#someone liked my art from two years ago of the daze

[backmusician]

August 15

[drmaddict]

My best friends brother is... a cliche thing to do (modern!AU)

Summary: (Y/n) is Aegons best friend. Yet she has a thing for his brother Aemond. Somehow the three of them make it work.

Wordcount: 2.687

"AEMOND?", shouted Aegon in shock.

"I was really drunk, okay?", sighed (Y/n). She would like to forget everything. By the gods, it had only been a kiss. A drunken kiss. But she didn't want to forget that kiss. She didn't want to forget the hands, that had felt so warm on her back. But Aemond was out of her reach. He was... She wasn't good enough. Absolutely mediocre at everything. Aemond was stubborn. So stubborn that he had made something of himself. Law student. Top of his class. Black belt in some martial art she couldn't pronounce.

Aegon nudged her. "Why are you looking so sad?", he asked with a slight pout on his lips.

She wiped her face. "I don't know either. Hormones?"

"You like him.", he said sulkily and plopped down next to her on the steps of the entrance hall.

She sighed. "I think, I just like the version of me, I imagine at his side.", she mused aloud.

Aegon sighed in annoyance. "No, you fancy him. Don't make everything more complicated than it is."

He picked at one of the cigarette butts lying around from last night.

(Y/n) reached for it and through it away. Aegon looked after it.

"Even if I did. He's got a girlfriend anyway.", she muttered.

"They broke up two months ago.", Aegon clarified. "I mean... You could have someone far better.", he stated. "FAR better... But... Argh! By the gods, just ask him."

She looked at him, dazed. "Would that be... okay for you. You're my best friend and I don't want anything like that-"

"I'll be fine.", he interrupted her immediately. "But you have to promise me that Blaspheme Gosip Friday will still be our day.", he sulked.

"With mocktails and everything.", she mumbled and put an arm round his back.

"And Barbie films.", he nodded.

She nodded with a grin and rested her head on his shoulder.

"He'll probably just laugh at me anyway and everything will stay the same."

Aegon let out a loud snort. "He sighed your name,  when he jerked off. Don't worry about it."

(Y/n) furrowed her eyebrows. "And how would you know that?"

Aegon was still chuckling. "There's another old air vent here. I hear everything from his room." He turned to her with a grin. "He listens to Dolly Parton." You'd think his cheek muscles were about to tear, the grin on his face was so big.

(Y/n) grinned. "All metalheads listen to Dolly. She's an icon."

"You listen to Dolly Parton?"

"It's Dolly.", she stated, as if she couldn't believe the question was really being asked.

Aegon just shook his head. "All right... How long have you fancied him?"

She pressed her lips together.

"(Y/n)?"

"Since we were like... You remember when he came back from that martial arts camp?"

"That... That... Since you were THIRTEEN? Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She wrapped her arms around her legs and hugged her knees to her chest. "Because we were such good friends and I didn't have many friends. Besides... I liked him more or less. When he was... He was pretty mean for a while. I thought he was arrogant then and tried to block it all out, but later... The last two or three years... well, it just came back. And last year... You went to rehab and... I didn't know, who to call when my ex just left me in the middle of nowhere and Aemond picked me up... I don't know. He was so nice and somehow the new short hair looked so good on him and... Never mind. A week later he introduced everyone to his new girlfriend... I don't know. I'm going to get another coffee."

She stood up, turned round towards the entrance and stopped abruptly. She wanted to drop dead. A bewildered-looking Aemond stood in the doorway.

"What is it?", Aegon asked, turning round as well. "Ohhhh..." He cleared his throat. "Have fun."

He stood up quickly. He briefly stroked (Y/n)'s back and punched Aemond in the shoulder as he passed.

Both of them, now alone, just stared at each other.

"Morning.", (Y/n) began far too quickly.

Aemond nodded. "Morning.", he replied curtly. He straightened up.

"How... How long have you been standing there?", she asked uncertainly.

"Since... Dolly.", he admitted, looking past her with flushed cheeks.

She nodded. "She's a cool woman."

"Does a lot of charity work.", nodded Aemond.

"Built a library.", (Y/n) agreed.

Aemond breathed a sigh of relief. "I was with Alys for quite a while back then.", he said curtly. "We were both freaks. It was a good fit."

"And now you're not?"

He shook his head. "She was... I was distracted and she found someone else."

"I'm sorry about that."

"It was only a matter of time."

They lapsed into silence again. Aemond was about to hint at going back into the house, when Aegon stepped out again, annoyed.

"For Fucks sake.", he groaned. "You've both more than clearly heard, that you want each other. You made out so much yesterday, that (Y/n)'s lips are almost falling off today and you still can't get it right? Are you fucking kidding-" He interrupted himself and took a dramatic breath. "You guys go upstairs now and fuck like hell." With that, he turned round and went back into the house. "And gods be good if don't I hear anything! Make an effort, little brother."

