black, with a soft highlight of pastel brown, despite there dark color they were warm and welcoming.

"I," Y/n spoke, "Lets eat?"

[dizzydancingdreamer]

Men who I think would be soft for their baby for no other reasons than because I want them to be, in no particular order but still numbered ten to one because I like countdowns...

———————————————————

I really do be out here exposing myself for a few of these men but I don’t care I don’t need “proof” or “common sense” or “just plain survival instincts” I just need men who are uncharacteristically soft for their babies

———————————————————

Don’t come at me this is for FUN

———————————————————

Part two

———————————————————

10. Gally

Did some bad things, some were his fault and some weren’t, who is rough around the edges, has superiority issues, and needs a therapist more than a girl

STILL SOFT FOR HIS BABY

Higher up in a revolutionary movement and still goes to bed early to cuddle his baby

She sits on his lap during meals and he fights everyone who says anything

Fights anyone who even looks at her wrong 

Tells her he loves her at least three times before he leaves on missions without her

When she goes with him he’s literally next to her the entire time

Does not let her go for hours when they finally get back to base  

So fucking soft for her and only her

——————————————————————————

9. Finnick Odair

Good guy who feels like he has to be bad in order to stay alive but falls a little bit in love with it for a little too long

Begged her to move in with him after his games

Let her decorate the entire house however she wanted 

Writes her love notes before every time he goes to the capital 

Cries to her when he comes home every single time 

When she has to go into the games he volunteers immediately even though he technically isn’t allowed and pulls strings with President Snow to be able to fight 

So he literally kills for her 

And makes sure she never has to fight 

Marries her and tells Coin he won’t fight, stays alive for his baby

10/10 soft as fuck

——————————————————————————

8. Stephen Strange

Narcissistic doctor Avenger who uses the phone while driving

This is the one I have the least proof for but I’m 110% sure when he isn’t wearing the cape he has his baby wrapped around him like a backpack

Crumbles for his baby, I’m talking to his knees, overwhelmed by how pretty and beautiful and wonderful she is, hugging her around the waist

Loves the feeling of her fingers through his hair 

Brings her to every Avengers Gala and practically begs her to leave early so they can go cuddle and eat pizza

Gets so scared whenever he has to do something dangerous

Drops what he’s doing when she calls him, has told off Steve and Tony (don’t start with me) and everyone else 

Peter called him a simp once and after he googled it he looked him dead in the eyes and agreed and then packaged one of the donuts Bucky brought in for his baby and then took it and left

Man is SOFT

————————————————��—————————

7. Vincent Griffith

Reformed witch who frequently gets addicted to dark sacrificial magic and makes choices that are just this side of morally corrupt

Has skipped so many meetings as regent that he probably shouldn’t even be regent anymore 

The king of date night, dancing, fine dining, jazz music, picnics, midnight rituals

Plans every little detail and gets Josh and Davina to help him 

Uses magic to close down entire restaurants for the perfect night

Always holds her hand and sits her in the front row of his coven meetings and pauses the meetings accidentally when he glances over to her and she gives him a thumbs up and he has to literally stop and smile 

Holds her purse without her having to ask, will go to seven different restaurants when she changes her mind on where to eat, hexes people who harm her

Big softie

——————————————————————————

6. Indiana Jones

Literally a womanizing grave robber with very few morals 

Has filled museums with all the things he has STOLEN 

Would still protect his baby from booby traps though

Dresses her up and takes her out everywhere

Cancels class whenever she asks and more often than not when she doesn’t

Would be closer to the snakes so that she won’t have to be

Wouldn’t even think about yelling even when in mortal danger, even when it’s her fault for putting them in that situation 

Answers every question even though she’s asked the same question a thousand times 

Can’t sleep without her at all 

I’m not sorry, he’s soft

——————————————————————————

5. Will Turner

Most feared and ruthless pirate on the sea

Torched a town once because his baby was treated a little too cold by a few too many people

Literally would and has fought a life altering curse for her and won

Kills so many people and still goes to bed early to cuddle in the captain’s quarters

Lets her walk all over the ship in his shirt and watches from behind the wheel, has thrown a man or two overboard when they stare too long

She didn’t even notice

Plays with her on the beach whenever she wants even if it hinders the plans of the crew

Softie alert

——————————————————————————

4. Elijah Mikaelson

A one thousand year old+ elitist vampire with slight anger issues who has zero reason to fall in love with a plain mortal woman 

But there is no way that is going to stop me

Would rip literal hearts out for his baby until he is soaked with blood

Oh, she stubbed her toe at the bar? 

The bar is now torched to the ground along with everyone inside

It’s for his baby

Rebuilds the bar for her, puts it in her name, now it’s her bar and she’s making a shit ton of money

Buys her so many things, even when she says no, especially when she says no

All she has to do is pout and it’s game over 

Has left so many business meetings for her that it is insane

Once bought her a chair seat at Disney because she said she liked Tangled one time and now she makes important decisions she is not qualified to make 

He’s soft, soft, soft

——————————————————————————

3. Eric Coulter

A leader of a terrorist radical government who has outright anger issues and hates people who are different from him

BUUUUUT wouldn’t yell at his baby who is probably from Amity and probably got tricked into being in Dauntless

Lets her sleep in his room because fuck the training quarters that’s sus as hell (even though he’s the one who arranged the training quarters)

Lets her skip all the fighting and does not give a fuck when he gets called out for it, will literally abuse all special privileges 

Would probably do the training simulation for her and tell her how to beat it 

Trails behind her wherever she goes, holds her hand in the cafeteria, has her on his lap when he gets tattoos

Lets her visit home whenever she wants and threatens anyone who says other wise 

HE’S SOFT I JUST KNOW IT OKAY

——————————————————————————

2. Kylo Ren

Kinda evil Supreme leader of the galaxy who has killed many people, including his dad, some who deserved it and some who did not

But wouldn’t even yell at his baby-- would cry if she cried

She sleeps in his bed and when Hux calls him out on it he breaks a desk and then almost kills him

She walks around the ship and he follows her like a puppy and chokes people out when he hears them call him a puppy in their heads

Gives her everything she wants and more, surprises her all the time

Surprise trips to beach planets and fancy events 

Once he gave her a whole ass planet

Always hugging her no matter who is around and what is going on, 

The softest supreme leader in the galaxy

——————————————————————————

1. Thomas Shelby

A literal deadly mob boss who shoots first and asks questions never

Would 110% kill for his lady (and has killed for his lady)

Sexy as fuck, looks good covered head to toe in blood 

Yes, that deserved a point

Soft as fuck for his baby, would shoot a gun and then turn around and listen to her talk about what she wants to knit for their baby

Has paused important mob meetings because his baby wanted to gossip about what Dolly said to her at church four Sundays ago that she forgot to tell him

Keeps her as far removed from the lifestyle as possible even when that means he has to remove himself from it at points to be with her

Has skipped so many poker games without being asked purely because he wants to go home and hug his wife

He is the MOST SOFT

——————————————————————————

[bffhreprise]

Best Friend For Hire Reprise, Entry 381

 “Not tired are you?” questioned Ariadne, who had been testing my abilities and helping me understand how to use them for hours.  There were differences between how to accomplish tasks, since Ariadne’s magic needed control of her emotions just as much as clear mental pictures, but her explanations really did help.

 “P-Processing.” I told her, wondering if she actually thought I ever grew tired.  I felt she should know better, considering she knew what I am.  At the moment, I was still revising her first lesson, current lesson, and all of the ones in-between as well as considering some other possibilities for my magic.  I was thankful to know that my weird ability to see other places wasn’t monstrous, since Ariadne could do it too, just not as well.  Part of my mind was still coming to terms with the idea that I had been subconsciously using magic my entire life.  Thankfully, Ariadne didn’t think I had inadvertently hurt anyone.

 “No, Dani, I don’t think you should make requests of Raine quite yet.  Let her keep practicing.” stated James in reply to something Dani had asked in her native tongue.  The musical language of her people was still beyond me without lessons, but a few words seemed to make sense to me.

 “But Daddy!  This would be practice!” she insisted in English.

 James switched to Dani’s native tongue, and Dani’s smile turned impish, a sure sign she had been caught being mischievous again.

 Alma took a few steps over to hug Dani from behind before saying, “Dani, behave.  Birthday girls get to make the requests here.”

 “I… d-don’t mind.” I told them, moving back and forth between where they were talking and where Ariadne was, not wanting Ariadne to think I was ignoring her.  I was aware of the vampire brothers watching me, probably unaccustomed to seeing someone in two different places, but playing with Papak had shown me that they were practically frozen in place compared with me, just like everyone else.

 Meanwhile, Ariadne was telling me about tricks she had discovered over the years to quickly diagnose health problems in different types of creatures.  I doubted some of the tricks would work quite as well for me, not having a couple thousand years of experience in recognizing different types of cellular damage, but she seemed confident that I’d get the hang of it.

 James was staring at Dani, whose smile only grew.

 “A playmate for Alberich!” she suggested, finally letting us know what she wanted.

 Alma sighed before saying, “She probably shouldn’t attempt life yet.”

 “Is that really possible?” questioned Maple.

 “Of course, though creating life takes far more energy than you’d probably expect.” replied Ariadne, having finally reached them.  “I certainly can’t recommend doing it until Raine is very confident in her abilities.  Getting something slightly off is very easy and potentially lethal for the new creature.”

 “What about creating an enhancement suit for Pufflewink?” suggested James, obviously thinking that Pufflewink could keep up that way.

 For several seconds, I considered different modifications to the suits, considering how cute they could look.  While considering cuteness, I also considered whether or not Pufflewink would feel comfortable.  Like all kitties, Pufflewink liked warmth, and the suits were designed to ensure a certain level of warmth.  Everyone else had adapted to the feel fairly quickly, so I imagined Pufflewink might as well.  After letting myself enjoy numerous scenarios of my kitty playing around in her new suit, I double-checked a rather important part of this idea, asking “I c-can?”

 James nodded, saying, “As long as Jarod doesn’t mind.”

 “That’s an awesome idea, man-slave!” insisted Emma, grinning broadly.

 “I’ll admit that I’m intrigued to see what spells go into these things.” commented Vito eagerly.

 “Suit design is a trade secret, so no giving it away to anyone.” stated Jarod loudly to be heard over everyone.  “Mila, would you mind adjusting the design for felines?”

 “Already optimizing the fiber configuration.” she replied, sounding amused.  “Master, mind if we borrow your office briefly?”

 “Feel free.  Raine, I think she wants you upstairs.” encouraged James, smiling as well.

 I nodded to him, and then went into the office.  Quest gladly accepted!  At the speed of Mila, the entire room transformed into screens for me to inspect with additional screens forming up from the tiny ball things that came out of the floor.  Everything from molecular composition of the substances involved to the details on how James’ spells interacted with the physical form were on display.

 Downstairs, James was commenting to Jarod “I hope you know that she’ll never forget the designs.”

 Jarod grinned broadly.  “And I hope you realize that I have many, many plans that could use her aid.”  He was doing his villain act again.  On one hand, he really was good at looking like an evil mastermind.  On the other hand, he was a good person and wouldn’t actually attempt anything evil.

 In the free time I had between taking in the different screens, I considered if I was really capable of meeting Jarod’s expectations.  Yes, I was learning to use my magic, but I didn’t have anywhere near Ariadne’s level of mastery.  Sure, the best way to get there was practicing, but what if I oopsed again?  Energy research could be dangerous.  Would I be able to contain things?  Maybe Jarod wanted safer experiments first…  He’d listen if I told him I wasn’t ready for anything dangerous, right?  More scenarios erupted in my mind, but I didn’t have faith in them.  Jarod was very nice, but he could also be a little… obsessive.

 “If she comes back with a finished suit, I’ll be most disappointed.” stated Vito with a frown.

 “No need to be disappointed.  I’ll gladly show you the spell.” James told him.  “I just ask that you don’t utilize it for your kind yet.”  When Vito nodded his agreement, James created his spell.

 For once, I really studied what went into the spell, committing the entire arrangement of energy to memory.  Though I didn’t have confidence in duplicating such effects with my own magic yet, I could arrange residual energy, just like the others.  Mila was already showing me modifications to the spell on some of the screens, having shown me a 3D model of it already.

 Emma sighed and said, “You guys really know how to bring down a party.”

 “We’re partying?” questioned Noelle, seeming to have forgotten the conical hat on her head.  She was so adorable, and I wondered what she was showing the others.  Sadly, her magic couldn’t affect me through my own magic, so I couldn’t see.

 “Yes.  Today’s Raine’s birthday.” replied Dejon with a patient smile.  He had been working with her lately.

 I mentally danced through the room I had already prepared for them as a couple, in hopes of them dating.  He liked her, paying far more attention to her than he had paid attention to anyone else, and she certainly seemed interested whenever she looked at him.  I put the new memory of them together in goofy party hats up on a shelf, admiring it.

 Noelle’s eyes brightened, happy as ever.  “I should tell her Happy Birthday!”

 I mentally thanked her again, adding another tally in my mind’s personal room for her under the times she wished me a happy birthday today as I continued studying and connecting all of the pieces Mila was feeding me.

 “She’s off making something for her cat at the moment.” explained Dejon.

 “She has a cat!?  I love cats!” she exclaimed excitedly.

 There was a whole section of Noelle’s private room in my mind dedicated to her playing with Pufflewink.  The adorableness delighted me.

 “Me too!” exclaimed Kayla, lifting up Alberich, who had been leaning against Alma’s leg for the past minute.

 Alberich was a very proud, very small lion, but he didn’t swipe at Kayla this time.  Through our chats, I had learned that Alma spoiled him far too much when he was young, which was probably why he could be a bit snooty.  Luckily, even Alberich found Noelle cute, affected by her magic just like most everyone else—poor James didn’t know what he was missing.  When Noelle pet him, I could imagine how easily Alberich recognized her delight.

 Not long after Noelle and Kayla started playing with Alberich, Mila informed everyone that I would be indisposed for several more minutes—she could only show me things so fast.  I would also need some time to practice before I would be satisfied.  Everyone but me went to the ballroom to dance instead of gaming for once.  There were more cat-themed party decorations in there, and I was determined to join them soon.

 After I finished the material that Mila had for me, I started asking her questions and was surprised to find she liked my ideas for a few modifications in the suit.  She had originally assumed that I would simply remove the suit whenever Pufflewink wanted to go potty, but agreed with me when I pointed out that my little kitty would probably get disoriented by the sudden loss of enhancements more than our friends did.  With a bit of work, we came up with some alterations that should work, and Mila found some additional cleaning spells she felt would be better suited for cats.  Four-hundred-and-seventy-two variations later, Mila and I were satisfied that we had a suit Pufflewink would like, so I fetched her and created the suit around her.

