#one of the top reasons why i have done my best despite stress and arguing and everything going on to keep moving

[senseless-blabbering]

kind of very personal reflection in the tags about health and fear of death i guess

[thesedangeroustemptations]

Baki boy’s handling a S/O who randomly flinches at being unexpectedly touched due to their past

Hi guys! I haven’t written in a while and I haven’t gotten any requests, so I thought I’d write about something that I struggle with and that other people might as well! So, Trigger Warning is in effect for down below, if you think it might bother you, feel free to keep scrolling and I’ll see you around for the next one, have a great day <3 

TW: Prior abusive relationships, dementia, anxiety, PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder) and family issues 

Baki Hanma: 

The first time Baki notices it, the two of them are at school and he snuck up behind them to surprise them as they didn’t have classes together until after lunch, his hands resting on their hips and the moment he did this, they about jumped out of their skin.

 He instinctively believes that something is wrong, and despite his brain telling him to bring it up in conversation, he didn’t want to possibly upset them. Simply rationalizing it as he snuck up on them, of course they’d be spooked. Anyone would be... right? 

Wrong. This behavior continued at the most random of times; they’d be having a good time and then he’d move his arm too fast, the next moment they were flinching away from him with a frightened expression that they were consciously trying to control. 

This was no longer something that Baki could ignore, and chose to approach the conversation as gently and casually as he could to not upset them too much, but it seemed by the tears welling in their eyes that this was a sensitive topic.

They explain about their relationship with their parents, how when they were living with them, they were physically abusive when it came to getting their way or discipline. Anything could be used as an excuse to hit them, not taking out the trash on time? Slap. Not doing the dishes and laundry before their parents got home? Smack. Seemed to be having an attitude when answering a question? Slap. Anything ranging to them ‘breathing with attitude’. So, when they were old enough and had enough money, they moved out and cut off contact.

Upon hearing this, Baki could hardly think straight, and it took everything in him to keep himself from finding them himself to give them a piece of what they put his beloved through, but he couldn’t do that. 

He knew that the place he was most needed was right there, so he’d wrap his arms around their shakily breaking frame and hold them close to his chest, one hand rubbing their back while the other smoothed back their hair, gentle kisses peppering their forehead as he rocked the two of them. 

He would never allow anything to harm them again, and if he ever got the chance to meet their parents... it’s game on. “I know it’s something that you can’t help, but try to remember as best you can that I’d die before I laid a hand on you in anger or allowed anyone else to ever again.”

Jack Hanma: 

This man is nowhere near as patient as his brother, so the first moment he notices something is off with his partner and quick, unexpected movements, he confronts them and he wants his answers then, not the second time he asks, something he makes very clear. Jack doesn’t like repeating himself or vague answers.

However, what he wasn’t expecting was for them to tell him to mind his own business and stalk away as if he had done something wrong. This doesn’t sit well with the blonde giant, they’re normally very open and honest about nearly anything and everything with him, so this personality flip only deepened his concern. 

Letting the pot simmer for a few hours while he worked to collect his thoughts on the matter, he would later find them in their shared room, an apologetic look etched into his expression which was a rarity held only for the likes of his S/O. 

“I’m sorry... can you please just tell me what it is that’s upsetting you already?” He would murmur from the door, waiting like a puppy to be called over to the bed and as soon as he is, he clears the room in two strides, taking a seat beside them and wrapping his protective arms around them.

Jack doesn’t have much tact when it comes to this, but his heart is in the right place and his S/O can see that he means well, so despite his blunt approach, so the moment his arms wrapped around them, they relent and finally open up to him about their past relationships with their older siblings and how they would frequently be used as the punching bag, figuratively and literally. 

Just as his anger was beginning to boil over, and he was ready to sit them down with a movie while he went out to have a ‘conversation’ with them all, they hit him with something that he hadn’t been expecting, 

“You know, if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have wanted to start training, and then maybe I wouldn’t have met you. So, I guess I owe them a thank you for giving me you.” They spoke with such sincerity, how could he argue back at that? Their hands gently cupping his cheeks as they smiled slightly at him, hoping to get one back.

It was with that, he felt every ounce of anger leave his body and all he could feel was love for the person he was holding. They had a point, there was no guarantee that they would have met outside of their shared love for the gym, so maybe he did have them to thank. Not out loud of course, because fuck them, all he cared about was what was in his arms.

Katsumi Orochi: 

Katsumi would be one of the first to notice something was wrong with his S/O, he had known them for a bit of time before deciding to ask them to be his, so he had time to observe the way they interacted with others and the little tics that they had. 

The first time he had seen it happen as when someone in his class had walked up beside them without their noticing and then spoke, earning them a clock to the face and a thousand apologies after that. Of course, he like Baki, would try to rationalize it as them being spooked until the issue persisted into their relationship, and they were doing it with him.

The first time it happened in private, he would catch their fist as it swung in his direction and pulled them close, speaking in as soft and soothing voice as he could while addressing the issue at hand. “I don’t want to upset you, in fact that���s my last wish, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

No longer able to run from it, they finally broke down and the two curled up in their shared bed while they went over their past relationship and how they were frequently met with physical violence at any time, ranging from a slap across the face, to a punch, to things further that they weren’t comfortable telling him. 

This was what he wanted, he wanted them to tell him what was wrong, why they acted the way they did, so why was he so upset over knowing the truth? Seeing the tears welling in his S/O’s eyes and trickling down their rosy cheeks told him the reason; who could hurt someone so kind and gentle? It infuriated him, but he couldn’t show it, he needed to be strong for the person he loved when they needed him the most.

Wrapping his muscular arms around their frame, he pulled them closer to him and rested his chin on top of their head, eyes focused on the wall ahead of them as he listened to their breathing, reminding himself that they were safe with him, and there wasn’t a chance in hell of them ever harming them again; if they tried, that’s free anger management. 

When the two of them laid down that night, he made them a promise that he would never let anything happen to them again, and that he would help them get their sense of safety back, that they wouldn’t have to react in such a defensive and reactionary way when the people around them would never hurt them. They didn’t understand fully just how seriously he would take that promise. 

From that day forward, he would frequently remind them that they were safe, they would train harder and longer so they would feel as though they could handle themselves in any situation, and anytime they would start to feel anxious or out of control, he would hold them in his arms and remind them of the promise he made, and that he would never leave them alone to deal with this. 

Kaioh Retsu: 

This man would be the best out of all of them when it comes to noticing and reaction, not gonna lie. He didn’t need to see them flinch away from people, he could see the way that they would scan the room before making any movements, how they would take note of everyone else in the room with them and where they were, the consistently worried and alert look in their eye. It had him coming to conclusions of his own, and he was afraid that they would be right. 

Would approach the topic after a night at home, the two in the shower and them flinching at his touch once he finally joined them in the water. He would bring it up gently, his arms wrapping around their body so that they would feel safe with him, pressing his toned form against theirs in an attempt to show that they are one. 

“I love you, and I can feel when you’re upset by something, so please, trust me enough to confide in me. I simply wish to help you.” He would plead with them, his dark eyes showing nothing but sincerity and honesty to where his S/O can’t deny him. 

Retsu would let them stray from the topic a few times before finally pressing the topic a bit more firmly, showing that he would not be relenting on this and that it would save them both some time if they just went ahead and told him what he wanted to know. 

Gently stroking their cheek with the back of his fingers, his other hand still placed on their lower back and holding them still as he listened to their words, processing how they had been bullied when they were younger and dealt with physical attacks at school that no one did anything about, so they had to always be on guard and be able to run at a seconds notice, hence the flinching away at unexpected touching.

It made sense to him, it did, but what he couldn’t grasp just yet was why they hadn’t chosen to defend themselves, until they explained it was nearly everyone, so one against a huge group when they were just a child wouldn’t have ended well and he had to admit they were right. 

Makes it his mission to make them feel as safe as possible, keeping them away from any type of danger or stressful situation where people would be moving at fast paces so not to trigger their fight or flight reaction and cause them anxiety. Retsu is very mindful of his S/O and makes sure that they’re comfortable wherever they go, and asks if there’s anything they need from him. 

Also goes the route of teaching them self defense if they don’t already know any, and if they do, simply helps them sharpen them and shows them new techniques that might be more effective to use, but never once does he make them feel like they aren’t strong enough. He wants to build their confidence, and he knows the right way to go about it. 

Kaoru Hanayama:

Kaoru’s S/O is incredibly private about their past, not wanting to let the poor guy in on anything about their prior experiences and why they act the way that they do or why they flinch away from people at the most random times. It’s frustrating to say the least, and whenever it happens, they give him a look that simply says ‘don’t say anything if you don’t want an argument.’

However, Hanayama isn’t the type to shy away from confrontation, and if he feels it’s something that’s detrimental to his S/O, you’d best believe he’s going to bring it up when he feels the time is right and won’t let up on it until he gets a satisfactory answer. Standing in front of the door and blocking it with his large frame to make his point clear as he stares them down with his shadowy hues. 

“I’m not doing this to upset you or trap you here, I’m doing this so you’ll finally tell me what goes on in your head and how I can fix it. If you really want to leave I’ll let you go but just... please. Let me try and do something to help for once instead of shutting me out.” This is not the type of man to beg for anything, he’s head of the Hanayama gang after all, but when it came to the person he loved, he’s willing to do anything, even look like a lovesick fool.

Somehow, that finally got through to them, and they’d sit down on the nearest piece of furniture, be it a couch or bed, and begin to explain slowly, as if they would run out of air every few sentences, about their relationship with their abusive, alcoholic mother, and how she would ‘discipline’ her children in the cruelest ways possible, how it could be at the drop of a hat, over the most obscure and miniscule things, anything that she felt like. 

Being the eldest child, his S/O was forced to endure the brunt of it to keep their siblings safe, things only ever happening to their siblings when they weren’t around, and how they aren’t understood by them now because of how they were raised effected them differently due to this dynamic. 

His mind goes blank for a moment as rage seeps in and takes over, causing his large frame to tense from his position in front of the door; the only thought he had was on repeat: Kill that bitch. Kill that bitch. Kill that bitch. He had the men to do it, he had the strength to do it himself, he had the police under his thumb, he could really get away with this. 

All of these thoughts flooded his mind and clouded his vision until he felt warm hands on his scarred face, earning his attention immediately as his vision cleared and all that he could see was the loving eyes of his S/O as they stood in front of him, a worried expression adorning their face. “Promise me that you won’t do anything to her, she isn’t worth your time or mine. What is, is going forward and leaving the past behind, okay?”

Fuck, they had him there. He was the one who wanted to help them after all, how could he do that by sinking down and doing exactly what was done to them to her? As much as he wanted to tell them that they were wrong, that they would feel better with her off this earth, he couldn’t. Instead, he wrapped his large arms around them and engulfed them into his frame, whispering quietly into their ear as he held them close, “I’ll never let anything hurt you again. Ever. I promise you.”

Kiyosumi Katou: 

This man understands being twitchy, not liking being touched too much unless initiated and would respect that the moment he noticed that was the way that they were, and would have no complaints. 

Until they started acting that way around him in private. They should know that he would never lay a hand on them, and gets slightly insulted that they didn’t register that. 

That is, until they explain that it’s something that they’ve always struggled with due to their high levels of anxiety and that they’d spent years living in an unpredictable environment where they didn’t know if someone was going to start throwing punches or not, unable to defend themselves or fight back.

This took a moment to sink in for Katou, not sure how to react or if they were telling him the truth but then he remembers that they’ve never lied to him in the past and this was something incredibly serious, so why would they do that, right? (Tell me you have trust issues without telling me you have trust issues)

However, the moment that it did fully get through that thick skull of his, he is engulfing his S/O in tight hugs and not saying a word, allowing his actions to speak louder than his words for once in his life, knowing that nothing he could say in that moment would make the pain that they’d gone through go away, and it was insulting to try.

Holding them for the remainder of the night, he wouldn’t want them out of his sight for longer than a few moments to go to the bathroom or get food while they sat on the couch and watched whatever it was that they wanted, because they trusted him enough to be vulnerable and express a part of themselves that they didn’t trust many with, so anything they wanted right now, they were going to get.

From that day forward would take it upon himself to ask how his S/O was doing during the day, if he could do anything to help them feel less anxious or stressed whenever he could tell that they were having a bad day. Most would assume that because of his cunning and brutal nature that Katou wouldn’t be very smart, and IQ wise they’d probably be right, however, when it comes to emotional intelligence, he’s pretty spot on.

Keeps his S/O close wherever they go, his arm is permanently wrapped around their shoulder while they walk down the side walk or standing in line, his expression that of ‘I wil break your neck if you come near them with any bad intentions and I’m not afraid of jail.’

Hector Doyle:

Doyle isn’t one to show much emotion, on his expression or in his words, but he is incredibly observant, and takes in far more information than the average person would in a simple situation, so the moment he saw his S/O flinch their shoulder away from a friend appearing suddenly beside them, he took note of it and began to analyze. 

Had that friend done something to upset them in the past that made them uncomfortable? Had they smelled bad and his S/O didn’t want to be rude by telling them? Several different things went through his mind based on that small interaction, and by the next time it happened with a different person, that it wasn’t anything to do with anyone else, it was you.

Now, the question is, what was causing his S/O to act the way that they had been? Obviously it was something that had been doing for a reason, and it seemed to stem from people either touching them or showing up without their knowledge, or swift movements by those around them. Could they have dealt with prior abuse? The mere thought made Doyle’s blood boil, but he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions without solid evidence or confirmation from them.

He’d bring up the topic while they’re laying in bed late at night one of the rare one’s he’s in heading to sleep the same time as them, given he’s a night owl and prefers the silence of night time and how few people were out, but he’s willing to sacrifice one night to get the answers that have been nagging at the back of his mind to get confirmation for.

“You seem to freak out at the smallest things, like someone moving their hand too fast near you, or touching you when you didn’t see it coming, even when it’s a friend or myself, what’s the deal?” Boy, he could not word that much worse if he had tried, and the reaction he got to such a topic being brought up in that way was to be expected; hostility.

“So, you’ve been sitting here observing me like I’m a lab rat in some experiment?” “What’s wrong with that?” A lot of things, and they made sure he knew it before deciding to give him the answers he’d been wanting to know so badly. It took them a while to find the right words, starting and stopping themselves several times but Doyle sat in silence, watching quietly as he waited patiently for them. He wouldn’t rush them, he’d already been an asshole with his approach.

After a long while of silence on both ends, they explained to him about how their grandmother had dementia while they were growing up and how she lived with them since her parents didn’t want to send her to a home, and while she was mentally deteriorating, she would get violent and throw things or blows, hitting his S/O several times in the head or body when they weren’t paying attention or fast enough, and so it’s become a reflexive habit. 

It wasn’t as bad as he had thought, but still, the mental scars it seemed to take on his S/O were just as bad as real ones in his opinion, so he would start to make it a habit of keeping an eye on their surroundings and stopping anyone from startling his S/O before they had a chance, doing little things like moving slower or announcing his presence; would 100% deny it if his S/O brought it up. He might be a jerk who loves a good fight, but not with his S/O.

[thetargaryenbride]

A break [Levi x Fem!Reader]

Requested by: @emmaandemmal  Hi, I love your works! Can I request one where Levi and his fem s/o have been a couple since before they were captured by the scouts in the underground? After the deaths of Isabel and Farlan, the reader tries to convince Levi to leave the scouts with her to go and live together in a safer place, but he refuses saying that he believes in Erwin's vision of the scouts and the two begin to fight badly. The reader eventually stays in the scouts because she doesn't want to leave without him, but the relationship between Levi and the reader is getting colder and more detached. The reader begins to think that Levi is no longer interested in her after noticing his growing friendship with Petra and she decides to leave the scouts thinking it's the best decision for her and for Levi. When Levi finds out, he tries to find her, but without success. Only a few years later, he catches a glimpse of her in the crowd after the scouts have returned from an expedition and he follows her. Once they arrive at the reader's house, she and Levi make up and the reader claims that she has been selfish in the past and that she would like to return to the scouts to fight against the titans and to claim the deaths of Isabel and Farlan. Eventually the reader and Levi resume their relationship and Levi promises her that nothing would separate them again. I'm really sorry that it's so long, if you consider this idea feel free to modify it as you wish. Sorry for my English too... it’s not very good. Thank you so much, you're one of the best Levi writers I know! ❤️

I’m sorry for the delay, dear. I was struggling with a mini writer’s block and was focusing more on art but I’m slowly getting back on track! Thank you so much for the request and thank you for your kind words. This really means a lot to me! As far as modifying goes, the only thing I modified is the timeskip. Instead of a few years, I made it one year. I hope you don’t mind ^^

Words: 4.5K

Warnings: Very Brief mention of suicide, prostitution and self-harm

Hope you like it  ❤️ Feedback is deeply appreciated! ^^

Also, if Levi seems OOC, please feel free to correct me~ I accept constructive criticism ^^  

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You were arguing.

You never argued.

But the situation that had befallen you made you feel all sort of ways and neither of you knew how to express those emotions, that stress, which is why it had slowly turned into a fight.

“You shouldn’t have agreed! We have no idea how the world above works! We’re going to fuck up, Levi,” you raised your voice, hands clenching into fists by your sides, levels of anger rising at Levi’s indifference at the situation. You knew that it was only a façade and that deep down Levi wasn’t indifferent. You knew he was probably worried just as much as you were. But right now you were so scared and you wanted him to just show some more emotion, fight back, shower you with words of reassurance, hug you…anything…not just stand with crossed arms, staring at you.

“So what, I should’ve let the bushy eyebrowed bastard send us in prison?” he raised an eyebrow as if challenging you to give him a good reason for your big distaste of joining the Survey Corpse. He couldn’t understand why you had exploded like that when he had agreed. It was the perfect opportunity for the fulfillment of your mission…Not that you had been very accepting of the mission either. Your paranoia and distrust always clawed at you, many a time ripping any semblance of reason and logic. But he couldn’t’ exactly blame you. He was similar in a way. He supposed that this is what living in the Underground did to you.

Living?

No. More like struggling, digging in the mud, to survive.

And the two of you had been doing this since you were kids.  

“I’d rather rot in a prison cell than a titan’s stomach. And since when do you trust nobles anyways? It’s mostly because of them that we all fester here in this dump,” you spat out and he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh.

“If you are so against this mission, why are you even joining?” he shot back and you choked on whatever words you had the intention of spilling.

You took a deep breath as you slumped next to him on the couch, body completely slacking in defeat as your anger simmered down a bit.

“Do you even have to ask me that?” you muttered as you stared at the ceiling, the hands in your lap fiddling with your fingers. “It’s because I would never turn my back on my family…on you,” you murmured as you straightened up and turned to face him. “Even if it’s the stupidest decision which would probably result in something shitty, I’ll still stick with you. You are all I have…I love you,” you timidly uttered the last words, casting your eyes downwards as a slight blush spread over your cheeks. The man sighed before his hands went to grab yours, successfully stopping your fiddling and wringing, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Look at me,” he ushered you gently yet firmly and you lifted your head, locking eyes with his. “We’ll be fine.”

You let out another sigh before you leaned, letting his arms encircle your form as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

“I pray that you’re right,” you whispered and just when you thought you could have a moment of peace, Farlan entered the room with a constipated expression. You couldn’t blame him. You were all beaten and battered by the soldiers and your ego was bruised, even though you let them capture you. And now they were all standing in your home or surrounding it while you packed the little of your belongings, breathing down your neck.

It was suffocating.  

“We’ve packed everything. It’s time to go.”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You wanted to blame him.

You wanted to tell him – “I told you so.”

But that wouldn’t bring back Farlan and Isabel.

It wouldn’t stitch back their ripped bodies.

They were gone and the only thing you could blame was this world.

Because it was so cruel.

And the only beauty you found in it was your love for Levi and his love for you.

He had no fault. Nobody knew that things would turn out like this. That fate would decide to cackle in your faces.

The two of you stuck together like glue more than ever after that day. You even went as far as to disregard rules as you would sneak into the men’s barracks just to sleep with him because he was the only one who managed to chase away the nightmares and wipe your tears. And you knew, even without him saying it directly, that you were the only one who could comfort him when he was feeling the burden of the world crushing his shoulders. And Farlan and Isabel’s deaths really did feel like the whole world just crumbled on top of you two. The only difference was that you were more prone to emotions and didn’t find such a difficulty at expressing them unlike Levi who preferred to bottle everything inside, feign indifference and coldness and find toxic coping mechanisms like not sleeping which as time passed shaped into the ugly form of his insomnia, despite all the scolding you’ve done.

Time passed. The first weeks after Isabel and Farlan’s deaths, you had been inseparable. But that slowly began to change after the date of the next expedition was announced. Your paranoia spiked up one night after you had tried suppressing it for days and that resulted in a breakdown.

You wanted out.

You wanted to leave the Scouts.

You had even gone as far as to talk to Erwin and the Commander, literally begging them to help you with the citizenship matters and let you and Levi leave. But of course, they refused and Erwin even went to speak to Levi about this, not knowing that the man had no idea about your plans and wishes.

Levi was angry that you did something like that behind his back. He understood your fear. He understood very well because he was afraid too. He was afraid that he was going to lose you too – the only person he had left. But he didn’t appreciate that you hadn’t been straightforward with him regarding such a serious matter, only revealing everything you have done and felt at the heat of the moment.

“I’ve been dreaming about this since I was a little girl, hiding in the wardrobe, listening how man after man would use my mother every night. Dreaming about a life, safely tucked in the corner of the world, surrounded by beautiful nature, peace and quiet, alongside my beloved person... Is it so bad that I want this for us?” you had asked with trembling voice and Levi’s expression had softened, a sign that he had forgiven you for everything and that he didn’t want to argue anymore.

“As much as I want that too, we can’t have it when the titans are roaming everywhere, threatening to wipe out Humanity. If we don’t destroy them now, we are only delaying our doom,” he muttered as his hand went to softly caress your cheek, making you sigh as you leaned into his touch. “But that man, Erwin Smith, sees something that I don’t. He has a plan to save humanity and… he sees victory… That’s why I want to stay in the Survey Corps and fight,” he admitted and at that moment, you found yourself captured by that determination burning in his eyes.

His desire to fight for a better future.

Not only for the sake of you two, but for the sake of thousands of people.

And while you weren’t completely sure yet that you were ready to sacrifice your happiness and life for a bunch of people you didn’t know or care about, you knew that you were ready to sacrifice anything and everything for him.

And that’s why you stayed.

And he knew that. He knew you better than you knew yourself. But he chose not to call you out for this. Because he understood how you felt. He didn’t belittle you. He didn’t call you selfish or insensitive or a bad person just because you didn’t want to care about anyone else but him. What does selfish, insensitive or bad even mean? They are just vague concepts that are different from every person’s point of view.

And as more time passed, after every expedition, he could see why you wanted to leave. He could see why you didn’t want to fight. Every expedition, every death, left an impact on you, stealing bit by bit from your sunny personality and shaping you into a depressed, miserable person.

Even if you claimed that you didn’t care about strangers dying, deep, deep down, he knew you did. It was just the person you were, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about anyone but him in order to protect yourself. But on a deeper level you still cared and you were still affected and he knew that you hated feeling like this – it brought only chaos, confusion and misery to your mind and soul as you desperately tried to live up to your own expectations and build walls around yourself only for every brick to be broken as a comrade would send you a smile or compliment you or help you out with something. And after every expedition, he would gain a better understanding as to why you wanted to be selfish and leave. Why you wanted – why you tried forcing yourself – to stop caring about anything and everyone and run away with him – the one and only person who – you tried to convince yourself – mattered.

And he didn’t know why he couldn’t follow you. On many occasions, he felt the same. But somehow, for some reason, he would always find a way back to Erwin – back to the goal they shared for humanity. He didn’t know where that sudden loyalty for the blonde had come from – the same blonde who more or less had been the reason as to why Farlan and Isabel had died. But it was exactly this loyal bond that had formed between them that prevented Levi from following you and he hated himself for it because he could see how this life of soldiers was destroying you from the inside out and there were moments when he would lay at night and dark thoughts would cross his mind – of your body hanging from somewhere or him finding you drowned or with sliced wrists or a bullet stuck in the head.

It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to turn to self-harm as a coping mechanism and some even committed suicide.

The fight against the titans wasn’t something to be underestimated and it left an irreparable damage on everyone.

And he could see you were heading that way and he hated himself for not being able to put a stop to this and just grab your hand and run away from everything – as you wanted.

That’s why he decided to distance himself from you. He thought that maybe if he started ignoring you, if he was being cold and distant, it would put a rift in your relationship. It would make you think that he didn’t love you anymore. That you were a painful reminder of the past. And once your bond was severed, nothing would be holding you back. Nothing would stop you from leaving. Because he was the only thing, the only reason, as to why you were still sticking around. And then maybe you would finally be able to find the peace and quiet you had been seeking for ages.

His conversations with you became shorter. His answers – curt. His affection and acts of service decreased. It had brought you to tears, thinking that you had done something wrong and it tore him apart when he caught you crying one night. But it was for your own good so he had to grit his teeth and bear with it never mind how much it hurt that he was causing you this suffering.

Him being promoted to a Captain helped a lot. Now he didn’t need to find reasons or excuses to not spend time with you because he was genuinely so busy all the time. The stress was making him snappy too so he tried avoiding conversations altogether, not wanting to actually say something hurtful because then he would feel even more pain and regret and that would have his resolve crumble and he would go back to being loving and affectionate which was far, far from the goal he had.

Then Oluo and Petra had entered the picture – two members fresh into the Survey Corps, graduated from the same trainee squad with incredible talent and promising skills. He had taken them into his squad but he didn’t know that this would be the final straw to put such a rift in your relationship.  

It was true that Petra was a bit clingy. Her infatuation, devotion and loyalty to him were obvious. But he thought it was a childish, fleeting crush which is why he didn’t find it necessary to confront her about it. He thought it would disappear over time, especially with how both she and Oluo seemed like an old married couple more and more with each passing day. He didn’t want to push away the members of his own squad. He wanted to embrace them. To embrace their friendship. On a subconscious level, he was trying to fill the gaps left behind from the people he lost. The gaps oozing loneliness and pain. The gaps you couldn’t fill because he wasn’t allowing you to in his haste to push you away.

And when one day he went to have lunch with Erwin, as the two needed to discuss important matters in his office, he wasn’t expecting the blonde to deliver such mortifying news to him.

“Look, Levi…I’m sorry to say this but… Y/N left the Survey Corps,” told him the Commander with a sombre tone and Levi felt his entire world shift.

Suddenly, regret flooded him, chilling him to the very last atom.

Erwin saw each and every emotion flashing in his eyes. And even if he wanted to remind his friend of the words he had told him years ago, he couldn’t.

Because there were things in this life that were impossible not to regret.

Like losing a loved one because of your or their own demons.

It was one thing to lose a loved one to death. And completely another to lose them because of your decision.

Levi didn’t utter a word, pressing his lips in a thin line as he swiftly stood up and turned on his heel, leaving the office with ebony bangs covering his eyes, shielding him from his friend’s look of pity and compassion.

He needed to think.

He needed time.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You don’t realize how much someone or something means to you until you lose them.

No, that’s not exactly it.