They both looked after him in bewilderment.

"How about breakfast first?", she asked cautiously.

Aemond nodded. "I'll get changed and get the car keys.", he said quickly and disappeared.

6 months later

The door to Aemond's room was pushed open. "It's Friday. I got her to...day... Wow."

(Y/n) immediately threw a blanket over them both, but it didn't help to hide the leather band around Aemond's neck, on whose ring she was currently holding him.

"Aegon!" she shouted angrily.

He just grinned. He looked at the two of them with as much joy, as if he were a child in a toy shop with a black american express.

(Y/n) stood up, albeit naked, and pushed Aegon out of the room. "I'll come in a moment."

"Oho. One of you two is definitely coming-"

She slammed the door shut. Aemond was lying on the bed, resigned but with his head held high.

His eye was closed and he breathed in and out in a controlled manner.

(Y/n) sat down carefully next to him and ran her fingers through his hair. He buried his face against the side of her thigh and breathed in her scent.

"Shit.", he mumbled choked.

"Everythings good. He-"

Aemond wrapped his arms around her stomach and pulled himself closer to her. She understood immediately. "Shhh." She brushed the tears from his face.

Normally, they had time to bring him slowly out of their world. He had never been ripped out of it as quickly and abruptly as today. "I'm here.", she whispered. Her hands ran soothingly over his back. And his head.

They heard a knock at the door. "We need a little longer. I'll be come, when we're done.", she called through the door.

Surprisingly, there was really no more interruption.

She stayed with him, until he had fallen asleep. She gently kissed his forehead and tucked the blanket around him.

She got dressed and quietly slipped out of the room.

Aegon found her in the kitchen. "I had two more hours.", she grumbled.

"Sorry.", he smirked, but immediately became surprisingly serious. "He dropped because of me, didn't he?", he asked quietly.

(Y/n) nodded. "Please leave him alone about it.", she begged him.

"Hey, you know I've already been whipped black and blue."

"And you hated it. You should check out the doms, before you let them get to you."

Aegon nodded. "Speaking of which. I met someone.", he muttered sheepishly.

"Really?", she asked, surprised. He hadn't said anything.

Aegon nodded. "His name's Cregan. Takes me seriously and all." He bit into a biscuit. "And he... He doesn't whip me, he rewards me. Remembers how I drink my coffee and shit... And bends me into a pretzel. The man is like a bear. I'm telling you.", he grinned.

"Your first soft-dom.", she smirked.

Aegon sighed. "And hopefully my last. He's great... I hope it stays that way."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed."

"Thanks."

He pushed a coffee towards her. "Do you want to be with him, until he wakes up."

"Honestly, I do.", she confessed.

"Good. I always hate it, when I wake up alone.", he mumbled.

She rubbed his shoulder.

"But we'll go out for brunch tomorrow.", he decided.

"Where they have those cheese bagles?"

"Where else?", he grinned.

She nodded with a smile. "Okay."

She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a snack bar and made her way back to Aemond. She just smirked when she heard Aegon's "You guys and your stupid water."

Back in the room, she snuggled up next to Aemond and ran her fingers through his hair again. His eyes fluttered open.

"Hey.", she smiled at him.

He just grumbled and buried his face against her stomach again. "How long?", he mumbled under his breath.

"As long as you need and want.", she explained.

"Is he laughing?"

"No. He understands."

"Sure.", he replied sarcastically.

She just held him as she continued speaking. "Aegon's approached a number of doms in the past. Had more bad experiences than good. He gets it." She kissed the top of his head. "A joke or two and he should he done."

Aemond hummed, but continued to bury himself against her belly. She hummed softly a song she'd heard in the morning.

"Love you." Aemond murmured at one point, so softly that she almost couldn't hear him.

She looked at him in surprise. He had literally squeezed his eye shut. His shoulders were tense. They hadn't said it often yet.

"Love you, too", she whispered back.

His body relaxed immediately. His breath left his lungs almost in relief. It was as if he expected her to laugh at him every time and explain that it had all been a cruel joke.

She stroked his collar. He trembled slightly under her touch. "Do you want to take it off?", she asked cautiously.

He shook his head. "Not yet.", he sighed.

When it came to his collar, he was like a cat that needed to go to the vet. First he made a show of putting it on and then it was almost impossible to get him out. It grounded him. It calmed him down. But some days he almost tore it off himself with the thought that he wasn't a real man, if he liked such things.

"You let me know.", she whispered.

Their relationship had grown insanely fast. She didn't know if it was because they had known each other for most of their lives or if it was just a good fit between them.

Both Aemond and Aegon had to get used to the new situation. It hadn't exactly been easy to convince Aegon that she wouldn't just throw him away like the old toy, while she tried to show Aemond that she really wanted to spend time with him and have this relationship.

It got to the point where Aegon just threw himself on the couch with her on one of their first little dates and commented on the film that was playing.