 The difference was notable as soon as I saw my little kitty move.  She was confused, but I talked to her and warned her she’d need to be a little more careful.  Mila insisted the difference in strength and speed was considerable, so I took her word for it.  Satisfied that Pufflewink was happy, I took her down to join the others, dancing along with her in my arms.

 Mila felt the need to stick a spotlight on me the moment I arrived, but I didn’t mind.  James and Alma came over to examine the suit.

 “Were you successful?” he asked.

 “M-Maybe.” I replied, not as confident as Mila.

 He grinned as he said, “We should test it later before Alberich and Pufflewink play too much together.”

 I nodded in agreement.  Pufflewink would need more time to adjust to her new abilities.  “I-I should… visit… with… Ariadne.” I told him after considering a number of scenarios where Ariadne examined my kitty to make sure the enhancement suit was agreeing with her.

 When James and Alma moved to hug me, I was surprised, but I only considered dodging for a very brief moment.  I did like hugs, and neither of them would accidentally squeeze Pufflewink too hard.

 “I hope you’re having a wonderful birthday, Raine.” stated James as he hugged me.

 I nodded and smiled at my friends, telling them “B-Best ever.”

 “No.” stated James, making me consider what was wrong.  He then clarified “We plan to make each one better.”

 I probably stared at him too long when he said that and nearly let myself cry.  James was such a kind, wonderful person, and I would be grateful to him forever.  I was certain he underestimated how much he had done for me—modest as he was—but giving me a home where I am accepted, despite what I am, was already the best present I could receive in a lifetime.

[barbenheimer-core]

AUDERE EST FACERE !

하나. chanel : part four — 3k words

Wangja crossed the street with a bag of two steaming bowls of ramyeon and red ginseng, speeding up his pace to prevent the noodles from getting too soggy while he walked the path over to his shop where he had left Ahyeong at, sighing as he thought about the new addition to the cast.

When he had walked into his store last night, he was not expecting a stage to commence immediately upon entering the lounge.

Thank the writer (this was the first and last time he was going to say that) that their conversation and actions had already been written out, or else the shop owner would've been gawking at the new girl for the entirety of the stage.

He had been immensely startled back then; it was unusual for him to not know the timing and plot of every stage because he always made sure to check the comic that permanently resided in a small, hidden corner of his shop every single day.

But when he had browsed the comic as soon as Ahyeong had left, he had been bewildered at the sudden shift in the book's contents.

The cast page had been altered to feature four main characters instead of the original trio, and as he had turned the pages, he had noticed the new stages being inked with interactions that had never been present as of before.

To think that an already complicated web of troubling relationships had not been enough for the writer, they had proceeded to add a love square to the mix.

Wangja grimaced at his creator's choices in life. They had definitely been influenced by someone to do so if it had been so last minute.

But one thing was for sure; out of all the stories that the writer had put him in, this was by far the most interesting.

"Ahyeong-ah! I'm back!" he yelled into the air as he stepped in, his voice echoing in the shop.

The silence was his only response.

Confused, he stepped through the streamers that decorated the lounge's archway, eyes searching for the girl while he set the food down on the coffee table next to the abandoned copy of Shiver.

"Ahyeong, are you here-"

He stopped abruptly, gaze finding the peach cover of True Beauty toppled upside down on the floor in front of a shelf he swore no one would notice.

With dread in his mind, he picked it up, turning it around, only to be faced by the drawn version of the person he was looking for.

Oh no. She'd seen it.

If Gilyeong had to describe his sister at that moment, he would've said she looked like she'd risen from a grave in a zombie apocalypse movie.

She looked dead. Alive, yes, but dead.

Like someone had told her whole life was a lie.

When Ahyeong had arrived back home from wherever she had dashed off to during the morning, she had looked like she'd gone through the five stages of grief, questioned the meaning of life, and ran a marathon through the streets of Seoul by how hard she was breathing.

He had almost asked her if she was okay, but that would've come off as him being "concerned for his dear sister," as Eunjung had so uselessly put it, and he hated proving people right. And besides, Ahyeong was clearly not okay.

"Oye, grinch," he called out across the table after seeing her actions.

She looked as if she hadn't even heard him. No annoyed flinch, no irritated twitching of her eyebrow; no reaction at all. Just her mindlessly trying to eat soup with chopsticks.

Eunjung looked at her with an extreme amount of concern.

Gilyeong almost puked at the feeling of worry in his gut.

Ahyeong was functioning on auto-pilot, her consciousness having taken a backseat as the only thing that moved her was sheer muscle memory.

She couldn't even remember how she had come back to her house, however, the stinging in her legs informed her of how she had deserted the shop and ran all the way back home, much to Driver Kwon's horror.

Her head felt empty.

Being in a comic? As a bully? That had to be the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, or read, about herself.

It did not make sense. She was quite literally a model student, with a record as clean as glass. Being reduced to the likes of a bully? Impossible.

And then the derealisation came in.

This probably wasn't real after all. Maybe it was just one big practical joke blown out of proportion.

Yeah, that was it, she concluded as she finally became aware of her surroundings, dropping the chopsticks in her hands with a confused look and picking up a spoon to continue eating her soup, unaware of the small breath of relief from across the table.

That weird paralysis thing hadn't happened since the other day anyway, so she was probably going to be okay.

TURN.

What a fucking lie, you're kidding—

The doors to the house banged open, harshly knocking against the walls and startling the occupants of the dining room.

Song Hwayoung came inside the house, immediately making Eunjung receive her in a hurry and assist her with taking off her coat and setting her a pair of slippers.

Ahyeong was panicking. Why now? The universe was being unnecessarily cruel. Her body felt like a rock, cemented into the ground. The air got colder, the lights felt different, brighter somehow, as if someone was shining a spotlight down on her family, as if a grim situation was about to ensue.

Ahyeong almost got up to greet her mother, but sat back down after seeing the subtle shake of Gilyeong's head, who hastily looked down at his empty plate after Hwayoung came to sit at the head of the table.

Her mother looked like she had been trying to bottle up her anger the whole day, and the cap was finally about to burst.

Ahyeong felt unsettled at the sudden change in demeanor. Her mother had never gotten this furious before, ever. She attempted to stand, but she was glued to her seat and could only watch as Hwayoung glared daggers at Gilyeong.

She threw a stack of papers in front of Gilyeong, who shrunk into his seat when he saw its contents.

"What is this?" Hwayoung inquired, trying her best to appear calm.

The young boy mumbled a reply in a voice so small that it was barely audible.

Hwayoung flared her nostrils, "Say it louder!"

Both siblings flinched at the volume. "My report card," the youngest said shakily.

Why was her mum flipping over a simple report card? It's not like grades mattered—

"Even I know that it's a fucking report card. What I want to know is why your grades dropped to C's and D's and why the hell you're failing in math?"

Ahyeong's eyes widened, either involuntarily or of her own free will, she didn't know. Hwayoung cursing at her brother and raging over his academic report? That was quite literally the opposite of how her mother was. Hwayoung was supposed to be the sweetest person she'd ever known, understanding and supportive through every endeavor.

For a moment she considered if her mother had been replaced by a clone of a crueler version of her. With the bullshit that was happening to her right now, the theory did not even feel that far-fetched.

At Gilyeong's silence, Hwayoung scoffed, "All of this was happening and you didn't even bother telling me? I was in a phone call with your friend's mother who told me her son had scored first place but when she mentioned how you weren't even in the top ten do you know how humiliated I felt?"

She stood up abruptly, throwing her chair back, which was immediately caught by Eunjung, and scowled at the boy, not a single trace of warmth in her eyes that her daughter was familiar with, "What an embarrassment to the Song name. At least your sister fares better than you."

With that, she stalked away, heels clicking against the marble floors as she retreated to her room.

TURN .

Ahyeong got up as soon as she could control her movements, rushing over to Gilyeong whose eyes had become red and puffy as he sniffled.

She pulled him in between her arms, and he shook uncontrollably, Eunjung watching the ordeal with downtrodden eyes, wishing she could help.

This was far beyond what she thought would happen. No, that woman could not have been their mother.

As she put her brother to sleep that night, she came to a solution.

Stepping into the elevator to reach Cloud9 Officetel's terrace the next day, her resolve strengthened.

This nightmare was ending, one way or the other.

Jugyeong was quite possibly living the worst nightmare she'd ever had.

The world was too cruel. Beauty was only on the inside, they said. What a horrible lie.

She had been humiliated beyond measure. All she tried to do was convey her honest feelings to quite possibly the only person who had ever been genuinely kind to her. She would've been fine if Wang Hyunbin had simply rejected her and decided to stay as friends. But for him and Semi to destroy her pride and self-worth like that? Because of how she looked?

She felt her eyes burning with warm tears before they cascaded down her cheeks, the cold wind at the top of the building harshly biting at her skin and rattling her bones.

She shivered.

Cold, it was too cold. What a day to die.

Jugyeong's hands hovered over her phone's screen as she stared at her mother's contact. Would her family even mourn her? Good riddance, they would probably think.

But she had to tell someone, and even if her mother was harsh with her words, she still loved her. She had to tell her the reason why she was about to jump off of a building.

Just as her finger leaned down to press the call button, the door to the rooftop opened, and Jugyeong jumped in shock, turning around to see who had come in.

She did a double-take.

Was God personally consenting to her taking her own life? Because she was pretty sure he had sent down an angel to escort her soul into heaven.

Her glasses had been abandoned on the bench she'd been sitting on from when she had been trying to wipe her tears, so she couldn't really see the person properly, but even with bad eyesight, the stranger looked almost ethereal.

They were dressed in a black dress and heels, as if they had gone to a funeral, or were planning to go to one.

They stopped upon seeing Jugyeong's disheveled self.

Was God finally being kind to her in her final moments?

Mind in a haze and not thinking straight, Jugyeong broke down yet again.

Ahyeong was startled at the girl crying in front of her. She didn't think there was going to be someone else up there other than herself.

When she looked closer at the girl who was sobbing uncontrollably in front of her, she noticed who it was, immediately taking a few steps back on instinct.

Moon Gayoung? Why was she in a school uniform— oh.

You've got to be kidding me.

What luck she had, walking right into the girl this world literally revolved around.

She felt something pulling away at her in the back of her mind, sending warning bells down her spine, saying she wasn't supposed to be there. But why?

Ahyeong's heart almost burst out of her ribcage when Jugyeong threw herself at her, clutching almost painfully at her waist and sobbing into her dress.

She froze at the sudden contact, arms awkwardly hovering over the girl's shoulders.

Jugyeong had probably not recognized her yet, because there was no way she was hugging her future tormentor just like that.

"Th-thank y-y-you for c-coming," the girl said between choked breaths, "F-for being- for being here in my—" she struggled to say the words, "—my final moments."

Ahyeong stilled at that.

By the time her words had registered, she already knew what was happening.

This was the scene from the drama, she remembered, when Jugyeong had tried to kill herself because of the incident at school.

How ironic. Ahyeong almost laughed at her situation, they were here for the same fate for almost the same reason. Both didn't like the world that they lived in.

But for the Song girl, this was a test, really. A theory she came up with in the dead of the night.

The sensation of falling, that knee-jerk reaction, and the feeling of finally waking up from your dream. That was what she was hoping for. She wasn't here to die, she was here to go back to living her own life.

But the girl who clung to her was dead set on ending things, and frankly, that was a dreadful thought.

Ahyeong had no intention of leaving her as she was, be this a fictional world or not, Im Jugyeong was a human being who deserved a lot more than she got.

"Were you going to jump?"

Jugyeong's thoughts came to a halt as the Angel asked a question, the oddly familiar lilt of her voice bringing a strange mix of foreboding and warmth in her gut.

Still shaking, she only nodded against her shoulder.

"Why?"

"Because-" she sniffled, tightening her arms around them, "because everyone hates me," her voice faded at the end, and her wobbly knees gave in, making her sink into the hard floor and dragging the person along with her.

This time, the Angel wrapped her arms around her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

"Jugyeong, things may seem horrible for you at the moment, and you have every right to be upset over what was said and done, but it is impossible to know answers to such questions when you're so overwhelmed."

The words cut through her haziness, her cries slowly stopping as what they said registered in Jugyeong's mind.

"You don't really want to die, do you?"

It felt weird, being told such things by a stranger.

Maybe deep down she had already known, but her despair had overtaken her senses and disregarded her common sense.

"Why were you really about to call your mother?"

Because she was hoping someone would stop her. To make sure someone really did care about her despite appearances.

The Angel patted her back, and slowly pulled away, only to firmly place their hands on Jugyeong's shoulders.

"Your family's waiting."

She didn't need to be told twice.

Maybe God was kinder than she thought.

It was getting dark now.

The cold evening air nipped at her skin as Ahyeong stood on the edge, heels digging into the concrete as she gazed down below.

What a hypocrite she was, telling all those things to Jugyeong.

She'd sent her home with a taxi after their ordeal, and Jugyeong had not even looked at her once through the whole thing.

She didn't know why.

The road was buzzing with activity, cars zooming past on asphalt, people walking home on the footpaths, vendors selling seasonal goods by the side.

It seemed to be a normal day.

She wondered how the rest of their day would go if her body suddenly flopped down there.

Gooseflesh rose on her arms. All of this was too real.

She slapped herself, the stinging spreading through her numb skin and making her wince in pain.

What was she doing? Was she really about to jump off a building just to test a theory out?

What if it failed? The pain in her cheek would pale in comparison to what would happen should she fall.

And the people waiting for her back home, thinking she was off paying her respects to an old friend. Gilyeong and Eunjung would be destroyed.

Ahyeong stepped back. No, she couldn't do this. She wasn't planning on dying today. Or anytime soon really.

She'd just have to get used to living here—

TURN.

Song Ahyeong stepped closer to the edge of the building, awaiting her doom.

What the fuck!? She didn't want to die, shit, shit, shit—

The LED screen behind her lit up in hues of pink and purple, colorful shadows falling on her dress that did nothing against the frigid wind.

Jung Seyeon's face graced the billboard in the distance, an ode from the people to celebrate the day he was born, and an apology for being the reason he died.

One more step and she would fall. No, no, one more step and she'd fall—

Ahyeong leaned forward closing her eyes for the last time.

NO!