Levi cherished you a lot. Levi loved you a lot. You meant the world to him. That’s why he wanted you to leave. He wanted you to find peace. He wanted you to live a good life away from that misery and bloodshed.

Even if it killed him on the inside.

Because if you truly love someone, you would let them go if it was for the sake of their happiness.

But now that he’s finally gone and done it. Now that he not only pushed you away as a lover but pushed you away from his life altogether, he felt lost.

He felt lost and miserable.

As if life was drained from any sound and colour, leaving him to float in some abyss, soaking in his own negative feelings.

The sorrow, the pain, the dread, the loneliness.

If he had to list them all, he would waste all of Erwin’s expensive parchment.

And as he laid there in his bed, after thinking and reflecting on everything for hours on end, staring at the ceiling with an empty bottle of alcohol shattered into pieces against the opposite wall – alcohol that barely got him tipsy – he realized that maybe he wanted to be selfish too. That, combined with the regrets of pushing you away, burned at his soul, melting any doubts he had, like a blacksmith melting steel, and solidified his resolve to find you and bring you back, like a new sword being forged.

So next day after he had gotten all his emotions, thoughts and feelings in check and after he had taken a decision, he approached Erwin and asked for your location.

He was unpleased when his friend told him that he had no idea where you went off to. Part of Levi wanted to be angry and yell at him. Accuse him of lying. But he was so tired after the emotional and mental battle he had wielded that he just gave up on his anger and frustration and decided that instead of letting such negative emotions rule over him, he would brush them aside instead and pave way for that same scorching determination he had for the Survey Corpse’s cause, now combining it with the determination of finding you.

And he didn’t stop.

Once he started, he didn’t stop.

He would visit every town, every village, whenever he was free from his duty.

He never stopped looking for you.

It took him roughly a year to scout most of Wall Rose’s lands.

But it was during one fateful evening, after the Scouts were returning from an expedition, when he spotted you.

The sun had just set, allowing the sky to be painted in purples and blues with shimmering stars being sprinkled onto the canvas. The street lanterns shone brightly and the comforting light spewing from them had illuminated a very familiar form.

A form that Levi knew like the lines of his own palm.

He hadn’t wasted time to jump from his black mare and chase after you. He didn’t want to approach and confront you right away so he just settled for walking at a slow pace behind you, trying his best to not be noticed or come off as some creep.

He seriously couldn’t believe his luck.

Knowing your thought pattern, he believed that you had run away somewhere far. Back in the days when you lived in the Underground, whenever you had arguments – which was very rare – you would always run away from home and hide somewhere far, knowing that it would be hard for him to find you and nearly giving him heart attacks because of it. But this time you had decided to hide right under his nose – near Trost district which was not far away from the SC HQ.

He counted himself outsmarted and he didn’t know whether to be annoyed by this or proud of you.    

You looked radiant even in the dusk. The cream dress you were wearing made you look like a vision, glowing in the dark. It reached a bit past your knees, revealing some of your calves while the upper part left your collarbones in the open. He longed to run his fingers over your skin. Through your hair. To touch you. To feel you. To hold you. To tell you what an idiot he was. How he wanted you back in his life because he couldn’t exist without you by his side.

To apologize.

“Are you going to keep following me or are you going to help me carry the basket?” your voice interrupted his train of thought and he cursed lightly under his breath. You chuckled and stopped in your tracks, turning around ever so slightly, eyes finally landing on the person you were so anxious to see again but didn’t have the courage to approach.

He wordlessly took the basket from your hands and began walking next to you.

All the way to your house you stayed silent.

He didn’t even comment when you exited the District and neared the woods, only lifting an eyebrow.

Your shoes and his boots clinked against the cobblestone pathway, the little door of the wooded fence creaking under your touch as you pushed it. His eyes scanned the yard, taking notice of the freely roaming chicken, a few lambs, one cow and one horse – your horse from the Survey Corps. He could vaguely make out a garden peeking from behind the house so he supposed you also had a backyard where you were growing your food. He almost flinched when a huge dog – almost as big as you and him – came running in your direction, demanding head pats which you gladly gave.

Levi was impatient. He wanted to enter the damn house already and talk. But at the same time, a part of him was happy about the delay. He almost gulped nervously at the thought of the following confrontation.

Almost.

At last, you unlocked the front door and the two took off your shoes, putting on slippers, and moved into the house. You took the basket from his hands and placed it on the kitchen counter before you grabbed a rag to wipe the table and beckoned the man to sit down. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, taking a step towards the chair before halting, looking at you rigidly, and resuming his journey until he was finally sat. You clenched and unclenched the rag before you threw it away and sat across him, fingers now playing with the soft fabric of your dress. You looked at the ground and he looked at your feet, noticing your toes curling and uncurling from nerves even through the slippers.  

“I-“

“Levi-“

You both said at the same time and you chuckled lightly at the cliché situation.

“You first,” uttered the man and you gulped, sending him a wobbly smile.

“I want to apologize-“ you took a short pause and an intake of air when you saw his eyes widening as his features twisted in a dumbstruck expression as if he was unable to process why you were apologizing. “-for leaving so suddenly without uttering a word. It was…childish,” you quieted down and he closed his eyes, sighing deeply. “You were walking further and further away from me, getting extra busy with being a Captain and…and then Petra came into the picture,” you muttered but were fast to wave your hands in defence, “Not that I ever doubted your loyalty! My trust in you would never waver but…I just thought that maybe we both needed a break. We needed to breathe and clear our heads and start thinking properly. That’s why I decided to leave and give us some space. I never truly intended on leaving the Survey Corps or abandoning you…You mean so much to me…but I’m still sorry that I-“

“Stop,” he rose to his feet and you quickly followed, anticipation and fear at his next possible words, building up inside of you, making you feel like burning. “You don’t have to apologize. You did nothing wrong.”

That calmed you down a bit, the fear leaving your mind, but instead, worry settled as you looked at the way he lowered his head and bit his lip.

“I acted wrongly…I was foolish by thinking that pushing you away would bring you the freedom and happiness you sought,” he muttered and your face softened. “I just,” he sighed as his trembling hand went through his hair in an attempt to ground himself. “I just saw how impacted you would get after every expedition…how you started losing that glow of yours, your bubbly and sunny persona…I saw how hard you were trying to force yourself to stop caring, to be selfish and leave, but you still couldn’t because…because you’re not like that… damnit,” he grit out as he tugged on a few strands before letting his hand fall and rest against his hip limply.

He kicked himself inwardly. He was never good at expressing himself. The moment he had seen you in the crowd, the moment he had set a goal to talk to you and sort everything out, he had been reciting in his head and thinking what exactly he was going to tell you and how he was going to explain himself and the reasoning behind his actions.

“I just-“

“-wanted me to be happy…So you thought that by being a dick and pushing me away, you would make me leave so I can find my peace and quiet somewhere far, far away,” you finished for him, deciding to help him out which caused him to halt in his speech and just stare at you, waiting for your next words, the terror of you rejecting him or telling him that you didn’t feel the same anymore felt like a nettle rope around his neck, getting tighter and tighter with each second, suffocating and scathing him. “Listen, while you might have been partially right, you were also wrong. Because even if I do find happiness away from all the bloodshed, it just wouldn’t be the same without you, silly,” you shook your head as you sent him a sad smile. “I’d rather endure all the pain and suffering in the world than be separated from you,” you finally took the courage to close the space between you as you laid your head on his chest, arms slowly sliding around his torso. He didn’t hesitate to return the hug, sharply bringing you closer, if that was possible, and squeezing you so hard you didn’t know whether to groan from pain or chuckle at seeing him express himself so openly and in such a sweet, boyish manner. It kind of brought back memories from the days you lived in the Underground and how he would hug you exactly like that when you would do something stupid that would put you at risk, albeit a bit more awkwardly since back when you were teenagers you both had no idea how to express your love for each other.

“Deep down I knew you were onto something. Because why would you start acting like that so suddenly? It just wasn’t in your style. But at the same time I felt…” he tightened his embrace even more and buried his face in your hair, inhaling your scent and letting it comfort his tortured mind. He had missed you so unbearably much.

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry,” he whispered and you sighed as you ran your hands over his back in a soothing manner.

“I forgive you, Levi…I understand that you did it for my own good. But believe me when I say that I can’t find true freedom or happiness without you by my side,” you placed a kiss on his shoulder before pulling away to look him in the eyes. “Don’t ever leave. Don’t ever try to make me leave. Let’s just stick together through thick and thin as we’ve done since we were kids, ok?” you asked and he nodded, leaning hesitantly. You met his lips halfway and you kissed gently which slowly turned into a passionate, hungry, heated and desperate make out as you tried to feel one another after a whole year of being apart. When you finally broke it off, needing air, you rested your forehead against his and let yourself soak in his presence. He did the same. You just stayed like that, foreheads touching, arms around one another as you swayed ever so slightly.

“Want to help me pack?”

[rosyl-stuff]

Finding Love

Paring: Lee Sangyeon (The Boyz) x reader

Genre: arranged royal marriage, fluff & angst

Warnings: nothing really (You can always message me if there is something triggering and I will add it as a warning)

Word Count: 4.1k (~17 minutes reading time)

You always knew that your parents will arrange a marriage for you. It was almost like a tradition. Royals rarely married out of love. Maybe they married out of love for the power that comes with marriage. Still, a part of you hoped that you find someone you love, with whom you can spend the rest of your life together. A part of you hoped that your parents would decide on a different faith for you. Unfortunately, this wasn't the case. Your parents promised you to the crown prince Sangyeon.

His kingdom is currently at war with the neighbouring kingdom in the south. With the marriage between your kingdoms, they want to form an ally to finally end the war. Your kingdom was small and wasn't really influential, but it had a strong navy, which Sangyeons kingdom needed. Your parents hoped to gain more political influence and prestige through this political alliance.

Your kingdom was thrilled by the news of you being the soon to be spouse of prince Sangyeon, even though they knew that this meant going to war. Maybe they were bored of the peace or, the outlook of glory and honour excited them. Sangyeon’s kingdom, on the other hand, was suffering. The war was holding on for a very long time by now and, the resources started to shorten.

Your parents gave you the option to refuse, but you didn’t have a good reason why you should say no other than that you barely know him. You didn’t want to let anyone down, so you agreed to the planned proposal. As a child, you always imagined your future self to fall in love with some Robin Hood and be a runaway princess, but you never had a secret lover. And besides that, the few times you met Sangyeon before, he has been nothing but friendly and respectful to you. You heard rumours of him being a ladies' man. Some of them going even as far as saying he already had a child. If this turns out to be true, it would probably hurt your pride a little, but you will learn to accept that. Marrying Sangyeon also came with many opportunities for you, such as the chance to reign one day.

The day of the wedding was stressful. The atmosphere was tense while everyone pretended that two childhood best friends are now marrying. This was the story told to the general public and, they were absolutely buying it. From the outside, it was the perfect love story to cheer up the kingdom. But in reality, you felt absolutely awkward. You didn't really have any chance to speak to Sangyeon before. During the reception, both of you were also busy keeping your guests entertained. When the night fell, you sat on the massive bed of your new bedroom and felt like throwing up. You were definitely not ready to spend the night with Sangyeon. But it was expected of you and, you didn't want to disappoint anybody. Sangyeon came in with a smile on his face. He seemed to enjoy the festivities today. Probably it was a good distraction from his usual stressful days here. The moment Sangyeon saw your face, his smile faded.

“You alright?” he asked.

You simply nodded because you didn't know how convincing you could lie to him.

“You look a little sick…” he murmured and squatted down in front of you.

He took your face in his hands and inspected your face. You thought you saw the worry in his face. Maybe you should just tell him. Maybe he would understand. You cleared your throat and tried to avoid eye contact.

“Are you nervous about tonight?” he asked.

"Maybe…" you mumbled as you felt tears sting in your eyes.

Sangyeon released your face and opted to hold both of your hands.

“Tell me what’s wrong”, Sangyeon asked as his thumbs caressed the back of your hands.

“I don’t think I’m ready”, you breathed out very fast.

You were almost sure he didn’t understand you, but then you heard him sigh.

“I’m sorry”, you mumbled, looking away.

“Don’t be! It’s fine. Let’s just go to bed.”

He stood up, hesitating for a moment, but then he gave you a soft kiss on your temple. When you looked up to him, he gave you a reassuring smile. It made you feel a little bit better, so you softly smiled back. His hands started to softly go through your hair to undo your hairstyle. You close your eyes, enjoying his soft touch. Your hair was already free, but Sangyeon still continued with his gentle strokes. You felt yourself relaxing as it reminded you of your childhood. Your mother used to do this to comfort you.

“Thank you”, you hummed and opened your eyes to look at him.

He was already looking at you fondly and, as you made eye contact, he gave you a cute smile.

The little moment the two of you were having was roughly interrupted by a guard storming in. Sangyeon turned around to him and, the guard quickly bowed in apology and stuttered something about rebels invading the castle. Your brain didn't really process the information until you heard the sounds of fighting coming closer to your door.

Sangyeon quickly pulled you up from the bed and told you to stay with him. He grabbed his sword in one hand as his other hand took your hand. He pulled you out of the bedroom and down the corridor, away from the fighting noises. You rounded a corner and were immediately confronted with two rebels charging towards you. "Stay behind me!" Sangyeon ordered as he started to fight with the two invaders. One of them managed to stab his sword into Sangyeon's thigh, which made him lose focus for a second. One second was enough for the other one to get past Sangyeon and charge towards you. You grabbed a candlestick that was used to décor the corner of the hallway. You swung it towards the rebel. It didn't felt like it looked elegant, but at least it was effective. You hit the rebel right on top of his head and sank to the ground with a groan. Immediately, Sangyeon was by your side again. "Are you hurt?" And as soon as you shook your head no, he pulled you further along the hallway. Sangyeon was limping a bit, but he still forced himself to go at a fast pace. He opened a secret passage behind a big painting and ushered you in. He quickly followed and closed the door behind him. It was completely dark in the secret passage and, you moved your hands in the search for Sangyeon. Your hands found his chest. You felt him breathing heavily. His hand touched yours on his chest and gently moved along your arm to locate your body. When he reached your shoulder, his hand wandered down your back before he slung his arm around your waist and pulled your flush to his chest.

“Sangyeon? My family…” You didn’t dare to finish the sentence.

"They should be fine", he whispered and started to slowly move you deeper into the dark passage.

You clung to him as you moved through the dark. You were probably restricting his movements, but he didn't complain, so you didn't let go. You reached a wooden door where Sangyeon knocked on in a specific rhythm. A few seconds later, the door was opened and revealed a lighted room. Sangyeon gently pushed you into the room. The first thing you saw was your mother running to you and engulfing you in a hug.

“I was so worried about you”, she said as she inspected if you had any injuries, “You can stop crying now. Everyone is here and safe.”

You touched your cheek and felt a wet sensation. You only now grasped that you indeed had been crying. Your mother pulled you towards the rest of your family. You looked back to Sangyeon and saw that a doctor was already looking at his wound. Your family was fussing over you and completely distracted you from the attack. As a guard came to the hideaway, he gave the all-clear signal. You and your parents went with Sangyeon and his parents to a parlour to discuss the matter.

As soon as the door was closed, your mother announced: “We are going to annul the marriage. There is no way I’m letting my only daughter live in such a dangerous situation.”

You tried to interfere, but your father gave you a look that told you, now is not the time for you to speak. You let yourself sink onto the chair next to Sangyeon, who looked visibly exhausted. "Are you alright?" you asked him. He nodded and tried to give you a reassuring smile, but he still looked like he was in a lot of pain.

The both of you watched your parents argue. Sangyeons parents refuse to annul the marriage, whereas your parents insisted on it. No one asked you or Sangyeon. You started to think about what you wanted. You had to admit that your public image was important to you. If the marriage was annulled, your image would be a little bit tarnished. The little lie about being madly in love with Sangyeon would also be exposed to the public. If you would stay despite the attack it probably would support your image and the little lie. Maybe it would even lift the spirit of Sangyeon’s kingdom. Sangyeon leaned over to you and whispered: “You should support your parents. This is your chance to get out of here. There won’t be another one.”

“You want me gone?” you whispered back.

He chuckled: “No, not really. I want you to be safe. You have done nothing to deserve this terror. This attack will not be the last one.”

“You keep me safe, right?”

"I want to keep you safe, yes. But I can't promise you safety. I will need to go to war and, you will be here alone. Sure, some guards protect you. But I can't promise you that I will succeed in keeping you safe."

“When you want me gone, why don’t you support your parents?”

"Did you not hear me? I don't want you gone. It might be selfish, but I think I will quite enjoy your company here. But I know that you're safer at home with your parents. I want to give you a way out because I know living here can be rough."

“Father! Mother!” you called out.

Sangyeon sighed and leaned back into his chair with his eyes closed.

“I want to stay here!” you announced.

Sangyeon opened his eyes in shock. You gave him a quick smile and patted his hand. Then you turned to your parents, who looked just as shocked. Sangyeons parents looked surprised as well, but for them, it was a pleasant surprise.

“Can I have a moment with my parents?” you asked them as you stood up.

They nodded and, you took your parents aside. Your mother was already crying.

“Have you lost your mind? You could be already dead”, your father said.

"I know, but Sangyeon will take good care of me. He will also keep me safe. Think about our own kingdom and reputation. We will look like cowards if we annul the marriage.”

"I don't care. I just don't want my child killed by rebels. They can have the navy and everything, but your safety is important to us", argued your mother.

"You cannot always protect me. Trust me. It is best if I stay here."

Your father sighed: "Let's sleep for the night. And if you still want to stay by tomorrow, I will consider it."

After that, everyone went to their bedrooms. You helped Sangyeon out of his clothes and into the bed. You barely slept that night, but the next morning you still wanted to stay. Your mother was unhappy about it, but in the end, they left without you. They realized that you were now an adult and wanted to accept your decision. However, they assured you that it is always possible to change your mind.

Sangyeon was probably the most thankful that you stayed. He tried to fulfil every wish you might have indicated you have. He spoiled you with expensive jewellery so much that you didn't know when to even put it on. He ordered the cooks to only cook your favourite food even though he didn't like it at all. One evening he came into the bedroom with yet another necklace and, you had enough. "I don't want it", you simply said.

“Do you not like it? Do you prefer a different style?”

"No, it is pretty. But I don't need another necklace and, I don't want it."

He looked at you confused: “W-what?”

“I don’t want your presents anymore, Sangyeon. And also, tell the cook to go back to the regular meal plan.”

“But it is your favourite food?”

“Sangyeon”, you stated firmly, “Stop that. I’m fine. I’m not fragile. I won’t change my mind because I don’t eat my favourite food every day.”

"I'm trying to be a good husband!"

You sighed: "I know you don't do this out of love but out of pity. I don't want your pity. If you want to be a good husband, then please stop with that."

Without another word or reacting to his shocked face, you went to bed and curled up on your side of the bed. Sangyeon sat down on his side of the bed: “Y/N? Please-“

“Goodnight, Sangyeon!”

The next day you successfully avoided Sangyeon. You feared you were too harsh with him, but you were sure he will soon get over it. In the evening, you and Sangyeon had a poet as a guest at dinner. In the beginning, the atmosphere was a little tense, but the poet was quite charming. Soon he had engaged you into deep conversation about the meaning of life. He also complimented you several times on your appearances and your intellect, which made you blush slightly. But at the same time, you brushed it off as him being nice. He made you feel very comfortable. It was the most extensive and most interesting conversation you had since you lived here. The lively conversation was interrupted by Sangyeon slamming his wine glass down on the table. You had to admit you totally forgot about your husband sitting across from you. Now everybody was staring at him while he glared at your guest.

“Is the wine not to your taste, Your Highness?” asked the poet.

“You, flirting with MY spouse, are what has spoiled my appetite", Sangyeon replied and, with that, he stood up and left the dining room.

“Please excuse my husband. He had a rough day today. I’m sure he didn’t mean that”, you excused Sangyeons behaviour. The rest of the dinner was kind of awkward but went by smoothly.

When you went to your bedroom, your maid informed you that Sangyeon is staying the night in one of the other bedrooms. You weren't sure if that meant someone else would be staying with him, but you didn't dare to ask your maid about it. Sooner or later, it would have happened anyway, but it still hurt. With an aching heart, you went to bed alone. The next morning, you woke up to a massive bouquet of roses. Not only were they a beautiful sight, but little love notes were hidden in the bouquet. All of them were signed with "Your secret admirer", which made you smile a little. After that night, you could use that little boost in your self-confidence. Your maid came in and grinned at you. "Flowers from an unknown lover are not unusual for a princess, even if she is married", she explained to you. You decided to not tell Sangyeon about the flowers and hid the love notes. Still, you felt like you should talk to Sangyeon about his behaviour at dinner.

You found Sangyeon in his study. He only shortly looked up and, after he saw it was you, he went back to his work.

“We need to talk about what happened at dinner”, you announced.

Sangyeon only gave a grunt of acknowledgement. You were starting to get a little bit mad.

“Are you aware how much influence this poet could have on our reputation? He could write you as a horrible and rude prince?”

“Or you as someone who lets everyone flirt with them”, Sangyeon countered.

You had to control yourself not to slap him as you felt the heat crawl up to your cheeks. Sangyeon slowly looked up at you with a challenging expression. Without another word, you left his study, but you make sure to slam the door.

You went back to your bedroom and crawled under the covers. You felt angry and humiliated. Maybe you should have let your parents annul the marriage. But you didn't know you would be facing these problems from early on in your marriage. You didn't understand why Sangyeon even cared about the poet flirting with you.

You didn't know how long you had been riding on your mental merry-go-round, but after a while, there was a knock on your door.

You sat up and shouted, "Come in!"

Sangyeon came in, which caused you to groan and turn away from him. When you didn't hear him move, you turned back to him. He still stood at the entrance to your bedroom with a box in his hands.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You just nodded. Sangyeon accompanied you on the bed. On his way, his eyes shortly lock onto the massive bouquet, but he decided to not comment on it. He opened the box he brought with him. It was filled with sweets. He held out the open box to you. When you didn't grab one, he took a piece himself and put the box down in front of you.

“I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I’m an idiot”, he started.

You nodded in agreement and took one of the sweets, which made him smile.

“And I’m also sorry about yesterday. I guess I couldn’t help myself but get possessive over you.”

It involuntary made you smile, so you quickly looked away. Sangyeon took this as a sign that you are still mad at him. He hesitated for a moment but then grabbed your hands.

“I’m really sorry. How can I make it up to you?”

You looked back at him, “Sweets are a good start!”

He grinned and pulled you into a hug. It was the first hug you ever shared and, it made your heart beat a little faster. You tried to control your body reactions. The last thing you now need is falling for Sangyeon when he just started to sleep with someone else. Without letting you go, Sangyeon laid down on the bed.

“I was upset yesterday because I realize I never had a conversation like that with you”, he confessed.

“Well, now is your chance…" you mumbled as you carefully cuddled a little bit more into his chest.

He smelled so good and, his arms around you were so comforting you were afraid of getting addicted to it. The majority of the day was spent talking to Sangyeon while cuddling and eating sweets. It felt like getting to know Sangyeon for the first time since you got married.

The next dinner the poet was still your guest and, you made an effort to smoothly block his flirty advances. You still remained friendly and kept up a lively discussion with him, but this time you made sure to include Sangyeon in it. Your guest wasn’t that happy about you blocking off his advances but retreated to a normal conversation. Sangyeon had a satisfied smile on his lips that he couldn’t really hide. After the dinner, the two of you walk to your bedroom and, Sangyeon admitted that he has been enjoying this dinner far more than the last one. You let out a giggle, but it was cut short when Sangyeon stopped in front of your bedroom door. You already forgot about him not sleeping in the same bedroom anymore. Now that he subtly reminded you, your heart started aching again.

You must haven't been able to control your expression because Sangyeon gave you a worried look and asked: “Are you alright?”

You quickly nodded and gave him your best fake smile. He smiled back and took your hand. His thumb gently caressed your hand as he looked down at your hands. Then he lifted your hand up to his lips and gave your hand a soft kiss that had a longing feeling to it. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you starred at him with wide eyes. "Goodnight, Y/N", he breathed against your hand before giving it another quick kiss. After that, he turned around left you standing there. Confused, you went to bed. More mixed signals than that were impossible.

To your surprise, there was another bouquet of roses the next morning. You thought the roses were from the poet, so you didn't expect another bouquet today. Again, there were multiple love notes hidden and, all of them made you feel really giggly. But none of them really did what Sangyeons hand kiss did to you.

Just as you finished hiding the notes, Sangyeon knocked at your door.

"Good morning. So last night, I thought about your interest in reign a kingdom and, I was thinking, you should help me with my work today." Your face lit up and, you enthusiastically took Sangyeons hand as he led you to his study. It was just your first day, but you learned so much. You were exhausted as you let yourself fall into bed that night. The next day you accompanied your husband in his study again. As you both took a little break, you decided to ask him what has been wandering on your mind the whole time.

“Sangyeon, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Who are you sharing your new bedroom with? Do I know this person?”

Sangyeon looked at you, confused.

“Who do you think I should be sharing the bedroom with? With my brother?”

“No… I thought… Nevermind.”

Sangyeon sat down on the chair next to you and took your face in his hands. He looked at you intently, trying to read your expression. You felt blood rush to your cheek as you moved your hands to his to move them away from your face. But Sangyeon didn’t budge.

"Y/N, I would never sleep with someone else. I'm married to you and, even though it was an arranged marriage, I will still be faithful to you."

“Then why…”

“I thought you wanted more space after you said you don’t want my presents anymore. I thought you felt restricted and suffocated by me. I didn't want to put pressure on you either. I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted is that you think I sleep with someone else. God no, I would never.”

Relief flooded through you as you nodded. Sangyeon smiled at you as his thumbs started to caress your cheeks.

“Can you come back to our bedroom?”

He nodded and pulled your face closer to his. For a second, you thought he is going to kiss you. But he just placed a soft kiss on your forehead, which was already enough to send the butterflies in your stomach flying.

That night you nervously waited for Sangyeon in your bedroom. He told you to go ahead and that he needs to do something before joining you. As the door opened, Sangyeon came in with a massive bouquet of roses. He set them down next to the other two. In this bouquet, no love notes were hidden, but instead, Sangyeon handed you a letter. As you opened the letter, you finally noticed that Sangyeon and your secret admirer had the same handwriting.

"You are my secret admirer?" you asked, surprised.

Sangyeon scratches his neck and chuckled awkwardly: "Yeah… But read the letter first, please."

Sangyeons letter was making you blush in the best way possible. You never received a confession letter, but you were sure it was the best confession letter to ever exist.

"Oh, Sangyeon, this is beautiful!”

You stood up and walked up to him. He also had a slight blush on his cheek, “You think so? I really like you. And I can understand if you don’t-“

You interrupted him when you grabbed his collar and pulled him towards you so you could kiss him. When your lips collided, the world seemed to move slower. All of the kisses before have always been soft, but this one was passionate and almost desperate. Sangyeons hand moved to your waist to pull you closer to him. The kiss felt like it would seal your happily ever after for the both of you.