They had a very long and, for Aegon, very emotional conversation that evening that she really wouldn't forget him. They were still in the middle of the conversation when Aemond had plonked a weekly schedule on the table and started writing in their appointments and allocating Aemond-time and Aegon-time.

"Here.", he had simply hummed and sent Aegon a photo of the plan. "Can we please be alone now?"

Their routine levelled out and the two became calmer.

Aemond opened up to her more and she showed him the sides, some of which not even Aegon knew.

For example, her preference for having competent men whimpering beneath her.

They lay in bed until late in the evening. They dozed, cuddled and talked about all sorts of things until Aemond was completely grounded again.

(Y/n) was already sitting in the café when Aegon joined her. He grimaced as he sat down. "Holy-", he hissed softly, then put on a bright smile again.

"Hi." he said cheerfully.

She grinned. "Cregan?" she asked, amused.

Aegon looked dreamily at the cup of coffee she had already ordered for him. "I think I'm in love."

She grinned. "Shall I book something for the wedding?"

"You're going to be my maid of honour."

"Not Aemond?"

He shook his head. "How did it go with him?", he asked the counter question.

"Quiet evening." she simply shrugged her shoulders.

"Good... I'm sorry, by the way."

"Just knock next time, okay?"

"Okay.", he smiled. Suddenly his gaze settled on something behind her. "Holy-" He reached for her hand. "Margret Waters!", he whispered.

(Y/n) immediately turned round. Margret had tormented both (Y/n) and Aegon when they were still in middle school, and not just once.

"That's... A lot of lip filler.", she realised.

"That's a lot of filler everywhere.", Aegon clarified. "Her face is twice as wide as it used to be."

"And yet you can still recognise her. That's strange."

"It's the aura of absolute evil.", he stated. "And that comes from me."

She grinned. "Is that?"

"Aaron the arse cramp. Yes.", Aegon grumbled. Aaron had involuntarily outed him in front of everyone.

"Get your impotent arse over here.", they heard Margret say.

"For fucks sake!", Aaron hissed at her. "With your facial goulash, don't be surprised that no one can get it up with you."

Aegon beamed. "I think I'm very happy right now."

(Y/n) shook her head with a grin, as a pale hand placed something next to her.

They both looked up and saw Aemond.

"Forgot your wallet.", he muttered. He looked at Aegon. "You want to get it out now?"

Aegon just shook his head. "My arse is too sore for that." Aemond grimaced, but Aegon went straight on. "Besides, I've just found something much better, than your little, spicy necklace.", he explained, nodding in the direction of the couple, who were still arguing

Aemond looked at the two. "Is that Margret Waters?"

"Yup."

"What's she done to her face?"

The two squabblers realised they were being watched.

"What?", Margret nagged.

Aemond didn't even flinch. He simply raised his hand. "Margret... Aaron. How did it go after the LSD trial? Still having problems?", he asked impassively, glancing briefly at his crotch.

Aaron's look could have killed.

"I hope your delicate flower here was worth the compensation."

Aemond approached him menacingly. "Do you really think you can mess with my family, without paying for it?" he whispered. Aaron looked at him in amazement.

"Get out of here.", Aemond hissed.

"Come on. Get away from this madman." Aaron tugged on Margret's hand, who allowed herself to be pulled along in annoyance.

Aemond turned back to the two of them. "I'm off already.", he nodded.

"Wait!", Aegon said, pointing to the seat next to (Y/n).

"What exactly did you do with Aaron?", Aegon asked uncertainly.

Aemond just shrugged his shoulders. "I helped supervise the study he took part in for a little cash. I remembered him and what he said about you. That you're only good for getting your arse fucked. I might have added some subliminal messages to the music file that was playing in the background... They really tak a hold with LSD." He pursed his lips in amusement. "It seems to me he hasn't figured out what he needs to do to get his favourite toy working again.", he explained impassively.

"Sometimes you really scare me, brother."

He waved him off, but looked cautiously out of the corner of his eye at (Y/n), not knowing what she would think.

But she only reached for his hand. "You're a softy after all.", she smiled.

"Don't tell anyone.", he grumbled and let her give him a quick kiss.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Instinct

Pairing: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN Reader

Word Count: 1978

Summary: Like any other day, it's training day. You start in the early morning before the sweltering heat gets too much for you feeble body. This was like the other days: failing to pin the Yautja. So Gawtin gives you some motivation to help you.

Author Note: I love her so much. I want to write some more lesbian stuff but also work on a different first. Gotta get my life into shape first if I'm going to do anything.

Masterlist

Ao3

All the air within your lungs was forced out, harshly. A bo-staff shoved into your chest. You were unable to do anything, still in shock at what happened and trying to regain the lost oxygen. Someone above you said something at you, the alien language lost to you. All you could do was stare dazed up at the sky.