And so, she fell backward.

Wait, backward?

TURN.

Ahyeong barely registered the iron grip on her wrist before it was tugged hard, her stiletto losing its balance and twisting her foot at an unnatural angle.

She widened her eyes as her vision blurred, surroundings moving too fast, and braced herself for the impact on the rough concrete.

It never came.

Instead, she fell on the person who had taken the liberty of pulling her back, and subsequently saving her. Groaning, she raised her head, squinting against the bright light of the advertisement.

"What a relief," Suho breathed out.

The ColorBeauty commercial cast the glow of its neon colors over their faces, and as the faint melody of Seyeon's voice filled the silence in the air, Song Ahyeong knew that somehow, she had fucked up.

masterlist

© 2021 Alfia Sheikh, All Rights Reserved

[readyplayerhobi]

Flower | 40 | End

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst

; Word Count: 6.9k

; Warnings: Slight anxiety attack, mentions of panic, slight body issues

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: So...this is it 😢 Flower is officially over! I started writing this on November 15th, 2019. Almost a year later, here we are with 40 chapters, 3 drabbles and 180k of words. Can you believe I actually finished it? I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading it and the journey of the MC finding herself and falling in love with Hoseok. It’s been so fun to write and it’s sad to let it go. If you’ve enjoyed reading this, please let me know with a comment or an ask! I’ve loved reading how much you’ve all felt seen or embraced by the MC with her struggles and I’d love to hear your thoughts on not only this chapter but the whole fic! Feedback is what keeps authors going and I came very close to leaving writing once Flower was finished but I’m still going to carry on. I’m not sure if this chapter is good or not, but I hope you enjoy it anyway and think it a fitting end to the story!

; Flower Masterpost

-

“Okay...okay. Let’s do this...you can do this. It’s easy. Just...walk down the aisle. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? Well, Hoseok could not be there or I could have a heart attack and drop down dead. That would suck. But it would resolve a lot of my issues, I wouldn’t have to worry about everyone watching me. On the other hand...I’m going to marry the love of my life. As long as he turns up” The soft sounds of your muttering are probably barely heard over the soft playing music through the speakers in the room, YouTube playing mindlessly to itself.

It was a good job, as it meant that no one else in the room could hear your panicked thoughts that were being verbalised. Hoseok and you had decided to get married at an exquisite mansion hotel with the ceremony itself being in the elegant gardens outside. There was a full-sized maze alongside a stunning fountain, the centrepiece being a marble depiction of Aphrodite rising from the shallows.

You’d taken a walk around the perfectly groomed gardens the night before, taking in all the decorations that you’d painstakingly picked out over the months that had been artfully arranged by the staff. The flowers in the gardens were beautiful, a smorgasbord of pinks, oranges, violets, reds and yellows that brought the whole area to life. Alongside it looking visually perfect, it also smelled amazing as well with the soft scent of different flowers mixing.

At night, the tiny fairy lights that had been strung up around the building front and the metal trellises that were organised in the garden gave off a soft, golden glow. It made the whole place look ethereal and you were excited for everyone else to get to see it during the reception tonight.

The actual wedding ceremony was scheduled to start at two in the afternoon, with only friends and family invited for that. It would be outside as well, with Hoseok and you standing at the end of a make-shift aisle on the lawn section of the hotel’s garden. Temporary chairs had been arranged on both sides for your guests, dark wood with ivory silk draped over everyone. At the end of the aisle, each chair had a silk bow in ivory and deep purple alongside a bouquet of specially arranged flowers. 

It all looked perfect and you’d marvelled at it yesterday, amazed that they’d managed to bring your vision to life. Now all you had to do was walk down it and get married, which was where you were a little panicked.

The room that had been assigned to the bridal party was on the lower floor of the hotel, reducing the risk of you potentially killing yourself by tripping over your dress while walking down the stairs. It was technically two hotel rooms connected through a shared bathroom, which you found bizarre.

Your mom and Hoseok’s mom had taken the other room for their use to get changed, the hairdresser and makeup artist they’d hired working there to make them look their best for the ceremony. Even now, you could hear them chattering and laughing away with each other. Even through your anxiety, you can’t help but smile as you hear them get on so well.

Any fears you’d had about them not liking each other had quickly disappeared. Instead, they’d become good friends and liked to meet up now and then to have a talk over coffee or something. It pleased you to see your mom getting to have more friends.

Eden and Amelia had also chosen to get ready in that room, not wanting to crowd the one you were in too much. It was already full of dresses and a ridiculous amount of makeup and hair product with only four of you so you couldn’t even imagine the chaos with five of you.

In your room was Soyeon, Chungha and Dahyun alongside you. Dahyun was currently three months pregnant, having successfully been inseminated with Jungkook’s sperm. He’d agreed to their request and after a few months of getting prepared for the attempts, Dahyun had undergone the procedure. What it had been exactly, you didn’t know because you hadn’t felt it was your business to pry into something like that.

It was a privilege to even know they were trying before anyone else. Their announcement had come at your bachelorette party when Dahyun had refused alcohol, immediately leading Soyeon and you to be suspicious. You’d never seen Chungha’s beloved ever turn down a drink so it had been a clear sign of something at least.

Needless to say, your party had happily become a celebration of their impending baby. Thankfully, you weren’t one of those people who got overly annoyed at others announcing things at events. Or at least, not big events. Your bachelorette party had been a perfect time to find out, whereas you might not have been so amenable if they’d told everyone today instead.

That was normal though, right? Today was your day. Yours and Hoseok’s. People who felt the need to co-opt special days like that were a special type of self-absorbed in your opinion.

Given it was so early into her pregnancy, Dahyun isn't showing that much. Which meant her bridesmaid dress hadn’t needed to be altered too much. None of them has gotten into their dresses just yet, instead currently in the process of getting their face and hair done. Chungha’s hair has already been done, elegantly styled into a beautiful updo with a few tendrils curled around her face.

The makeup for the girls was a smokey eye with subtle blush and contour, alongside a neutral lip. It wasn’t anything flashy, but you’d loved the concept of it all. Particularly with the small and delicate crystals that dotted along their waterline, adding a little sparkle to match the tiny crystals on their deep violet dresses.

As a present to each of them, you’d bought them a gift set from Pandora. In each one was a pair of dainty stud earrings with a heart design alongside a matching heart-shaped pendant necklace. All the hearts were encrusted with brilliant-cut stones, making the perfect gift that could be used again in the future for casual use.

They’d all been in awe of it and surprised at being given presents as well. You hadn’t even known it was a thing until you’d looked up wedding preparation online, discovering that you should also buy something for Hoseok. Which had led to you buying him the fancy watch he’d been drooling over for months now. It had been eye-watering expensive, but it had been worth it for his excited text this morning.

Along with the watch, you’d also written him a letter. It was meant to be light-hearted and fun, but you’d ended up writing way too much as you’d poured out your love to him alongside everything you felt for him. To your eternal embarrassment, you’d ended up crying while writing it as you’d told him everything you’d never been able to vocalise, including writing possibly a million times that you love him.

He’d been instructed to not read that until just before the ceremony.

His present to you was a gaming table, which might not seem to be very sentimental to anyone else but you’d been ecstatic over it. For years now, you’d been saying that you wanted to buy a proper table that was designed for board games and that could then be used as a normal table when converted. They were super expensive so you’d resigned yourself to never getting one, but he’d printed out the receipt of what he’d ordered and put it into an envelope for you to open tonight.

Neither of you had ever been a traditional couple, and that certainly wasn’t about to change with marriage.

“Hey, you okay?” Amelia asks, interrupting your intense thought process as she sits down next to you. As usual, her aura is warm and reassuring as she reaches over to gently squeeze at your hand. You don’t spend a huge amount of time around her, but you knew both Eden and her enough to want them in your bridal party.

“Yes? No? Maybe? I don’t know. I’m just…” Trailing off, you struggle to find the right words and instead gesture towards the air. It makes no sense but you can’t quite figure out what you’re trying to say. Mainly because you can’t figure out what your mind is thinking.

“It’s okay to be worried, don’t feel like you shouldn’t be. If you’re anxious or nervous then that’s okay as well. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should be feeling, just feel what you are. Trust Hoseok, trust yourself and all your family and friends. We’re all here for you and we want you to have the best day possible. Tell us if anything is wrong, okay? I have no doubt that Chungha and Soyeon would strong-arm everyone into whatever was necessary to make you feel comfortable.” She says, smirking as she nods over to the two women who are chattering away in their respective chairs.

“I know, I know. I’m trying. It’s just...god, everyone is going to be staring at me and I hate being the centre of attention,” Looking down at your hands, you chew at your lips. “What if I mess up the vows? Or I freeze or drop the ring?”

“Hey, it’s normal to feel that. I doubt there’s anyone who’s gotten married who wasn’t at least a little bit anxious about messing something up. Yes, everyone is here to watch you, but they’re for Hoseok too. I’m sure he’s just as worried that he might make a mistake, and if you do then, so what? It’s not going to ruin anything, it just means your human. If anything, people will probably find it endearing. The only person you should concern yourself with is Hoseok, and I doubt there’s anything you could do today to ruin the day for him. Unless you don’t go.” Amelia laughs when you give a shocked gasp, jaw-dropping open and eyes wide.

“I would never do that! But what if he decides he doesn’t want to get married anymore?” Now the worry that had wiggled itself deep inside your mind comes to the fore and you find yourself almost whispering the words. It feels like a betrayal to Hoseok for even thinking he’d do that, but you can’t help the fear.

You must not have been quite enough though as Chungha speaks up, facing you in her chair with a stern expression on her face as she wags her finger. “Lady, do not think that. I don’t want that thought to even enter your head. As if Jung Hoseok is ever going to back out now. I think that man would’ve eloped with you if you’d asked instead. He’s going to be standing at the end of that aisle, probably bawling like a baby.”

“Maybe not that far.” This is from Eden, who’s laid out on the bed in the centre of the room, playing Zelda on her Switch. She’d had her makeup done earlier and is now waiting for the hairdresser to be free while Amelia is waiting for her makeup. All of you had decided that you’d be last to get ready to make sure that everything looked as fresh as possible.

“Want to bet? That man is gonna be sobbing.” This starts up a whole ten-minute discussion about whether or not Hoseok was going to cry at seeing you. Namjoon hadn’t cried but Jimin had during their weddings, surprising no one. But Namjoon had cried at the birth of his daughter.

You weren’t sure, to be honest. Hoseok didn’t cry all that often and you could probably count on one hand how many times you’d seen it over four years. On top of that, you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted to see him crying. It made your chest hurt when he did and you always ended up crying too.

Something about seeing strong and proud men cry was just heartbreaking to you. 

For a while, you just sit back and let the conversation wash over you as they all debate and borderline argue, intensely amongst themselves. They’d all switched around now and they’ll soon start getting into their bridesmaid’s dresses, which meant you’d be finally getting ready.

Your nails had been done the night before with a beautiful design in the same colour scheme as the wedding. They looked so pretty and elegant, which was a surprise to you every time you looked at them as you never really bothered doing your nails. While you liked to do fancy makeup looks now and then to post onto social media, nails were not something you were interested in.

Maybe you should reassess that thought.

“Anyway, what we’re all trying, and failing, to say is that Hoseok loves you and if he doesn’t cry then he’s crying inside at how beautiful you are.” Soyeon states firmly, sitting next to you and admiring your nails as well. All the bridesmaids had the same style to keep the theme going and she wiggled her fingers with a bright smile.

“I’m not even ready yet, you don’t know if I’ll be beautiful.”

There’s dead silence in the room after the comment, with even the hairdresser and makeup artist turning to stare at you. Between the six other women in the room, you’re pretty sure that they’ve got every emotion from shock to annoyance to incredulity covered. Feeling yourself get warm at their attention, you look down to your lap in embarrassment.

Obviously, the wrong thing to say.

“Okay, we’re going to ignore that you just said that. You don’t need to be dolled up and in a wedding dress to be beautiful, it’s just going to enhance what you already have. And I don’t want any arguments on that.” Poking your side lightly, you playfully wince at Soyeon as she scolds you. Everyone else is nodding along solemnly before they carry on with whatever they’d been doing.

“Seriously though, I overheard your conversation with Amelia. She’s right. Embrace your feelings but don’t let them overwhelm you. Standing in front of a crowd is nerve-wracking for anyone, but you’ve got the love of your life standing there with you. Just focus on Hoseok, he’ll get you through it. He always has, right?” Soyeon said.

Giving her a half-smile, you nod and do a remarkably good job of looking like a scolded child or something. You know it’s just because she loves you that she doesn’t want you to berate yourself, along with the fact that she knows what you’re like. If someone doesn’t verbally acknowledge your problems then you’ll just obsess over them.

Your phone screen lights up in your lap before it begins to vibrate suddenly, Hoseok’s name visible on the screen. Frowning down at it, you wonder why he’s calling before a multitude of emotions and thoughts runs through your mind.

“Go take it in the bathroom.” Pulling you up, Soyeon practically pushes you into the bathroom before giving you a smile and a thumbs-up as she closes the door.

Seeing the other door is also open, you peek out and let everyone in that room know that you’d be using the bathroom for a few minutes and to not come in. Once you get the acknowledgement, you close and lock it as well before pushing up to sit on the counter.

“Hobi! Why are you calling?” Leaning back against the mirror, you frown deeply as you question him. The first response is just his familiar deep chuckle, the sound already helping to soothe some of your frayed nerves.

“Amelia texted Joon, who told me. I don’t want you to stress yourself out! Not today, today’s meant to be a happy day. No stress. Or anxiety.” Snorting, you roll your eyes as you trace an invisible design onto your thigh.

“Sure, like that’s gonna happen. You know me. And why are you calling? We’re not meant to see each other until the wedding, it’s bad luck!” There’s a brief pause and you can practically hear him rolling his eyes, the deep sigh he lets out telling you all you need to know.

“Meeps, I’m pretty sure that only counts for physically seeing each other. I can’t see you right now. I don’t recall anything about not being allowed to hear you, or talk to you. Besides, we make our luck.” He sounds so nonchalant and now it’s your turn to sigh at him.

“You’re going to get us hit by lightning or something.”

“Impossible, the weather schedule for today is meant to be sunny with a little bit of cloud later on. Nice warm temperatures that aren’t too hot but also not too cold. Perfect. No lightning.” His immediate rebuttal has you laughing, unable to stay mad at him for too long. Not when he’s trying so hard to take your mind off things.