[yeongwvnhi]

ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ᴬᵍᵃⁱⁿ

Pairing - Baekhyun x fem reader -> exes to lovers | Genre - Angst, fluff | warnings - none | taglist - @twancingyunhoe @trashlord-007 @tiddy-boys | synopsis - when Baekhyun and you broke things off a year ago, it felt alright, but you came to the painful realization that nobody could ever replace him or love you like he did | word count - 2.1k | thanks to @tiddy-boys for beta-reading ♡

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It's days like these, rain hitting the window in harsh taps and angry wind blowing, when the nostalgia hits the hardest. After all, you were always one to dwell on the past. It's just what you do. 

Every day felt the same after the two of you broke things off. You don't even remember why exactly you even ended it in the first place. The pain still sits deep, coming to haunt you when you least expect it. 

Rainy days like those just trigger the nostalgia, the memories and bygone feelings. 

It's 12pm when you check your phone, yet you're still laying in bed. The lack of motivation due to this sudden wave of sadness is something you're not experiencing for the first time. 

And it's killing you slowly. These feelings are eating you up from the inside out. 

Without even realizing, tears are running down your cheeks in even, salty streams. 

"Why am I even crying…" You mumble and lift your arm to cover your face, trying to make it stop. "God, I'm so pathetic" 

You try to manage to stop your tears, wrist harshly rubbing your eyes. After a minute or so, you succeed in stopping them. 

instead pick up your phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram. 

One peek won't hurt, right…? 

His name at the top of your searches seems to be mocking you as you hover your finger above it. Should you really do it? What if he found someone new and his profile is filled with couple pictures? Or what if he feels nothing and is glad to be alone? What if, what if, what if…

"Fuck it" you hiss and tap on his username, his profile popping up after a brief second of loading the page. 

He… hasn't posted anything for a few months, his last post being from October last year. 

Oh for fucks sake… is this a good sign or not? It could mean he's been seeing someone new, but it could also mean he's just been living his life like usual. 

So many possibilities, yet no resolution seems to be in sight. 

"This is so annoying, oh my gooood" You groan and smack your head into your pillow, laying sprawled out like a star with an annoyed pout on your face. 

"It's been a god damn year," You grumble, "why do I still feel like this?" 

The sound of your fist hitting the mattress of your bed is dull, not the way you wanted it to sound. "I hate this, UGHH" The frustration in your voice is for sure loud and clear, accentuated well by the 'ugh'. 

This whole situation is stressing you out. "I need a shower.." You mumble, absent-minded, as you fling the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. 

—

Despite the gloomy weather, you decided to take a walk outside. The rain still hasn't let up, droplets of it occasionally hitting your face. 

"Why is it so cold today? It's already spring…" You mumble quietly to yourself, eyes strictly trained on the path in front of your feet and head held low. 

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't see the person headed your way. 

And apparently, the person doesn't seem to notice you as well. So your shoulders collide and you stumble, umbrella falling out of your hand and fast quick steps to regain your balance. 

"I'm so sorry! Are you al-" The man rushes to apologize, but his words get stuck in his throat as he takes in who he just, quite literally, stumbled into. 

Rain has hit you mercilessly, soaking you from head to toe within seconds as you stand there, paralyzed. "Baek…Baekhyun?" 

His eyes are wide and mouth slightly open in shock as he doesn't know what to say or do. 

He hasn't seen or talked to you in at least nine or ten months for sure. What is he even supposed to say? "Yeah… it's- it's surely been a while" he dumbly answers. "Ah! Your umbrella!" Baekhyun rushes to pick it up and hold it over your figure. 

But the damage is already done. 

You're shivering, dripping with water but still you've a tiny smile on your lips at the sight of him. 

You delicately take hold of the handle, fingers gently enclosing around the man's hand. 

He doesn't move to let go, just standing there and staring into your eyes. "I-" 

You cut him off by mistake with a sneeze, the cold creeping in deep. It feels like your bones might freeze, grasp around both Baekhyun's hand and the handle of your umbrella tightening, muscles contracting to desperately stay warm. "S-Sorry for interrupting you" You say, teeth clattering and eyes averting. 

"No no don't worry about it!" He insists, "but we should get you home, your hand is cold as ice, Y/N" 

"Ah… you're right" You nod and he flashes you a warm smile. 

"Do you still live in the same apartment or did you move?" Baekhyun asks, back to being concerned about your wellbeing now. 

"I- I still live in the same place" You reply, your free hand holding onto your jacket for warmth, but in vain. 

"That's too far away, my place is way closer" He objects and gently pulls you along, "come on, let's get you freshened up before you really get sick" 

You only manage an awkward nod and let him lead you along, a surprisingly pleasant silence engulfing you two. 

—

Baekhyun unlocks the door to his apartment and firstly puts both of your umbrellas away, taking off his wet shoes in the process and you follow along. 

"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom" He says and you tag after him. 

He opens the door, turns on the light and quickly pulls out two towels for you. "You can just use my shampoo, I don't have anything suitable here for you, sor-" 

"Thank you" you break his rambling. "You wouldn't need to do this, so thank you" 

Baekhyun smiles softly, although his eyes tell a different story. "I'll bring you some clothes in a bit, okay?" 

"Mhm" you nod and give him a curt bow before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You waste no time in stepping out of your soaked clothes and into the shower. 

You set the water to a nice warm temperature and rinse off the cold first, feeling relieved. 

Then there's a knock. "Hey Y/N, I'm putting some clothes on top of the washing machine for you now" he announces before opening the door, doing as he said and then leaving just as quickly as he came. 

"Still the considerate guy he always was…" You mumble with a sad smile, old memories coming back to haunt your mind with sweet images of the two of you. Him always knocking before he'd enter a room you would be in to announce himself. 

You loved that about him, he was always mindful of others and you're happy to see it hasn't changed at all. 

—

You finished quickly and put on the clothes he gave you. Some boxers and a way too big on you, black shirt. You dried your hair as best as you could with the towel he gave you and made sure you don't look like a lion by patting down your hair a bit. 

"Baekhyun?" You timidly call out after opening the door a bit. 

"Yeah?" He replies and you hear his footsteps approach. "What is it?" 

"Uhm- Where to put my wet clothes?" You ask. 

"Oh- Hold on, I'll put them in the washing machine" He says with big eyes and opens the machine for you to put them in. "I'll dry them after they're washed so you can change back, alright?" 

You nod quickly and thank him quietly. He opens the machine and you put your clothes inside, him doing the rest. 

"So, uh-" 

"Do you want some water?" He quickly asks, ears flaring red as he avoids your eyes. 

"Sure" you squeak back and follow him into the kitchen. He gets a glass out of a cupboard and fills it with water before handing it to you. 

You nip at the liquid as Baekhyun leans against the countertop adjacent to you, eyes taking in your figure. 

He missed seeing you in his clothes, you always looked so good in them. He just missed you in general. 

The reason why the two of you broke up a year ago? 

Baekhyun remembers it all too well. 

It was a work related thing actually. The two of you worked in different shifts and barely saw each other, yet alone had time for any couple stuff. 

Free days? Spent alone or arguing about never seeing each other. 

And at one point you had said to just break up. In that moment Baekhyun felt like he was hit by lightning, body stiff and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he heard. Baekhyun felt anxiety cursing through his veins as his brain processed your words.

You had told him that you wouldn't hate him, but that your situation at that time just didn't allow any dating. The two of you never had hard feelings about the outcome, but it was hard to suddenly go back to being alone. 

And now you're here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and smelling just like him. He can't believe this is happening. 

"Uhm, so" You speak up after setting the glass down on the other counter behind you. Your hands come up to grab the surface besides your waist and you avoid the man's eyes. 

"Yes?" Baekhyun can't help the hopeful hint in his voice as he urges you to continue your thoughts. 

"How has life been for you?" 

A chuckle escaped his lips at your question, shoulders jumping up and down in the process before he answered. "It's been rather boring but nice, if you get what I mean? I found a different job and work from home now" 

You nod quietly, "I've also found a new job and my shifts are less hectic" 

"Have you… found someone new?" 

You halt at his inquiry, gears in your mind temporarily stopping and he seems to take the lacking answer the wrong way. A frown pulls at his normally friendly and soft expression, making him look grumpy and bothered. "I see" 

"No, no! I- I haven't found anyone!" You quickly say, "I just… I couldn't move on" 

His expression changes to a sad smile, although he's kind of glad you're still somehow his. "Me neither" 

You scoff lightly, a cheeky smirk suddenly on your face. "No wonder, nobody could put up with your annoying ass anyway" 

"Hey!" He exclaims in shock. 

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" You insist, holding your stomach and laughing. "You're bearable most of the time" 

"That doesn't make it any better!" Baekhyun whines and you laugh out loud, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

"Still the cocky little girl you've always been" He fires back and you snort. 

"Like you're one to talk" You roll your eyes at him and he exhales through his nose. 

His hands grab you by the collar of his shirt you're wearing and unexpectedly pull you into him. You squeal, hands shooting up to brace against his broad chest and you look up to be met by his cocky smile. "You never knew when to stop, no change at all there" he playfully nags. 

"Shut up" You weakly fight back. 

Baekhyun chuckles and you feel the rumble drumming against the palms of your hands. "How come you haven't moved on?" 

You lower your head, hands fumbling with his shirt. "Well… I came to the conclusion that just nobody could replace you. Nobody could love me like you did…" You mumble against his chest and Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up on his face. 

"I felt the same" He whispers back and his arms move to pull you into him more by your waist. 

After hearing that, you look back up at him with big eyes. "Really?" 

He nods and flashes you a bright smile. "Even though we fought a lot and barely had time for each other, I never stopped loving you" 

"Shut up" You almost whimper and move your hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck, lips meeting in the middle. 

Baekhyun's eyes almost fell out of their sockets before he came to his senses. 

One of his hands found its place on the back of your head as he moved his lips against yours with fervor. He greedily breathes you in, not wanting this to end as moves his mouth against yours. 

You shiver when his tongue meets yours and that's when you draw the line… for now. 

He chases after you for a second and you chuckle, dazed eyes meeting yours. "Slow down tiger" you say and peck the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay, okay" He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "will you let me love you again?" 

"You bet" 

[freckledbeom]

Umm 👉👈 jinyoung of got7 angsty fight leading up to make up sex oop - you don't have to of course, anyways take care hope your well x

thank you beloved, im well. sorry for taking a bit long these classes kicking my ass! hope this is what you wanted <33

fight with jinyoung / makeup sex

warnings; 19+ content, suggestive scenes

“so what now?” you questioned, almost scared to hear his response. “or do you do not care? once again.”

jinyoung sucked in a sharp breath. this was already your second quarrel this week over his alleged disregard for your feelings. this time, he stood you up after promising dinner. given his profession, you weren’t hysteric about the act of being stood up, but rather, what was done afterwards.

jinyoung would usually call say when he wouldn’t be able to make it, this time without. as if he wanted to pile things on, he came to your apartment without a word of what happened, not even bothering to apologize.

this struck you hard.

since the day you’d fallen for jinyoung, he never hesitated to put you on a pedastool and treat you with the utmost respect. even in front of the members, his love for you was on display.

but now, it was hard to see yourself come first to him, or even second. you felt like an afterthought.

“i do care. you should know that out of anyone.” jinyoung leaned against the counter, deciding to keep his distance.

“do you really or is that what you want me to hear? i know how this works.” you shot back, swallowing the lump forming in your throat. “if you cared i wouldn’t feel like this.”

jinyoung scrunched his nose. “so what do i do from there? you never let me know how you’re feeling, what could i even do?”

“i don’t know maybe act like you give a fuck for once? you treat me like im annoying, like im a problem.” you retorted, surprised at yourself for swearing at him.

“well if you feel like you’re the problem maybe you are.”

as short as that statement was, it hit you like a block of cement.

“oh?” you step back a lttile. nodding your head, you grabbed your small tote that was neatly packed by the door. “alright then.”

before he could even correct his mistake, you were hauling out of the door letting free with any tears that decided to come down.

two days later

two days felt like a week and you had found the need to pick up a hobby in an effort to clear your mind of jinyoung. you didn’t know for sure that this was a breakup. your friends had already tried to assure you that the separation should have been enough to solidify any lingering thoughts about your relationship status.

but still, you couldn’t wipe him from your brain. how he used to gently rub the back of your head, thumb grazing over your ear when you spoke. how he used to take all of you in his arms when you cried. it felt like a bucket of bricks had been thrown at you when you realized how all of this simply just stopped one day.

tears welling up, you pulled your knees to your lap, cradling them.

you sat in front of an empty canvas on the floor. it was a sorrowful attempt at painting, you’d only gotten a small sketch started. an outstretched hand stared back at you, lacking any color or life.

two knocks at the door.

that was all it took for you to suck up the stray tears that had fell from your eyes.

making your way to the door, you stilled anxious for what was waiting for you behind the door.

"y/n? you're here right?" jinyoung called out from the other side. you felt a heavy knock against the tight door, which you presumed to be his head.

“love, let’s talk.” the desperation in his throat gave life to his words and soon it was enough for you to turn the knob.

opening the door felt heavier than the space you’d given each other and your emotions flooded over until your eyes welled again. plump breast heaving up and down, you sniffed away the salty tears before they took control.

tilting your head, you stared back at the man you’d fallen in love with. although his his hair was slightly disheveled, you could only guess that was from his head hitting the door. jinyoung had looked the same as he did any day, this time a bouquet of sunflowers to show.

what would you say to him? what would he think of you now? your appearance certainly wasn’t the one he had given gentle ‘i love you’s to every night. your button up top was covered in paint, jeans to match; this was definitely not the best time.

“y/n, can i come in?” jinyoung rocked on his heels back and forth while you scanned his physique.

nodding, you turned in the opposite direction motioning him to follow you.

you hastily gathered your painting materials. you could feel jinyoung’s eyes on the back of your head, sharp enough to read your thoughts.

dusting off what remained on your lap, you took a seat far enough from jinyoung to calm your nerves but close enough to read his facial expressions.

“so i assume you came here for a reason other than lounging on my couch?” your eyes dulled a little, waiting for a response.

even though your tone reeked of anger, he chuckled, almost as if he was happy you spoke to him that way. “im here because you’re still my girlfriend. and i-”

“you love me? we haven’t spoken in two days. what would you call that?”

jinyoung parted his lips slightly, giving you a stressed look that you hadn’t seen since early when you had started dating. “i didn’t come here to argue with you, i really wanna talk you. if you want me to leave ill go, but at least listen to me. please.”

he had a a way with words. maybe it was the way he spoke. the way he was just loud enough for you to hear and gentle enough to coax you into forgetting why you were ever mad in the first place.

and while the cold silence gave little room for speech, you could feel yourself growing needier for jinyoung. as if his heat could make the shattered halves of you feel whole again.

it was more than the way he looked at you, only a few inches taller. his perversion over your mind left you wondering if it was the way he’d grab you in moments like this, kissing you ever so softly.

breathing into him, you reached for jinyoung’s face, letting your body crumble into his arms. whereever you could put your arms, you were taking hold of.

walking backwards, your backside met the rigid wall. you let a moan fall into your throat while your tongues glided against eachother.

jinyoung’s hands were big, big enough to keep a hand teasing your waist and a hand guiding your chin. he pressed himself against your middle, earning a small moan in return.

pulling back to breathe, jinyoung took in all of you, examining features he hadn’t seen in what felt like years.

before he could dive back in, you put both palms on his chest.

“not here.” you stifled out, grabbing him and making your way into your bedroom.

jinyoung didn’t delay one bit, shifting his weight on yours, pressed against the mattress. with the way he rubbed himself on you, you were sure that if he kept going you could reach an orgasm just like that.

instead he pulled away, snatching your bottoms off rather hastily. your middle was throbbing, begging for any kind of physical touch.

despite this, you still flinched when jinyoung entered you. he had you on the edge of the bed, teasing you with his member.

slowly, he would push all the way into you, just to back completely out. this was madness, this pace he was at. not a word was spoken between the two of you except for sharp curses and shallow moans.

gripping his arms, you leaned your head back in pure bliss. before you could even look back at him, jinyoung sped his pace up, skin slapping as a mixture to the collection of sounds.

his movements coerced an even deeper moan, curling from the back of your throat.

“feels good baby?” jinyoung questioned. you nodded obidiently, your orgasm creeping close.

sucking in a sharp breath, you bit down on your bottom lip. “jinyoung, baby, im gonna come.”

“come then.”

those two words were enough for you to completely fall apart all over him.

feeling your inner sqeeze around him, jinyoung couldn’t hold out for much longer. with one hand around your throat, he used the other to pull out and paint your torso with his fluid.

your bodies were still hot and shivering when he leaned down to kiss you. this time, neither of you wanted to pull away.

thumbing the semen that lie on your belly, jinyoung stared down at you.

“why cant i let you go?”

[krreader]

can you fix what’s broken?

pairing: jeon jeongguk x reader fandom: bts warnings: no happy ending (kinda)  genre: angst word count: 1k+

summary: there was only so much you could take...

a/n: instead of going full no happy ending, I ended up going for something different this time. But I do hope that you still enjoy it ♥

Jeongguk has been in a bad place lately. Both mentally as well as physically.

He wasn't home a lot and when he was, he wasn't able to relax for even just a minute because it was either him needing to work-out, brush up on his moves for the dance choreo, other meetings that required his presence or writing songs that kept him busy.

Especially that last part was weighing on him.

Songwriting has become a passion for him and because he genuinely loved doing it, it was actually rather easy. But because of the stress he was experiencing lately, no new ideas came up. A writer's block, you could say.

You watched him from the bed as he ripped out yet another page from his songwriting book and threw it on the ground to the last twenty.

With a heavy sigh, you got up from the bed and wrapped your arms around him from behind, kissing the top of his head.

“Come on.. let's take a little break. I could... give you cuddles, or maybe a massage and then I could make you your favorite..-”

“Can you just leave?”

That statement took you by surprise. You straightened your back a little, your arms still loosely around his neck, “Huh?”

“The reason I can't get anything done is because you keep bothering me every five minutes, (Y/N). You finally need to understand that the world doesn't revolve around you and that I can't give you attention 24/7.”

“So it's my fault?” you said with a small snort, equally hurt as taken aback by this.

But before Jeongguk and you could argue any further, his phone rang and he accepted it straight away, walking out of the bedroom for a moment to answer and then walking right back in. You were still standing where you had a minute before, not having moved a muscle.

“I need to leave.”

That's all he said, no “Let's talk about this later” or “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be like that” or even “Please understand me.”

“Leave then,” you replied in a small voice, not moving until he was finally out of the bedroom and then, the apartment.

This wasn't the first time the stress consumed him, but the bigger BTS got, the worse it became. Nowadays, it felt like he was more stressed than relaxed and that weighed heavily on your relationship. Because as much as you wanted to support him, always being blamed like this, like it was your fault that everything was falling apart... you couldn't hold on for much longer.

Maybe... maybe you needed a little break from each other. To see whether or not this relationship still had a chance to survive.

And so after a quick phone discussion with your best friend, you packed up your bags with everything you would need to stay at hers for a while and left without a note or a text.

Jeongguk had no idea what transpired at home while he was gone, too busy sweating his ass off for this new dance.

But the longer he was away from you and the more time he had to think about what had happened, the worse he felt about it.

“Kook, you're staying for the meeting later, right?” Namjoon furrowed his eyebrows as Jeongguk shouldered his bag after the practice and headed for the door.

“Could you.. do this one without me? I have to.. well, I've got something I need to take care of.”

He hadn't told any of them what had happened earlier, but then again, he rarely talked about you these days anymore. Some of them had wondered whether Jeongguk might be losing feelings for you, but the real reason was that he was simply embarrassed. Because he knew that – despite blaming you – you weren't at fault.

It was him and his career that was slowly but surely ruining this relationship.

And that wasn't something he wanted to tell his hyungs.

“Okay,” they nodded, wanted to give him the time and space to do whatever it was that he clearly needed to do.

And so after a quick stop at the flower shop, Jeongguk entered the apartment in hopes of you not being too mad at him and letting him explain.

But there was no angry you, or crying you... there was no you, period.

After having looked in every room, he pulled out his phone and called you.

And because you didn't want to disappear without another word, you answered.

“You're home, I take it.”

“I am. You're not. Where are you?”

He heard a door close on the other line, your voice dropping to a whisper, “I'm at (Y/B/F)'s house. I'll.. be staying there for a while.”

“What?” he asked in a high-pitched voice, “For how long? And.. why?”

You let out a heavy sigh, brushing your free hand over your face, “We can't go on like this, Jeongguk. You blaming me every time you're stressed or pissed. I want to support you and be there for you, but when you call me clingy and worse things every time I do..-”

“I didn't mean it like that, you know that.”

“Do I know that? After you've called me that at least 5 times now?” you walked over to the window, “Sometimes... relationships just become toxic, Jeongguk. And I fear that that's what happened to ours.”

He knew it. He knew he should have been more careful. So often did he hold you in his arms and think: “If you keep this up, she's going to leave. She won't take this forever and she shouldn't have to. You're at fault for hurting her again and again.”

And now it happened.

When he didn't reply, a sad smile spread on your face.

“I don't want to give up on us just like that, not after so many years. But I think we need a break. So just... give me some space, okay?”

The fact that you gave him that chance meant so much to him, “Is there... anything else I can do? Please, anything..”

“Think about priorities again, maybe. Your actions... and how to fix our relationship. Just show me that you still care... once I'm ready.”

Jeongguk sat down on the edge of the bed, your side of it, his hand fisting in the sheets that would have been over your body if he hadn't messed up again.

“I will. I promise, I will.”

Whatever it would take to fix this, he would.

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 8 ~Light vs Dark~

Previously in All in a Day's Work ...

A voice raced through her consciousness, telling her this was the way forward. She knew he needed his control back before he would be able to speak to her. So she got down on her knees and pulled his pants down. 

When he wrapped her hair in his fist and tilted her head back, she smiled. "Now, let's get dirty and exorcise those pesky brain chatter, shall we?" Before he could reply, she took him full in her mouth and worshipped him with her love, absorbing every frustrated growl that ripped from his throat and every emotion that poured out of him with every roll of his hips. 

She pushed him to the edge and over until he found his release, and his loud cries echoed in the air. When he shattered around her, his body slumped onto the floor and into her arms.

Claire knew they had a long night ahead of them, so she cradled him, waiting patiently for his breathing to calm. Later after she bathed him, they would talk, but for now, she was contented just to hold him a little while longer, as she wondered how many of Jamie's demons she would have to slay tonight and if love would be enough to conquer his hell.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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 Jamie reached over to the other side of the bed and stilled when all he grabbed was air. His eyes instantly flew open, and he wondered why he was in bed. He jackknifed into a sitting position, his muscles tensing against the sudden alarm that spiked through his nerves, but when he saw the sliver of light under the door and heard Claire's movement in the bathroom, he eased back onto the mattress with a sigh. 

Memories from earlier suddenly came rushing back to him. He'd arrived home, reeling with the need to expend energy, but not in the healthiest of ways. He'd ran from work after Willie had sent him home, and when he'd arrived to find Claire in the kitchen, the rush of adrenaline had buzzed through him like mad. Though he'd made up with his sister after their confrontation, the run to the cottage hadn't relieved the buildup of anxiety and guilt, but one thing had been clear throughout ...the need to see Claire had been paramount. She'd sensed something was off, but he hadn't anticipated her reading what he'd needed at that moment when he'd himself had no words for the volatile sensation raging within him. Ever since she'd arrived in his life, she'd been unintentionally rearranging everything, and all the painstaking layers he'd patched together over his broken parts were slowly being stripped away, little by little, to reveal what he'd buried underneath. 

Earlier, she'd ripped another layer off when she'd offered her body for his own release. Despite rebelling against it, his body had a mind of its own, taking his fill like a starved man and pacifying the storm within. It had troubled him to see her pleasuring him on her knees and not had been able to reciprocate back, but she'd soothed him with words and her hands. He recalled the shame and fear that had shot through his bloodstream when he thought he'd hurt her with his rough play, but the moment she'd touched him, he'd lost track of everything, the mind-bending pleasure obscuring all reasons, making him feel depleted and whole at the same time. After she'd bathed him as if he was a bairn, she'd towelled his body dry and massaged his back until his limbs had gone pliant and heavy. And just before he'd dozed off, she'd whispered into his ears, "Rest now, my love and later we'll talk." He couldn't argue, even if he'd wanted to. Because, in her, he found his equilibrium, and his skeletons didn't rattle as much whenever she was around. 

He'd just switched on the bedside lamp when the bathroom door opened, and Claire walked in wearing his bathrobe, the sheer size of it almost drowning her small frame. He couldn't help the smile forming his lips. It looked ridiculously too big on her but at the same time too adorable for words. He pushed himself up and patted the space next to him.

Watching her climbed the bed and crawl on all fours, he extended his arm out in an invitation to nestle against him. "How long was I out?" he asked. 

"An hour tops," she replied, kissing him on the lips. Instead of huddling into his arms, she sat cross-legged, facing him, a touch of worry dimming her eyes. "You were knocked out."

"Really? Only an hour? I had no intention of falling asleep. I must have been tired. I feel like I've slept the whole night." Feeling slightly disappointed he couldn't put his arms around her, he took her hand instead and twined their fingers together. 

"Willie dropped off your car, and I have your keys here," she said, pulling them from the pocket of the bathrobe and placing them on the mattress. "How are you feeling?

"Relaxed."

"That's good," she whispered, squeezing his hand.

His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist. "What ye did earlier ..." He felt a stirring in his loins when he remembered her mouth around him. "I would like to verra much do the same for ye if ye'd allow me."

"Jamie ..." she sighed, giving him a small warning look.

He shrugged, his mischievous smile telling her, Oh well! I tried. They eyed each other for a few heartbeats, a silent understanding passing between them. Jamie knew she was patiently waiting for him to initiate the talk. There was no way around it. Not even sex was going to get in the way. It had been a long time coming, and he owed her some explanations. "So ye want to talk ..."

"Would you like to have your dinner first? You haven't eaten yet."

"No, I'm good."

"Good. Let me know if you need anything."

"Aye ..." He moved into a more comfortable position. "Let's get this done and over with."

She gave him an encouraging nod. "Take your time. Whenever you're ready."

"Just a wee warning, Sassenach." He winked at her when he noticed her frown. "If this starts to feel like a therapist appointment, bear in mind I've noted all the available exits," he joked to lighten the mood.

It worked. The corner of her lips twitched. "I'll try my utmost best to keep that in mind."

He settled against the headboard and took a couple of cleansing breaths. It cleared his head a wee bit, allowing him to formulate the right words. Words that wouldn't sound like he was losing his mind. "Guilt," he began. "I told ye already before ...I have a bad case of it." His throat closed up. "It's what keeps me awake most nights, replaying all those things I didnae do right. As most insomniacs would know, nothing solves sleeplessness like a nice warm glass of despair and regret."

A flicker of worry flashed across her face. "Jamie, you told me you were feeling better." She scooted closer to him. "Have you been keeping the truth from me? Because if you are, it's not helping matters."

"No, Sassenach." He shooked his head. "I was telling ye the truth. I was feeling better, but there have been many strange things happening in the past that's just coming to light. The more I try to piece things together, the weirder it gets." He massaged his temple with his fingers. "Christ! Where do I begin?"

"Alright, one thing at a time." She paused, and he saw the cogs behind her eyes, turning. She appeared to be contemplating the best way to make it easy for him. "Did something happened at work earlier?" she asked.