A large shadow passed over you, blocking out the harsh Yautja Prime sun. The bo-staff no longer was pressed into your skin. Green flashed in your vision, a hand coming down patting your cheek. You made a noise of complaint and pushed it away. “Ooman, up. We are not done,” a familiar voice stated and patted you again.

The headache growing wasn’t helped with her actions. You grasped her wrist and pulled with what strength you had at that moment. Gawtin did not move a single centimeter. One of her brows quirked up. A silent ‘really’ passing from her. You huffed before sitting up, back of your hand swiping away at the sweat building on your forehead.

Gawtin watched as you did, standing tall to the side with the wooden bo-staff in her large hands. Over the course of the day, you’ve improved with little breaks in between. The air was different compared to your planet but your body has adapted well to it after two years. In general, you’ve adapted well to the environment, including your Yautja mate.

Said being rested a hand on your shoulder after you got back to feet. “Breath and take a break. We’ll resume shortly,” she said with a calm voice and stepped over to where you had a water hide. One she created for you. Gawtin picked it up and offered it you.

There was a gentle smile on your features as you stepped out of the sunlight. Your skin already turning pink in the short time within it. Gawtin didn’t mean to force you out into the light. A soothing bath will be required after this. You were doing so good for her. “Thank you, love.” You took the bag from her and poured fresh, lukewarm water into your mouth. One thing you would have to complain, no ice or cool drink safe for you. Again, you’ve adapted though. You swallowed greedily at the pouch before setting it down back in its place.

Your Yautja chuffed and stepped into your personal space. You took a chance and leaned into her overly warm body. It was uncomfortably hot but you didn’t care. That’s what happens when you loved someone. Her hand came up to rest on the top of your head. “You are doing great, artful one. You are learning well to wield something bigger than a pencil,” she teased. You used the back of your hand to smack at you stomach.

“You didn’t say that when I used the strap-on on you, love,” you returned fire, hiding your face from embarrassment. “I feel like I wielded that well.”

Her body tensed against yours, claws biting into your scalp. “There are children present,” she mutter as she bent down so her mouth was close to your ear.

Off to the side, Qui’oky sat playing with a couple of wooden toys. He was completely oblivious to what his mother and mate were doing. “You didn’t care about that two nights ago,” you jester again. At this point, you were digging your own grave deeper and deeper. But oh well. If it’s her that kills you, then it shall be.

A snarl rolled throughout her entire body, sending vibrations to yours. Uh oh. You’re in it now. She let her free arm slither around your waist and pulled you to her body. You giggled though and was able to pull away from her. “Come on, lover. We aren’t done yet.” Teasing Gawtin was always fun. Sometimes, it would surprise her enough that she doesn’t know what to do in reaction. Such a strong, sturdy, immoveable creature… until it came to you. You’re hers.

You stepped back into the invisible ring, a twinkle in your eyes. The Yautja watched you closely; your hips swaying. Then, you bent over and swiped the shorter bo-staff off of the ground. Yet, you were slow to rise. Gawtin tensed her jaw before marching over to the ring. This whole day, you’ve been testing her, winding her up. A bow string can only take so much.

Paya, the way you moved as her purple eyes watched with rapture… She felt young again. The new blood rushing through her veins, ready to pounce on you. Her years though have taught patience. She’ll get her chance. All she has to do was wait.

As the two of you stood across from each other in the ring, you attempted to show off. The wooden bo-staff twirled amateurly within your grasp. One late hand movement caused the weapon to leave your grasp. Fuck! You were swift to snatch it back but heavy footfalls had your head snapping up.

All in her goddess, five-hundred pound glory was Gawtin sprinting at you. The ring wasn’t big since it had trees growing within to block out the raging sun. You yelped and brough up the bo-staff. Any later, you would’ve been pinned to the ground like prey.

Gawtin’s wooden weapon bashed into yours with half of her strength. Yet, it was enough to make your muscles ache the moment it happened. Your bones jarred in their places as you struggled to hold her back. The weapon was starting to bend, causing spikes of fear to race through you. You and your big mouth!

This was sparring, of course. The love of your life wasn’t going to seriously injure you. That doesn’t mean she won’t push you past your limits, something she liked to test with consent.

The bo-staff’s pressure was pulled off. You weren’t safe though. It curved edge whistled through the air as it came straight for you. There wasn’t enough time.

It smashed into your open side. You gasped at the sudden pain yet clenched your teeth, not doubling over. Gawtin has taught you it’s okay to be in pain but don’t let it stop you. Push past it. Your own stick was finally brought up to deflect one of hers. But, it was like she could read your mind.

Her leg stuck out and swiped out your own from underneath you. Same position. The breath knocked out of you. Bo-staff poking into your upper torso as Gawtin stared down at you. A new, serious look in her eyes. “What have I told you about listening to your gut more? It is smart. Do it,” she demanded then let the staff’s end rest by her feet.