“Seriously though, are you okay? What are you worried about? Talk to me.” Hoseok asks, his voice calm and steady as he stops joking around. There’s a brief moment of resistance, the thought that you don’t want to bother him with your silly thoughts or annoying emotions before you remember that you can trust him. No matter how ridiculous it sounds in your head, Hoseok will listen and he won’t make fun of you.

“I’m just...scared. Of all the people. Like, they’re going to be watching me or staring. What if I look fat or ugly? Or I fuck up saying the vows? Or I drop the ring or my dress splits or something? Or if I trip down the aisle?! Or if you decide you don’t want to marry me anymore?” As you begin to reel off the questions that have been plaguing your mind, you can feel your chest getting a little tighter and your breathing shallower.

With the practised ease of someone who’s dealt with your panic attacks over the years, Hoseok makes calming and reassuring noises over the phone until you’re silent. Just listening to him, you take in the comforting words as he lets you know that you’re okay and everything is fine. Finally, once he thinks you’re calm enough, he carries on.

“Meeps, that’s fine. Don’t be upset that you’re having those thoughts. I’ve had every one of those thoughts today as well. I mean...not the dress one. Substitute that for pants splitting or something, which is even more embarrassing because my underwear is not black today. But the point I’m trying to make here is that it’s normal to have those thoughts today. I’d probably be more worried if you weren’t having them.” He pauses to laugh before you hear shuffling noises.

There’s no doubt he’s probably not even getting into his tuxedo just yet and you curse the fact that men take far less time to get ready than women. He’ll probably only start like...an hour before the ceremony begins or something.

“But all I’ll say is, it doesn’t matter if anything goes wrong because we’ll fix it. You and me, just like always. You won’t look fat or ugly because you’re neither fat nor ugly anyway, instead, you’ll be the most beautiful woman here. Which you always are to me but don’t let my mom hear me tell you that. And I’m going to be standing at the end of the aisle, I promise you that. I’m the one who proposed to you and I will be there, waiting for you. That’s one thing I can assure you of completely.” Hoseok says this firmly, his voice perhaps more serious than you’ve ever heard it before.

You can practically feel his determination to make you understand that he’s going to be there. That he’s going to marry you today, no matter what happens. It makes your heart swell with love and emotion, causing you to press your hand against your mouth.

Hoseok takes your silence as a positive, choosing to let it carry on for a little longer before speaking once more.

“I love you, Meeps. And by the end of today, you’re going to be my wife. We’re going to have a great day with a beautiful ceremony and a fun reception before probably going to bed drunk. Or at least, I’m going to be drunk. Not entirely sure if I’ll be able to take you to Poundtown tonight-”

“Don’t ever say that again.” 

“But if not tonight then definitely tomorrow. Unless you don’t want me to drink, in which case probably tonight if you’re up for it.” Shaking your head, you can’t help but smile at his stupid comments. He always knew how to cheer you up, even if it was with the most ridiculous thing you’d heard today.

“You can drink, I’m not going to make you sober throughout the entire reception. I want you to have fun with everyone, so if you end up drunk then that’s fine. Just don’t go overboard.”

“Choosing to ignore my Poundtown comments, I see.” 

“Jung Hoseok, I am going to hang up now. I will see you later, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” Feeling a little shy, you murmur your next words into the phone.

“Love you too.”

-

The ceremony is officially about to start and you stare at the open door, knowing that outside all your guests are waiting. Not only that, but Hoseok is at the end of the aisle. You’d been reassured by everyone there who had peeked out to make sure, quelling your fears and worries.

All the groomsmen had come inside upon finding out you were here, lining themselves up alongside their specified bridesmaid partners and chatting away happily. They all looked incredibly handsome in their suits, the colours matching the bridesmaids perfectly and you felt a little pride at having thought of a good colour scheme.

Your mom is fussing around you, making sure that your dress looks perfect and that your bouquet hasn’t fallen apart or anything. Sighing, you gently push her hands away as she tries once more to move your necklace.

All of them had given you something as part of the tradition for the bride. Dahyun had lent you a beautiful Cartier bracelet, glowing with diamonds, as part of the ‘something borrowed’ while Chungha had bought you diamond earrings for the ‘something new’. Your mom had given you the bracelet she’d worn for her wedding, now occupying your other wrist and Hoseok’s mom had provided the necklace adorning your neck.

It was a beautiful silver necklace with a dainty leaf design, leading to the main piece in the centre which was dotted with tiny diamonds. Each leaf spreading out had either amethyst or an aquamarine gem in alternating order. She’d ordered it specially made for your wedding, matching your engagement ring with the gems and fulfilling the ‘something blue’.

You’d been amazed at everything they’d given you, understanding now why they’d all told you now to buy any jewellery for the day. They’d all decided to make sure you had everything you needed anyway.

But you knew that your mom’s need to keep straightening out your dress or brushing away unseen dust was just to keep herself preoccupied. She’d already cried once when you’d come out in your wedding dress, makeup and hair all done. That had earned her an exasperated sigh from the makeup artist.

“Mom, mom, come on,” You coo to her, smiling before taking her hands and squeezing. “You gotta go out there, go get your place.” 

She hesitates for a moment, unwilling to leave you before nodding. After a few words of reassurance from her to you, telling you that you’re going to do well and it’s all going to go fine, she turns and hugs your dad tightly before kissing him. You’d feel embarrassed at the sight of it, never quite being comfortable with your parents' displays of affection, but it just causes you to laugh softly.

Once she’s out the door, you hear the music begin from outside, the notes flowing through the door faintly. Everyone inside quietens and you can almost feel the excitement ramp up. It just makes you feel more nervous though, particularly when they start to head out in their pairs slowly.

“Are you ready?” Your dad asks, his eyes already going glassy with tears as his lip wobbles slightly. Giving him a concerned look, you immediately reach up to wipe the tears as they start to fall, feeling your heartbreak at the sight of your dad crying. He never cried.

“Dad! Don’t cry, oh my god. I’m sorry.” Cleaning up his face quickly, you’re stopped by the gentle way he grasps your wrists. For a moment, you think that he’s going to push you away but instead, he pulls you closer and carefully hugs you.

It’s a little awkward as you’re trying not to ruin the carefully done hair and makeup, but you can’t deny your dad a hug. Especially when you’d never really been much of a hugger growing up. You would be cruel to deny him one, especially on your wedding day. Your parents were feeling emotional that their little girl was getting married today.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s just your old dad getting sappy. You look so beautiful. Hoseok is so lucky, you better remind him of that every day.” He’s pulled back now, giving you the softest smile that is still a little watery. His hands move to your shoulders and he stands back to examine you fully, his eyes taking in everything.

Before you can respond to him, Yoongi is disappearing out of the door and heading towards the aisle. He’s alone, as you’d planned, but in one hand is the bouquet that Hoseok’s sister would’ve held had she still been alive. It had been his suggestion to hold it, symbolising the family member that Hoseok didn’t have anymore and you’d been more than willing to agree.

You wondered what Hoseok thought when he saw it as neither of you had told him that Yoongi would be holding it. Hopefully, he was happy with it, along with his parents.

Turning back to you, your dad squeezes your shoulders reassuringly before smiling at you. Ironically, all it does is make you more nervous as you realise that now you’re the one who’s going to have to walk down that aisle next. 

“Come on, it’s time to make your fiancé cry.” His words in a teasing tone, your dad turns to face the door before offering you his arm. Standing there, you stare at him before looking at the door with trepidation. Nerves roil in your stomach as you hear the faint sound of music playing, knowing that everyone out there is waiting for you.

Which in turn means everyone will be staring at you.

Those nerves quickly turn to anxiety and your breath comes faster, chest feeling a little constricted by the tight bodice of the dress. Without even realising it, your hands start to shake and the bouquet in them shudders visibly.

Quickly, your dad takes the bouquet from you to make sure that you don’t accidentally deflower them or crush the stems. The last thing you needed was to ruin your perfect bouquet only minutes before you were supposed to walk down the aisle.

It frees up your hands and you find yourself flapping them as you stress, trying to shake out the negative emotions as you pant. Your dad’s eyes widen, obviously panicking himself at your obvious distress. He’s never had to deal with you struggling like this before and he doesn’t know what to do but his paternal instincts kick in quickly.

“Hey, come on, sweetheart. Breathe, breathe. Take a big breath in, come on, that’s it. Not let it out slowly. And again, that’s right.” Talking to you in his comforting voice, tone level and low, you follow his instructions and start to feel a little calmer as you force yourself to calm your breathing. It’s hard, and you still feel the anxiety but it feels a little more manageable now.

Closing your eyes, you run through all the tips your therapist had given you for how to cope with anxiety attacks. What worked for you was to sing in your head, the lyrics, whatever song you were loving lately. It probably takes longer than you’d have liked but finally you feel like you can cope with your emotions enough to carry on.

When you open your eyes again, your dad is giving you an expectant, yet worried, look. Shaking your hands once more, you reach out and take the bouquet from him before taking a deep breath. Linking your arm through his, you straighten your shoulders and lift your chin before smiling at him.

“Okay, okay. Let’s go.”

-

Walking down the aisle is surprisingly less stressful than you’d imagined. The famous wedding song plays through the air as you walk slowly and the whole atmosphere feels almost like a fairytale. The soft lights twinkle even in the daylight while the gentle, warm breeze makes the ribbons on the chairs flutter delicately.

Along the floor, the white and purple rose petals that Namjoon’s daughter had spread in her role as flower girl were strewn haphazardly. A few of them caught the breeze and rolled delicately to a new place, making it seem like the floor was consistently changing. You liked it, smiling at the sight of how beautiful everything looked.

Everyone was staring at you, as you’d expected, but surprisingly it wasn’t as intimidating as you’d thought. You didn’t exactly enjoy it but it wasn’t terrible. Probably because you were more focused on initially admiring how perfect everything looked. How months and months of thought and money had finally accumulated into the perfect wedding.

But mostly, you weren’t as bothered by the staring because you were focused on the end of the aisle. There was no real altar here, given that it was being held at a hotel and everything, but the metal garden arch at the end had been decorated in delicate flowers, ribbons and lights to make an even better end.

And beneath it stood Hoseok.

If you’d ever thought Hoseok looked handsome before then it paled in comparison to him today. His black tuxedo made him look tall and slim, every part of him looking perfectly put together and elegant. The deep purple waistcoat beneath his jacket contrasted with the white of his shirt perfectly; the colour combination making his skin almost glow with health and happiness.

There was only the slightest hint of tattoos at the edge of his collar, leaving to the imagination the artwork he had permanently on his body beneath his clothes but you didn’t need to imagine. You’d seen them all, traced them delicately into your memory over the years until you could point out where they were without even seeing them.

Finally reaching him, you paused to look at your dad and gave him a bright smile of gratitude before giving him a second hug. This one was a little tighter than before and when you let go of him, you saw that he was crying once more. He didn’t give your hand to Hoseok, instead just gave him a stern look while trying to surreptitiously wipe away his tears.

“You look after her, Jung Hoseok. You make sure she’s the happiest woman.” There’s iron in his voice, telling Hoseok that it wasn’t a question but more a command. But there’s also love and affection in it, something Hoseok can tell as well by the way he nods his head.

Handing your bouquet to Chungha, you take Hoseok’s proffered hand. Up close, you can take in the details of his face better and you take a moment to simply admire him and imprint him into your memory.

The sides of his head had been shaven, the undercut short and seen with the style he’d chosen to wear today. His hair had been styled back, pushed away from his forehead. It was a look that had made you weak in the knees many times over the years and you’d practically begged him to have it for the wedding, knowing that he’d blow everyone’s mind with how handsome he looked.

Hoseok had a face that looked like it had been hand-carved by the gods from the finest marble anyway and this hairstyle showed off all the highlights of his face. The high cheekbones that made his smiles so animated, his cutting jawline, the clean slope of his nose, the heart-shaped smile that lit his entire face and the dimples that made him seem so human. 

His lip ring was still in, the silver shining in the sunlight. He’d been unsure whether to wear it but you’d told him to embrace himself and keep it. You’d fallen in love with him as he was, and you wanted him to show himself how you saw him. Which included his piercings and tattoos.

Your heart clenched though when you looked into his eyes finally. Hoseok’s eyes were one of your favourite things about him. The crescents they turned into when he smiled brightly, pushed into the shape by his cheeks and the way his eyes could practically dance with delight when he was happy.

Today though, those beautiful and expressive eyes were watery with tears. The wet streak on his cheek told you that he’d already had some of them fall and you frowned at the sight of them. Everyone had been right; Hoseok had cried upon seeing you down the aisle.

“Baby.” You whisper, unsure if you’re meant to talk to him. Deciding you don’t care, you reach up to wipe away the tears and smile when he kisses the palm of your hand before nuzzling into it, uncaring of everyone else.

“Meeps, you look perfect. I read your letter, I love you too.” Before you can stop him, he’s leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. There’s a murmur in the crowd, alongside some laughter and he looks over at everyone with a raised brow.

No one says anything though and he gets a satisfied look, ignoring your shy expression as you turn away from everyone.

“You’re not supposed to do that.” Keeping your voice low, you give a hesitant smile to the official who will be taking you both through your ceremony. Hoseok lets out a snort of laughter as he squeezes your hand tight, letting his thumb run along the back of your hand lovingly.

“I don’t care. It’s our wedding, I’ll do what I want.” And before you can stop him, he turns you and gives you another kiss, this one lingering a little longer. Eyes widening, you can’t help but giggle as you hear yet more laughter.

You should be annoyed at him, but you know he’s a force of nature. Plus, you don’t care. It feels nice to know he can’t help himself.

“Okay, let’s get married, Meeps.” He grins at you before facing the officiant once more. Staring at him a moment longer, you smile at him and nod.

“Let’s get married.”

-

Hobi Hobi,

We’re getting married today! Are you excited? I hope you’re reading this when I told you to, if not then you’re cheating >:[ it feels weird to write a letter. I don’t even know if I’ve ever done this before, so I’m sorry if it sounds really cheesy and lame. What do people write in these normally? I’m just going to write what comes to mind so if it ends up sappy then you’re not allowed to tease me later about it. 

Anyway, I want you to know that I’m sorry that I suck so much at telling you how I feel and my emotions. I wish I could be one of those people who’s telling you every moment how handsome you are and how much I love you but I can’t. I’m sorry :( I’m trying, I swear! Even if I don’t get to tell you as often as you deserve, I hope you know that I love you more than anything in the world.