He sighed. "Aye. I blew my top at work. It's unlike me to lose my head like that, especially in front of the other workers. It's kind of frightening when your emotions are beyond your control."

"Did it have anything to do with your episodes?"

"Probably. I'm not sure anymore."

"When you came home earlier, you really looked stressed, Jamie."

He stared at her and thought of the events that day. Ah, shite! Why is this so fucking difficult? They're only in the early phases of their relationship, and already she's tangled up in his web of messed-up issues. Surely this wasn't what she'd bargained for when she decided to take a chance on him? She only had a few days before she returned back to London, but here they were, it's early evening, cooped up in his bedroom trying to sort out his fucked-up head when they could be out on romantic dates. No one, except for his family, had really seen the true depths of his issues, and he'd coped fine for a long time without talking about it. Man up, Fraser - get to the bottom of it! Think of Harry! 

"My sister and I had a fight," he finally said. "But I dinnae think the fight triggered anything. Or maybe a little. Ye see, it's no' the first time we've had a squabble like that. I think the beginning of the episode has more to do with something that has been building up for the last few days. Odd dreams, memories coming to the surface and such. And the sibling bicker was the last straw."

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Has this something to do with your dream the other night? You told me you had a strange dream and you had trouble sleeping."

His heart lurched as he recalled the dream. "Aye. But it goes way before that. Partly, it has something to do with that ..." He hesitated for a moment. "...and with ye."

"With me?" She visibly braced herself, a worried frown appearing on her brows. "Jamie ...if you're concerned about me not being able to cope with your condition and leaving you, you thought wrong. I care for you, and I want to help. But I can't help you if I don't understand what's going on. Whatever you're going through, we'll face it together."

He felt encouraged by the hopeful look she gave him. "But ye dinnae ken half of it."

"No, I don't," she agreed. "But we'll get through it together. Painful as it is to talk about what's hurting you, suppressing it will only make it worse, and there's a danger you could lose yourself and forget the person you are and all the good you have done in the process. If you're waiting for time to erase all those emotional pain, it's not going to happen, Jamie. I know this because I carry a lot of pain, too, and time has done nought to erase it. You just have to acknowledge it and learn to let it go." 

His heart pounded. "This can open up all sorts of hurt, Sassenach ...for ye."

She studied him closely. "Why are you so worried about me getting hurt, Jamie? Ye're the one suffering from this condition."

His gaze lifted to meet hers, and a throbbing began underneath his collarbone. He wondered how much he could reveal about her parents' death without him disintegrating in front of her and scaring her away for good. This is the part where the room would normally close in on him, and then he would start to fidget and eventually clamp up. An uncomfortable pressure stretched against his rib cage, making it difficult to suck in a breath. They were already at the point of no return. But Claire's eyes instantly grounded him, turning the chaos in his head from a bright, blazing red to a cool, soothing blue. 

He swallowed his mounting anxiety, focusing on healing what had been damaged inside of him. "Before anything else, Sassenach ...what do ye remember about yer parents' death?"

"Wot?" Her voice sounded throaty. "Why is it relevant?"

He loathed the sudden uncertainty sneaking into her expression. He wished he could go back and take back the words. "I'm sorry, but it's pertinent that I know."

She let go of his hand and rubbed her palms repeatedly along her thighs. "I -I was with my parents when the accident happened. I never told you this part before."

The image of young Claire trapped at the back seat of the car flared to life. His head fell forward with a groan, and when she touched his shoulder, he waved a hand and motioned for her to go on.

"I don't remember much except for the feeling of being very frightened and wanting to be with my mother. After that, everything was a blur."

"Have ye ever talked to your uncle about it?" 

"Sort of," she said, scrunching up her shoulders. "When I was old enough to understand. But never in-depth." She stopped and eyed him suspiciously. "Jamie, what's with the questions about my parents? Are you trying to change the direction of this conversation?"

"No! No' at all!" He shifted position and squeezed his eyes shut for a beat. When he opened them again, he puffed out a breath. "Your parents ...the car ...I was there when it happened." She looked bewildered, but he didn't stop. "I was on my way to see my godfather. I-I was ten. And I had this ..."

"What do you mean you were there?"

Oh, God, give me strength. "I saw yer parents' accident," he said rapidly. She gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth. Shaking his head, he continued. "I ...I always thought my condition began right after my best mate died in the war zone. But it was way before that. I saw something that a child should never have to see, but I did. I would have told ye all these sooner if I had known. The dream ...I had the other night brought back all those horrific memories. Christ, Sassenach ..." He dropped his head into his hands. "I wish there's an easier way to say this. I'm so sorry for bringing this up, and I just cannae ..."

"Jamie ..." 

Then the dam shattered, and everything came pouring out of him. He told her how Harry had first appeared into his life, coming to his aid in Glasgow when he'd fallen down onto his knees while going through an episode. And the mysterious ways the older man would pop up whenever he was in dire need of help. He spoke of his suspicions of what or who he'd thought Harry might have been after his family had questioned his friend's identity over New Year's Eve lunch at Lallybroch. And how his theory had been further validated the moment Murtagh had mentioned having known Claire's parents. Then his voice faltered when he told her what his godfather had told him the other day, about him being witness to her parents' accident as a young boy. And how seeing uncle Lamb's similarity to Harry had triggered the dream and brought back all the suppressed memories. He told her how he'd held her that fateful day and how the memories of that event changed him forever, vowing to himself nothing like that would ever happen again under his watch.

By the time Jamie finished, he felt weightless. Like he'd been lugging around sandbags on his shoulders all his life, and they'd just been ripped open, dumping their contents onto the ground.

When he finally glanced up, Claire was immobile, staring at the wall behind him. The unfocused expression he'd seen the other night when he'd asked about her parents was back, only this time she appeared more thoughtful.

"Sassenach?"

Her gaze cut to his. "So you knew my dad."

"I did." She must have sensed his sincerity because she closed her eyes and her lips quivered a bit as if she's trying her hardest to keep her emotions in check. Christ, he wanted to drag her away from all the pain he'd just brought up. He didn't like seeing her like this. He'd told her more than he'd been prepared to, and they should call it a wrap for now. But he needed to know if there were any mental scars she'd been nursing and if so, he wondered if he'd made it worse. If he did, he'd never forgive himself. "Sassenach, please tell me ye're alright."

Her gaze lifted to meet his, and she hugged herself close. "I think so," she whispered. "Just give me a few minutes to let it all sink in, alright? Don't give up on me just yet." They simultaneously took a deep breath, making her smile at the realisation. He resisted the urge to pull her onto his lap and focused on what she had to say. He'd already said his bit, and now it was her turn. So he listened. "That moment at the pub, when I first laid eyes on you, I had this strong feeling we've always known each other. I even said to myself, maybe we did ...in another lifetime. All this while we had no idea we were both connected through my dad."

"Aye, I felt the same way, Sassenach, and I put it down simply to a strong attraction between us. I even thought it would pass, but the more I got to know ye, the more I wanted more of ye. It frightened the hell of me, firstly because of where ye live. I didnae think our relationship could work with my condition. And secondly, because I didnae want my burden to be yer burden. It would kill me if ye had to go through what I've been going through almost all my life."

She seemed transfixed as she made a move towards him, reminding him of the way she'd looked just before they're about to make love. Pressure rolled off him the moment she straddled his lap, leaving him almost light-headed when she tenderly placed a hand against the side of his face. "Do you realise what an extraordinary man you are?" She tunnelled her fingers through his hair, making his eyelids fall to half-mast. "You see, Jamie ...only good men feel the load of their burdens. And exceptional ones like you persist on taking more. Because of you, I want to be a better person and take some of your burdens. The same way you've carried the burden of my parents' death all this while." She laid her head into the crook of his shoulder, snuggling into his neck in a way that somehow mended a broken part of him. "Growing up without them has been hard, and it still pains me a lot when I think of what could have been. But I realise now, sometimes death has a heart, and we can't beat ourselves up for recognising it." A few heartbeats passed before she met his gaze. "Out of tragedy, we found each other, and that means their death must count for something, don't you think?"

The simplicity of her words, her acceptance of their past, the vulnerable girl he saw underneath the confident woman she was today reached every damaged corner of his being. There was no choice but to press their bodies together.

He pulled her closer and gently combed his fingers through her curls as he brushed his lips against hers. His thumb caressed her cheek before cupping it in his hand. When she smiled, his fingers tugged her chin to bring her mouth back to his. The kiss deepened, his fingers fumbling with the ties of the bathrobe she's wearing before pushing it down over her shoulders. Fluidly, never breaking contact, his lips travelled down her throat, her back arching to offer her breast. He was about to take a nipple to his mouth when he noticed a band of bruise circling her arm. He jerked back and realised there was an identical one on her other arm.

A sick feeling settling in his gut, he touched one of the bruises with his index finger. "What's this?" he asked, even though deep inside, he knew the answer already.

She rubbed it with a hand as if it was nothing. "Jamie, don't worry about it. I have pale skin, and I bruise like a peach."

He ground his teeth and shook his head. "I did this earlier, didn't I? When I came home from work, right after the fight with Jenny."

When she flinched, he felt like a bucket of ice-cold water had been thrown over him. He lifted her off his lap and got out of bed, and went to stand by the window.

"Jamie, it was nothing. We were playing rough, and these things happen."

He could feel the darkness coming back again, trying to shroud him. He needed to concentrate on his breathing. When a woman like Claire loved with such fierceness, surely that love should have enough light to push the dark away. But he was coming down hard and fast, and the sick feeling in his guts was trying to make its way up, making him want to gag.

He heard her approach, and he steeled himself when she wrapped her arms around his middle and laid her head on the centre of his back. "Jamie, you didn't hurt me. You have to believe me."

How could he want Claire's love and feel the unshakable compulsion to run away at the same time? Her arms were circled around him so tight, he thought she might be trying to join them together as one. A huge part of him wanted them joined together, but the darker side of him was scared to death. He'd allowed her to soothe him with every word, every touch. But now it was high time to get rid of the blinders. His chest hurt, and every fear he'd succeeded to overcome throughout the last few days poured down on his head.

Claire shouldn't want the man he'd become, who had a tendency to inflict pain and bruises on her skin when under the influence of his episodes even if it wasn't intended. He thought of Jenny earlier and the frightened look on her face, his fists curled, ready to cause injury. This relationship with Claire would be over as soon as she realised she'd saddled herself with a sick man with the potential to be violent, and he knew he wouldn't be able to bear it when that day came. It was up to him to make sure she didn't make this mistake because she deserved more, and he loved her too much to allow her to be blinded by their love. He didn't want her to make that error. 

"Claire ...I need to go."

Claire turned him to face her, weariness dimming her normally bright amber eyes. He'd done this to her, snuffed out the light in her. But she was so beautiful, her curls, wrecked and wild, mouth puffy from their kisses. "I'm not letting you go, Jamie. We're in this together. You have to believe me when I say you didn't hurt me and that you are a good man. You don't have it in you to hurt anyone."

Her words were hot irons branding his insides. "Dinnae say those things in the heat of the moment. Ye're too good of a person to realise when something bad is standing right under yer nose."

"You're not making any sense Jamie. Come back to bed, please ...and we'll talk it over." She was close to tears, and it was breaking his heart to see her like this. "I meant it when I said I love you and nothing ...not even this condition that you have will drive me away from you."

Jamie exhaled a sharp breath. "I need to clear my head." He walked away from her and grabbed the jeans, hanging neatly over the chair.

"I know what you're trying to do, Jamie. I can see right through you. You want to leave me because you think you're a danger to me. You're wrong." She tugged his arm and attempted to pull him towards her, but he remained still, looking anywhere but into her eyes. She grasped his face with both her hands, forcing him to look at her. "Look at me! I want you to know I'm not afraid of a fight. Just tell me what I'm up against so I can knock it down for you."

It took a lot of willpower to remain upright and resist the urge to voice out his fears. He knew she would be able to defeat his doubts, but for how long? Those fears would grow back even bigger and more persistent once time had passed and the outside world began to encroach on them. "Let me go, Sassenach."

"Never, Jamie. You said on the day before I left for London we were in this together, you and I. I'm holding my side of the bargain, and I will not let you go. So you better get used to that." 

He turned away and started to scramble for the rest of his clothes. When he finished pulling up his jeans and putting on his t-shirt and shoes, it took him what seemed like an eternity to face her. Her face was ashen as she drew the bathrobe around her. "I'm done talking, for now, Claire."

Tears streamed down her face as he grabbed his phone and keys and made his way out. He couldn't get out of the cottage fast enough. His heart hammered, his ears started to ring, his lungs squeezing out the last air. He'd hurt her. He'd seen the bruises with his eyes, and now she's crying because of him. He needed to get out fast to clear his head.

She followed him closely behind. "Please tell me where you're going, Jamie. At least give me that," she pleaded.

He couldn't stand to see her tears anymore or hear the plea in her voice. He was doing what's right for her because he loved her too much. He wasn't even sure where he was going or if anyone would be safe in his presence. All he could think of was how frightened his sister had looked at him and the bruises he'd inflicted in Claire's arms. He needed to get as far away as possible, away from the people he loved.

He got into his car, slammed the door, and started the engine. 

Claire banged on his window, her face wet with tears. "Don't do this, Jamie. We can fix this together. Please don't go. I'm begging you." 

"I love you, Sassenach. I love you so much," he mumbled under his breath as he jerked his car into gear, reversing from his driveaway. The wheels spun and screeched as he pulled away, his body shaking and his heart shattering into tiny pieces. 

Claire's safe now, he reassured himself, gripping the steering wheel tight, safe and far from the stifling darkness closing in.  

..........

Claire watched Jamie's car disappear into the darkness. She wanted to scream and crumple to the ground out of sheer despair and fear. But she realised her presence of mind was needed at this moment. She needed to call someone and alert them to what happened. Jamie could be in danger. Willie!

She ran back to the house and grabbed her phone. With shaking fingers, she wiped the tears from her eyes and tapped on the screen. She'd just managed to find Willie's name when her phone rang. She saw it was her uncle Lamb. Oh God now's not the time. Though frustrated, she answered. "Hello?"

The line crackled before uncle Lamb spoke. "Sweetheart, it's me. I hope the Scottish weather is holding up because I'm on my way for a visit. We had another setback at work, and I didn't want to hang around, scratching my arse doing nothing. I'll be arriving in four days. I hope you'll still be there; otherwise, I'll change my flight ticket to London."

Not wanting to alert her uncle with her worries about Jamie, she cleared her throat and tried to sound cheerful. "That's great! I'll be here, and I can't wait to see you! But I really need to run along. So many things going on." It wasn't a lie, but she would call him back once she'd sorted out this mess she was dealing with. "I'll call you later."

"That's fine, darling. I can't wait to meet, Jamie ..."

Oh, dear, God, please help me.

  Dear Readers,

Firstly, I'm sorry if this took slightly longer to update. My excuse: my computer has gone funny on me. I need to buy a new PC, and I've been busy looking on the net for one, hence the delay of this update.

Moving along, I'm asking you to please bear with me with this chapter. I understand it's a bit heavy and slightly dark, but it had to be done because it is necessary if the story is to gel together. Despite the heavy undertone of this latest update, I hope you've enjoyed it, and you get what I'm trying to put across. On a much brighter note, thank you so much for your feedback from the previous chapter. I love it when I read your thoughts about a scene or plot. They are so appreciated, and I'm already looking forward to what you think of this latest instalment. Meanwhile, wishing you a great start to the week. Take care of yourself always and be safe. Much love.X

[poptod]

A Taste of What You Paid For (Rogerina x Reader)

Description: Quiet doesn’t mean submissive and smart doesn’t mean inept outside school.

Notes: here’s one of the fics i never published on liz taylor cause it was a one shot! there’s a bit of a frisky scene at the end but its fine everything is fine. gender neutral WC: 1.7k

+

"I told you, we don't need a damn petsitter!"

"Watch your mouth, young lady," her mother chided harshly, her words curt on a silver tongue.

You watched on with an inner sense of looming despair, one that always popped up in your head whenever people fought in front of you. Especially when it came to family.

The Taylor family was popular simply on the reputation of their youngest daughter, Elizabeth. She was one of those girls who was insanely pretty and knew it perfectly well, using it to her advantage in every situation she could. You couldn't blame her––if you were pretty like that, you'd probably use it that way too.

That being said, your very faint school-connection to Liz in no way aided you in understanding her mother, who had employed you for the weekend. Apparently she and her husband had some sort of trip to make into London, and coming back home to sleep was more expensive than simply paying someone to take care of their cat and bird. For some reason they didn't trust Liz with that job, and you didn't care to ask why, considering the two of them were still arguing with one another.

You pursed your lips as you continued to watch with wide eyes. How long was this going to continue?

"And you had to get them?!" Liz yelled, gesturing rather violently in your direction. You flinched back instinctively.

"What's wrong with (Y/N)? Are they some sort of kleptomaniac or something? Your teachers certainly seem to like them, much more than they like you at least," her mother bit back.

Ouch. That was low. You just had good grades. It had nothing to do with behavior.

"Um, Mrs. Taylor? I have to get home soon," you interrupted quietly, ever hesitant to speak up. Both women turned to you as though in sudden realization you were still standing there.

"Of course, dear. I'm sorry.. um, you can come by Friday afternoon, and after that just once or twice a day," she said, pausing before she rooted through her purse, pulling out her wallet. From that she handed you a couple pounds, to which you thanked her and bowed your head slightly.

"Thank you. I'll, um, see you later then," you said, waving a shy good-bye to both of them before bolting out the door.

What a fucking disaster, you thought to yourself bitterly, your face screwed into a frown. Instantly the chill of fall hit you, the disappearance of the sun marking a time where your hands were best kept huddled in your pockets. The backpack on your shoulders was the only real sense of insulation you had.

Your home was a decent walk away, enough that you probably should've found a bus or cab, but the only money in your pocket was preemptive payment for petsitting you hadn't yet done. Besides, most of the busses were stocked full with workers heading home.

By the time you reached home your boot-clad feet were aching, the hard soles in your heels throbbing. Fortunately enough it was a feeling you were used to, and sleep was not hard to find when you collapsed in bed after the long day.

Pepper, the Taylor's white cat, was a friendly fellow who enjoyed a good drink. From your glass. And only your glass. No matter how you filled up his water bowl or set out glasses for him to drink from, he always returned to the one you had taken a sip out of. Eventually you kept your glass in hand, keeping it there even as you filled his bowl with food, a single kitchen lamp lighting your work.

Traditionally, your Friday nights were spent getting lost in the woods, but every now and then you needed to make some extra cash. That was precisely the reason you took up this little job here––not because you wanted to see Liz.

Not because she was really nice to look at and had a rose perfume.

No.

The creaking and slamming of a door startled you from pouring wet food into the tin bowl, making a drop of the juice land on the counter. You winced internally at the fishy smell that invaded your senses.

"The fuck – oh. You," she said from behind you. You turned to her, noting with interest the way she leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen.

"Evening," you said with a small wave.

"How's – how's the cat," she asked, a slight slur taking over her tongue as she stumbled towards you. The closer she got the more you could smell her––the perfume, the shampoo, the alcohol reeking off her mouth and clothes.

"He'll be coming along soon," you said, knowing that once he smelled the food he'd come running.

"Mm. How long have you been here?"

"In your house?"

"Mhm,” she nodded.

"Got here just a bit ago. Had to refill your cat fountain," you said. They had bought a special, indoor fountain for their cat, since he had trouble drinking. Obviously.

"My mother," Liz grumbled, setting her elbows on the counter as her shoulders went up to her ears. Blonde locks curled around her cheeks, accentuating the soft blush beneath her skin. "She thinks I can't take care of anything beside myself. That is not true."

You can't take care of yourself, either, was the first thing to come to mind, but instead you said, "why does she think that?"

"I drink too much for her liking," Liz said, sighing as she dropped her head to rest on the cool, marble countertop.

"That's alright," you said, ever so slightly distracted by finding the recycling, "I smoke too much for my mother's liking."

Liz giggled, the high melody filling the mostly-silent room. You couldn't help but grin yourself, though you turned away so she couldn't see, embarrassed of your own delight.

The moment you set the food bowl back in its' spot, Pepper came tumbling down the stairs, his puffy tail a straight line behind him.

"How long are you going to stay here?" Liz asked, almost whined, as she drunkenly spun herself around to lean her back against the counter, hooded eyes following you intently.

"A little bit longer. I have to clean your birdcage," you said as you left Pepper to find the bird. You glanced around the corner, into the living and dining rooms. "And, um... where is that? Exactly?"

"Up in my room," she said, "since Pepper won't leave her alone."

"Oh," you said softly as images ran rampant through your head.

You weren't particularly infatuated with Liz, but seeing her room would certainly be interesting, considering the amount of things you'd heard about her. Either way it would be you and her alone in a much smaller room.

For ease you pulled the trash can up the stairs with you, lugging it into her room to dispose of the birdcage floor. She led the way for you, though offered no help, not that you expected her to. While you fiddled with the cage lock, she sat on her bed with feet on the floor, one leg atop the other as she watched you in interest.

Her eyes on your neck proved to be a strong source of stress for you. How delightful––blushing from just a gaze. Liz, in her drunken stupor, didn't seem to realize just how giddy that made you.

A few minutes later you were setting out new hay and newspaper for the floor of the cage, a slight smile occurring to you whenever the bird chirped. You had yet to know the name, but she seemed nice. Her black feathers were a stark difference to Pepper's white coat.

"(Y/N)?" You heard from behind you, her voice soft and high, lulling you away from the task at hand.

"Yes?"

"Could you come here?"

You paused, taking a moment to process her request. After a moment you brushed your hands off, stepping away from the cage to approach her. As before, she was sitting on her bed with her feet in front of her, one leg resting atop the other. Long legs in tall, black boots led up to her hips and waist, where small, flared shorts sat with a belt tight around the jean loops. With her puffy button down leading to her small waist, she was an image so hot it casted blushing heat upon your face.

You tried not to let it show.

She beckoned you closer still, and after another moment's thought you obeyed. As you did so she shifted, placing her legs on either side of your standing ones, with her eyes set dead upon yours.

"Do you remember me? From our classes," she asked softly, craning her neck to look up at you.

"Certainly. Literature and anatomy."

"Mmm," she hummed with a smile, nodding. "I love watching you give presentations in English."

"Really?" You chuckled. "Why?"

"You've got a lot of passion," she said, and the tips of her fingers brushed against yours. You froze up at the sensation, but she only continued with, "I like that."

"I just like overanalyzing stories."

"And you're good at it!"

"Well, thank you, but... I'm sure that's not the reason why you asked for my attention," you said, smiling slyly. Her bravado fell as she bit her bottom lip.

"Maybe not," she murmured, and though her drunken cheeks reddened further, she held her eye contact with you.

Before either of you could speak, you leant quickly down and pressed your lips against hers. She inhaled sharply, but did not move, which you took as a sign to gently move, kneeling before her for ease. Despite being wedged between her legs with her thighs squeezing your middle, going further than this kiss didn't occur to you. Instead you remained enraptured with the feel of her moving against you, her hand cradling your jaw as she pulled you nearer, her intoxicating heat circling your head.

She moved to keep you even closer, attempting to use her legs to pull you on top of her. You hummed––though didn't break your kiss––as you tried to force yourself to move away. She was drunk, but you knew if you said anything about it she’d still try to sleep with you anyway.

"No," you said when at last you could manage to part. The abandoned look in her face had your stomach twisting. You kept an even tone as you continued. "I've got to get home. I finished my job, didn't I?"

"Oh, you tease," she hissed as she reclaimed her pride, dragging you in by your tie to kiss you again. You allowed it for a few seconds more, playfully tugging at her clothes before you stood, straightening yourself out.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" You said, as always remembering your upcoming tasks.

"That's what we're paying you for."

"Got it," you said with a wink, slinging yourself out by the doorframe.

[valhallasubstitute]

What is Mine, is Yours

Sihtric x reader

Prompt #13 & #17 - ‘There was only one bed’ and ‘They were right in front of your eyes the whole time.’

You and Sihtric are entrusted with a holy relic while the others sent on a rescue mission. You arrive at the rendezvous point before the others and make camp. As night falls you discover that Sihtric left his pack behind and it’s too cold to sleep without one… with the light of a new day some things become very clear.

A/N: I re wrote this like 8 million times but we got there finally! I found it really hard to write an oblivious reader bc how can you not take notice of Sihtric? How can you not immediately fall deeply in love with him?  Idk if anyone has the answer then let me know

WC: 1207

WARNINGS: none

Tags: @flowers-in-your-hayr

The relic was a leather-bound book - old, worn and valuable to the Church beyond measure. It had belonged to a long dead Saint, whose name escaped you, but the importance of the item had been stressed so strongly that you felt its spiritual weight as you carried it.

A group of Danes had heard of its worth and ransacked a monastery in hopes of an agreeable ransom. They had taken a handful of monks and a bible they had mistaken for the relic. Uhtred had been summoned and while he argued that only one of his men needed to guard it the bishop had insisted that there should be two of you.

Sihtric walked beside you, huffing with annoyance at missing out on another raid.

‘I do not understand why it needs us both.’

‘Do you not enjoy my company Sihtric?’ You nudged him with your shoulder teasingly. The man beside you said nothing, opting to roll his eyes before continuing his rant. The friendship between the two of you was strong, having known each other for many years you understood each other better than anyone. You were family, bound by loyalty and love, just as the others were.

The sun was setting when you finally reached the rendezvous point. It was a small clearing in dense forest, known only to those in your party and the deer that darted at the sight of you.

‘There goes dinner…’

You set up camp quickly, keenly aware of the dropping temperature and ache in your feet. The fire did little to fight the cold, but you were grateful, the glow it cast was warm and gentle, lulling you into a peace that one only found when immersed in the flicker of a flame.

Sihtric sat opposite you, shield at his side and axe in his lap, his eyes coming to rest on you as you kicked off your boots. You sighed at the relief, stretching like a cat does in the sun.

‘I cannot wait to find a river to bathe in and wash away all this mud.’

‘Mmh and the smell.’  Sihtric’s tone was level and his face straight but his eyes danced with amusement, a smile breaking out as your boot flew past his head. It landed just behind him, startling your horse. As he made his way over to calm the mare, he returned the shoe, dropping it in front of you.

You raised your hand to smack his passing form, but he caught it mid-flight. He held your wrist with little force, both of you trying and failing to keep a straight face as he shoved you harshly off the log you sat upon.

Many people mistook you and Sihtric for lovers, your fondness for each other was palpable but you always dismissed the claims with fake disgust and horror. Sometimes you played on it, knowing you worked well together Uhtred often used your relationship to his advantage, playing Sihtric’s wife was something you had done often when sent to spy but it had never encroached on your friendship. Yet why he had never found himself a real wife nagged at you.

Once the horses had been settled you let the fire begin to fade, turning your attention where you would rest your head. Your pack rested next to the shawl covered book and you delighted in the idea of unconsciousness, to let your mind wonder away from the relic without guilt and your body rest from the journey.

As you finished laying out your furs Sihtric called your name, confusion evident in his tone. You made your way to him in the darkness, his silhouette familiar and inviting as you placed your hand on his back in comfort.