You’re allowed to get back to your feet in a timely manner. Once you do, you sighed and rolled your shoulders. Your hand rubbed at the back of your head. A possible bump was probably going to rise later in the day. You used a foot roll your staff back and picked it up. You stared down at the weapon in hand before curling your fingers around it. Listen to your instincts. If Gawtin believes in you, then that means you can do it.

A deep breath filled your lungs before releasing it, gaze now set on the tall Yautja. She returned with the same look, a fire within them. You lowered yourself into a fighting position. Gawtin did the same. But, you didn’t let her strike first. That would be giving her power, the advantage. The last thing you wanted to do. Like she’s told you time and time again, use her size and weight against her. Come on, you can do this!

The staff in hand whooshed through the air, aimed for the tender spot of her ribs. Gawtin raised an eyebrow as she used the palm of her hand to stop it from touching its designation. Aw shit, here we go again. You tried pull it back from Gawtin put she just twisted it and it was hers. She discarded it to the side.

Your eyes were scanning the surrounding area for anything useful. Only thing nearby was Qui’oky. The little guy wasn’t going to help you. He’s a momma boys. You gritted your teeth and dodged out of the way of her weapon. It bounced against the dirt ground next to you. Miss.

This continued. You kept close, limiting her reach with the weapon, and played defense. This was pointless without a staff. There was no way to tire her out. Years upon years upon years have built up her stamina. That’s why she’s your goddess. So your next plan was to dance around her to grasp your fallen weapon.

From every time you’ve seen her spar, only a two have you seen her truly fight, this was beyond easy mode. Thankfully so. You would be getting your ass handed to you on a silver platter by a professional butler. How could you be so bad at this?! “Don’t think, ooman! Move. Let your body fight for you,” Gawtin demanded and brought down her staff, knocking it against your exposed side. “Arms down. Protect your side.”

A yelp escaped you at this, elbows immediately coming down as she tried to jab you there again. This time, you caught the weapon and jerked it in your direction.  The Yautja was surprised at your sudden offence and stumbled a step forward. Just enough for you use a leg to swipe her unsteady limbs from underneath her.

Pain flared up your leg the moment after at how much strength it took to take her down. The ground underneath you trembled lightly as her back slammed into it. You were quick to hop on top of her and used her own weapon to hold against her throat. Both legs on each side of her expansive chest, yet your knees weren’t touching the ground.

Your shoulders rose and fell heavily as you stared deep into her eyes.  A rumbling purr starting in her chest. Some days you wished she had lips that you could press yours against.

One moment, you were on top… The next, all the air in your lungs was pushed out. A hand wrapped securely around your throat as a great weight held you down. Your jaw hung down as you tried to gasp but your body was too much in shock to even breath. Both arms pinned simply in one hand above your head. Your legs were pressed into your chest as the Yautja’s face hung close to yours.  Gawtin stared down at you, an upper mandible raised.

Her slithery tongue licked a stripe along your cheek. She rolled her lower body, gaining a moan that you were quick to shut down. Your eyes wide at the realization on what you had just did and what had happened. You couldn’t believe how aroused you were in this moment after pinning her down then the tides being turned around on you.

Another thought hit you that had embarrassment rolling through you. “There’s a child present!” you whispered at her, eye softly closely. The Yautja kept gently rolling her hips against yours. A glint appeared in Gawtin’s eyes.

Gawtin leaned back down and licked from the back of your ear and along the edged of your jawline. “You were not concerned earlier.” You gasped at both the feeling and her words.

The human was too stunned to speak. Gawtin chuckled lowly before standing up. You couldn’t move, too afraid you couldn’t even stand. She raised a brow as you before offering a single hand. More than enough to pull you back to your feet. “Come on, artful one. If you can pin me by dusk, you make get your wish to taste me.” That gave you the energy to rise swiftly to your feet. One she smirked at.

[danafinwefeaelenionfeanorian]

Feanorian Week Day Seven: Feanaro and Nerdanel

140 FO

"They're supposed to arrive today," I tell Mother over my tea cup.

She decided to drag me from my desk in the castle to enjoy a small break with her. At the manor, no less. We could have gone anywhere in Tirion, but we had to go home.

I'm not mad about it, but this means I could be here when they arrive. I wasn’t expecting to see them until dinner. I had time to rein in my emotions but now I may not.

I'm supposed to be Arafinwe's chief advisor and head of state. I take care of nearly everything for him like I did for Oropher and Thranduil in their respective ruling of the Eryn Lasgalen.

Father, Grandfather and Grandmother are set to arrive in Tirion today. They should go to the castle to see Arafinwe first, but I have a sneaking suspicion they are coming here first. I’d have been fine greeting them there but again I think they’ll come here.

Mother hasn't seen Father since we left in 1495. I haven't seen Grandfather since he was murdered twelve feet from me. As for Grandmother, neither Mother nor I have met her. She's been in Mandos since before either of us was born.

"That's what has you fired up?" She asks, raising her eyebrow.