Don’t ever forget that, okay? Even when we’re arguing over something silly or we go to bed mad at each other, don’t forget that. I know we’re pretty good at talking things out but there’s always that chance that we could have a big blowout. So I want you to remember that I love you. 

I’m still not entirely sure what I did to deserve you, but I don’t regret sending you that message. If anything, I think I should send the Flower team a big bunch of flowers or something for creating the algorithm that brought you up as a match. Imagine if it hadn’t and I’d just deleted the app, we’d have never met and I’d still be lonely and sad.

But we did meet, and I took a chance on you by sending you that embarrassing message. And then you took a chance by actually meeting up with me and going on that date. I still remember it, and I don’t know if I ever told you but I still have the ticket for the escape room. I know you still have yours in your wallet :) Thank you for giving me your time, even if I wasn’t your type. I hope I’m your type now.

I’m not sure that I will ever be able to tell you how important you are to me. Not only myself but my life. You’ve helped me to embrace myself and learn to love myself over the years through kindness. I know my limits in terms of my mental health now and you’ve helped to support me with the medication and the therapist. Neither of those were things I’d been comfortable with doing before your encouragement. But you also gave me a safe space to break down in; somewhere that I knew I could be at my most vulnerable mentally without having to risk being hurt even more.

You held me when I cried, you comforted me when I panicked and you calmed my anxiety over the years. I can never thank you enough for helping me to understand that these aren’t deficiencies and I’m not broken. I just need a little help to get through things sometimes. At the same time, I hope that I’ve become that safe space for you as well. I know that you’re not as emotional as I am, but I feel that you’ve opened up to me about things that hurt you. I’ll keep your secrets safe and I’ll always be here for you!

I hope you’re happy with your life now. With me, and our home and our furbabies. I hope you stay happy, and if you don’t then talk to me. Please. I don’t want us to ever realise that we’re making each other unhappy and I don’t want to ever be the reason for negativity. I want to spend the rest of my life with you in our little home, growing old together as we play board games and dote on our animals while you increase your tattoo collection even more. I know that people like to say that they can’t imagine their lives with their significant other, but I really do feel like that.

My life without you would be hollow and monochrome, as you bring colour to my world and fill it with joy and happiness. I’ve never laughed as much as I have these last few years with you and I know we’ll keep that in our relationship if we try hard. 

I don’t really know where this letter is going and I’m babbling now. But I guess the main thing is just that I can’t wait to marry you. It may not be very feminist of me but I can’t wait to take your name and be your wife. I can’t wait to call you my husband. I’m going to be terrified in the ceremony and so nervous but I’ll be happy too, I promise! I still can’t believe that you picked me, out of all the women you’ve seen, to be your girlfriend and then decided that you wanted to marry me.

Jung Hoseok, I solemnly swear to treasure you for the rest of your life and make sure you know how much I love you. I might not be able to tell you all that much, but I’ll show you. I’ll make you smile and laugh, I’ll buy you things that make me think of you, I’ll hug you tight and cuddle you until you’re complaining.

So in case it wasn’t obvious enough, I love you. I just want you to know because I know I suck at telling you, like I said. I’m also bad at writing letters but what’s new? I’ll finish this off quickly so you’re not spending too long reading this. Don’t want to make you late for our wedding after all.

I love you. I love you, Jung Hoseok. I love you, Hobi. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Lots and lots and lots of love, your soon to be wife <333333

[the-al-chemist]

Cupcakes for Two

A/N: a HPMA scenelet written for the lovely @hogwartsmysteryho, featuring her new child Samuel and his alter-ego Aiden. Hope you enjoy it, HMH. You’re as fantastic as Shaggy’s 1995 hit song Mr Boombastic. Warnings: none.

Samuel Murad turned heads as he walked back from the Quidditch pitch, battered, bruised and bleeding. His peers winced with empathic pain as they saw the state of him, but Samuel walked as if he hadn’t a care in the world, without so much as a limp.

Back in the dungeons, Samuel went into the Slytherin boys’ bathroom and cleaned his wounds - though, of course, they weren’t technically his - and assessed the damage. Nothing too bad this time. Aiden had gotten off luckily, and therefore, so had he.

He showered, and returned to his dormitory to change, but his plans became derailed when he saw what - or rather, who - was on his bed.

A girl his own age, dressed in a long white skirt a bright pink t-shirt with a unicorn on the chest, was lying on her back across the width of the bed. Her shoeless feet, clad in mismatching fluorescent socks, were pointed straight towards the ceiling, and her head hung from the edge of the bed, so that her wavy blonde hair fell to the floor and puddled there. One of her eyes was squeezed closed, while the other peered closely at a piece of quartz she was holding to her face.

“What are you doing in here?” Samuel asked her.

At the sound of his voice, the girl sat upright and turned to look at him, her eyes so wide he could see the whites all around her pupils, and her smile so broad her pink gums showed.

“Oh. Hello,” she said, sounding almost surprised to see him in his own bedroom. “It’s you!”

“Uh, yes,” Samuel frowned. “Who else would it be?”

“Your friend, of course.”

“I don’t have any friends.”

“Yes, you do.”

The girl nodded earnestly. Samuel shook his head. He didn’t have any friends. Most of the other students at school thought him strange, even stranger than the peculiar crystal girl who walked her pet rabbit on a lead like a dog and was now inexplicably sitting on his bed.

“It’s Saffron, isn’t it?” he asked her, and she nodded, her smile growing impossibly wider. “How did you get in my dormitory?”

“Oh, I just walked here,” she told him, and wriggled her brightly coloured toes to demonstrate.

“Who gave you the password?”

“What password?”

Saffron’s smile didn’t fade, but there was a look of amused bafflement in her wide brown eyes. Samuel blinked, and shook his head.

“Right. Can you just leave? I want to get changed.”

“Oh. Yes. I just came here to give you these, anyway.”

Still smiling, Saffron picked up a white cardboard box decorated with hand drawn daisies and handed it to him.

“They’re all vegan, and gluten free, because I didn’t know if you might be a coeliac. The ones that have chocolate sprinkles on to look like tealeaves are for you. The ones that have golden snitches on are for your friend.”

“I told you. I don’t have any friends.”

“Of course you do,” Saffron’s blonde eyebrows furrowed momentarily, before rising once more. “I mean your friend who lives in here with you.”

She raised a finger and pointed it first to Samuel’s forehead, and then to his chest. Samuel took a step backwards, away from her. How could she have known about Aiden?

“Hope both of you enjoy the cupcakes. Come on, Tofu. Time to go home.”

A white rabbit in a blue gingham harness and lead hopped out from under Samuel’s bed. Saffron picked up the lead, and she and the rabbit left the dormitory, leaving Samuel alone.

Alone except for Aiden, of course.

[crimsonrae]

Oh, I am excited then! May I please request a Captain Syverson or Clark Kent/Femme! Reader oneshot where it's the reader's birthday, but she doesn't tell Sy/Clark because she doesn't celebrate/forgets and they find out and do something for her? Maybe a surprise dinner or something? Thank you so much, darling!!

Hey Nonnie,

As requested a birthday fic with Mr. Kent. Fluff fic - I hope you like it.

Clark KentxReader

Falling, Flying

Happy Birthday!

You sighed wearily as you eyed the balloon decorated card from the florist. A beautifully arranged bouquet of sunflowers and chrysanthemums rested on your desk. Admittedly, the amber and wine tones were striking and brought a brightness to your office that was usually lacking, but it was also like having a bright neon sign to remind you of a day that you usually wanted to ignore.

This was the problem with having with life-long friends... they liked to torture you.

You chucked the card into your trash and moved the flowers to the window. You’d text Maria later to call her an asshole and thank her for the little gift.  

“Hey, nice flowers.”

Your butt had barely touched your desk chair. Biting back another sigh, you glanced up to see Lombard loitering in your doorway, “Thanks... Did you have that election article for me?”

“Y/N, it’s all work and no play with you.” Lombard complained loftily as he leaned against the threshold.

You shook your head, ignoring him as you logged into your computer. Your fingers clacked hard at the keyboard when he didn’t disappear nor answer your question. He stood like a creepy grotesque and it only took another minute of stunted silence before you broke.

“Lombard, what do you want?” He grinned victoriously while you threw a mocking scowl at him, “Article?”

He sauntered forward and dropped into the chair before your desk, “So, what are the flowers for? Did Smallville screw up? Apology flowers? Or an anniversary? Don’t let Lois see if it’s the second, cuzzz I don’t think it’s been quite a year since they’ve broken up.”

You rolled your eyes and grumbled under your breath about reporters. Never mind that you used to work as one, editing was more in your comfort zone anyway. You and Clark had only managed to date for two weeks before the office found out.  

Bloodhounds – every single one of them.  

Including your boy.

“You should work for a gossip rag, Steve. You’d really shine there.” You stated dryly, focusing back on the screen as a few new articles showed in your inbox. It was going to be a busy day of fact-checking and proofreading.

“Oh, don’t be mean. I’m just taking a healthy interest in my colleague’s life.” A smugly amused smirk crossed his lips before a pen came flying at his face, “Hey!”

Unapologetic, you pointed at the door “Get out of my office and get your article done.”  

He moved to protest or retort, you weren’t sure, as a new voice interrupted.

“Harassing my girl again, Lombard.”

A feeling of déjà vu fell over you as you and Lombard looked to your door to see Clark leaning in the threshold. You smiled faintly at him becoming amused as Lombard actually shifted to stand. As nice as Clark was, Lombard was well aware that his arms were the size of his head. He felt it better for his ego if he never stood to close to the other reporter...or pissed him off.

And yet...

“Nice choice of flowers, Smallville. So, what did you do?” The smaller man queried jovially.

You threw another pen at him as Clark zeroed in on your present and frowned. He tilted his head curiously and came over to have a better look, allowing Lombard a direct escape if he wanted, “Those aren’t from me.”

You could practically feel a whole new level of intrigue pour from Lombard at Clark’s words. You sent the nosy reported a pointed glare and lifted a pen threateningly. He finally took the hint and left as you spun your chair to face your boyfriend.

You couldn’t stop a cheeky smile as he arched a brow at you, “Yeah...I’ve been meaning to tell you – I've been seeing other guys. You’re gonna need to step up your game, farm boy.”

Clark snorted and slanted a mockingly stern gaze at you through his glasses. You still couldn’t decide if you liked him better with or without the frames, but the meandering thought flew from your head as he nudged your legs apart with his knee and leaned into you. You spared a quick glance towards your open door before meeting him halfway for a kiss.

A soft warmth enveloped you as he nipped your lip and gently coaxed your mouth to open. He stole your breath as he delved deeper and you tasted each other thoroughly. Somehow, you always forgot how good a kisser he was.... it was almost unfair. Especially when he pulled away with that knowing glint in his eye that made you want to smack him and climb him like a tree all at once.  

He smirked, “Somehow, I’m not worried.”

“You don’t play fair.” You grumbled though an affectionate smile pulled at the edges of your lips.

“Says the woman who’s receiving flowers from someone other than her boyfriend.” Clark drawled pointedly as he leaned against your desk.

Unwillingly, you glance at your flowery neon sign. You had no desire to share the real reason for the bouquet. Your birthday had never been a particularly good day for you and the only good ones that you had celebrated had been when you were alone.  

A cup of tea and a good book to read as you let the day pass you by and ignored the fact that you were another year older... that was your perfection.

You sighed and shrugged, “They’re from Maria, so no need to be jealous.”

His brow furrowed. He had only met Maria a few times and was still trying to wrap his head around the friendship you two shared. Insults, practical jokes, and a fair bit of clothes thievery made up the majority of your relationship.

“You guys aren’t in a prank war again, are you?” Clark asked leerily.

He had been the unintended victim of a couple of your pranks the last month and you couldn’t help, but smirk at the memory.  

You shook your head, a lie spilling from your lips before you could stop it, “No. I think I need to check my closet for those new Jimmy Choo's I bought. They’re probably gone now.”

Clark rolled his eyes, “I really don’t understand you two.”

“You don’t need to.” You replied calmly but made the mental note to check your closet anyway. You never knew with Maria.  

“Y/N! Stop canoodling your boyfriend! You’ve got papers on the printer.”

A low groan left your lips as a faint heat filled your cheeks at Lombard’s voice, but you moved to get up anyway. You had no desire to have him hover in your office again.  

Clark moved to follow before a colorful glint caught his eye. A quick check showed him that you were already out of the office as he reached down to pull the florist’s card from the trash. A deep frown marred his features as he took in the festive balloons and quickly scrawled birthday wish.

Why wouldn’t you tell him it was your birthday?

He quickly nabbed Maria’s number from your phone and disappeared from your office.

  ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

Your eyes had begun to sting as you stared at your computer screen. A small headache forming at the base of your neck, as you continued to work. You hadn’t been wrong when you assessed that today was going to be busy.

Five more articles had appeared on your desk before lunch and about a dozen phone calls placed and taken before and after that – notes were scribbled into margins and glaring errors corrected. So far, you had only been able to toss back a couple pieces and it was well after six already. Tiredly, you rubbed at the bridge of your nose, more than ready to go home and collapse into bed...but there was still so much you needed to do.

“Hey, you about ready to go?”  

You started at the sound of Clark’s voice, nearly sending your keyboard skittering to the floor, “Christ! I swear you need a damn bell.”

He chuckled lowly, watching as you clutched at your chest and glared mildly at him. He came to stand next to your desk, noting that you hadn’t even begun to shut down for the night while his shoulder bag was already tucked under his arm, ready to call it quits, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Grab your stuff, I’m taking you to dinner.”

A rueful smile quirked at your lips as you wave him off, “Raincheck, babe. I need to get this done or Perry’s gonna have a fit.”

He frowned glancing over the mess of papers on your desk. He hadn’t planned for you to still be working and almost wondered if you had taken on extra articles on purpose, “How much more do you have to do?”

“Don’t know. Maybe another hour – two tops.” You shrugged and smiled softly at him, “You’re free to roam the skies, Captain.

Clark raised an incredulous brow. Not because you had alluded to his alter-ego, you had known for a few months now and had slowly been coming to terms with the fact that your boyfriend was a superhero. It was a road that had not been easily traveled by any means. No, his disbelief came from now being certain that you had taken on extra articles.  

You didn’t often seek solitude, but when you did it was by diving into your work... he had learned that particular quirk relatively quickly and almost painfully. But not tonight – tonight you and he had plans and he wasn’t about to let you break them.

He reached over your shoulder and hit a couple buttons on your keyboard to send your computer into hibernation. You stared in shock at his gall, “Clark!”