‘I cannot find it…’

‘Find what?’

‘My furs.’

‘You were the ones that packed the horses Sihtric, how do you manage to not pack your own bag?’ The man beside you huffed once more, dragging a hand over his face he turned to you.

‘We will have to share.’ You groaned at the inconvenience but there was no weight in your displeasure. You and Sihtric had shared a tent many times, and often when on the road his shoulder was the best place to nap in all of Wessex.

‘I will repay you Y/N.’

‘No need, what is mine, is yours.’ You led him to your furs and his hand squeezed yours briefly in thanks. The two of you settled quickly, drooping eyes and the call of dreams making words seem entirely unnecessary.

You dreamt of long dead saints and Danes and hands grasping one another in far more gratitude than just thanks.

You woke just before dawn, light just beginning to filter through the leaves. You felt warm despite the frost on the ground, breathing in the pillow beneath your head. It was then that you realised that it wasn’t your furs, but Sihtric’s armour clad chest acting as your pillow. His arms were wrapped around you, one resting on your waist and the other laying on top of your own hand that lay on his stomach.  His cheek rested on the top of your head and he nuzzled into it, breathing you in, in his sleep.

The action was gentle and reminded you of how he was with other women that warmed his bed. You would often watch him once he had found someone to share the night with, your initial quiet amusement would fade into an aching curiosity; his actions were so subtle, but his claim was obvious. They way he whispered in their ear, hot breath fanning their neck as his did to yours now. The way he would trail his fingers up and down their arms as they spoke, how he would take a handful of their arse if any other man looked for too long, despite her only being his for the night.

It made you seek out a man of your own.

Now that you lay in his arms you marvelled at how natural it felt, you would be hard pressed to think of somewhere you felt more at home. Rationally you knew you had gravitated together in seek of warmth but the way he held you felt different than just intimacy born of circumstance.

You could feel Sihtric stirring beneath you and your first instinct was to pull away, the realisation of emotion too blatant to hide, but his arms trapped you. You waited with bated breath for him to pull away, to address your tangled bodies with amusement and indifference but the blow never came.

You turned to him, a sheepish smile on your face. Your eyes met and your own expression was mirrored in his gaze, the confusion, the questioning, the happiness. It dawned on you as he studied you with tenderness that if you were never to wake up in his arms again there would be little point in waking up at all.

‘Sihtric…’ Your hand traveled up from his stomach to cup his face, the action was ill practiced and over cautious, but the way he lent into it, with just as much tentativeness settled your nerves.

‘Y/N.’

‘Why have you never taken a wife?’

‘The same reason you have never taken a husband.’

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

A Misplaced Imbalance of Fear

Ao3,   MasterPost

Relationships: Romantic Dukexiety, implied/minor Moceit (platonic or romantic)

From the power of my Art and my Shitposts comes This Fanfiction!!!

Warnings: Panic Attacks, Lots of Cursing, descriptions of gore (horror movies, it gets decently explicit so beware that), mild body horror (Remus is here and he Does Things Like That), Heavy Roman angst for a hot minute in the middle, making out (continuing my theme of remus-centric fics getting more ;3). They do some makeup and drink tea, baby. Mentions of picking one’s skin as an Anxious habit, and also ticking. Also stimming!!! nd sides 4 life bb. Also, a very brief alcohol mention (it’s soup).

Word Count: 6,553

God Fucking Fuck, Virgil was going to have a self-care day even if it killed him dead. Everybody else could do whatever overdramatic fuckery they wanted when they were topside, but he was all set down there in the Mindpalace, thank you very much.

Luckily, mercifully, thankfully, the rest of the sides all seemed keen to let Virgil have his space anyway. There wasn’t a thing stopping him from relaxing.

Well, except for himself, of course.

A thrum of condensed stress and fear tugged at Virgil’s abdomen, bubbling its way over his edges. It was equally his own and the others’, probably due to whatever conversation they were caught up in in the external world. He would not relent to the worry, nor was he summoned to help with the situation, but his body refused to stop shaking. Perched on the top of the couch, frantically clicking the buttons on a fidget cube, Virgil tried to watch the gore playing on the TV in a tired effort to calm his nerves.

Horror movies… helped. They were something for his brain to chew on for a while- their over-the-top and ridiculous plots, the obnoxious characters that almost always deserve what’s coming to them, the attention-attaining action- it was all a recipe for Distraction. But they weren’t working by that point, no matter how badly Virgil wanted them to.

And then- possibly because the universe loved to spite Virgil and Virgil specifically- a walking, talking headache flung himself into the common room about as elegantly as a wolfhound with rabies.

“Heyyyy,” Remus crowed as he sprawled himself out on the couch. Anxiety curled his legs closer under his body, unresponsive- he knew full well that any reaction would just be an invitation for trouble from the obnoxious trait. He’d remember what Logan taught them: don’t engage, just brush it all off.

Unfortunately, Remus seemed to be in a stubborn mood.

“Whatcha watching?” 

“Movie,” Virgil grumbled. 

“What movie?”

He eyed the side laying out on the couch below him, narrowing his gaze as threateningly as he could manage. He spat the words through gritted teeth and made it clear he was not having this today.

“It’s called Terrifier.”

Remus perked up at that, and oh God, if he was interested then he’d never go the fuck away.

“What’s it about?”

There wasn’t much Virgil could do but answer in as clipped a tone as he could; things hadn’t gotten too bad, too uncomfortable, yet. Maybe he could redirect Remus’ attention, if he was just boring and unresponsive enough?

“Just a cliche creepy clown flick. Not much to it.”

“Is it gory?” 

Virgil made a vaguely affirmative sound in his throat, gesturing to the screen. In truth, the movie’s impeccable special effects with gore was its main appeal, as the acting and plot was kinda atrocious. Violence was the exact reason he’d chosen to watch this. But he knew saying that wouldn’t help his chances of shaking off Intrusive Thoughts.

Remus looked ready to spout off something explicit, but he went dead quiet as his eyes fell on the scene on the television. Virgil was grateful for small mercies.

It was exactly the kind of thing that the creative trait would watch, after all; a woman getting sawed in half, lengthwise, starting from the- er, the wrong end. Under circumstances of a more typical anxious flare-up, the scene really could have been one of those ‘helpful distractions’. 

These were not normal circumstances.Yeah, this was one of those ‘too passive’ cases, but Virgil didn’t exactly have the energy for anything ‘active’. So, he stubbornly glared at the TV and pretended that his solution was working, because he had no idea what else to do. Perfect plan.

Preoccupied as he was with his internal issues, he very nearly managed to forget about Remus. Until-

“Holy fuck, this is gorgeous, you watch stuff like this?!” The Duke’s eyes were bright, but not with his usual hysteria. They were wide with genuine excitement, shiny and happy. It was- uncanny, that’s probably the word Virgil was looking for. He curled closer in on himself.

“Shouldn’t be that surprising, dude. ‘Scary’ is kind of my thing.”

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen this one,” the creative side was once again completely enamored by the television screen, “Don’t blood and guts and cool things like that freak you out? They always seem to do the trick when I try to mess with you!” 

“It’s different. The violence in movies, it- it calms me down, I guess. Cause it’s like, I don’t know, detached from reality?”

There was a pause that had Virgil hoping, naively, that Remus had grown bored at his spiel. But he wasn’t moving, he was just staring, gaze switching contemplatively from the screen to Virgil a few times over.

“It doesn’t look like that. If you were any more tense, all your tendons would be snapping like badly-tuned violin strings!” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Virgil pressed his back against the wall and shut his eyes tight. He could still hear- no, feel- Patton and Roman and Thomas arguing, snapping at each other back and forth as the situation escalated.

“Is this about whatever the others are doing? Why don’t you just stop listening to their shitty arguments?”

A harsh laugh escaped Virgil at that, dragging him back down to earth so he could blink his eyes open, glaring at the facet lying beneath him. 

“I can’t just stop, that’s not how I work. I need to keep an ear on them. Who knows what could happen if I didn’t?”

“Well, why don’t you just go talk to them?”

If he wasn’t already frustrated beyond belief, that would’ve fuckin’ done it for him.

“I don’t think I’d be much help. Not right now.”

“Why not?” Remus looked halfway between genuinely curious and mischievous, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better view of Anxiety.

“Seriously? Things aren’t exactly, like- normal between all of us.”

“What is normal?” 

Virgil opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came through. As much as it sounded like an offhanded, edgy 13-year-old atheist kind of remark, it was a decent point. Virgil had thought that there was something of a status quo forming between himself and the ‘light sides’, but how long had that even lasted for? Especially compared to the rest of his life? Everything was changing all the time. Was there anything to rely on, or was it just Virgil’s own wishful thinking for what their lives could be? After all, even in ‘peaceful times’, there had been plenty of in-fighting and disagreements and horrible uncomfortable conversations and harsh words and-

“Oh, shut that brain up,” Remus’ sharp voice pulled Virgil from his thoughts, “I know what you meant ‘normal’. You meant the six months when you got to forget about us Scary Monsters, and, DUH! It was probably way simpler for all you diet-soda-no-sugar sluts back then, but that doesn’t mean it was better.”

“Yeah, you would think that things are better now, wouldn’t you?”

Remus fixed Virgil with an unsettling sort of grimace, making the other squirm. It wasn’t the first time he’d done so by any means. 

“I dunno, but what I do know is that things are getting better. They’ll be the best they could be, soon.”

Despite himself, Virgil laughed. It was a faltering, anxious sound, revealing the true fear behind the taunting gesture.

“Really? With everybody at each other’s throats all the time?”

“While that does sound fun,” Remus sat up fully, twisting around to look directly up at Virgil, “I mean after that. After we’re all accepted. It’s inevitable- Inevitable, Anxious Lil’ Barista,” Remus accompanied the referential nickname with a wink. 

Virgil stared at him like he was crazy (well- like- crazier than usual, he guessed?). Remus just threw his head back and laughed before spinning his neck one-hundred and eighty degrees to face the TV while he explained.

“Point is, it’s painfully obvious that everything will sort itself out. It has to, or else the only other option is that Thomas is gonna drive himself insane by trying to suppress parts of himself and end up clawing his own brain out. One of those two things!”

While colorfully phrased, the certainty with which Remus delivered his point had Virgil taken aback. There was no way that Remus could possibly know that, but- in a backwards way it was comforting, how sure he sounded. He didn’t lie, not ever.

Virgil had never thought that Remus would settle for anything less than going out of his way to make others’ lives a hell. But maybe that antagonism wasn’t what exactly motivated the trait’s actions. Maybe it was just an unintentional side effect, akin to what Logan had said when Remus first revealed himself.

The moment of reprieve was over as soon as it began.

“Fuck! He just cut off her tits and wore ‘em, huh?” 

Virgil looked up and, to be fair, that was exactly what had happened on screen. Like he said, this movie wasn’t exactly poetic cinema, but it certainly was something. 

He scooted along the top of the couch, moving just a few feet before dropping down to sit properly beside Remus.

“3/10 drag look at best, really,” Virgil muttered, mostly to himself. He jumped when Remus shrieked with laughter at it, looking absolutely delighted. 

“I didn’t know you made jokes like that, VeeVee!”

Virgil shrugged noncommittally, focusing on the screen and not the facet beside him. Remus’ giggling was loud and distracting, but it wasn’t… unpleasant, unlike his typical villain-cackle was. 

Once Remus had settled down (as much as somebody like him could, anyway), he, too, focused on watching. The quiet was uncomfortable, but it didn’t stretch on for long. There was always something in the movie that The Duke felt the need to comment upon extensively, elaborating and giving details on the gore. Virgil found himself listening to the rants silently, almost enjoying the disruption. It certainly gave his overactive mind something to play around with.

“-skin doesn’t slice as easy as that, trust me-”

Aaaand there it was. Virgil winced, trying very hard not to show that the words had struck a nerve. He liked horror, gore, all that, sure, but there were just some specific things- squicks, you could call them. Remus would obviously use that to his advantage, so the only option was to try very hard to zone out and not look like he was disturbed.

“But even then- Hey, why are you making that face?”

Mission failed.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Remus shifted closer- invasively closer, his gaze studying. 

“You were calming down earlier, what's with the scrunch-nose?”

Virgil stared at his hands, chipping away his black nail polish. Remus was nearly as good at reading lies as Janus, and twice as hard to get rid of.

“It's just- skin, slicing, that stuff just-” he ticked, head spasming sideways briefly at even the thought of that kind of pain.

“Oh,” Remus said plainly, not even a hint of malice or mischief in his tone as he leaned back into his own spot, “Why didn't you just say so? Well, that last exploding head kill is way more interesting anyway, did you see that?”

That was… it? No taunting, no tormenting, he just changed the topic, like that? 

Remus, continuing to be weirdly perceptive, scoffed as though he was reading Virgil’s mind.

“What? Just because I like screwing with you prudes sometimes doesn't mean I want to give you a panic attack. Where's the fun in that?”

Anxiety nodded mutely, bewildered. Remus seemed appeased by that and quickly resumed his running commentary.

And if Virgil eventually decided to take part in the discussion, well, it wasn’t a big deal anyway. Just some polite conversation about bodily mutilation.

 The television darkened as the screen was washed by credits, filling the space where the disfigured face of the main character had been mere moments prior, the result of a pretty predictable twist ending. Virgil stood, arching his back up in a stretch. His arms raised higher, one joint or another crackling at the motion. Fuck, he was sore. How long had he been sitting still?

Remus hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. He tapped his claws along the remote, exiting to the homescreen and looking expectantly at Virgil.

“You don't wanna watch anything else?” He asked abruptly, drawing a confused glance from his companion, “This is fun- and they're still arguing up there, so it kinda makes sense to stay, it’s really the best solution if you-”

Virgil huffed a laugh at the rambling. It sounded like some shit he’d say, for crying out loud.

“Dude, chill, I was just gonna make some tea before putting on another movie,” the clear relief that ran across Remus' face- quickly replaced by a wide grin- wasn't anything shy of… sweet. Virgil was sure this day couldn't get any fucking weirder, if he was finding anything endearing about the walking talking dirty joke before him. “Uh, you want anything? Since you're gonna stick around, and all.”

Remus jumped up, following Virgil into the MindPalace’s small kitchen happily. In one smooth motion, he swung up onto the counter and slid down it, seating himself almost on top of the stove.

“No hot leaf soup for me, thanks, but I will take one of those mugs!”

Virgil raised a brow, staring the creative trait down before shrugging. He passed him one of the mugs, a generic and patternless one- so that the other sides probably wouldn't notice its absence. He busied himself by setting up the kettle, trying not to wince at the loud wet crunch that resulted when Remus took a bite of his snack.

“Hey,” Remus said around a mouthful of ceramic chunks, “I know just the movie we should watch next.”

Virgil shifted around the various tea boxes littering the cabinets, searching for something with a kick. He hazarded a glance to Remus, immediately regretting the decision when he saw the blood dribbling down his chin from the cuts marring his lips. Anxiety cringed, turning his head back and grabbing for the first brightly-colored box he saw. It took him a moment to respond.

“Okay… what is it?” 

“It's awful- I mean, really, the acting is unbearable and it’s fucking insane- but it's funny. You like making fun of stuff, right? It's like that, but there's still a ton of agonizing death, which is always a fun bonus.”

“What's it about?” Virgil was hesitantly intrigued, his gaze flicking up from the steadily heating kettle. He wasn't exactly keen on staring down the gory scene of Remus’ mouth, so he settled his focus on the trait’s eyeball brooch. 

“Uhn-uhn! No spoilers, this is one you have to see for yourself. It's funnier that way.”

Virgil made a noncommittal sound, tapping his nails against the counters.

“Nothing too bad happens- not that you can't handle, anyway. No slicing and not many jumpscares.”

He resisted the urge to snap 'how do you know what I can’t handle?' because Remus actively trying to reassure him was. Something. Something that he appreciated, maybe, a little.

“Okay, fine. I didn't have anything else in mind. A ‘So-Bad-It’s-Good’ thing sounds alright.”

The obnoxious gnawing of Remus destroying what was left of his cup suddenly ceased, replaced by a stunned silence. Virgil finally met his eyes (finding that the lacerations around Remus’ mouth were already healing themselves, as if they'd never existed).

“You’re taking my suggestion?”

Virgil cleared his throat, finding himself unable to break the intense eye-contact now that it had been established.

“It's not a big deal or anything, man. Just a movie.” 

Remus nodded enthusiastically, a grin splitting his face ear-to-ear. Very literally. The expression was so unnatural and cartoonish on a human(ish) face, that Virgil couldn't help but be startled into laughter. Remus looked even more delighted at that reaction, leaning forward over the stove. At that point, Virgil very much couldn't suppress the noises, snorts bubbling up from his throat against his will.

“You look-” another bout of chuckling, “-you look ridiculous, Remus.”

“Aw, thank you! I was going for manic, but I'll settle for that, too.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, hunching in on himself to get his breathing back to normal. 

With no warning, Remus lifted himself up onto his knees and craned his body around the vigilant trait, snatching the kettle from the stove and flipping the dial to ‘off’. Instinctively, Anxiety recoiled from the proximity. The tension fell away when he saw that the other was simply pouring the hot water into Virgil’s mug for him.

“Dude, it wasn't whistling yet?”

“I know; it was hissing like it was about to start. You're boring and don't like loud noises, especially when you’re all on edge like this, so,” he set the kettle back down, passing the warm mug to Virgil. 

Virgil stared at him, then at the drink in his hand, then back up at the Duke. He was, for what felt like the millionth time that day, unsure of how to react.

He… really hadn't thought that Remus would pick up on stuff like that. He should probably start getting used to that, maybe.

“I'm-” Virgil dragged his finger up and down the handle of his mug, “I'm not that on edge anymore, actually.”

The look that Remus sent him was indecipherable. 

“C’mon, I’ll queue up that flick I told you about.”

“Yeah,” Virgil let out a deep breath, one he hadn't even known he'd been holding, “Yeah, okay.”

 The floor was bubbling, popping, blistering with red fury. It was lava, sending bright flaming sparks in all directions. Thankfully for Remus and Virgil, sitting close together on the couch and viciously mocking cabin fever, the vicious rage was exclusive to one small circle near the staircase.

Virgil, who had been happily tearing apart the leading guy’s acting, cut himself off abruptly.

“Shit- wait- shit.”

Remus shook himself out of his raucous laughter, looking up in confusion. His eyes finally settled on the crimson patch of carpet, a look of realization crossing them. His voice turned much quieter than what fit him.

“Oh, fuck.”

It was like a volcanic eruption localized entirely within the living room, fire blazing in a tall column. From the emotional display, Roman rose up, face nearly as red as his method of transportation. 

There was that brief moment, right when a stressful situation appeared, of antithetical serenity. Virgil felt his muscles slacken in shock, his long-empty mug falling from his hands and landing on the carpet with a dull thud. A rush of calmness hollowed out his chest, lingering for just a few seconds before being replaced by panic. Tension returned to his limbs mere moments after that, like it was pulling him taut.

Roman wasn't even looking at them- in fact, he hadn't seemed to notice his brother or best friend at all. The fire fell back down, leaving a charred patch of carpet that would likely take a long time to repair itself. The passionate trait growled, a sound that bordered on a scream as he clawed his hands down his face. He stamped his boot sharply against the ground, igniting another small fire with the impact.

“Fuck!” He cried, ever oblivious to his audience. With a hasty wave, the flames flickered and disappeared. Roman glared down at the blackened spot where it had been, winding his arms tightly around himself. He took a few shaky breaths, but if anything he only looked worse off for it.

“Fuck,” this time spoken quieter, but with no less vitriol. An immaculately-manicured hand raised itself to cover his mouth, tightening around his face desperately as tears slipped from his eyes down his fingers. He turned on his heel and took the stairs two at a time.

In his wake, as the television had been paused, the only thing that Virgil could hear was buzzing in his skull.

What had happened? What was happening, currently?! Things had gone so wrong and it was all because of Virgil’s negligence- what bad things could have been prevented if he had just been there? Or- or even just listening in! When had he even stopped listening? He was supposed to protect them but he just gave up, just because he ‘couldn't handle it’, and now something was Wrong with Roman and he couldn't even focus on listening to them all now, not like this. He couldn’t hear, couldn’t hear or see anything at all.

A rough, calloused hand wrapped around his wrist. Virgil's shallow breath staggered even more at the feeling, the warbly noise of speech failing to meet his ears. His eyes were closed tight, he realized, stinging with emotion behind his eyelids.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Four seconds, four strikingly gentle presses against the vein of Virgil’s wrist. If it weren't for the slight edge of a claw, he could've confused the motion for one of Patton’s.

The four taps were followed by a brief pause, then a steady round of seven taps. Another pause, and then eight. As Virgil focused, as much as he could anyway, on the presses, the screaming of his mind very gradually abated. First, he pried his eyes open, staring down at the hand around his arm. Watching the tapping, feeling it, was grounding enough for his hearing to return in time. Virgil could hear Remus beside him, breathing deeply as a guide, and copying the exercise became that much easier. In for four, hold  for seven, out for eight. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

Remus didn't stop when Virgil did it properly one time over, when he was still shaking and teary. He didn't speak up even when the well behind Anxiety's eyes ran dry, after what had to be a dozen rounds of even breaths. It was only when Virgil finally, hesitantly slipped his wrist out of the other's grasp on his own terms that Remus made any sounds.

“Do you remember when you taught me to do makeup? Late teens, early twenties, around then?”

Talk about a topic shift. Virgil glanced up in confusion.

“I guess so? Wasn't that, like, the only time that we hung out and actually got along?” They’d never exactly been close, Virgil had made sure of that. It was, in retrospect, a regrettable decision on his part.

“Yeah. I was so bad at it, remember?”

“Hell yes, I remember,” Virgil felt a tiny smirk tug his lips at the memory, “You literally never sat still. You were and are the most impatient person I've ever met.”

“I’ve gotten a lot better, Vee.”

Virgil glanced at the bruise-like eyeshadow circling the Duke's eyes, but refrained from saying anything. Knowing him (kind of knowing him? Starting to know him better now? Whatever.) it was most definitely intentionally off-putting, and probably not a good way to judge his actual ability.

“But I’ve seen how you do it, when you really, really try; I think you're still better than me with it, ju-u-ust barely.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Virgil wasn't entirely sure where this was going, but he couldn't find the soft excitement in Remus’ eyes anything other than enticing. The creative side laughed, flapping his hand.

“It would be fun if you did it for me again! Just like old times, ey?”

Virgil stared at him, considering him carefully.

“You want me to do your makeup?” 

“Yes!” Remus leaned forward with his confirmation, but for once that didn't involve violating Virgil’s post-panic attack bubble, “It'll give you something to do with your hands other than peeling back all your skin, at the very least.”

Oh, right. Virgil not-so-subtly lifted his nails from his palms, wincing at the irritated red spots coloring his hands.

Truth be told, the idea wasn't… unappealing. It was an activity well between mindless and active, repetitive and artistic. Plus, he didn't exactly love being alone after attacks, and if anything Remus would be lively company. Company that he sort of, maybe, possibly was looking forward to spending the rest of the day with anyway, unfortunate events notwithstanding.

“Yeah, alright, if you're sure you want-”

“Great! Wait right there, bee-arh-bee,” before the words were even fully out of his mouth, Remus went limp and fell sideways off of the couch, falling right through the floor. 

In his absence, there was a void where his noise had been. Virgil stared at the paused movie scene, picking apart the little details of the frame just to have something to do. His mind drifted off to the state that Roman had been in when he entered. The sight of his friend so furious burned itself on the backs of Virgil’s eyelids. He knew that the anxiety wasn't all his own, either; he could feel it like waves from the other side of the MindPalace, the origin point clearly belonging to Roman.

He should check on him, shouldn't he? Or would that make it worse? Virgil certainly didn't feel like he was in any state to help. But then there was Patton to consider- something must have happened up there. Should he look for him, too?

There was a whoosh.

“I leave you alone for five seconds and you get right back to thinking!” Remus strode across the room, flopping right back onto the couch. Held in his arms was an enormous multi-pocketed bag, items clattering around within at every jostle their owner made.

“Overthinking is literally my whole job, man, this shouldn't surprise you,” Virgil shrugged, trying not to sound as relieved as he felt.

Remus simply rolled his eyes and dropped the makeup case onto Virgil's lap, sitting criss-cross parallel to him, their knees brushing slightly.

Virgil hesitated for a moment, scanning Remus' face, but all the other did was smile and blink (one eye at a time). 

Virgil zipped open the bag, rifling through and finding an overwhelming array of gaudy colors and odd products.

“Was there, like, a 'look' that you want to go for?”

Remus shrugged.

“Just go for it! I’m a blank canvas. The worse, the better.”

Virgil chuckled, picking out a few items to fit a theme he was coming up with and getting right to work.

Though it had been years since they’d last spent time together, it wasn’t awkward. In fact, it felt more comfortable than it had back then.

Remus managed to sit almost perfectly still, chattering the entire time that Virgil worked. Yet again his voice served as something like white-noise, wherein Anxiety only had to contribute whenever he chose. Remus only quieted when Virgil had to hold his face, tipping his head back to properly apply inky-black lipstick. And then, he remained silent for a moment, as they surveyed each other. 

Virgil had cleared his throat, warmth prickling at his ears, and the ceaseless rambling resumed after that.

In what felt like hours and no time at all, Virgil was finally satisfied with his work.

“Alright, you're all done,” he capped the bottle of mascara in his hand, rifling through Remus' bag for a mirror, “Wanna see?” 

Just as he felt the unmistakable cool surface of glass on his fingertips, Remus grabbed his wrist in both hands. 

“What-?”

“Not so fast! Now it's my turn,” he announced, his zealous eyes even more prominent on his face thanks to the thick wings of eyeliner around them. 

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Virgil looked from the assortment of garish colors that he'd mostly stayed away from in the makeup case, and then back up at the Duke.

“Usually: yes. But I am dead serious right now, Vee.”

Remus looked pleading, legitimately pouting. 

Virgil huffed. The side had gone out of his way to help him, when he really didn't have to, so…

“You're not going to just use this as an excuse to draw all over my face, are you?”

“I mean, no promises that I'll be able to restrain myself, but! Gimme a chance anyway, I can make you even hotter than you already are! Plus, we'll match then.”

“... Fine. Just- nothing too crazy, alright?”

“Again, no promises.”

Virgil groaned, but he still passed the bag to Remus.

 “Holy shit...”

Remus leaned over the basin of the bathroom sink, drumming his hands on the counter excitedly. He was starry-eyed as he observed the dark, dramatic colors covering his face: metallic emerald-green eyeshadow, excessively long lashes, and winged eyeliner sharp enough to cut a bitch. His lips were black as void, but shimmered like glitter. Everything about the look was dangerous, confrontational, and grim. 

“This is more out there than I’d usually wear, but. Yeah, holy shit.”

Virgil's expression, despite his best efforts, was equally awed as he peered into the mirror. The color around his eyes was mismatched; a lime to moss green gradient over his purple eye, lavender to royal violet over his green one- both colors contrasted by smudged black eyeliner under his eye. His signature Racoon Look had been maintained in that aspect, but it was even more exaggerated. In addition to that, Remus had taken to drawing various little symbols along Virgil's cheekbones, including things like upside-down crosses. Finally, there was the fuchsia lip-gloss, stark against Virgil’s paler-than-normal foundation. 