"Yes," I gulp some tea down to avoid a longer answer.

"Dana, darling, you're getting married next week, and your Father, Grandfather and Grandmother arriving is what has you more fired up than a smithy." Mother snorts in an attempt to hold back her nervous laughter.

An understatement. I feel like I'm holding back a torrent of flames and heat, and holding it back is so strenuous that I've begun to shake.

"Yes,"

"You'd think I'd be more...more..."

"More fired up than me?" I offer loosely drawing on my skills as a wordsmith.

"Yes,"

"Dana, there are three people coming up the drive. One has silver hair like Turca," Tauriel's voice filters into the sunroom. I'd ask what could have possibly torn her away from her drawing with Nelyo, but when someone has hair like Turca, there can only be one person it belongs to.

The art room and the sunroom overlook the drive. I could see if it’s them. I twist in the arm chair and try to catch a glimpse of the three people. Sure enough there are three people walking up the drive. One has silver hair and the other two have dark brown hair.

Oh, sweet Varda, they're here.

I plop my tea cup onto the side table and stare at Mother. She looks as nervous as I feel. Oh valar.

I slide my legs off the arm of the armchair and stand. Together, Mother and I exit the sunroom. Nelyo meets us in the hall and walks with us to the front entry.

Tauriel silently walks behind us, muttering about our or rather my relatives, trying to figure out who they are. She then comes upon the answer and gasps.

At the front entry we don’t have to wait long for the doors to open. In fact it’s as we’re arriving that they open.

Standing on the other side of the doors are the very people I expected. Grandfather, Grandmother and Father. The original royal family. Finally, complete after all this time.

“Feaelenion,” Grandfather smiles.

“Grandfather,” I whisper.

Then, in an instant, he opens his arms for a hug like he did all those years ago. I surge forward, tears streaming down my face and fold myself into the hug. It's everything I've been wanting all these years.

I feel Grandfather lift his arms from my back and beckon Nelyo over. My brother instantly envelopes me and Grandfather in his arms. And suddenly, I'm fifty again.

“Forgive me, my dearest,” Father weeps between gasps. “forgive me,”

“I have. You are forgiven,” Mother murmurs. "You have been for some time,"

I detach myself from Grandfather and Nelyo to watch my parents. Father is kneeling and hugging Mother's waist as tightly as he can, from what I can tell. Mother is leaning down and murmuring into the top of his head.

Both have tears streaming down their cheeks.

I wipe my own tears from my face and beckon Tauriel over. She wonders closer in a daze as if realizing I wasn't exaggerating when I said I look identical to my Grandfather.

"Grandfather, this is Tauriel my oldest,"

"Your oldest," A feminine voice, not belonging to Mother, says. "How many do you have?"

"Two," I smile, glancing at the small female with silver hair. A clear relation to Father and the hair Turca inherited. "My youngest is Aravel. He's currently out with Nanwe,"

"As in the lord, Finwe mentioned you were courting?" Grandmother asks.

"I still am,"

"Dana, you're getting married to him in a week," Tauriel states as if it were plainer than my nose.

"Are we not allowed to court up until then?"

Tauriel sputters, then blows a raspberry at me. Delightful use of words, darling. Delightful.

"They are...your own?" Grandmother tentatively asks. She eyes me and my daughter.

It's quite clear that Tauriel and I do not resemble one another. Her red hair could have been inherited from Mother if she was my child, but he skin colour? That is far too dark to be mine or Nanwe's.

I'd have her no other way. She is beautiful as is. A perfect addition to my family.

"No, they're adopted. If I were to have a child of my own body, I'd turn out like you, Grandmother," I tell her as I pull Tauriel into my side for a hug.

"Oh,"

"How do you know?" Grandfather asks.

Oh, dear valar. So many questions, and it's not even over dinner. I sigh and tell them I was told by Iluvatar. Which is true. It just wasn't in person.

"YOU WHERE WHAT?" Father asks, tearing his and Mother's attention from each other.

"It was the night I'd accepted Nanwe as my intended," I sigh, remembering the night clearly as if it were yesterday. "He slipped into my dreams that night and said if I were to bear a child I would end up like my Grandmother,"

"Why did you not say something?" Nelyo asks. He saw me that morning after. I was shaken, and he knew me well enough then to know something happened.

He was so sure it was Nanwe that he nearly broke exile to tear Nanwe's head off. It took me sitting on his chest to get him to stop. I had to tell him I had a nightmare to get him to back off.

"It wasn't a big deal. Nanwe and I had just accepted one another, and children were so far off. It wasn't a pressing issue,"

Tauriel pulls on my sleeve. She's looking directly at Father. "Uncle Curvo wasn't lying when he said he looked exactly like Grandfather,"

"No he wasn't,"

"Did you say, Grandfather?" Father asks Tauriel. Father's head snaps to Tauriel standing by me.

Tauriel nods.