He was already grabbing your coat, “Dinner, let’s go.”

Your gaze swiveled from the computer to him, your headache becoming full-blown as your expression creased into annoyance, “I told you, I have work. I’m sorry if that ruins your plans, but we’ll just -”

“You didn’t have lunch.” He cut you off and crossed his arms with a mild glare of his own, “You’ve been mainlining coffee like there’s about to be a tariff placed on it. I wouldn’t be surprised to find that all you ate today was a bagel from Guillermo’s. And I know for a fact that no one has a deadline that needs to be met today or tomorrow. Dinner. Now. Don’t think I won’t drag you out of here.”

You glare at each other in a silent standoff. It wasn’t until he stepped toward you that you gave in with a heavy scowl, “What are you? My mother?”  

“A concerned boyfriend.” He retorted as he held out your coat.

You accepted it grudgingly and grabbed your purse before stepping out of the office. Clark followed behind you, not wanting to give you a chance to close the door on him. You had done it before.  

He watched you from the corner of his cerulean eyes. Your annoyance didn’t last long, but a deep weariness seemed to fall over you as the two of you left the Planet. He slid a warm comforting hand across the small of your back to grip lightly at your hip. Relief flowing through him as you leaned into his side. You weren’t too annoyed with him, then.

You made it down an entire block before you realized you didn’t know where you were heading. Both of your apartments were in the other direction and any decent restaurant required calling for a cab to get to...

You blinked in confusion, “Clark...where?”

He smiled wondering when you would ask. Glancing around discreetly, he pulled you into an alley and firmly against his body. Your brow rose, a questioned poised on the tip of your tongue that turned into a startled scream as you suddenly found yourself in the air.

Your arms wrapped around his neck like a lock as you buried your face into his shoulder. Muffled curses and small whimpers spilled from your throat as the two of you flew. Even when he slowed, now safely away from prying eyes and telescopes, you refused to look up.  

“You can relax. I won’t drop you.” He murmured into your ear, feeling mildly guilty for scaring you. He could feel you trembling and knew it wasn’t from the cold air.

A muffled curse was his only response as you gripped tighter. You did not like this.

Luckily, you were soon on the ground again, though it took you a few minutes to remember how to unlock your frozen limbs. Your heart pounded in your chest as you swallowed against a noxious turn of your stomach. You couldn’t stop shaking...

Clark rubbed soothingly at your arms as you tried to find some semblance of control over your body. Your eyes slowly opened into a dark glare, your hand already moving to smack him in the chest. It was infuriating to know that it wouldn’t hurt him, “Don’t ever do that again, you jackass.”  

His eyes widen in a way that reminded you of a scolded puppy, but you refused to bend and stumbled back a step. You turned intending to see where exactly he had dropped you and figure out how to get home but froze at the sight you found.

Twinkle lights shimmered in the burgeoning night sky as they danced about the branches of an old willow tree. A small wooden table set for two was guarded by the fluttering leaves while being showcased by the light. It was startlingly quaint and romantic all in one.

Martha smiled as she placed a covered dish in the center of the table and waved at the two of you. You were on the farm...  

“Happy Birthday,” Clark murmured behind you.

Your mouth moved silently before you turned confused eyes on him, “...How?”

“I saw the card in your trash can. Called Maria... then I called mom.” Clark explained casually as if he were talking about the weather.

Stunned all you could do was blink, even as Martha came up to greet the two of you.  

She wrapped you in a quick hug, “Happy Birthday, dear.”

Then turned to place a kiss to her son’s cheek before shooing you towards the table, “Go, eat before it gets cold. I need to finish your cake.”

Cake. The word jolted you back to reality, “Oh Martha - you didn’t need to go through all this trouble.”

“Nonsense.” She called back, already halfway back to the house.  

Distracted, Clark slipped his hand into yours and gently tugged you towards the table. Smells of garlic and tomato and cheese wafted toward you and your mouth began to water. Sheer wonder filled you as Clark pulled your chair out for you and then moved to uncover the dish Martha had left. Steam rose into the air as he revealed a freshly baked lasagna. Salad and garlic bread next to it.

Your throat constricted as you took in the care that had gone into this... A home cook meal shouldn’t bring you to tears, but you felt the sting at the corners of your eyes.  

“Y/N?” Clark called quietly. Worried that he may have overstepped his bounds with this surprise.

Your heart felt too big for your chest as you met his gaze. It was with tremulous movements that you left your seat to place a grateful kiss to his lips, “Thank you...I didn’t...You didn’t need...”

You couldn’t find the words to express just how overwhelmed you were feeling as you fell back to your seat, but not letting go of his hand.

Clark watched you with a soft smile, “I think it's my right to spoil my girlfriend on her birthday, though it would help if I had known sooner.”  

A stray tear spilled down your cheek as you shook your head, knowing that you would have to explain your distaste for this day...but you also didn’t want to dwell on those thoughts, “I didn’t expect you to...Clark -”

He squeezed your hand as if he already knew, “Tell me later, I have more spoiling to do.”

You huffed a laugh and shyly smiled, “You know Clark Kent, you really know how to make a girl fall.”

He grinned widely, “And to think you hate flying.”

“You’re still not fully forgiven for that... but I think I’ll get over it.” You murmured, joy burning your veins as his expression turned relieved.

He pressed a kiss to your joined hands.

It was the first birthday you could say that you truly enjoyed. Over a plate of hot lasagna in the late summer night as crickets chirped and frogs sang and with a man... a man who looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. That was the only present you ever needed.

  ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

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[x-ia-n]

― the walls between us.

➞ including: denki kaminari, gn!reader

overview: in which denki falls for both sides of you.

word count: 2.9k

➼ xian’s birthday masterlist

➼ bnha masterlist

↳ main masterlist

↦ mentions of blood, no actual violence, secret identities, fluff, switching povs, i like the word luciole so yeah

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

In all honesty, Denki could’ve been more careful when sneaking out. He didn’t mean for his mother, of all people, to catch on.

“Who are they?” His mother asks carefully, facing Denki, who had a leg out the windowsill. The boy momentarily freezes. He’s racking his brain for an excuse━ anything would do at this point.

“Y/N,” He replies, perking his head up to look at the woman. “They’re a classmate of mine.”

She nods, “They're a good kid. You’re a great kid too, just be back by midnight, okay? Through the door.”

He stops, not entirely sure he heard that right. She was permitting him to go out, so late into the night. The blond grins, waving her goodbye, and hops out the window. He’s thankful that his mother trusts him enough to permit him to sneak out to see a friend.

Well, he is going to meet up with someone, and that definitely was not the name that he just told his mom. Denki slips into an alleyway and transforms into━ His burner phone rings.

“Chargebolt! Where are you?” The voice asks, the person breathing quite heavily.

"Hey," He answers in a flirty tone. "I got held up at my civilian home. I'll be there soon."

Clanging of metal rang through the receiver. "Five minutes, tops. If you're not here by then, I'm throwing you into the ocean."

He wore the mystic jewel and transformed into his alter ego, superhero Chargebolt, and raced to the site. Another day, another villain to face.

-

If there was anything Denki dreads a little more than losing his hero partner, it's the mornings after a fight. Every fiber in his body screamed in pain as he dragged himself off the bed and into the coldest shower he has taken yet. Balancing a double life is… troublesome, to say the least. His grades slipped quite a bit, but not enough for teachers and his parents to be concerned.

While getting dressed into his uniform, Denki winces at the forming bruises littering his torso. It didn't hurt as much as they did the first time around. He raced down the steps and grabbed a piece of toast from the table, opting to skip breakfast to get to class. His mother looked up from the newspaper in her hands and raised a brow in question; she didn't say anything as he left through the front door.

Getting through the first few classes of the day with no villain terrorising the city was a gift sent from above, Denki thinks as the lunch bell rang. He sits with his friends during lunch, managing to eat with them in peace. The blonde feels a set of eyes staring at him. He turns around and sees you behind him, a plate of strawberry shortcake in your hands.

"Oh!" You stuttered in surprise. "I accidentally grabbed an extra piece, so…" You trailed off.

You extended the plate to him, a faint blush decorating your cheeks. "Here you go!" You beamed at him.

"Thanks, Y/N. You're the best!" He grins at you as he places the plate on the table. If anyone notices how deep red your face went, no one said anything.

"So," Jirou starts, staring at him with a knowing smile. "What do you think of Y/N?"

"They're such a good friend!"

His words cause Hanta to smack his own forehead and the two girls to groan. Mina pushed even more, “Is that all? Don’t you think they’re… cute?”

Denki was smart. He gets great grades, can speak English fluently; and he knows his friends are just trying to get him to confess that he has a crush on you. He started complimenting the aforementioned classmate, occasionally glancing at your general direction. The three friends shared a look amongst themselves, listening to the blonde boy reassure them that all he thinks of you as a friend.

He already declared his love for Firefly. And they’re not together! So why does it feel wrong that he’s looking at you the same way he would to his hero partner?

-

Truth is, Denki noticed how his friends were reacting earlier that day. But he had to ask. More specifically, Chargebolt. There was a risk he’d get caught in the lie, but the satisfaction of knowing brought the cat back. He landed on your balcony, seeing you at your table, slaving over the homework given. The hero taps on the glass, laughing to himself as he sees you practically jump out of your seat.

“Chargebolt! Don’t you have patrols today?” You ask, letting him into your bedroom. He chuckles, “I’ll go in a bit, promise! Just wanted to see you today.”

Shooting him a look, you reply, “Oh don’t flirt with me, Sparky. You already know I like someone.”

The hero dramatically gasps, holding a hand to his chest. “Oh you dare replace me with some boy? You wound me, dear Y/N.”

“Besides,” He sat on your bed. “I only flirt with those I’m serious about.”

It was nice to talk to you as Chargebolt. You weren’t a stuttering mess around the hero like you were around him, the real him- civilian him.

Before he could further the conversation, the burner phone in his pocket rang. “Sorry, sweets. I have to go on patrol.” He flashed a grin at you. The hero missed you jumping out after him, donned in your superhero suit.

-

It was a miracle you got to your usual meeting place before him. Chargebolt was panting as soon as he got there, but still managed to beam wildly at you. “Hello, Luciole.” He greets you with a flirty smile, saying the nickname he’s given you since day one in a sing-song manner.

Firefly. Your jewel gives you bioluminescence and wings, but despite them being huge, they felt lighter than a feather. “Bolt, you’re late.” You scold.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sheepishly explains to you that he had to go to a friend’s house for a while. “You seem to spend an awful lot of time with Y/N, Bolt. Should I be jealous?” You joke, seeing how he almost lost his footing.

He exclaims lightheartedly, “You know I have eyes for you, Luciole. Besides, Y/N is just a friend.”

There was a certain… distaste in his tone as he says the last word.

You notice that the air around you got heavier as he rests his chin on the railings of the rooftop. “Are you okay?” You venture to ask. The great Firefly is now feeling more like their civilian counterpart, Y/N.

Honestly, you expect him to deny it; that’s why you are so surprised when the boy just shrugs and glances at you. “Not really,” He hums. “But I’ll get over it.”

You couldn’t question him as an explosion erupted from the other side of the city.

-

You are trying so. so hard not to scream right now.

Your shoulders tremble with anxiety as she places a bandage around your hero partner’s arm - his suit is pooled around his waist. Having him with his mask on but just a torn tank top covering his chest is an odd feeling. You carefully cut away the cloth, yanking it away from his body, feeling a pang of remorse every time he flinches at the movement. He squirmed a bit, trying to get comfortable while sitting on the table of your makeshift hospital.

The sight of the long, bleeding gash that runs along his chest made you feel both guilty and angry. “What were you thinking?” You hiss at him as you thread a needle. You could see Chargebolt watching you warily, unsure whether he’s more afraid of you or the needle.

“I was thinking that you were going to get hit!” He says. The memory of him jumping in front of you, arms spread out to protect you from the glass shards that bombarded you both burned into your brain. You see quite clearly how he’s not trying to flinch every time he moves.

If looks could kill, your glare certainly will. He hisses in pain as you pull out another shard from his collarbone. “You could’ve gotten hit in a really dangerous place, Bolt! I was going to take the hit. Why’d you jump?”

“Because the world shouldn’t lose an amazing person like yourself, Luciole.” You frown.

“No.”

“No?” He asks unsurely.

“That’s not a real answer, Bolt. Stop deflecting. You’ve risked your life so so many times to protect me. And each time, you got hurt!” You say.

“You’re my friend, Chargebolt. I don’t want you to get hurt. Do you think I like seeing you this way?” You cross your arms, glaring at him.

He smirks at you, “Shirtless?”

Groaning, you slightly press down on one of the open cuts with a bandaid, making him yelp. Biting back a smile that threatened to make its way to your face, you tell him to shut up. As you continue to patch him up, you hear him mumble something that’s either I don’t want you to get hurt, too or it’s not like anyone would care; and you aren’t sure which made your heart sink more.

“Chargebolt?” You hesitantly ask, looking up at him. For the first time since you’ve started working with each other, you see him frown and avert his eyes.

“I don’t have a lot of people in my life,” The blond starts slowly. “And I treasure those I do have. If I can protect you from harm, you know I’m going to. And when something doesn’t go well, there aren’t a lot of people who will miss me.”

Vigilante Firefly wants to scream and cry and even slap their partner across the cheek for thinking those things.

You do none of those.

Instead, you carefully collect a handful of bandages and softly wrap them around his arm's wounds. Then you gently grasp his hands and draw him into an embrace, wrapping your arms around his back and ignoring the gash on his chest. When he wraps his hard fingers around your arms in a small sign of gratitude, you can feel his breath catch, and you don't believe it's from pain this time.

You neither see the boy blushing red, nor feel how fast his heart is pounding against his chest.

-

You’re both lounging on a random roof, staring at the scenery of Musutafu instead of patrolling. You fidget, sneaking glances at your partner. He has shed his sleeves in the heat, suit pooled around his waist and tank top covering the largest scars.

"Hello?" Chargebolt asks again, frowning.

Firefly squeaks out, "Why do you want to know?"

Chargebolt shrugs, searching your face with his golden eyes. "Just curious." He says. "I feel like I don't know you as well I should for someone that I'm this close to."

You tell him about your hobbies, surprising even yourself. His face lights up, “That’s so cool!”

He smiled. “I actually have a friend who likes the same things as you. I’m sure you’d both get along.”

The pink dusting his cheeks weren’t missed. “Really?” You ask, biting back the urge to tease you have friends?