“It’s okay, I guess,” Virgil breathed reverently. 

“I love it!” Remus crowed, clambering onto the counter just to get a better look at himself. Somehow, he'd already managed to smudge the hell out of his eyeshadow, but it kinda… worked for him, if Virgil was being honest.

“Vee, we have got to do this more often!”

Virgil looked from his reflection to Remus', startled in a way he didn't entirely understand. The intrusive facet met his gaze through the mirror, the smile sliding off his face when Virgil didn’t respond to him.

“Right, Raggedy-Anx? It doesn't have to be this, specifically, if you really don't want to. We could just watch movies together, that's fine. Or we could do anything at all! Right?”

Virgil was still silent, lost in his mind. Remus fell from a kneeling position to sitting with his legs hanging off the counter, turning his back to the mirror.

“Was this a one-time thing? That's alright, too, if you just needed help calming down. I'm not as good as the others, I know, but if they're ever too busy again, you'll think of me when you need help, at least. Right?”

Finally, Virgil snapped out of his daze when he heard the panicked edge to Remus’ voice, feeling his anxiety as Virgil noticed the wild look that had completely erased his giddiness. It was a look that Virgil had seen plenty of times before, when Remus had been ignored far too long and was right about to start ripping things to shreds for some scraps of attention. Only then did Virgil fully recognize what the expression actually meant; the deep, terrified need that swirled behind the look, unsure of how to ask for what it really wanted after so many denials of that very want. 

“Shit, sorry,” Virgil moved to stand in front of him, eye-level to Remus even though he was elevated by the counter, “Hey, it's alright, Re, everything's fine.”

Remus was still trying very determinedly to smile.

“I know! Hell, I’m not the anxious one, I'm the one that makes people anxious,” his laugh sounded like it came from a throat full of broken glass, “I just- I liked this, ya know?”

“I know,” Virgil leaned forward, coaxing Remus' arms away from where he'd wrapped them around himself, “I like this, too.”

Remus let Virgil hold onto him, surprised into something like obedience.

“You? What?”

“I like this,” it wasn't as though Virgil was expecting to hug Remus, but it seemed to have happened on its own as they moved. It was leagues nicer than he could have imagined, despite the smell. “I like you…-r company.”

“That's weird,” Remus' legs curled around Virgil’s waist. Virgil rested his hands on Remus’ hips. He listened as the creative trait's breathing evened out, vaguely aware that the situation was similar to the one just an hour or so before. Except, the roles had been reversed, of course.

“I missed you. I know I never told you, but I missed you.”

Virgil felt guilt, hot and molten, dripping down his throat. He couldn't lie; he hadn't missed Remus when he left. But now he did, in a roundabout sort of way. He missed what could have been, all of the possible understanding and friendship and likely more that he could have had for so long with Remus- all of which he'd let slip by for years. Due to just writing the artist off as disgusting, or unnecessary. 

And perhaps some of that misunderstanding was Remus' fault as well, but Virgil couldn’t find it in himself to hold it against him.

“You don't have to anymore. Miss me, I mean. I'm- fuck, I'm so sorry.”

“Me too,” Remus said, pulling back to settle Virgil with a happy-yet-tearfilled gaze.

“Aw, hey,” he tightened his grip at Remus' hips, smirking, “You're gonna fuck up all my hard work on that eyeliner, Re.”

Remus laughed, loud and shrieky and him, smiling unnaturally and brilliantly wide once again. Virgil's breath caught in his throat- not for the first time that day, he found himself trapped up in that wild, energetic face.

Before Virgil was entirely aware of what he was doing, he was leaning forward, pulling Remus in by the waist. When the cackling finally stopped short, so did he, both much too far and far too close to the Duke. 

He didn't have the chance to explain himself, or apologize, or anything, because soon enough understanding flashed in Remus' eyes.

“Oh, oh yes, oh hell fucking yes.” 

Remus didn’t wait a second longer before closing the distance and smashing his lips against Virgil’s. A startled sound bubbled up in his throat, dying quickly as he acclimated to what was happening. Just as he did, he was reciprocating the kiss. 

Their teeth clashed together uncomfortably, and Virgil was hyper-aware of the threat both his own and Remus’ fangs posed if they weren’t careful, making it far from the perfect first kiss. But he wouldn’t have wanted that anyway, nor would he have expected it. It was, somehow, better. 

Remus' hand dragged down Virgil's back, his fingers fitting onto the notches of the facet’s spine. Virgil shivered, pressing himself flush against the counter (and Remus) and digging his thumbs into the trait’s hips. The motion earned him a beautiful whine from the other as the kiss deepened, growing less awkward and more heated by the second.

Virgil was unaware of how much time was passing, but when they finally parted, both were short of breath and significantly disheveled. Remus had his back pressed up against the mirror, his hair even fuzzier than its usual state, expression dazed and face flushed. From what Virgil could make out in his own reflection, he wasn't much better off. 

Just as soon as they'd separated, Remus' hand was on his face, his thumb dragging just under Anxiety's lip.

“You fucked up your lipstick,” he teased.

“So did you,” Virgil answered with a smirk, leaning into the touch. 

“I guess we'll have to fix it later.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Remus wriggled himself out of his pinned position, twisting around Virgil. He managed to situate himself and drop down from the bathroom counter, his manner suggestive, “Because all I wanna do right now is finish watching Cabin Fever with my new goth boyfriend and makeout during the boring parts.”

“Boyfriend?” Virgil ignored the jolt of warmth he felt at that, determined to stay nonchalant as he (subtly (not subtly)) slipped his hand into Remus’.

“You disagree?” 

Virgil pretended to think it over, leading them to the door and taking his time to click it open. 

“Nah, I don’t disagree,” he said finally, “I think I like the sound of that, actuall- yyyy.”

Virgil stopped short in the open doorway, voice dragging out in his shock. Behind him, he could feel Remus trying to crane around him to see what was happening, but Virgil didn’t move to accommodate him. Well, more accurately, he felt like he couldn’t really move at all, too busy parsing out the scene in front of him.

In the corner of the sectional- sharing a cushion- Janus and Patton sat, the former holding aloft a glass of wine, the latter snacking on a muffin. They sat with their legs tangled together, and had seemed to be engrossed with each other before the interruption. Both had paused mid-conversation to gawk in Virgil's direction, twin deer-in-headlights expressions on their faces. 

“What-” Virgil began, bewildered.

“The fuck?” Remus finished, pushing his way out of the bathroom.

Janus struggled to sit up into a more dignified position and take the reigns of the conversation. It didn't take him long to overcome his surprise at the interruption, his surveying gaze sweeping over the other two Dark Sides contemplatively. The look made Virgil’s skin crawl. 

“You know, we- well, we could ask you two-” he gestured at their interlocked hands, “-just the same question, couldn't we?” 

For a moment, there was silence. Virgil looked from Patton to Janus. Janus looked from Virgil to Remus. Patton looked at the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Remus looked at everyone and broke the silence.

“You didn't see us,” he announced, sidestepping his way to the staircase and dragging Virgil along with him, “And we didn't see you.” 

Janus squinted, tipped his head, and nodded conspiratorially. 

“Deal.”

With that little grant, Virgil and Remus darted up the stairs and into the sanctuary of the dimly lit hallway as quickly as they could. Luckily for them, Roman was probably either in a deep depression sleep or far into the imagination by now, and Logan Did Not Engage with Interpersonal Drama if he could help it. 

There was a second for appreciating the absurdity of the situation (and catching their breath), before either spoke to each other.

“I’ve got a huge flat screen,” Remus piped up at last, jerking his thumb in the direction of his room. 

“Any of us can conjure literally anything we want at any time, so I'm not sure what's impressive about that.”

Remus scowled, albeit playfully.

“Hush! Come watch someone slowly be consumed by a parasite with me!”

Virgil rolled his eyes and let Remus drag him off, his complaints accompanied by absolutely no efforts to avoid the situation. 

Things were weird, there was no denying that. Maybe they'd end up being that way for a while yet, and Virgil knew he had a lot of news to catch up on, but he found that thoughts like that were way back in his mind. Whatever happened, he reasoned, he would still have this comfort. The arms of someone he was finally coming to know wrapped tight around him, playing up his back, a mouth trailing kisses on his neck as he half-watched horror films. Yes, things would be difficult with the others, but it was secondary.

There was someone on his side now. Solidly, unarguably there for him. With him. And that made it all feel a little bit easier.

[fanatic-writers]

I don’t know if this is where we submit requests or not but, I just had an idea for a Loki x Reader where he and the reader accidentally get handcuffed together for a day? Thanks!

A/n: Heyyyy, I’m a master procrastinator and I don’t feel like doing homework so I’m going to do this instead. Hope you enjoy my past 1 am nonsense and sorry for taking so long to get this up… I’m sure it’s been over a year since this was sent to me……… anyway this is pre-Thor, enjoy -G

Thor had insisted it was for their own good, explaining, or trying to, that the two needed to be able to get along. See, the trickster and the witch had never really gotten along, both constantly trying to one-up each other when it came to magic. It had been this way since they were kids, Frigga had trained them both from the time they were old enough to cast a spell and since then the two had argued nearly every day. It was starting to become an issue though, and there was a fairly important battle coming up. Thor couldn’t risk the two trying to start something on the field and losing lives due to it. Sure it was an honor to die in battle but he’d rather not lose warriors if he didn’t have to. 

“This is ridiculous.” Y/n grumbled as she dragged her feet, purposely holding Loki back as he made his way to the library. “Your brother has really outdone himself this time. I think this is almost as stupid as his little get help scheme.”

“I thought you and my brother got along?” the trickster hummed, yanking on the handcuff that bound the two together to force the woman to keep up with him.

Y/n huffed “not when he ruins my day by hooking me up to you.”

The trickster just rolled his eyes, pushing open the double doors with his shoulder. He seemed less peeved than Y/n had expected him to be. He did love a good trick however so she figured it was just that.

“Well since you’re so upset why don’t we have a little fun?” the prince smirked, raising an eyebrow as he looked back at the sorceress.

There it was, the mischief in his eyes that many had learned to fear, Y/n usually saw it as an invitation though. Despite their lack of friendliness when the two managed to work together they could easily take on all nine realms. Their combined magic could clear battlefields when they weren’t trying to compete and Y/n truly believed that if Thor was with them he would be terrified.

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

The prank itself was rather simple in theory, make Thor think he was no longer worthy of his beloved hammer. That was easier said than done though, the older prince may have not been the smartest but Y/n was convinced he knew more about his brother’s tricks than he let on. This had to be flawless, they needed to create an illusion big enough to cover the sky, as well as a perfectly crafted replica of Mjolnir. Luckily a few dwarves owed the witch a favor and Loki was a master of illusions, the set up would still take time though and the trickster seemed rather reluctant to visit Sindri and Brok.

“Are you kidding me? They’ll have my head if I show my face in their forge again.” The prince huffed

Y/n rolled her eyes “It’s not my fault you burned a bridge with the only beings who know more about Mjolnir than Thor himself.” The sorceress pulled on her handcuff, Loki reluctantly following behind her as they reached the forge. 

The dwarves were hard at work as per usual, their forge as hot as a star, Y/n yanked Loki through the door before approaching the brothers who were hard at work. 

“It is time for the two of you to make good on your word.” Y/n declared as she looked between the two “I need a replica of Mjolnir for Thor, I owe him a favor and for whatever reason, one wasn’t enough for him. Don’t worry about the magic, I can handle that, but he requests for the hammer to look exactly the same as Mjolnir.”

Loki looked displeased, his face showing the slightest bit of fear as the dwarves' eyes moved from Y/n to him.

“You bring the trickster here ad expect us to believe your stories Lady Y/n?” Brok spoke up, eyeing the young prince. 

“I understand he has caused you some troubles in the past, as does his brother. As much as I would love for you to sew his mouth shut once more, it’s important that he stay unharmed. You see, I won't be able to get rid of him until I repay my debt to Thor which is why I require this new hammer by tonight. Understood?” Y/n spoke without hesitation, her voice powerful and unwavering as she glared at the dwarves, challenging them to speak against her. The two nodded, albeit reluctantly, before starting their work. 

The pair waited outside of the forge as the hammer was crafted, Loki going over the important steps of the illusion the two would need to create together. 

“It has to be seamless, we’re not just tricking Thor but everyone at the feast tonight. I’ll take care of visuals, you make sure that the hammer behaves properly,” he instructed, motioning for her to practice with a rather large rock. The two ran through the routine quite a few times but whenever it got to the point where Thor would attempt to pick up the hammer Y/n’s magic would slip.

“If you would just stop using your magic to pull the damn thing up-”

“Do you really think my brother is a weak man? He’s not going to give up without a fight and you need to be prepared.” Loki huffed 

“I am prepared, you’re overreacting.” Y/n countered 

“Then hold it down next time, I know you can do better than this, I’ve seen you pull down Jotuns without a second thought.” The god sighed, looking to the sorceress next to him 

“It’s different, I’m not in a life or death situation Loki,” the woman sighed, she was never as good as controlling her power, when she was stressed or upset she could topple buildings but even the nuisance beside her couldn’t generate enough anger for that to happen now. 

Loki stopped and took his hand in hers “It’s only different because you make it different. You have that power inside you, Y/n, you just have to use it. I know you can do this, tap into that emotion.”

The sorceress sighed and closed her eyes, trying her best to tap into her power like Loki had said but she couldn’t. She shook her head before opening her eyes, she and Loki were rather close and for once he didn’t seem like a menace. A slight smile graced her lips before the door to the forge opened, causing her to jump to her feet, or rather attempt to. Loki had other plans and nearly pulled her down on top of him when he didn’t move, however, she managed to recover.

Sindri eyed the two before handing a perfect replica of Mjolnir to Y/n, “give the prince my regards.” he hummed before heading back inside.

The two made it back just in time, the feast had begun and they were fashionably late. Loki smiled as he tossed the hammer in his hand, walking into the banquet hall with Y/n by his side. “Brother!” He called out, pointing the hammer at him “Are you missing something?” 

Y/n rolled her eyes slightly “I told him to just leave the damn thing alone but you know he never listens to me.” She huffed, watching as Thor got to his feet.

The God of Thunder walked over to the pair and clapped his brother on the back, “I’m glad,” he spoke, his nerves clear in his voice. “Forgive me for not believing this is real.” he laughed a bit, the others in the hall joining him. They grew quiet as Loki raised the hammer in the air, a large lightning bolt sprouting from the top of the hammer, singing the ceiling as a rumble of thunder echoed through the hall. “Still think this is a joke? Pick it up?”

Loki put the hammer on the ground, walking back a bit as he waited for his brother to try and take the hammer. He played it off for a moment, insisting it was all a joke before he leaned down. His body tensing as he tried to pull the weapon from the ground. Y/n’s grip on Loki’s hand tightened as she did her best to keep the hammer in place, but the younger prince could feel her slipping. He nudged her, getting her attention before pressing a firm kiss to her lips. Within a moment the hammer was flying through the air. It would’ve hit the trickster in the face if he hadn’t broken the kiss and caught it.

“Unlock these cuffs right now or so help me I will smash his head in with that thing!” Y/n screamed, her eyes on fire as she glared at Thor who made quick work of the locks on the chain. As soon as she was free she sent the replica Mjolnir flying into the wall, Loki attached to it and stormed out of the hall. 

The hall was silent for a moment before erupting into laughter as a distraught trickster slowly picked himself up from the ground. 

At least he had the sense to wait, Y/n thought as she heard the familiar soft knocking of the younger prince. She didn’t say anything but let the door swing open, the raven-haired man slowly making his way into the room. Y/n was curled in a ball, her blankets firmly tucked around her as she glared at him. “May I sit?” he spoke softly, waiting for an invitation before he lowered himself to a spot on the bed next to her. “I’m sorry about earlier, you were slipping, I- I thought it would help. Technically it did but not in the way I had hoped, I truly am sorry I thought we had a moment earlier and truth be told I’ve always tho-”

Loki stopped as a hand clamped over his mouth, “shut up” Y/n murmured, removing her hand from his mouth before scooting closer to him. After a while, she leaned her head against his shoulder, moving his arm so it was wrapped around her, the two of them at peace together for the first time in their lives.

[divineluce]

Research Reunion || Orion & Luce

Timing: May 11th, 2021

Tagging: @3starsquinn & @divineluce

Location: The Scribrary

Description: Who else would know phoenixes better than a Scribe? Luce goes to Rio for help-- third time’s the charm. Right?

Grabbing her backpack from the passenger seat of her car, Luce glanced up at the Scribary. She remembered the last time she’d been here, vividly, in fact. She’d been asking Rio for help that day too. Help for… Swallowing, she slid the backpack over her shoulder, keenly aware of the books inside. They were the one she’d borrowed from Rio, months and months ago. Books about ghosts, about exorcisms. She’d poured over every single page, trying to figure out how she could do something. And in the end, she hadn’t even been able to help. She’d failed. Nadia was safe, but no thanks to her. It was like how Remmy was safe, how Bea was safe-- by virtue of being nowhere near this town, they were safe. Luce made her way to the door of Scribe HQ and knocked on the door. “Hey. I need your help.” She said, not looking at Rio. The last time they’d seen each other… She didn’t want to think about that. Instead, she awkwardly held up her backpack, “I’ve also got some overdue books.”

Orion hadn’t expected to hear from Luce. The two hadn’t seen each other since everything with Lydia. And the last that he had heard from her was the alcoholic apology for punching him. Rio just hadn’t been sure which time specifically she had been apologizing for. Maybe it was meant as a catch all. Broken cheek bone aside, getting punched was nowhere near the reason that Rio expected the two hadn’t seen each other since the incident. The whole situation with Lydia… it still weighed on Rio. People had died. Instead of getting to help, Rio had been promise bound into hurting his sister and friends all in an attempt to help a serial killer escape. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for being so naive. At the end of the day, Rio and Luce had never been particularly close. She was more like the sister of the best friend of the person Rio had been dating. Familiar with each other by extension, acquaintances by association. “Hi there.” Rio held the door open, scratching the back of his neck as a nervous tick while conveniently covering half of his face with his arm. Just the memory of Luce made his face throb. “I really hope we can do introductions without the uh- punching thing this time.” Rio smiled innocently, though the joke sounded more like a genuine plea than anything a normal person would laugh at. But if there was anything that could get Rio out of that funk it was the mention of his books. “Really?! That’s amazing. That means I can take you off my list. Come on, follow me we can head back to the library.” Rio waved her inside and started off down the winding hallways, “So uh- it’s been a while. How ya been?”

Grimacing at the memories of how she’d… greeted him in the past, Luce offered a tight lipped smile. “Nope. No punching this time.” She said. Christ. He was just a fucking kid. And she’d fucking clocked him. Twice. She needed to work on that. She needed to work on a lot of things, but decking kids was definitely on the list. Slipping the bag off her shoulder, Luce pulled out two of the thick leather bound books and tossed them to Rio. “Yep, right here. Ghosts and Ghouls and Diaries of an Exorcist. Real light reading.” She said before squinting in slight confusion. “A list?” She echoed as she followed him inside. The hallway seemed a bit brighter than the last time she’d been here and she realized there were lights installed along the halls. Lights that hadn’t been there before-- Winston’s handiwork, she realized. Winston must have fixed the place up before she left. Yet another person who was better off away from here.

Shrugging, she mulled over her response. Out of magic. Out of people to turn to. Which is why she was here, why she’d talked to Leah. “Keeping on keeping on. Just trying to fix some shit, that’s all. What about you?” She asked.

It felt like there were a million books in the Scribrary. Far too many for Orion to ever truly miss a random ghost book that Luce had borrowed a few months back. Still, there was something oddly comforting about knowing that one was going to be back where it belonged and he could mark it off the list. “Oh yeah. I sort of started a list. Like a book check out system, so that I can keep a better track where the books are. If I can’t find one I start to get stressed, so it’s a bit calming to know which ones are in someone else’s hands.” Rio shrugged following the explanation. Even he knew that it seemed a little over the top, but considering people had found their way in before without his knowledge he also thought it’d be a good idea to keep track just in case a book disappeared that he hadn’t lent out. Farther down the hallway, he couldn’t help himself from making further conversation, “For the record, what I said earlier? When you first got here? Totally a joke. I don’t blame you for either time you-” Rio held up a fist and motioned towards his face. “Just so you know.”

Rio wondered what Luce meant by that. What exactly was she trying to fix? It probably had something to do with what she was doing here asking for his help. “Good to hear.” Rio answered regardless. It hadn’t been the most positive answer, but keeping on was about as good as it got in White Crest, “Loaded question. I guess I’m alright, all things considered. It’s just been a long year already.” He didn’t want to bother Luce with all of his issues. It was just depressing and sad, “But I’m glad you dropped by. I’m happy to help with whatever you need.”

“Huh. Guess that makes sense.” Luce said, because it did on some level. She’d never liked books, never really cared much for anything that she couldn’t listen to or see or feel. But it made sense for Rio to keep track of shit. They continued down the hallway in relative silence, Luce aware of how fucking awkward it all was. She’d never really given a shit about Rio. Which was a pretty terrible thing, but it was true. Rio wasn’t someone she’d bothered to get to know-- he was just Winston’s boyfriend. But, he wasn’t just that, was he? He’d been there, that day… he’d seen what she’d done. He’d stood between her and Lydia and she hadn’t cared. And fuck. He was… human. Innocent. “You should. I shouldn’t have punched you. Either time.” She said, her voice dull, sounding almost as numb as she felt. The memories of that day still haunted her. Day and night, what she’d done, it stayed with her.

“Yeah.” Luce said offhandedly. “I feel that. A long fucking year already.” It was hard to believe that a single year had passed since she’d been pulled from her cabin by her parents, forced to live with Bea and Nell. Now, she would give almost anything to even see her parents, let alone argue with them over whether it was really necessary for her to live with her sisters as a grown ass adult. Clearing her throat as they entered a room lined with shelves crammed full of books, “Great. I’m looking for books on phoenix’s. Specifically stuff on what can cause corruption. I reached out to,” Luce paused, not knowing if Rio was exactly on the up and up with Leah, “someone who knows about phoenix’s, but they didn’t know much either.”

It was obvious from her tone that Luce didn’t want to talk about it. Orion couldn’t claim that he wanted to talk about it either. It was awkward. Especially with someone he didn’t actually know well. “I mean the first time was just a misunderstanding. I can’t fault you for looking out for Winston.” Rio shrugged. He hadn’t loved it when it had happened. And he had mostly wished that Luce would have given him at least a minute to try to explain himself before she chose to punch him instead. But Rio and Luce weren’t super close. Luce cared about Winston and owed nothing to Rio. “I can’t say I would have done the same, but that’s just because I’m very non confrontational. I’d rather silently second guess from afar.” The second time was an entirely different story. “And we all know that I wasn’t in control with Lydia. You had to do what you had to do. If anyone should be apologizing it’s me. I threw a knife at you.” The reminder of it flashed through his head. The snapping of Athena’s arm. The air whistling as the knife flew and landed in the back of Luce’s leg. He blinked the images away and tried to focus again. “I’m just saying, neither one was exactly unmotivated.”

Inside the library, Rio was able to breathe a tiny bit easier. Something about the place calmed him. Maybe being here with Luce was not any less awkward than it was in the hallway, but it felt less claustrophobic. Physically and mentally. “Phoenixes?” Rio repeated, crossing his arms and giving a huff as he tried to consider what might be useful. “Honestly? There’s not a ton of information on them in the Scribrary. I have a theory, but can’t really prove it. But I think maybe one of them knew enough about their past lives to take the books that were stored here. Or the Phoenixes that worked as Scribes never trusted them enough with the knowledge.” All of that was speculation, a theory mostly beginning when he learned that Leah’s past life had been involved with the Scribes. Part of Rio wanted to question Luce’s source. Given her sister’s relationship with Leah, it made sense that Leah directly might be the source. But he didn’t have any interest in outing the woman if Luce wasn’t privy to that knowledge. Leah was actually starting to trust Rio, despite his hunter heritage. He didn’t want to give her any reason to jeopardize that. “But I definitely have some stuff on them. Follow me.”

“I should have stopped to think. To ask questions, get some straight answers.” Luce replied dully, her boots falling heavily against the solid stone pavers of the building. How fucking old was this place anyways, she wondered absently. It seemed older than the town itself. “I should have done a lot of shit differently.” She said, but grimaced at Rio’s next words. You had to do what you had to do. No. She’d done much more than that. She remembered the way she’d set fire to innocent bystanders, people caught in the crossfire of a world they weren’t even aware of. She could feel the flames curl and crackle against their skin. She could remember the way rage and fear had coursed through her. “Sure. They weren’t unmotivated.” But they were motivated for the wrong fucking reasons.

Glancing around at the massive store of books, Luce had a hard time believing that the Scribes didn’t have much on the subject of Phoenix’s. They had to have something. They had to have information. Or else… what was Luce going to do? Give up. Go back to Adam and tell her she wasn’t the right person for the job. Her magic was gone, her sister was gone, her family had abandoned her for what she was. And now, she couldn’t-- she couldn’t even find a goddamn book. Luce wrapped her arms around herself as she listened to him, as though she could hold all the remains of who she was together. “Alright. Makes sense to me. Theories and stuff aren’t my wheelhouse, but sure. Lead the way.” She nodded.

Unable to argue that, Orion just shrugged. At the time, he had certainly wished that Luce had stopped to question Rio on the topic or tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Partially because he didn’t enjoy getting punched in the face, but mostly because he had hoped that he ame off friendly and pleasant enough that Luce might have questioned the misunderstanding entirely. He had to remind himself that the two had not been friends at the time. He wasn’t even sure what they were now. “Yeah. Well I get that much. I would have done a lot differently too.” Like never promise a random woman that he would protect her at all costs. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure he would have done anything different. He still wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt. He just couldn’t help himself from making stupid decisions.

Rio didn’t waste any time leading her to the few materials that he had found on phoenixes. Most were journals by other scribes talking about their experience with them, though there were a few self-collected bestiaries that almost devoted a small section to them. Certainly not as vast as some of the more common supernatural creatures. Books about vampires or werewolves took up multiple bookshelves, while mentions of Phoenixes fit neatly on a single row. “I guess theories and stuff is sort of my area of expertise. If you want to call it that.” He honestly wasn’t sure what he would describe as his ‘wheelhouse’. When he got to the shelf, and pulled off a book and started flipping through it, “So if there’s anything about them it’s probably here. Feel free to start flipping through some of them. What kind of corruption do you mean?”

“Shoulda,” Luce kicked at a broken piece of cobblestone, “Coulda,” The stone bounced and skittered across the floor ahead of her, “Woulda.” She said, a grim expression on her face. There were a lot of things she would have done differently. She wouldn’t have let herself get carried away by fear, by anger. She wouldn’t have called in a favor from a woman she hardly knew or understood. She wouldn’t have listened to the words of a kid, of a… fuck. She was more than just a kid. Athena was Rio’s sister. Christ. Rubbing her forehead, Luce followed him to a different section of the scribrary. The books here were all old, leather bound things, with worn spines. No doubt used by generations of Hunters and Scribes alike. And now… her. To try and do something good for once.