Father swears and gingerly picks her up in a hug and twirls her around while murmuring, "A grandchild. A grandchild. A grandchild,"

Mother and I share a smile. We had many conversations over the past month depicting what his reaction will be to Tauriel and Aravel. What his reaction to Mother will be. How she will react and how my siblings will react.

"She's also a smith," Nelyo mentions.

Father places Tauriel down and asks her if this is true. At her nod Father pulls her into a tight hug. Mother chuckles and attaches herself to her husband and grandchild.

[anoctoberpepper]

Grant Offers Lark Art

Grant finds three books. There is only one with any of Lawrence Baker’s works in it, but Grant gets the idea of what other art Lark likes from the 200 + pages of pictures the man sent him in the middle of the night on a bender, wikiwalking through the whale’s art expertise. 

Lark had had better nights. 

And two weeks after that night Grant has something to offer. It’s not Lark and Sparrow’s birthday, or a holiday, but Grant knows Lark, and knows he appreciates gifts more on days that don’t matter. He appreciates someone, anyone, thinking about him on a day that doesn’t matter. He appreciates anyone thinking about him at all.

Grant finds Lark’s car parked at the shooting range at the edge of the city. If he didn’t see the location tracker on his phone showing Lark heading out, Grant would have gone right in. The man at the check in knows them all on sight. Knows what guns they prefer, and chats them up about the latest in lock boxes and sniper scopes. It’s disgusting, and rewarding, and Grant tries not to think too hard about all the information he’s amassed about guns since his childhood. 

Grant watches Lark walk out of the range in a semi-daze.

“Lark-” Grant calls out before Lark can get spooked on his own. 

“Grant?” Lark shocks himself out of a deep space-out, squints for a second then pulls out his phone. Grant knows the habit. He and Lark were paranoid enough several years ago to stab trackers into their arms, and now they use it to double check that the other one is who they say they are. They have yet to find out if Scam Actually knows about the trackers or if he can mimic the signal. They’re hoping they never have to find out. 

Lark’s fears seem somewhat allayed when he sees Grant’s small tracker beeping in the same spot that Grant stands, leaning up against his minivan’s hood.

“Still me, unfortunately, ” Grant says, self-deprecating in a way he can only be with Lark.

Lark hmphs with understanding. 

“How was the range?” Grant asks.

“Got most of my shots. Wrist’s back to normal.” Lark holds up his right arm and twists his wrist in a loose circle. His wrist got pretty well smashed three months ago when an incursion was trying to stomp a crossbow out of his hand. The stomping stopped Lark, but it couldn’t stop Grant from piercing a bullet right through one of the things ten eyes. Down went the monster, and curled over screaming went Lark. Three months later and apparently Lark is finally back to 100%.

“Crossbow and automatic?” Grant asks. “All good,” Lark says. “You going in?” He nods toward the range. He and Lark sometimes go shooting together, but they’re way more likely to wander there solo. For Grant there’s something raw and stripped away about who he is on the shooting range. It feels too much like being naked when a grin smears across his face as a rifle recoils. He doesn’t like people seeing it. 

Lark, well he would take someone with him, but they’ve all gotten too spooked at one point or another at Lark’s manic look when he makes a perfect shot, or gets six rounds in rapid succession. The man’s bloodlust can be hard to stomach. 

Out of everyone, they’re still the most likely to go to the range together.

“No,” Grant says. He pushes away from the front of the car and opens his passenger door.

“Brought you a gift.” He grabs the three coffee table art books and walks back around the front of the car to Lark.

Lark frowns and takes the small stack from Grant when it’s offered. He opens the cover of the first and looks a few pages in. Grant gets the feeling he’s looking for a hidden compartment or trick.

“This isn’t a gun safe,” Lark says, confused. 

“They’re books, Lark.”

Lark goes ahead and checks the other books for hidden compartments then frowns harder. Grant doesn't know how to respond. Doesn’t have to when, after another moment of looking, Larks stops flipping around on a Jackson Pollock piece, turns a page and stares at a Joseph O’ Sickey painting. His confusion melts slowly. His finger lets one page drop. Then another. Each small move reveals piece after piece of artwork. He can’t pull his eyes away. It’s like watching Lincoln turn his attention onto a tablet, slowly disappearing into another world. Grant doesn’t know if he should pull him back. Lark looks at one picture, slowly lets the page drop, stares at the next, then again. He’s peaceful. Still in a very unLark way. And then Lark realizes it and shuts the book. “You know I hate reading.” He holds the books back out to Grant, shoving them like they might hurt him. “Not for reading,” Grant says, pressing them back. Lark never really caught onto reading. He’s dyslexic as hell and there are days Grant has to text Sparrow to get translations of his brother’s texts. “It’s just paintings, you can just look.” 