"Yeah," Chargebolt says with a smile. "They’re fine, too," he says easily, before turning back to you. "I'm sure I'm not as lucky as you!"

Firefly chuckles. "I'm sure they’re amazing, and it's good to know you have someone looking out for you."

Chargebolt's simple grin gives way to a forced, practiced sigh as he says, "You have no idea."

You don’t push further.

-

The next time Denki sees you in school, you declare out of the blue, “Let’s play a game.”

“Like a ‘get-to-know-you’ game?”

You shyly smile at him, “Yeah. I realize that out of everyone… I don’t know you that well.” Lies, you think to yourself.

"Oh, okay!" He grins triumphantly. "Favorite subject to learn?"

You frown, not really the biggest fan of school overall. "Japanese." You decide after thinking about it for a moment.

Denki’'s smiling at you like you’re the sun. "That's great!" He says enthusiastically. "I'm actually the opposite, though. I love physics - the way that everything comes together to make sense, how everything has a purpose and a place. It's really calming, actually."

"I didn't figure you to be someone who liked school." You laugh.

"Appearances are deceiving!" Denki grins.

"Sure," you chuckle, lightly punching him in the arm. "Okay, my turn...Favorite language, other than Japanese?"

"English!" Denki responds immediately. "I'm learning it now and it's one of my favorite things."

"Really?" You wonder aloud. "I actually have a cru- friend who's taking English now."

He pretends not to notice the little slip-up. “Small world.” He laughs, trying not to show how disheartened he was. You smile. It was nice to finally get to open up and learn about his friend, even if you still didn't know about the feelings he harbored for you.

Of course, despite wanting to open up, the boy still has his guard up. It was hard, having to still be cautious, just because he’s a vigilante. Denki doesn't even know what school Firefly goes to.

Time and time again, he has to remind himself that he promised his own heart to Firefly, but he can’t help but like you.

Fuck.

-

Around midnight, Chargebolt hears you approach him, nimble steps resounding against the metal roof. “Luciole.” He greets, not turning around to face you.

“Is everything okay?” You gently pressed as you began to freak out a bit.

He paused. "“This is... This is going to seem like I'm digging up stuff from the far past, but I assure you that I'm not. It's important, so I'd appreciate it if you could just let me finish before interrupting.”

He took your silence as a yes, and he started. “When I told you I loved you, and you told me there was someone else, I told you I’d wait.”

He could hear you shift behind him.

“You see, I know we’re not together, but I just feel bad, you know? I feel bad that I am… starting to like someone new. Y/N only ever thought of me as a friend.”

He groaned, now facing the stunned Firefly. “How could I… I’m an idiot,” The words he had practiced are not coming together at all. “Why do I feel bad for liking two people at the same time?”

You walked towards him, taking a deep breath. “Now that we’re on the topic, the guy… Let’s say I’m in the same situation as you. Y/N thinking of you as a friend is like how…”

He doesn’t say a word.

“Like how Denki Kaminari sees me.”

He sputters out, “Well, then he’s an idiot.” You punch him lightly in the arm, avoiding where he was cut. “He’s not,” You insist. “He’s really nice, and sweet, and smart.”

You stop yourself before saying anything more. “So eventually, I got used to him seeing me as ‘just a friend’. That’s when I realized that I was the idiot who didn’t see the wonderful partner I already had.”

You squeezed his hands tighter. “I fell for you just as you fell for Y/N.”

Denki’s heart was pounding against his ears. Had he waited a bit longer, you both could’ve like each other at the right time, with the right identities. “Bolt, I want to tell you who I am.”

What?

“Wait- Lu- Firefly, why?”

You locked eyes with him, “I have to, okay? Detransformation.”

There was a quick flash and you closed your eyes, not wanting to see his reaction. You kept them shut as you hear the hero gasp. You felt him remove his hands from yours, only to place them on your face.

“Y/N…” You hear him call out. And when you open your eyes, you could see him gazing at you with so much emotion.

“Hi, Sweets.” He whispers. You felt like you couldn’t breathe at this point.

“Hey, Sparky. I really hope this doesn’t change things.” You timidly reply.

Chargebolt was in disbelief. All this time? “I need to ask you one last thing.”

“Sure.” You readily agreed.

He felt his mouth dry up in nervousness. Trying his hardest to be nonchalant, he inquires, “Did Denki Kaminari do something that made you not like him anymore?”

You certainly didn’t expect that question. “I never really… stopped liking Denki.” Your voice grew quiet.

“But I swear this won’t be a problem!” You immediately followed up. “I promise I’ll be faithful; and besides, he only sees me as a friend, so it’s not like there’s a threat or anything-”

“Detransformation.” He interrupts your rambling.

Your jaw drops.

“Oh.”

Denki stood there in front of you, hands still pressed against your face. “It’s been a while since Denki only thought of you as a friend, Sweets.”

“Is there anything else you need to sort out, or do you think we’re ready to start dating now?” He smirks at you, wanting to make sure you’re both on the same page.

You answer him with a kiss on the cheek, and he swears his face was splitting into two because of the wide grin he has.

-

“Denki, is that you?” His mother pipes up from the kitchen as he returned home.

“Yeah!” He answered back, still as giddy as he was earlier. “What got you so happy?”

“Remember Y/N?” He asks, unable to get the dopey grin off his face. “They said yes.”

x-ia-n © 2021 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost. general taglist: @mooniepotchi​​​ @hqnishi​​ | please fill out this form to be added to the taglist!

[reidgraygubler]

and they said speak now... (spencer reid/reader)

Title: and they said speak now... Request: no Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: fluff w/ some angst Content Warning: swearing (if any), leaving someone at the alter, Word Count: 3,803 Summary: Spencer Reid is getting married and Reader is in love with him. Reader shows up at his wedding, uninvited, to try and win him back before it’s too late. A/N: this is based on speak now by taylor swift. thanks for the love and support! check out my masterlist  

{***}{***}{***}

My body refused to work when my eyes opened. I just laid still in bed, watching as the ceiling fan spun. There was no work today, so there really should be no reason for me to be awake right now. Why was there no work? Because my best friend, Doctor Spencer Reid, was getting married. And I was uninvited by his not so lovely bride-to-be. 

Everyone would be wondering where I was and why I wasn’t there. I suppose it’s not exactly my place to say why I wasn’t invited or why I wasn’t there. I should be there. She didn’t invite me because she doesn’t like me. She thinks I’m a threat. It’s probably a good thing I’m not there. Mostly because I’m in love with Spencer Reid and I’m too late. She was right not to let me be there. I’m no more a threat than JJ is. JJ loves Spencer, but I suppose it’s different for her. She’s already married, and I’m single. 

I remember the day Spencer told me he was engaged and getting married. My heart broke into a million pieces, but he didn’t know that. Spencer couldn’t know my true feelings for him. It’d ruin everything we had together, and I didn’t want to lose my friendship with Spencer. But, I suppose I am losing my friendship with him because of his wife-to-be.

My stomach churned as I rolled to look at the clock. The ceremony would be starting in two hours. And in two hours, Spencer Reid would be a husband to someone who isn’t me. 

“Screw this,” I muttered as I pushed myself out of bed. I made way towards the closet and pulled out a dark blue, knee-length tea dress. I made sure to be quick with a shower and getting ready to leave. If I took my time and doddled, I would be late and I'd lost my chance to show up. 

I grabbed the last few things I needed before leaving my apartment. The church that the ceremony was being held at was across town. From what I’m told, by JJ, the bride wanted the wedding to be in Baltimore. But, Spencer wouldn’t have that. He wanted the wedding to be right here in DC. I was happy about that. 

I parked my car down the street from the church. It was a cute building. A place where I’m sure a lot of brides would love to have their wedding. I rolled my eyes at the sickening thought of his wife-to-be, begging him for their wedding to be at a place like this.  

When I stepped into the church, I smiled when I saw our friends and co-workers waiting in the foyer. They looked happy to see me too. JJ, of all the people, seemed the happiest. She peeled away from the group to embrace me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her baby blue eyes staring into my soul. She knew exactly why I wasn’t invited. She even knew how I felt about Spencer and the bride. JJ shouldn’t be surprised that I’m here. I’ve spent many nights with her, or with Emily, or with Penelope. Many of those nights were spent with my drunk and blubbering about this whole thing. The day after I found I wasn’t invited to my best friend’s wedding, I told JJ that I was going to show up anyways and break them up… She said I shouldn’t. Well, look at where I am now.

I stared back at her, staying silent. The bride’s family was scattered around the room. They were all wearing different shades of pastels and snotty expressions on their faces. In fact, everyone here was wearing pastels… Except for me. I stood out in my dark dress. 

“He can’t marry her,” I kept my voice low as I scanned the room. My eyes landed on Diana. She was standing by the doors to the sanctuary. The expression on her face told me that she did not want to be here, that she was confused, and that she did not like what was going on with Spencer. My heart broke for her. “You know that. He’s too good for her,” I whispered as I looked back at JJ. JJ looked back at me and nodded. 

“Are you-”

“Yes,” I cut her off before she could say another word. She nodded and looked around the room. Shouting could be heard from a back room. I could only assume the bride was shouting at one of her bridesmaids. I wrinkled my nose and looked at JJ. “Don’t stop me if I tackle that woman to the ground when I see her,” I whispered. 

“I will, most definitely, stop you. We don’t need you in jail.” She whispered before pulling me into a hug. I nodded and pressed my face into her shoulder. I was happy that our other friends didn’t come over and talk to me. 

“Save me a seat,” I winked at her. She smiled and chuckled lightly, but nodded.

“Good luck,” she smiled before allowing me to sneak away.

I walked past the group of our friends. They noticed me and my expression, taking it as a sign to not talk to me. I was on a mission and couldn’t be stopped. That was until I heard my name being called from a familiar person. 

“I’m so happy you’re here,” Diana spoke as she wrapped her arms around my body. I froze stiff. What am I supposed to do right now?! I can’t just tell Diana off and leave her. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come or not,”

“Yeah, I almost wasn’t going to come,” I spoke as I stepped back a step. Diana looked at me with a relaxed expression on her face. “Listen, Diana, I’d love to chat, but I have to get to my seat,” I lied with a smile. I felt bad for lying to Spencer’s mother. But, I didn’t want to be caught by anyone from the bride’s family. I’d be kicked out in an instant. I couldn’t leave, I still have to speak my mind.

“Spencer can’t marry this girl,” she whispered as she hugged me again. I felt tears well up in my eyes as she spoke. “I love him, but this girl is not for him,” she continued. I nodded and backed away from her.

“I know,” I whispered before walking away from her. Again, I felt bad for lying to her and just walking away. I knew if I stayed with her, she’d cling to me. And, I couldn’t just be by her side. Spencer still had to walk her to her seat before the official start of the ceremony. He can’t know that I am here.

The sanctuary was… beautiful… Sure, that’s a word that could be used. Flowers decorated each of the pews with ribbon and bows. A pastel pink carpet lined the center aisle, with pink rose petals on top of it. The windows were covered with curtains that were drawn back, except for the back two. I looked around for a place to hide before giving up and just tucking myself behind the curtain. 

This is not how I thought my day would be. And, I’m sure Spencer is expecting a totally different outcome for his wedding day. This is not what he thought it would be.

 I pressed my back to the wall behind me and closed my eyes. A memory came to my mind and caused tears to roll down my cheeks. The day I realized I was in love with him. It seemed like everyone but Spencer and I knew that. But, that was probably for the best. I knew from that day on I would forever be screwed. I was right though. I’ve never been more screwed in my entire life until now.

I thought about what I was going to say when it came time to disagree with this holy matrimony, though I would disagree and say unholy matrimony. Like, would I say “Spencer, I love you. Please don’t marry her.” Or, alternatively, would I say “She’s the wrong person to marry. You should be marrying me.” Or, “Don’t say yes to her. Runaway with me. Don’t spend the rest of your life regretting this.” 

The sound of the organ started to play the wedding march, it sounded like the death march to me, pulled me out of my thoughts, and to the realization of current events. I poked my head out from the curtain. The sanctuary was filled, except for the back pew. I quickly stepped to sit there. JJ and everyone was sitting more towards the center of the room. I had to be quick as I moved towards them. I closed my eyes as I sat beside her. She looked over at me before grasping my hand.

I looked towards the front of the room and saw the bridal party and Spencer. My heart raced as I looked at him. 

He wore a baby blue suit with a baby pink bowtie. He hated it. I could tell by the expression on his face that he hated it. Hell, I hated it too. It made him look flushed. Or, maybe that was the fact that he was about to marry a self-center bitch.

He isn’t the type to marry someone like this girl. He should be marrying me. Would that also make me a self-centered bitch too then? 

Suddenly everyone around me stood up, causing me to shyly stand to my feet. The bride and her father entered the room and started down the center aisle. I kept my eyes on Spencer. He looked at her like he loved her, but something was off. I wish it was me walking down in an elegant wedding dress instead of this woman. And something told me he wished it was me too. That has to mean something, right? I’m not just projecting my feelings on to him, am I?

She walked past me, her gown shaped like an oversized cream puff. The way she walked was similar to a pageant queen who won the pageant. I'm sure that's how she thought too. She probably thought that since I wasn't invited, I shouldn't be here. Therefore, I couldn't ruin her perfect day. Boy, was she wrong. I’m about to ruin everyone’s day. Or, make it better. That entirely depends on what happens. I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts of her winning and turned my eyes back to Spencer. 

Everyone sat back down and the ceremony started. The priest went right at the start of it all and I stopped listening till I needed too. I didn’t want to hear about how the priest was so blessed to be marrying Spencer and his bride, and how he was so fond of their shared love. I wanted so desperately to scoff and roll my eyes. But I knew it was an entirely inappropriate time to do that.

“For those who disagree upon this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest spoke. I shot my head back up to look at them. 