“The way I see it, you’re the expert here on books. Theories go right along with that.” She shrugged. Luce wasn’t a theory gal, wasn’t a reader, barely even gave a shit about learning things she cared about. Rubbing a hand on her arm, Luce thought back to the scene she and Adam had witnessed in the forest. The way the fires had burned an natural red, the way a curved beak had seemed to jut from the phoenix’s face, while their head remained human. Pulling another book from the shelf, she paused at an anatomical diagram of a phoenix, in both human and full form. How had the person who wrote this book figured out the anatomy? Had the phoenix in this sketch offered this knowledge? Or had it been taken? Luce cleared her throat. “The flames, they didn’t burn like normal fire. Or normal phoenix fire either. There were feathers, on fire, being shed all over the place. And they didn’t go out on their own. They just kept burning, like oil. And the flames, they didn’t look right. There was this shade of red, to them. I’ve never seen fire look like that before.” She frowned, “And I know fire.”

Listening to Luce’s description, a worried line settled across Orion’ face. “That sounds scary.” He didn’t know much about phoenixes, but that definitely didn’t sound normal. Plus, he trusted Luce if she said that it hadn’t been normal. “Definitely not something you see everyday.” Rio had a bad feeling that if the former Scribe phoenixes did know anything about this it wasn’t something that they would want stored in Scribe records for anybody in the group to see. His only hope was that something was left behind, or somebody was studying the phoenix without their knowledge. Just the thought of that made him feel gross, though. He didn’t want to operate like that. Studying someone that didn’t want their secrets out. He would be better. He had to be. “Do you think they were dangerous?”

Had it been scary? Maybe. At this point, Luce had seen so much shit in this town, done so much fucked up shit… it hadn’t really registered as scary. Which was a troubling thought-- one that she could deal with later. When she wasn’t trying to stop half the woods outside of White Crest from getting set ablaze. Shrugging, she continued to flip through her book, “Nope. Not at all. Apparently, they also were able to melt through a car. Which means they’re powerful. Real goddamn powerful.” She said, thinking back to the melted shards of glass and obsidian, the dried streambed. At Rio’s question, Luce paused. Yes, definitely. But not because they wanted to be. “They’re dangerous only because they’re out of control. Whatever happened to them, it doesn’t look like it was intentional. Magic might change someone’s appearance, but it wouldn’t be enough to alter their flames. I think they’re in trouble.” I think they’re afraid of what they’ve done. What they might do.

Orion continued flipping through his own book, but couldn’t help but glance up at Luce as she described the encounter. She sounded so casual while discussing so insanely powerful. Rio had been dealing with the supernatural his entire life and he still couldn’t quite manage to keep himself that calm. “Woah. Didn’t know that was something they could do. That’s like… insanely hot.” Rio had no idea exactly how hot, but definitely not a safe amount of hot. He realized moments too late what he had said. “Hot as in like actual temperature hot, I mean. Not like attractive hot. For the record. I mean melting a car might be very attractive. I’ve never seen it for myself.” Definitely time to focus on reading that book again. He pulled it up to try to head his reddening face and only peaked over the top to look back at Luce when she gave him the best news he had heard so far tonight. That she didn’t think it was intentional. She didn’t think they were dealing with someone evil, but someone that might need help. Now that he could get behind. “In that case, we have to find something. I want to help.”

“Sure is.” Luce said off-handedly as she read a paragraph about phoenix feathers and molting patterns. Hm. Nothing there. A bit late, she realized that Rio was sputtering over his words. Glancing up from her book, she offered a grin. “Keep it in your pants there. But no, I know what you mean. It’s real fucking hot. I’ve melted metal before, but that shit takes time. And I only did doorknobs. I could never cut something as huge as a car. Guess that’s what happens when you’re basically a living sun.” She said before going back to her book. Fuck, she hated reading. Why weren’t there like… audiobooks for this shit? Or some wise old person to tell her what was up? Well. There were plenty of wise old spell casters in town, the difference was… they just wouldn’t have anything to do with her anymore. She couldn’t exactly go to them for help. So, Rio and Leah were the next best thing. At Rio’s words, Luce looked at him again, expression  pensive. “Why? This isn’t your responsibility, you don’t need to help me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. But why?” Was he trying to ease guilt the way she was, was he trying to atone?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Orion laugh sarcastically, thankful that Luce didn’t spend much time teasing him on the subject. Instead, she surprised him. He knew about her family's power, but he had no idea she had been strong enough to use the fire to cut metal. “That’s impressive. I guess I should have known that fire magic like that could get that powerful.” The extent of his knowledge on spellcasters came from Winston and the Vural family admittedly. The Quinn family had never partnered much with spellcasters to help catch supernatural creatures. They had always been far too proud. He hadn’t been expecting Luce to question his intentions. It took him off guard, mostly because he didn’t really know them himself. Though he had more than a few ideas. “Um… I guess I don’t know the right answer to that.” Rio shrugged, but continued to consider the question, “I guess I’ve seen a lot of bad stuff in my life? I was raised as a hunter, told that supernatural people were inherently evil and unnatural. I knew that wan’t true, but I never got a chance to help them.” More often than not, Rio had stood idly by while watching them get slaughtered. It wasn’t a feeling that Rio would soon forget, the helplessness of knowing he couldn’t stop it. The disgust at himself for not trying anyways. He had failed so many people in this town. He just didn’t want to do that anymore. “Now’s my chance. I don’t want to waste it.”

“It can.” When it works. When it wants to. “But, I couldn’t do something like that even if I wanted to.” Luce said, saying the words her brain was thinking automatically. Luce’s mouth snapped shut and she stared at Rio. Fuck. Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say that. She didn’t-- she didn’t want more people to know about this than need be. She didn’t have the protection of the coven and Bea had only just gotten back from New York, she didn’t want to add more to her sister’s plate. Same went for Nell—she didn’t want to force her baby sister to watch her back. If more people knew that Luce was without her magic, it would paint a big fucking target on her back. “I didn’t say that. You didn’t hear anything about my magic. You got it?” She asked, voice shaking slightly.

Listening to his words, Luce couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could have thought that this kid could be a hunter. He might have the genes, but there wasn’t a cruel bone in his body. “Yeah. Don’t fucking waste it.” She repeated before looking blankly back down at the book that was clutched in her hands. Any other time, the pages would be scorched and smoking in her grasp, a byproduct of her stress and anger. But the pages were only slightly crumpled under her fingers. Fuck.

Orion was left confused and concerned about Luce’s comment. It had been said so quickly that it had almost completely gone over his head completely. But a few moments after Rio’s eyes narrowed as he became perplexed by the wording. His head tilted, glancing away from the book in order to get a better look at Luce. Before he even had a chance to question her, Luce was talking again. She seemed pretty adamant that this was not something to be spoken of. Or even remembered from the sounds of it. That only concerned Rio more. “Right. Uh- didn’t hear anything.” Rio bit his lip and considered if there was anything else he should say. Adam had experienced something similar with his own abilities. Why did that thing only happen to people that actually wanted the powers? “But uh- if I did hear something, I’d definitely be there for you. Like to help figure that out. But I wouldn’t tell anyone. If I had heard anything.”

Not wasting the opportunity would be a lot easier if Rio knew what to do to help. That was the first step in helping others. Still, he appreciated Luce’s energy. It was intimidating for sure, sometimes downright scary. But it was surprisingly motivating. It made Rio want to find the answer to this more than ever. “I won’t. We’re going to help.” Rio tried remaining confident. Good vibes only. “Even if we have to write it ourselves.”

“Nope. You sure didn’t.” Luce said flatly before looking back at her book. It was useless though. She wasn’t the studying type usually and even less so when she had an audience. She glared up at him, ready to tear him a new one if he kept up on this subject. But, as she looked over at him and saw the expression on his face, she couldn’t help but sigh. She didn’t want his help, but… “We’ve got more important things to deal with than my shit. But thanks. You don’t need to, though.”

“Yeah.” She said with a nod before flicking through her book. “Whatever it takes.” Luce said quietly, the words familiar to her tongue. Not in the same context, not in the same way, but the words were just as true as they were a year ago. Whatever it takes. She’d right her wrongs, one step at a time. As she skimmed over the pages, she paused on what looked like… an ingredient list. It seemed to be talking about some kind of illness-- not corruption, exactly. But something that affected phoenix flames. “Hey. What do you think about this?” She asked, pointing at the list. “Essence of the phoenix stricken by disease. White flowered herbs found where wild creatures roam, bound with sage and lavender to purify. Tears of another freely given and,” Luce squinted at the text, “Fire. Lots of fire.”

Clearly, Luce was serious about not bringing it up. Orion continued to peak over the book at her, trying to pick up on any signs without asking. Asking wasn’t the right idea it seemed. Rio wasn’t sure that he could necessarily relate. He had always hated his abilities, had wished that they would go away. For him, losing them felt like a blessing in disguise. But for someone that seemingly liked and enjoyed the powers they had always had, it must be a lot harder. Like an extension of themselves. Rio didn’t understand, but he could guess that it must feel like losing a part of herself. “Point taken. Subject dropped.” Rio assured her, though he hoped at some point it would come up again.

Rio continued skimming through his own book until Luce pointed something out in the book she was looking through. He bent around to get a better look at the list and scanned through quickly, noting a few words that stuck out to him. “A phoenix disease? Never heard of that before. But that could make sense.” If there was ever a disease specific to phoenixes, one of the first things Rio would consider was their fire abilities and temperature. “So is the list some kind of spell? Or potion maybe?” He squinted at the list further and sighed, “They kept it pretty vague. Except for the fire part.”

At least he dropped it. That was something. Luce focused on the list-- there wasn’t much to go off of at all. It read more like an old ritual that the coven would do, one of the ancient rites that they did on a yearly basis. Big magic, powerful magic. The books Bea had kept, the ones on necromancy, they had featured lists similar to these. They were written to be vague for a reason. “It’s a spell. A potion would have more specific instructions, discussion about tinctures or timing. This is a ritual, some kind of cleansing. The sage and lavender tell me that much.” She tapped the line on the book before flipping the page. But, there were no further instructions, no other words. “Whoever wrote this, they kept their cards close to their chest. And I don’t blame them. The Scribe who figured this out, they must have worked with spellcasters and at least one phoenix. Can’t imagine either of them would have wanted the specifics of a ritual to be written out.” She said with a sigh and pulled out her phone to take a picture of the list. “I don’t know exactly what all of this means. The fire is clear and the lavender and sage are easy enough to source. The specifics of it, though. Can’t tell you.” Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Luce wished she was better at this. Better at all the parts of magic that she’d scorned. Because then, maybe she wouldn’t feel so lost.

Orion listened to Luce’s description intently. He was thankful to have a friend well versed on spells like that. That is what Luce was, right? A friend? Today more than ever, it seemed like there was actually a small chance of that. “Good to know.” Rio nodded, making a mental note of this in the back of his mind. He may never be involved in a spell or potion making, but he would at least remember how to tell a difference between the two, hopefully. “Big shocker there, a scribe being cryptic and vague.” He sighed. For a group dedicated to cataloguing supernatural knowledge for historical use, a lot of scribes didn’t love putting things in layman's terms. “I can’t tell you anything for sure, but I have a couple theories. That part about wild creatures. I would bet they’re referring to more than just your average wild animal. Probably somewhere with a large population of supernatural creatures. And this part,” Rio paused to look at the part about the tears of another, “Phoenix tears are supposed to be special, right? Some kind of super healer or something.”

“Witches aren’t much better. Must be a paranoid magic thing.” Luce said with a shake of her head before shutting the book. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of what it meant and, honestly, she wanted to be able to study the book on her own. It took her time to parse through magical shit, she didn’t pick up written spells and rituals quickly. “Mind if I borrow this? I’ll give it back sooner than the last batch.” She said, shaking the ancient book in her hand. “As far as what you’re saying… It makes sense, but keep looking for anything that might help. We don’t even know if this would help a phoenix who’s been corrupted. This is talking about disease, but I don’t think what we’re dealing with is a disease. I’ve got some leads I might track down, see if they can help.” She let out another sigh. “But yeah. Thanks for your help with this.”

Magic seemed fickle. Orion nodded at Luce’s statement, wondering what made it so different from hunter strength or a werewolf’s ability to turn. In the end, it was all some kind of magic, right? Some unexplained phenomenon that made people stronger or more capable than regular people. None of it made sense. But without any insight, Rio decided to just nod in agreement and leave it at that. “Yeah of course. Take whatever you want. I’ll just make a note of them before you leave. For this archive thing.” He shrugged, sure that she wasn’t interested in hearing about his attempts to modernize this ancient library. “Definitely. I’ll keep looking. Keep me updated okay? So I can help with stuff.”

Shoving the book into her backpack, Luce nodded. “I think just the one will be enough for me. It’s not exactly light reading.” She said as she shrugged on her bag. As she turned to leave, she glanced at the young Scribe for a moment. He really did want to help. And fuck, she needed the help. She wasn’t smart enough, didn’t know enough about magic outside of her own fire. And she couldn’t do this alone. It wasn’t possible, not if she wanted to help this person. “Yeah, I will. I’ll keep you posted. And if you find anything… let me know.” She said before turning her back on Rio and walking back down the dark corridors of the Scribrary. First Leah, now Rio. Who else would know about this? Who else could help her? Who else would understand why she… needed to do this?

It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. “Whatever it takes.” She repeated to herself. Whatever it takes, to bring some scrap of balance back to the world. To right the wrongs in her past. Whatever it takes. 

[storiesnobodyreads]

ENDLESSLY INFURIATED [1]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Story: You hate Bucky Barnes more than anything and are not shy to let everyone know about this. Will things change when Steve convinces you to join him on a fancy night out?

There were not many things that endlessly infuriated you. Bucky Barnes, however, was definitely one of those things. His brooding, quiet self frustrated you to no end, and there was no clear explanation for this, not even to you. He had technically never done anything wrong. Always a gentleman, always polite, always oh-so-willing to sacrifice himself for his friends. Sometimes it seemed that Barnes had decided that he wasn’t supposed to be alive at this point anyway so he might as well rescue others no matter the cost.

“Want some coffee?” Barnes asked when you trudged into the kitchen of the Stark Tower early in the morning.

Unfortunately, Barnes was always the first one up and ready, so whenever you felt motivated to go for a run or workout early in the morning, this good motivation was instantly killed off by Barnes’ presence. “Ugh, no, fuck off,” you groaned.

“Good morning to you too,” said Barnes without a care, pouring some coffee into one cup for himself.

You rolled your eyes, fetching some cereal and milk and thudding down on a high chair at the bar. To your absolute dismay, Barnes joined you at the bar. You stared at him. “What the fuck?”

Barnes raised his eyebrows at you. “Didn’t realize you own this place. Last time I checked I’m free to sit wherever I want.”

You put up your ultimate bitch face. “Fine, dickwad. Just don’t talk to me. Don’t even look at me.”

For some reason, it pissed you off possibly even more that Barnes never seemed to care about your blatant verbal aggression toward him. He simply slightly shook his head and took a sip of hot steaming coffee, which admittedly smelled really good. He twirled his cup in his hands, looking relaxed in his grey sweatpants and over-sized white sweater.

Cute, you thought quickly, but you soon pushed that thought very far back in your mind. You finished your breakfast as fast as you could, in absolute silence. Barnes didn’t look at you once nor did he seem to feel the need to start a conversation. In a sense that you despised, breakfast was actually quite peaceful like this. When you were done, you got up to place your used stuff in the dishwasher. 

“I can clean up,” Barnes offered, “so you can go on your run.”

You narrowed your eyes and stared at the man with as much hatred as you could gather, violently placing your bowl in the dishwasher and practically throwing the spoon in its holder. Without saying another word, you marched out of the kitchen, where you bounced into Tony. “Oh, good morning, Tony!” you said cheerfully, pressing a kiss on the man’s cheek. 

“Mornin’, lovely,” was Tony’s response. He was wiping some sleep out of his eyes, clearly having had a long night. You didn’t quite know what project he was currently working on, but it was fair to say it was robbing him of his sleep. “You’re up early,” he commented.  

You nodded, ponytail swinging. “Felt good today. Am going for a run.”

“Alright, love. Have fun.” 

“Thanks, thanks. Maybe after I could help you with your project, if you got anything to do for me?”

Tony scratched the scruff on his chin, suppressing a yawn. “Yeah, I might have some things for you to look at later. Thanks for offering. Now go run, kid.” You grinned when he sent a wink in your direction. 

Barnes spoke up from the bar, “Have fun, Y/N.”

In reaction to him, you simply raised your middle finger and strolled out of sight. 

Running had always simultaneously been your most favorite and least favorite activity. You loathed it because it was often boring, leaving you alone with your thoughts which soon turned into a mentally challenging exercise. You loved it because whenever you felt anxious, you could just run as fast as your legs could carry you and sweat all the anxiety out. Sam’s explanation for this had been that when humans get stressed, their fight or flight reaction gets triggered, because in the good old days stressors were things like wolves. After being confronted with the wolf, you would either be safe or dead, but not anxious. With the stressors of the current society, you can’t run away or fight, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. But running, sometimes, helped you get rid of that feeling.

On top of that, it was a wonderful morning. Not too hot, not too cold, not a cloud to be spotted in the bright blue sky. The nice smell of fresh bread oozing from the bakeries as birds awoke and fluttered through the air. Despite having had breakfast with Barnes, it was a good morning. And it felt like today might be a good day. 

You returned to the Stark Tower an hour or so later, when you presumed most of the Avengers had woken up. You happily greeted Elena the receptionist and said hello to some of the security guards, waving cheerfully at James from Human Resources through the glass walls of his department. After a quick stop to send your best wishes at the Youth Centers Tony had set up for children and teenagers in need of books or an internet connection or any form of help, you made your way up to the Avengers headquarters. 

Needless to say, you were relieved to find Barnes’ seat empty. 

“Y/N!” you were welcomed enthusiastically by Steve, who waved you over to the couch in the living room. All the glass walls, which according to Tony emphasized openness and honesty among the Avengers, made it easy to see whenever someone entered. You made your way over to Steve, moving past Wanda who used some of her red flaring magic to pull you closer to her so she could plant a kiss on the top of your head. Wanda spent most of her time using her magic to fly around the kitchen and living room, simply to annoy the other Avengers that they couldn’t fly. Thor had once started the argument that he could, in fact, fly, but when Wanda had dared to do so without the help of his hammer, his big mouth soon vanished. 

Having arrived at the couch, you let yourself fall down, sprawling your legs over Steve’s lap and letting your head rest on Sam’s knees. “What’s up, losers?” you smiled. 

“Ew, you stink,” Sam coughed exaggeratedly. He faked trying to push you away from him. “Take a shower before you come poison us!” 

“Steve asked me to come here!” you argued. 

Steve grinned and patted your shins. “That was before I realized what a sweaty human being you were. Disgusting, Y/N, really—anyway, the reason I asked you over here is because I kind of need you to do me a favor.”

You instantly became suspicious. “Oh no. What?”

“Well, remember that nice new girl that is working for James in Human Resources now?” Steve started with a nervous laugh. 

You shot up straight and gently hit Steve against his chest. “You didn’t!” 

Steve was laughing, “I did, I did. I asked her out on a date. We’re going out tonight.” 

“No way!” you exclaimed excitedly, throwing yourself at the man to hug him. “I’m so happy for you! Lucie is so nice, Steve! The two of you would make such a lovely couple!” 

“Alright, calm down there,” Steve lifted you up from him, smiling widely. “Thank you very much for introducing us, though. I owe you one.” 

“This is going to be amazing, Steve, I—” you realized suddenly that Steve had started out this conversation stating that he was going to ask for a favor. “Right. I’m very happy for you, but what do you want from me then?”

“Well,” Steve cleared his throat. “When I was asking Lucie out for a date tonight, I might have accidentally, you know, in the heat of the moment, I was very nervous, I might have said that it was going to be a double date... Um, to make it less awkward.” 

You stared at him. “To make it less awkward? To make it less awkward you thought it’d be a good idea to invite me?”

Steve put up a broad smile. “Yes?”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it into Captain America’s stupid face. “WHY?” you exclaimed incredulously. 

“Because she knows you and she likes you!” Steve defended himself, raising his arms to stop to downfall of more pillows on top of his head. “And somewhere in my rambling I thought it was easier to a group activity than it just being the two of us--”

You emphasized every word with a hit, “you – are – so – dumb!” 

“That’s not even all I— damn,” Steve laughed, fighting back to steal the last pillow away from you. He put up his puppy eyes. “Please tell me you’ll come with me. Please. I really like Lucie and I need your help.” 

Raising one brow, you marvelled at how Steve was usually such a strategic leader out in the field and yet here he had turned into a begging boy, nervous because he liked a girl. You shortly remembered how Steve hadn’t always been this good-looking and still had a sense of insecurity when it came to his looks and getting girls. “My god. Okay. But that means you owe me twice, Steve.” 

Steve attacked you with a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” 

“Gosh,” you tapped out on Steve’s back, unable to breathe with him on top of you. When he let you go, he looked so relieved you decided it might actually be worth it to help him out this way. “Right then. Where do I have to be?”

“Down at the reception, at 7? I’ll choose the restaurant and everything. It’s going to be fancy. That’s a warning.” 

You glared. “Why do you say that like I am incapable of looking fancy?”

Behind you, Sam barked out a laugh. “Because, sweetheart, you are absolutely gorgeous, but it is an odd day to see you wear anything other than gym clothes. Look at what you’re wearing right now.” 

You scoffed indignantly. “I just came back from a run!” 

Sam and Steve continued teasing you and making you laugh until you decided that it presumably was time to go for a shower. After cleaning yourself up you stepped into an old pair of jeans and shirt to join Tony in the basement to see if you could help the exhausted man out. 

You found Tony lying beneath an old car, sparks flying out of underneath the vehicle as machines were whirring loudly. You kicked Tony’s feet. “Oi!”

The man startled and bumped his head against the car. “Jesus!” he cursed, before rolling from underneath the vehicle to face you. “For fuck’s sake, can you make an entrance like a normal human being for a change?”

“Not really,” you smiled while fetching an iced pack from the fridge and tossing it in Tony’s direction. “You know me. Such a diva. Always the centre of attention.”

Tony grumbled some inaudible cursing words as he pressed the iced pack onto his forehead. “Not a bigger diva than me, you’re not. You’re too comfortable is what I’ll give you. You feel like you can be your most annoying self with the Avengers.”

You raised one eyebrow. “And can I?”

Tony shrugged. In a short burst of honesty, he said: “Of course. We all love you. Would be lost without you.” With similar ease, he barked at you: “Now will you help me out and fuck off out of my sight?” He proceeded to explain what you could do in order to help out with a small piece of his project. You were no expert in engineering like Tony, but he had taught you a fair amount over the years. Even though you weren’t gifted like Peter, you were a fast learner and possessed the power of common knowledge and google. 

Peter wasn’t present in Tony’s basement that morning, even though it was generally his favourite place to be. Tony didn’t tolerate many people in his basement, as his usual working vibes included loud AC/DC music, an excessive amount of coffee, red bull and alcohol, and as few living things to bother him as possible. You and Peter were the only Avengers that were allowed to come and go as you pleased. 

As soon as Tony had finished his instructions, he turned up the volume of his music and vanished back underneath his car. 

You twirled some tools in your hand and made your way to the back of the basement, where you wouldn’t be in Tony’s line of sight. As you moved around a high stack of apparatus to reach a free desk, you found the one person sitting there that you didn’t want to see. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Barnes?” you called out. 

Barnes didn’t even look up. Massive noise-cancelling headphones rested atop his head, seemingly so to avoid going insane thanks to an overload of AC/DC. He was wearing a simple white shirt; his back somewhat sweaty and muscles tensed as he tinkered on the machinery before him. His black hair was bundled up in a small knot in his neck. His metal arm operated smoothly, all his movements perfectly under control. 

You gawked at the man for a while. Probably a little longer than was socially acceptable. Likely a lot longer than was socially acceptable. 

There were many negative things you thought about Bucky Barnes, but you couldn’t fault him on his looks. The man was extremely good-looking and fit, and no one could deny that. 

But then you remembered his personality and instantly felt annoyance bubbling up in your chest. God, he was infuriating. You picked up some nails from a desk and tossed them softly against Barnes’ back to catch his attention. 

The man shot up straight, struggling his headphones from his head and face up to you. The temporary panic flaring in his blue eyes, the way his hands clenched to fists... Then he recognized who you were and his posture relaxed, the fear flying out of his expression. 

He breathed out. “Hey.”

Suddenly you were very aware of how you were looking. Messy bun on the top of your head, over-sized sweater that did not accentuate your shape, and small jogging pants that barely covered your butt. Compared to how good Bares was looking while engineering, you felt kind of insignificant. 

But Barnes didn’t look at you like you were insignificant. There was a sparkle in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. “You...” he seemed to have lost his tongue. “Um, you look...”

You pushed your insecurity away and felt rather annoyed with yourself that you allowed this man to throw you off guard. “I look what?”

“Good,” Barnes blurted out. “You look... You look good.” 

Staring at him, you squinted. You were feeling all kinds of feelings, which infuriated you, and you reacted to Barnes the way you wanted to react to your feelings. “Fuck off. What are you doing here anyway?” 

Barnes was blinking. “Oh, um, my arm has been malfunctioning a little lately. Stark wanted to fix it for me, but I figured it was about time to learn how to do it myself. So that’s what I’ve been trying to do.” 

“Can you do it somewhere else?” you demanded rudely. 

“Not really,” Barnes replied, unphased. “I think I need this...” He gestured toward the fiery machinery he had been working with. He proceeded to vaguely repeat the instructions Tony had given him to create a tiny chip that would solve the issues of his metal arm. Within about two seconds of hearing Barnes speak about his unfortunate invention, you realized that he had no idea what he was talking about. 

You sighed tiredly. “You are the dumbest person I have ever met. I can’t even. Move out the way. I’ll do it.” 

Barnes opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but you pushed him out of the way before he could make a noise. Remembering that Barnes had started out willing to do this on his own, you started explaining every little thing you did, including your entire thought process. Barnes listened intently to every word you said, letting out small ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s when he noted where he had gone wrong. It took hours and hours to finish Barnes’ issue, but both of you were patient and focused and time flew as you worked together. As soon as Barnes got the hang of it, you trusted him with the slightly smaller tasks as you multi-tasked and worked on Tony’s project as well. Tony showed up with sandwiches for the three of you at a certain point of time before vanishing under his car again. Barnes set you cups of coffee so that the two of you could continue tinkering with focus.

When Barnes’ new arm was completely finished, you helped attach the thing to his shoulder. He looked extremely uneasy but didn’t let out a single noise of complaint. Once it stuck, he closed his eyes to concentrate and got his fingers to move, explaining it was always a little weird to have this extension of his body. He commented it felt like a good arm, though, and within minutes he was using it as if he had used it his whole life. Somewhat exhausted, the two of you ended up sitting next to each other with your feet up the desk, silent and staring at Barnes’ old arm. It was quite peaceful. A satisfying silence, somehow.

“Alright.” You placed your hands flat on the table and got up. Barnes’ gaze followed your every move. “I’m done,” you grunted, wiping some concentration sweat from your forehead. “Can’t believe I spent so much time on your dumb ass.”