The silence in the air was tense and I knew this was my last chance. I'm not missing this moment. JJ squeezed my hand as I nervously stood up. My stomach dropped to the ground and I suddenly felt like I was going to throw up. My hands were shaking and sweaty. All eyes were on me. The horrified expressions on everyone’s faces, except for my friends, made me feel even sicker. But I just kept my eyes on Spencer, who kept his eyes on me. The bride kept looking between Spencer and I. She wanted to stop me from saying something, but she couldn’t. I disagreed with this marriage. I get my chance to speak.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” I whispered as I slowly sat back down. I noticed how Spencer was staring at me like he was surprised that I’d be here. My face twisted up as I stood back up. “You know what, no…  I’m not sorry… I’m not at all sorry.” I bit my lips together and nodded. “Now,” I stepped out of the pew row and stood in the center aisle, “I’m… I’m not the type of girl who just shows up, rudely barging in, uninvited to a white veil, white dress event… But, Spencer, you’re not the kind of boy to marry the wrong girl,” I stopped talking and swallowed roughly. Everyone was still staring at me, but I was still staring at Spencer. The tension in the air was tight, and I felt like I needed to throw up. “I love you, Spencer,” I wiped my eyes as tears started to roll down my cheeks. “So, don’t say yes… Don’t marry her. Please… Runaway with me, Spencer… I’ll meet you outside… Just, please don’t wait, don’t say a single vow… Runaway with me, please. I… I love you,” I spoke out loud, just for Spencer. I wasn’t exactly pleased that I had to pour my heart and soul out to Spencer in front of my best friends and her family. 

The priest looked shocked as he turned to Spencer. Spencer was still staring at me, confusion and shock on his face. The bride was definitely in shock and anger that I’m ruining her wedding day. I won. I don't care if Spencer says anything after… I ruined her wedding day… therefore I won. Though that was a lie, I did care if Spencer said anything. Because, even if he didn’t feel the same, my day would be further ruined. So, in the end, she would win.

“Do you… Do you have anything to say,” the priest finally spoke after what felt like hours of silence. 

I placed my hand over my stomach,  trying to hold back the feeling of being sick. Spencer just stared at me, his mouth opening and closing. I wiped my eyes and nodded, understanding I messed up and should just leave. Just as I turned to leave he spoke. “Let’s… Let’s run away… Right now,” Spencer spoke out, catching my attention and turning me back to look at him. I widened my eyes and opened my mouth, but no words fell out. Spencer pulled his hands from the bride’s and kept his eyes on me. 

“Spencer,” the bride started to whine. That was the first time Spencer looked away from me, only to glare at the bride. I held back the inappropriate laughter. 

“I love you too,” he spoke as he turned to face me, “I’ll meet you outside, let me… I’ll meet you outside in a minute,” he spoke as he stepped off the platform and towards me. He walked closer to me, keeping his eyes on me. “You’re right, I’m not the type of boy to be marrying the wrong girl,” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear. Spencer stood right in front of me and held my hands. I nodded and smiled. 

“You better be outside,” I muttered before pecking his cheek and running out of the church and towards the side. I needed to hide from the onslaught of the bride’s family that was bound to come my way. I hid in the bushes, away from everyone. I could hear the shouting and yelling coming from the inside of the church as the doors swung open. I looked over the bushes and saw Spencer sprinting down the stairs. He was no longer wearing his light blue suit jacket and a light pink bowtie. He was just wearing his white button-up, suspenders, and light blue slacks. I smiled as I stepped out of the bushes. 

I ran into his arms and he embraced me before kissing my lips. I melted under his touch. The way he held me close to his body made me feel warm and safe. He held my cheeks in his hands and kept my head still so I couldn’t move away from him. But even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t. I was content staying here. We stayed still, kissing each other right in front of the church he was going to get married at, where he left his wife-to-be at the altar. 

I kept my eyes closed because I was scared that if I opened them this dream would be gone and Spencer would be married, and not to me. I’d wake up and still be in bed where I was before I came over here. But, when we finally separated from each other and I opened my eyes, I was looking at Spencer. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, happy that he was standing in front of me. 

“I didn’t say my vows… I didn’t say anything to her…” he whispered once we were in each other’s arms. I smiled and nodded. “I’m so happy you were there when the priest said speak now,” he smiled, keeping his hands on my face. 

“My car… It’s just down the street… We can go, go to my place, your place, anywhere. Anywhere but here,” I whispered and nodded. Spencer looked over his shoulder towards the church where more shouting came from. I followed his gaze just as the doors were pushed open. I was worried that it’d be the bride, coming to shout at Spencer, but more importantly me. I relaxed when I saw JJ and Emily’s faces.

“You guys should go if you’re going to leave! Derek can only hold her back for so long,” JJ looked down at us. She seemed pleased that Spencer was here with me. No one liked her. But no one wanted to tell Spencer that. He loved her. But, I guess he loved me more.

“Honestly, Aaron and David can only do so much to hold back the bride’s family. Her father wants to rip you a new one, Spence,” Emily laughed. I looked back at Spencer and smiled. 

Just as we were about to tease back, the door was pushed open again and the bride stepped out. She was staring at Spencer and I with anger in her eyes. I looked at her with terror on my face.

Spencer picked me up in one easy movement and threw me over his shoulder. I held back the laughter that I so desperately wanted to let out. But, instead, I looked at the bride with a smile. She looked back at me, the anger exploding on her face. JJ and Emily held her back so she could chance after Spencer and I. I won. I flashed her my best smile as Spencer walked further and further from the church.

The bride just stood behind JJ and Emily, staring at us. Her face was twisted up. They kept their arms up to keep her from chasing after us. I smiled as I watched them try to deescalate the situation but ultimately held her back. There was no saving the day from this situation. 

Spencer walked down the street towards my car. He kept me over his shoulder. I finally laughed once we were at my car. He set me down so I was sitting on the hood of my car. “Where do you want to go?” he asked, resting his hands on the hood of my car on either side of my hips. I smiled as he leaned closer to me.

“My place,” I whispered before pressing a kiss to his lips. He hummed and nodded. “My place, she doesn’t know where I live. She can’t storm in and scream at us. She’ll do that at your place,” I whispered.

“Your place it is,” he smiled at me before kissing my lips again. He helped me off the hood and then into the car. 

“Does this mean we have to get married now?” I looked at him. Spencer laughed as he started the car. “Can we get married now?” I asked, keeping my voice low. Spencer glanced at me and smiled. “Too soon?” I cracked a smile at him. 

“No, not too soon.” Spencer smiled as he started my car and drove away. “I suppose that means we can get married now,” he reached out for my hand. I let him hold it as I stared at him. 

“Wow, not even going to ask me out on a date before you propose to me?” I smiled before pressing my lips to his cheek. He glanced at me for a moment. Pure bliss and happiness was on his face as we drove away from the church. 

“Well, actually, I think you’re the one that proposed to me,” he grinned. I rolled my eyes and nodded. 

“I guess you’re right,” I threw my head back in laughter. Spencer glanced at me again and smiled. “Although, I never technically asked the question… That being, will you marry me?” I turned to face him. He stayed silent, laughing through his nose as he shook his head. I stared at him and cocked an eyebrow. “So, will you?” I asked out loud when I realized he thought I was just joking.

“Oh, you were being serious,” he looked over at me when he stopped at a stoplight. I stared at him and slowly nodded.

“I was being serious, Spencer. I mean, I didn’t just spill my heart and soul out in front of that amount of people I don’t know, nor like, and you’re now ex-fiance for no reason. I’m being more than serious,” I whispered and nodded. He looked down at our hands and raised an eyebrow. “Marry me, Spencer Reid,”  

Never in a million years did I ever expect to be proposing to my best friend on his wedding day. I don’t think he was expecting it either. Honestly, no one should have seen this coming. But, here I am, sitting in my car with Spencer beside me, asking him to marry me, after he left his wife-to-be at the altar. 

“That’s going to be one hell of a love story to tell people, you know,” Spencer smiled at me. I looked at him as a smile grew on my lips. I shook my head but kept the smile on my lips. 

“Is that… Is that a yes?” I whispered and kept my eyes on Spencer. He glanced at me and smiled. 

“You don’t just stop the wedding of your best friend and not expect me to say yes,” he laughed. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Of course I’ll marry you,” 

“You’re not wrong though, it will be one hell of a love story to tell people,” I half-cackled.

I’m so happy I was there when they said speak now.

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[head-always-up-in-a-dreamworld]

An Unpredictable Reunion (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

A/N: Hello there! This is my first try at fanfiction here, hope you’ll like it! The only warning is probably some grammar mistakes (sorry in advance). Any helpful criticism is highly accepted :)

[gif not mine, any credits to its owner]

.

.

An Unpredictable Reunion

Bucky watched the space where literally just a couple of seconds before stood his best friend. He slightly smirked thinking what Steve was going to do. They never spoke it aloud but Bucky knew after his first trip back in time Steve felt as something missed in his life. Seeing Peggy from a distance made something rise in himself. Bucky knew Steve wasn’t coming back. He was going to stay back in the 40s, back in their time. Steve wasn’t going to let this opportunity go. He had tried his best to keep up with all the new technologies and the new society he was thrown in, but his heart had always remained in Brooklyn 1940s with Peggy. And Bucky understood him perfectly, he would have done the same given the opportunity. The question was indirectly made by Steve and Bucky would have loved nothing more than going back to their old timeline before Thanos, before the battles, before Hydra. He often wished he was living in his shitty and poor apartment before the war, before the numerous brainwashing and the tortures. He dreamed he could go back to hold his fiancée Y/N, dance with her and love her just as he had promised her. He was jealous of Steve for this reason. Steve could go back and spend the rest of his life with the woman he loved. As much as he ached to do the same, Bucky just couldn’t go back and live in the same years he had already lived in the vest of the Winter Soldier. Most importantly, he didn’t want his beautiful girl to live with a murderer like himself. He felt unworthy of her love, he loved her more than life itself so he thought it was the right thing to do. He decided to not be selfish and let her live her life sparing her the burden he would be to her, even if this meant he was not going to have the love of his life with him. He was going to be alone for the rest of his existence and to him it was well deserved, the important thing was for Y/N to be happy.

A couple more seconds had passed and now Sam and Bruce were beginning to fear Steve was somewhere lost in another age. Bucky let the smallest smirk cross his face and turned his back to the platform. He could hear the worry in the other men’s voices. However, as he was making his way towards Bruce he heard Sam curious and confused voice exclaim: “Who the hell is that? Did we turn him into a woman?”.

Bucky inarched an eyebrow. ‘Woman?’

He turned back again and immediately his confused eyes landed on a figure he was sure he wasn’t going to see anywhere but in his dreams. On the platform, where ten seconds before Steve departed, now stood a woman dressed in a knee-length blue dress with white decorations. Bucky recognised that dress.

‘She wanted this colour because it reminded her of my eyes’

The woman was beautiful, even more than Bucky remembered. Her lovely face was painted with worry and confusion.

“Y/N…” The soldier breathed and the woman took a closer look at him while Sam and Bruce watched the scene dumbfounded. The woman took a small step and nervously played with her fingers. She looked directly at his eyes and realization hit her. It was really him. Her eyes watered as his ached.

“Bucky… Oh, Bucky!” She started to walk to him and stopped as she was just a step away. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected this at all.

All he had to say was “Doll…” and she ran into Bucky, her head pressed against his chest. His arms instantly wrapped around her frame as he felt hers clench him tight. He couldn’t believe she was there. He closed his eyes and ducked his face into her neck. He was inebriated by her smell, she still had on her the same perfume she wore when they said their goodbyes at the train station; somehow, he could still remember it.

After what seemed hours, they slightly parted. On their right, Sam was talking with someone sitting on a bench. Bucky only had eyes for her, though. He was incredulously memorizing her beautiful face, as if she was to disappear in front of him any moment. Y/N had the same look of amazement. She was studying her lover, so unbelievably built and much like she remembered him, yet so different in many aspects. His eyes were the same deep and intense blue, but his expression was harder than the one her lover usually wore. And his hair… it was so long! And he was wearing a beard! She had never seen him with a beard. Timidly, her hands found their way to his cheeks and she saw him close momentarily his eyes at the touch. She smiled and a tear ran down her cheek. Bucky was quick to catch it.

“Your hair’s almost as long as mine now” She said and made him chuckle.

“You’re here”

“You’re alive” She replied back, her eyes tearing up again. He sighed contently and gently caressed her face bringing her towards him. He kept gazing at her eyes as to ask permission to keep going. She understood him and moved her head for a small nod.

Their lips finally touched. The kiss started gentle but they still put all their passion into it. It was a kiss awaited for nearly 80 years to him; to her, it was a kiss from someone she thought lost forever.

He pulled back when he felt her salty tears.

“Don’t cry, my love” He tried to dry her tears with his thumbs.

“I thought- I thought you were dead. I was sure I was never gonna see you again.” She whispered.

He nodded. “I thought I'd never see you again, too.” He kissed her forehead. “I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

“Steve...” She said and he smirked while nodding. He should have expected this from Steve, he could never live without giving a helping hand even if it meant altering an entire timeline.

“He appeared suddenly and… He said you were alive and he was willing to bring me to you. I thought he had gone insane, but then… I wanted to see you, to be with you again so I listened to him and tried this- this future thing”

“Crazy girl, you could have hurt yourself or worse you could have died” Bucky scolded her jokingly and saw her pacific but determined glaze.

“Had I died, I’d still be with you.” His heart ached at her words. She had been told he was dead and she convinced herself of it for who knows how long and still at the first opportunity to be with him she threw herself fully on it, not concerned of any danger. He didn’t deserve her and as he thought this he remembered the dark part of his past. The part she didn’t know. The part that could potentially ruin this long dreamed reunion. She still had to know the truth, though; she couldn’t just spend her life with an assassin and not being aware of it. He had to tell her now, if he waited he would be tempted to keep this secret forever in order to have her by his side and this wasn’t fair to her. Her happiness was way more worthy than his heartache.

He took a step back, his arms no longer around her waist were now resting along his sides. She took notice of his strange sudden change of behavior and his pained expression.

“Buck, what’s wrong?” She tempted.

“There’s something you need to know” He inhaled. “I’m not the man you know. I’m not even the slightest bit like that man now. I- I’ve done so many bad things …I am a murderer, I- I could be so dangerous-“. He suddenly stopped when he realized she was kindly smiling at him with a knowing expression on her face.

She took his hands and slightly raised them. Her eyes never left his saddened ones.

“Buck… Steve told me. Well, not everything, of course, but I know what happened and I’ll be willing to listen if you’d want to tell me.” She paused. “I’m not scared of you. I understand and I’m so sad I couldn’t be with you sooner, to be by your side with everything you’ve been through.”

Then, she held higher his clothed left hand. She brought it to her lips and kissed it softly. He wished he were able to feel her.

“I’m not scared of any part of you” She left him speechless for a couple of minutes. He closed the distance he had put between them and closed his watering eyes, letting his mind wander once again with her inebriating perfume.

“I really don’t deserve you. I missed you so much, doll”

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A/N: If you made it this far, thank you for reading!! :)