Barnes leaned back in his chair with a smile, studying you as you shook your hair out. His hands were folded in his lap. “Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I know,” you confirmed with a nod. “You couldn’t have. And that’s because you grew up without having electricity. And you’re old.”

Barnes’ face cracked open in a wide grin. “Can’t argue with that. You’re a lot smarter than me anyway, even if I had been born in the same time as you.”

You narrowed your eyes, not trusting these compliments. How was Barnes still nice to you after all the shit you gave him? “Absolutely.”

The man continued smiling, looking straight at you, happy. You didn’t know what to do with yourself or where to hold your hands, his warmth radiating. You cleared your throat. “What time is it anyway?”

Barnes checked his watch. “Eleven past six.”

You blinked. “In the evening?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit,” you cursed, remembering your promise to Steve to join him for a dinner to make his date with his crush Lucie less awkward, “I have a thing. I have to go.”

Barnes moved up from his chair. “Yeah, Y/N, I think—”

“For fuck’s sake, why did I spend so much time with your today?” you busted out, rapidly gathering your things. “Glad I really have to go so I don’t have to waste another minute with you. Have a horrible evening, Barnes!”

“Y/N—” Bucky tried to say, but before he could finish his sentence, you ran out of Tony’s lab. You checked your outfit and realized you were still in short jogging pants and a large sweater—after Sam’s comment of you never looking fancy, you could impossibly show up to the dinner dressed like this. You wanted to prove Sam and Steve wrong and dress up like how you had never dressed up before. And there were two people you knew to be perfect for this job. Therefore, as you were running through the Stark Tower, you texted your two best friends with a code red. And when you finally made it to your own room, you expected nothing less than to find Nat and Wanda waiting impatiently for you on your bed.

Wanda leaped up, looking worried. “What is code red?”

You let all your engineering stuff fall on the floor. “I’m going out for dinner tonight at 7. It’s supposed to be fancy.”

Both Wanda and Nat’s facial expression went from indignance that you were not dying, to absolute excitement. “Does this mean what I think it means?” Nat breathed out. “Are you going to let us dress you up?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes. Don’t be too girly about it.”

But both Wanda and Nat were already squealing like the girliest girls in the world, more than exhilarated that they got to have their girly moments in their lives filled with heavy tasks of being an Avenger. “I’m getting my stuff!” Wanda squeaked, vanishing from the room with a red flash. Nat threw her hands up in the air. “Dresses!” she yelled, and ran out of the room as well. Both of them returned within no time, arms filled with make-up and clothes and a bunch of stuff floating behind them thanks to Wanda’s red magic. “I just realized we only have half an hour!” Wanda was screaming. Nat pushed you, “Wash yourself! Hurry!”

They granted you one minute of showering before pulling you out, throwing a sexy pair of lingerie to you (“You never know where the night goes!”) and then setting you on the bed. Nat held up several outfits for you to judge while Wanda got to work on your make-up and did your hair. Nat selected a little red dress for you that wouldn’t be too revealing. When you put it on, it hugged the curves of your body nicely and made you look way hotter than you thought you actually were. Wanda had finished your face, hair and eyes, with only lips to go, when Nat started yelling: “It’s seven o’clock!”. “LIPSTICK!” Wanda shouted back, which resulted in Nat tossing a deep dark-red lipstick at Wanda and her smearing it somehow perfectly on your lips. They rushed you up in front of the mirror. You were absolutely confused, having gone through the most stressful getting-ready process ever. But when you looked into the mirror, your jaw dropped.

“I look fucking stunning, babes.”

Wanda and Nat cheered. “Yes, you do!”

They showered you with compliments as they led you downstairs to the reception, moving slowly on your heels, despite the time being way past seven. You felt powerful and beautiful, ready to confuse the hell out of Steve and make it a wonderful, hopefully not-so-awkward night. Strolling down the last set of stairs, you spotted Lucie and Steve standing arm in arm. Lucie was wearing an extremely cute, long, dark-blue dress while Steve was dressed up in suit and tie. Once Steve’s eyes fell on you, he choked on his own saliva and his eyes popped out of his skull. “Hot damn, girl!” he called out.

You laughed, throwing your hair back in your neck. “Who says I can’t look fancy, eh?” Wanda and Nat had left you to get to the reception on your own, though you could still hear them whooping and whispering compliments behind you. You cut around the corner, finally having arrived at the reception of the Stark Tower, perhaps a little past seven, but fully dressed in a fancy outfit. And then you saw that it wasn’t just Steve that had dressed up in suit and tie.

Bucky Barnes was dressed up as well, looking immaculate. His face clean, beard and hair well groomed, smelling fresh and sweet, in a pristine suit that made him look even more handsome than usual.

It was the second time today you found him in a place where he wasn’t supposed to be. It was also the second time today you stood gawking at how gorgeous this man was.

Barnes was looking at you with his eyes wide, a flicker shining that you couldn’t quite explain. His lips parted as he looked over your appearance, but he couldn’t quite seem to find his tongue.

Your cocky expression had faded, but you did find your tongue. “The fuck are you doing here?”

Steve immediately came in between the two of you. “It’s a double date, Y/N. I told you this, right?”

You tore your eyes away from Barnes to stare furiously at Steve. “You most certainly did not, Rogers.”

“Well, it is,” Steve forced a smile. He proceeded to wrap his arm around Lucie, who stood nervously eying the situation. “And we are very excited to go on the double date, aren’t we, Lucie?”

Lucie nodded, eyes big. “Yes. You, um, look really beautiful, Y/N.”

Lucie was so very obviously shitting herself that you felt bad for her. You sighed. It mustn’t be an easy position for her, ending up going on a double date with three well-known Avengers. Even though you talked to her all the time and you would consider yourselves somewhat friends, at the very least good acquaintances, it made sense she was still nervous. Were you really going to make this even more nerve-wrecking and miserable for her? Were you that much of a bitch, that just to get across your hatred for Barnes, you would ruin the night from Lucie and Steve?

You took a deep breath. “You look beautiful as well, Lucie.” You eyed Barnes, realizing you were now officially on a date with him. “Let’s go.”

[im-whatchamccallit]

Risking It//Mark Tuan (Got7)

Part 2|Masterlist|Rules

Request: YAY I’M SO EXCITED THAT YOU’RE BACK!! I hope you’ve been well (: I’ve missed you and your writing! May I request a college boyfriend Mark Tuan story! You can write it about whatever you want I just love the idea of Mark as a college boyfriend he gives me those vibes. Please make it fluffy and smutty if you’re feeling adventurous ;) Hahaha thank you so much! Have a wonderful day 😁😁😁

Pairing: Mark Tuan x Reader

Genre: College! AU, fluff but mostly smut (sorry, the hoe in me took over)

Warnings: sexual content (oral sex, fingering, mentions of overstimulation), kinda poorly written because I’m scatterbrained and couldn’t find a perfect concept lol

Words: 3.9k

You bit your bottom lip as you tried to focus on what your professor was saying, writing notes from the words she spoke in fear it’d be on a future pop quiz, but you couldn’t focus with the pair of eyes boring into you. You were trying to ignore Mark but he refused to look away, wanting you to look at him as he sat by idly at your teacher’s desk.

You weren’t sure what to expect when Mark was announced as the TA for your class, but you didn’t expect him to be, well, himself. You figured he’d try to be professional and fair, giving everyone equal amounts of attention and help whenever necessary, instead he’d always find his way to you, cracking jokes and even flirting. You were doing extremely well in this course, not needing the extra help which upset him a bit, so during times when he couldn’t talk to you up close, or text you in case your teacher saw, he’d stare, hoping to have a silent conversation with you to ease his clingy nature. But you weren’t catching on, his lips threatening to form a pout as he looked away.

“Mark.” His head snapped upwards as your professor called him, his body standing as he waited for her instructions.

“Can you hand out the graded test please? They’re on the corner of my desk.” He nodded, mentally cheering as he prepared himself to speak to you for the first time today.

Despite your professor speaking, you tuned her out, watching Mark anxiously as he went to each person, congratulating those that did well and telling others they can retake the test another day to salvage their grades. You were nervous. You weren’t as confident in this test as you were others and the idea of getting anything less than a 100 made you want to cry. You couldn’t even find ease in the way Mark was approaching you, the smile on his face might be because you did well or because he just wanted your attention, your mind screaming for it to be the former.

Mark gently handed you the booklet like test, your eyes immediately landing on the 98 that sat on the top of the front page, the pressured feeling in your chest not leaving even as an audible sigh left your lips while his hand rested on your head, causing your eyes to meet his.

“Good job.” You couldn’t help but give a small smile, finally giving him what he’s been wanting to see all day.

“Professor Ahn,” One girl, Yeeun, spoke up, everyone’s attention falling to her as she stood.

“Considering your TA is the one who graded the test, and is also (Y/n)’s boyfriend, don’t you think there’s a bit of bias on his part?”

The way she looked over at the both of you as if she had won some battle didn’t sit right with you, your eyes narrowing into a glare while Mark only smirked, continuing passing out the test as your professor sighed heavily.

“Ms. Shin, Mr. Tuan made me aware of his relationship with Ms. (Y/L/N) the day he arrived, which is why I personally grade all her test myself. In other words, the score (Y/n) received is not only valid but the only one to reach over 90% in this class, so I suggest you focus on your own grades instead of worrying about those two.” Mark wanted to laugh at the way she sat down in such a defeated state, scowling at the 73 on the paper as if it were a nuisance.

Professor Ahn repeated Mark’s words, reminding everyone that retakes would happen for the next two days during her free periods and after school before officially dismissing everyone, your body moving a bit slower than everyone else so you were left behind, Professor Ahn heading into her personal office just behind her desk while you approached Mark, his face in a cute pout.

“You didn’t look at me today.”

“I was nervous.” You responded, reaching to cup his face before bringing him into a soft kiss, pulling away before he could take it any further.

“What’s your next class?” He asked, reaching for your hand to lead you out of the room.

“I’m actually done for the day. And, I know you’re free too, so I figured we could just hang out.” The look you gave was hinting to something that could only spell trouble, yet he was hoping it was exactly what he was thinking, his lips forming a smirk as he stepped closer to you.

“Alright, and just where are we heading exactly?”

“I’ll give you a hint; we’ll be at my place, in my room, on a desk.” He didn’t waste a second dragging you down the busy halls, that hint more than clear for him to understand.

Yet he didn’t understand. Well, it was more like you tricked him.

By ‘on a desk’, he was hoping for something with you laid out beneath him with a lot less clothing involved and more x-rated touching. Instead, you were still in the baby pink high waist skirt and white sweater you wore for class earlier, the once seemingly normal and innocent outfit driving him crazy now, the only touching he received were pokes to the temple of his head whenever he read a question from your graded test unenthusiastically, obviously bummed by how the situation turned out. To think not scoring a perfect 100 would bother you so much that you’d make him study with you until you were ready to retake the test.

“Come on, the faster we do this, the faster I can learn what I got wrong.”

“(Y/n), you don’t need to retake the test. You have the highest score of your class, professor Ahn said so.”

“Yeah but what if someone retakes it and does better than me?”

Mark sighed, knowing how stubborn you were when it came to your grades, but he didn’t like the competitive side of you that came with it. He admired your persistence, but watching you drive yourself crazy over something so miniscule was heartbreaking, like when your calculus 3 teacher refused to let you retake his quiz and you couldn’t do anything but cry for days because that was your hardest class and you knew you could do better. But how could he force you out of a habit that he admittedly fell in love with? It was a complete contradiction.

“(Y/n),” you shifted your gaze from the notes and test in front of you to look at him.

“What are three cyanobacterial species?” Your eyes wandered from him, so many words crossed your mind, trying to find the right answers to the sudden question.

“Nostoc commune, nostoc punctiforme, and nodularia spumigena… I think.” You said slowly, watching Mark pull the packet open and flip to the third page, showing you the exact question he asked, an ‘X’ right next to your answer.

“The reason you didn’t get a perfect score is because you missed this one question. You didn’t get it right because you’re always freaking out. But now that you know the answer, and know that you always panic at the idea of not doing well; do you think it’s wise to retake the test and aim for a 100, only to possibly freak out again and end up with the same score or worse?”

You wanted to argue with his logic but it was reasonable, and he was right. You were freaking out for nothing and were honestly surprised you hadn’t dropped dead from all the stress you had, wanting to laugh at how ridiculous you’d been. Mark noticed you staring off into space, probably still scolding yourself like you always do. He didn’t mean to kill your confidence, but what else could he do to make you snap out of your “no mistakes allowed” tunnel vision?

“Baby,” He called, your eyes finding him once more, noticing his arms open and waiting for you to settle into his lap, which you did without hesitation, his hands cupping your face so you couldn’t look away.

“I know you’re smart, and that you could get a perfect score if you tried harder, but you can’t always push yourself like this. It’s okay to not be the best and, sometimes, you’ll learn there are people out there that are the best of the best and you can’t compare.” He said, your lips curling upwards as you released a giggle.

“That was such a backhand compliment.” His laughter mixed with your own, hands easing from your face into your hair.

“Yeah, I could’ve worded that better, but you need to relax. Stressing yourself out won’t make you perfect. Okay?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling a little disparaged but knowing he meant well, truly worried for you and rightfully so. You were a hard ass, you knew that and just couldn’t help it. Maybe that’s why you loved Mark, he was responsible yet relaxed. He had it all figured out and, even when he didn’t, he was nonchalant until he did. It was one of the traits you wish you could take from him and have for yourself.

“Okay, then show me what I should do to relax.” You said, a smirk similar to the one you gave earlier on your lips, his finger darting out to poke you in the center of your forehead, a stern look on his face.

“I should just leave and make you take a nap for tricking me into studying with you. But I have manners, so get on the bed.”

You eagerly climbed out of his lap and followed his orders, removing your top on your way there, not wanting to waste any more time. As you watched him approach you with his eyes taking you in hungrily, you couldn’t help but think of the position you were in.

He’d be busy for the next two days helping students from Professor Ahn’s four classes retake their test. Her other three classes held 60 or so students, a little over double the amount of your class, and the likelihood of everyone from the other classes failing was damn near impossible, but her course was hard so it’s a good possibility almost half the class would want a retake, and thinking of potential students from your own class doing the same, that’d mean Mark and Professor Ahn would have roughly 110 test to grade by the end of the two days. Even if they split the grading load in half, Mark would be busy days later helping her while simultaneously maintaining his own grades, meaning the two day period you thought nothing of would really be four to five days of barely being together, so you were going to bask in this moment.

“(Y/n/n),” Mark called, gaining your attention.

Your eyes darted towards him and noticed he was between your legs, face close to your heat that was now exposed as he tossed your panties away not too long ago, your skirt bunched around your waist as he patiently waited for you to answer, hoping you weren’t uncomfortable and suddenly having second thoughts.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. I just realized it’ll be a few days before we can be like this again.” You admitted, unconsciously placing your hand in his hair and stroking it softly. It was still pretty soft despite bleaching and dying it so many times.

“Think about it this way,” He started, placing a small kiss to your inner thigh, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you tried to resist the urge to close them, his lips ticking your skin as he continued moving closer to your core.

“Everything I do today is a precursor for the next time I come over.”

You wanted to make a snide remark to keep your banter going, but the way his lips finally connected with your folds made your head spin, any thoughts you had were gone as the foreign yet very familiar and dearly missed pleasure hit you. You can’t remember the last time Mark went down on you, your schedules leaving the both of you available for only quickies in unoccupied classrooms just to make it to your next class on time. But taking the time to go slow and actually savor the pleasure was making the experience a million times better, any memory you had of his tongue being buried within you was replaced with this moment, his tongue taking it’s time to taste you as if you were the best meal in the world.

“Mark,” You breathed out, his head moving back just slightly so his tongue was visible, your eyes locked on the way he teasingly flicked it around your opening while staring straight at you, expertly dragging the pink muscle up to your clit before covering it completely with his lips sucking harshly so that you cried out.

He knew exactly what he was doing and what buttons to push, taking two fingers and rubbing them along your slit to lubricate them before easily sliding them inside, your body nearly jumping away at the feeling. He felt you contract around him, surprised that you might already be so close considering he just started, but that only encouraged him more, his mind running with the thoughts of exactly how long he could make this last and how cute you’d be once you were completely spent from him actions.

You were gripping onto Mark’s hair desperately as your other hand held onto your pillow for dear life, your back arching at the familiar motions of his fingers, simultaneously thrusting into you while drumming against your g-spot, sending small waves of gratification through you. Those little jolts were enough to distract you from Mark moving up your body, kissing from your belly button to your bra cladded breast, his free hand slipping beneath it easily to toy with your nipples, already so hard despite the fact he had only begun stimulating them.

You struggled to crack your eyes open, looking at the man above you as a breathy whine interrupted your seemingly endless moans. His eyes were concentrating on each contorted muscle of your face before finding your eyes, smiling softly at you as if he wasn’t pinching and rubbing at your breast while using his fingers to scissor your pussy. Any words you wanted to say came out almost like squeaks, your hands speaking for you as they moved to his chest, slowly trailing down until they reached the slowly growing, but clearly there, bulge in his black jeans.

He watched in amusement as you impatiently undid his pants, tapping his thumb on your clit to watch you freeze momentarily in an attempt to regain your composure. He was like a sadist but the humane kind. Mark couldn’t help the groan he let out once your hand slipped into his boxers, wasting no time stroking his member at the same pace his fingers moved into you, his eyes squeezing shut as his face dipped into your neck, teeth sinking into your shoulder to control himself from going any further. The juices you let out were making such lewd sounds, and the harder his thumb rubbed against the sensitive nerves just above your entrance, the more your hips rolled into his hands and your walls tightened around him, actual words finally leaving you as you let out a soft ‘please’. It was all becoming too much for him, but he didn’t want to give in just yet.

“Mark,” You called out to him again, his head finally lifting to look at your face. Even though your eyes could barely stay open, your lips trembling as you whimpered pathetically and your breathing labored, you looked amazing.

“What’s wrong?” He asked gently, slowly bringing his fingers to a stop to allow you to speak, the bubble of pleasure you felt fading away.

“I want more. Please.” You continued to pump his cock from inside his briefs, the urge to fuck himself into your hand hard to ignore as your thumb played with the beads of precum leaking from his tip, your hand working faster knowing he was so close to giving you what you wanted.

Instead, he reached between your bodies to grab your wrist, reluctantly pulling it away from his throbbing and needy member and bringing it up to examine it, precum visibly sticking to your thumb and palm.

“I’ll give you everything you want, but you have to be patient.” He warned you, reaching for the hand resting on his chest to bring them above your head, holding them in place so that he could get back to his main objective.

You wanted to scream as he began to move his fingers again, not starting off slow like he usually would but going knuckles deep, his thumb now finding a good pace on your clit as well. It was clear he was trying to get you off first. It wasn’t uncommon for him to let you get your release before him, but this felt different, weird even. He was rough but precise, your g-spot being hit no matter how deep and fast his appendages plunged into you. And the pressure on your clit wasn’t helping either, only making the strange feeling increase.

Your back arched as you moaned loudly, unsure if your roommate was even home but you couldn’t care less about that now, your legs kicking against the bed as if you wanted to escape the way his hand was fucking you but so curious where this feeling was leading and just how good it’d feel. Mark’s cock twitched at the sight of you, every time your hips lifted from the bed he’d see a wet spot forming from the juices dripping from your cunt and his hand, making it obvious that you came already but he wanted to see you orgasm, knowing you were close as you incoherently cried out, begging for him as your thighs clenched together in an attempt to slow him down even though you didn’t want him to stop.

“Look at me.” He said in a soft voice yet stern enough to remind you it was a demand.

You shyly faced him, vision hazy as you focused on his features. You felt his hand leave your wrist before creeping down to comb through your hair, easing to the back of your head and pulling you into him, bringing your lips to his to capture every sound you made. If it wasn’t the way his hand continued to assault your core as it convulsed violently, or the way his teeth nipped at your bottom lip in the middle of your heated make out session, or even the way he pulled away to speak filthy words to you to encourage your release, the thin line of self-control and submission you were walking was gone, your body falling fast and hard into the latter.

Mark’s fingers dug into your scalp to hold you in place, a few moans escaping his throat as you clenched around his digits, pleasured cries falling into his mouth as you no longer focused on your kiss. Your lower half jerked almost painfully, his fingers slowly moving into you to draw out your release, his face pulling away as he felt a bead of your orgasm rolling down his fingers and palm and onto his wrist, the once small wet spot now a puddle beneath your body, your fluids leaving the room and sheets a distinctly sweet smell.

You shut your eyes in relief as Mark finally pulled his hand away, trying to catch your breath as he moved from the bed. You could feel the stickiness on you, your thighs closing to keep the cool air from hitting your sensitive core, the sound of your skin pulling from the sheets making you cringe. No wonder it felt so weird, you squirted for the first time ever and, now, your mattress was ruined. You were contemplating if you should just rest now in your own filthy release or properly clean everything, not having time to form an answer as Mark climbed above you, instantly connecting his lips to the shell of your ear and your neck. You turned to look at him, noticing his pants and boxers were off, his rock hard dick on display between your bodies.

“W-wait, I don’t think I can do that again.” You admitted, your face hot at the thought of being overstimulated, Mark’s gaze meeting yours. His eyes were so dark and clouded, your core unwillingly pulsating again with arousal despite your words.

“If you need me to stop, I’ll stop. I did promise to give you whatever you want earlier.”

The room fell silent as he waited for your answer, your eyes looking away in embarrassment as you opened your legs for him, cursing yourself for being so needy despite what happened only a few seconds ago. Mark smirked and placed a gentle kiss to your cheek, easing his body forward until he was poking at your entrance, preparing to thrust into you but not before he spoke in a definite tone.

“I’m going to make sure you’re too tired to think about the retest and, if I even see you going to take it, we’ll do this all over again.”

And it was a promise. You knew Mark never bluffed, especially when it came to sexual rewards and punishments, so you could do nothing but take those words to heart. Although the next day, after dragging your sore body from the soaked bed you both were too exhausted to flip, and getting ready as normal, you crept your way towards Professor Ahn’s class.

It was her second free period of the day and currently Mark’s accounting class, meaning there would be fewer students there for the retest and he would be out of sight and out of mind. You slowly crept into her classroom, looking to the twelve or so students working silently, Professor Ahn nowhere to be found.

You knew she’d never leave a class unsupervised during a test, so she was most likely watching from her office to see who would or wouldn’t cheat. She was clever that way so it only made sense.

You eagerly headed to the door, knocking gently before hearing an uninterested ‘enter’.

“Sorry for disturbing you Professor Ahn, but I was hoping I could do the retest to-“ You froze.

Professor Ahn and Mark’s eyes left the test and answer sheets around them to stare at you. During her first free period, over sixty students came, leaving your professor overwhelmed at how much grading she’d have to do if she waited until the last minute, her first instinct was to call her TA in for help which he easily accepted, knowing that missing one class wouldn’t hurt him. So the two sat in the once comfortable silence, grading roughly thirty test each. You thought you had it all figured out but didn’t plan for a random setback like this, and neither did Mark, his eyes boring into yours despite you trying to avoid his gaze.

“You were planning to do the retest, (Y/n)?” Professor Ahn spoke up, dropping her red pen and searching for a clean copy of the test from the folder next to her, your eyes widening as you frantically shook your head.

“No! No, it was nothing. I’m sorry for stopping by like this.” You said, preparing to leave but the call of your name from an eerily calm source made you stop, an inaudible whimper leaving you as you turned back to your boyfriend, a seemingly sweet but truly sinister smile on his lips.

“I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

You were fucked, pun intended.

[gh0st-patr0l]

[/rp]

Okay I need to talk about Phil for a minute. Specifically, how shit of a dad he’s been

Like, just to clarify up top; his two Canon kids are Wilbur and Tommy (Tommy could be argued non-canon, since he only referred to Phil as his dad once, but I’m writing this on the assumption that even if Tommy isn’t really his kid, they definitely have a father/son dynamic and Tommy looks to him as a guiding figure in his life, and Phil is aware of this. I’m also gonna include Tubbo under that latter option, since Phil mentioned him being a part of the family, and they were pretty close in-character)

I think my main thing is that he’s pretty much... given up on all of his kids.

I think the best example is how today went. First of all, Tommy? Phil’s long since stopped trying to help him. He was one of the only characters who knew, via Techno, that Tommy was in exile and how to find him, and truly never bothered visiting. He calls Tommy stupid for clinging to the country he and Wilbur built despite its flaws and his penchant for war, ignoring where those behaviors might have spurred from. He doesn’t at any point even Try to understand why Tommy acts the way he does, or any of his trauma or the pain he’s been through. If SMP Earth is canon, then Phil KNOWS and contributed to the fact that all Tommy has seen as he’s grown is war, violence, and conflict, yet somehow expects him to know better than to perpetuate those things. 

This extends to Tubbo, to- he treats Tubbo like a villain, like he deserves what’s coming to him. Despite knowing Tubbo, seeing the stress he’s under, knowing that this was a child shoved into a position of power that he never asked for with the responsibility of a failing nation on his shoulders. Even before the house arrest incident- the lack of sympathy or effort is honestly astounding.

Then Wilbur! Or, more accurately, Ghostbur. His interactions with Ghostbur were honestly the only ones to truly leave me Mad at his character. Like, he tells Ghostbur that he’s teaching him a lesson, that he’ll understand... but he can’t. Ghostbur can’t understand, because he’s not Wilbur. He doesn’t have those memories or experiences. He didn’t even do any of the things that Phil is punishing him for! It was torment without reason, and Phil clearly either doesn’t understand that or doesn’t care. I personally think this may be Phil being unable to accept that Wilbur is gone, and just trying to pretend that Ghostbur is the same, but that really doesn’t make it better.

I think, in character, this does have a sensible explanation. When he joined the server, he was forced to kill Wilbur. This clearly left a mark on him, emotionally, and I think he responded by... closing off, essentially, to most of the other kids in his life that he felt were going in the same direction as Wil. He retreated fully- the only relationship he fully committed to was Techno, because he knew that Techno would never let himself be torn apart like Wilbur, Tommy, and Tubbo had been.

So yes, I think the way he’s behaved makes total sense! But... it’s still not good.

What he’s done with Techno, and what I believe he’s clearly starting to do with Ranboo, is redirect his attention and care towards other people who feel like a safer bet, so to speak. Kids who aren’t already so far gone. But that’s not what a parent is supposed to do. You don’t screw up with your kids, give up, and just get new ones. That’s... not how it works. At all.

Instead of reaching out, trying to help or guide Tommy and Tubbo and Ghostbur, his response has been to leave them behind. To give up and let them struggle, telling himself that they’ll figure it out on their own. And his participation in the Doomsday? His claims that this was a lesson? Honestly upsetting. He saw destroying everything the boys cared about, everything they had been fighting and putting themselves through to keep, as a lesson. As a hard knock back onto the right path. When in reality, while it may have technically been good, only hurt them more deeply and put them in a more desperate situation, which could very well lead to their self-destruction. And again, he either doesn’t understand, or he doesn’t care.

Like don’t get me wrong! Phil’s character has some good ideals, and I think his heart, in a lot of the time, Is in the right place. But when it comes to his kids? His decisions about who’s worth caring about or not? He’s a shit fuckin’ dad, dude