Lark scratches his scraggly beard, and looks uncomfortable with the situation. Grant momentarily worries that he’s done something wrong. Then he realizes that Lark had said This isn’t a gun safe. Grant thinks back to every gift he’s seen someone give the man, tactical vests, silencers, hunting knives, a rare black-powder scented candle from Sparrow in a well meaning but fruitless attempt to soften Lark’s rough edges. 

“It’s art,” Grant repeats. “There’s a bunch of the paintings you sent me in them. Here-” Grant takes the middle book from the stack and flips through until he finds the Lawrence Baker drawing. It’s a tall landscape sketch of a tree and log and undergrowth, but none of it is quite finished or maybe it just morphs into something else before it ever really forms. Your eyes can’t land on or finish anything. 

Lark reaches out a hand, runs his finger down the page, reverential. 

“It’s the first thing that looked right,” Lark says quietly. He glances up at Grant, back down again, clearly unsure if he should be saying this out loud. 

“What do you mean?” Grant offers. He’s never seen Lark’s exterior crack like this. He wants to make sure he’s gentle now that it is. Lark deserves that. 

“It’s what I looked like inside, when it all happened.” Grant looks down at the drawing. It looks just like any other drawing to him. Detailed, subtle but not simple. It means something to Lark though. No one’s ever given him anything but guns, and no one’s ever given him anything that describes what it felt like to fall apart all those years ago. Grant gently puts the book back in Lark’s hands. He doesn’t close it, just hands it over and waits. 

“Sorry I barrage texted you,” Lark says. He still doesn’t take his eyes off the art.

“Don’t worry about it,” Grant says.”Text more often.”  He tries to think of the right thing to say. Grant is messy, but he tries to be honest. Lark bottles it up, breaks down in fits and bursts and giant explosions. This is nothing like that. This is like finally seeing the world of Lark, but only through a stained glass window. Not stark or clear, but at least there’s some light getting through.

“You should enjoy those,” Grant says, hoping Lark will take the books without another fuss, get into his car and take them home. Maybe he’ll look through them without also chugging his way through a bottle of Everclear. 

Lark runs his finger around the edge of the open book. Grant doesn’t know where to go or what to do. He and Lark get into fist fights, and scream at each other about their feelings, they don’t usually look at art.

After going back and forth, Grant slaps Lark’s arm.

 “I’ll catch you later,” he says, flinches internally. With anyone else he could at least fake his way through an emotional conversation. For some reason he can’t seem to pull it off with Lark. He pulls his car keys out of his pocket and turns to leave.

“Grant-”

Grant stops in his tracks. Braces himself and turns. 

Lark’s practically clutching the books to himself. “Thank you.” The sheer genuine appreciation in his friends eyes is a punch to the gut.

“Anytime,” Grant says. He rubs his neck, then adds, “Text me anytime. I mean it.”

I love the idea of Lark being moved by art since his mom was a painter (painted that giant mural on the side of their house growing up).

[lu-sn]

Hi lusn! 29 and 30 for that ao3 wrapped meme, please and thank you ❤️

@saffflina @fanonplussed gonna answer 29 and 30 here and then do the other two separately!

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

i'm gonna interpret this in a way that benefits me LOL and do one passage and one line.

from reignite (namphueng):

There is only one thing that matters, and that is this: everything Korn says could be a lie. It might be, it might not be. This is how it’s always been. And so, for her, everything in her small world is true and false, there and not there, real and unreal. It is paralyzing. Her paralysis keeps her safe. It is okay if she believes no truths, so long as she falls for no lies. She stands immobile, unalive and yet untouchable. And then Porsche – her son, her dear son, who looks so beautiful and healthy and trapped just like her – crashes into her world. And suddenly, something here is real, and it is him. He brings Chay, her baby, and Chay is real too. Namphueng grips onto them tightly, for they are her anchor. Her sons are the reason she is alive again, but she is the reason they have been dragged out to sea, and she wants nothing more than for them to be free. The new thing that matters is this: she needs to remember why she is here.

and from smog lights (pete, to macau):

Vegas wouldn’t have learned to love me so easily if he hadn’t spent all of his life loving you first.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

i'll just be blunt. i'm surprised as hell that i can write 😂

i've been reading fic for literal decades but did not write a single word because i didn't think i could or that it would be worth anything - until three years ago, when safff conned me into trying nanowrimo. as most nanos go, i wrote 3K in a daze and never touched it again - but i was like, hey, this isn't total garbage! if i had ideas that were any good, then maybe they'd turn out okay

and then in june i watched this stupid show which ruined my life in literally every way possible and i was going certifiably insane and all the words were festering in my head and i was like fuck. fuck! FINE i'll write them down. and now i'm twelve fics and thousands of words of meta in and i feel kind of stupid because i was the only person in my own way for years. it's ok tho. i've never been so creatively inspired in my life and that's a hell of a motivator. where's that one post that's like, the best way to become better at art is to become completely hyperfixated on a piece of media? yeah, that's me.

this reads like a humble brag. i don't know how to not make it sound like that. i just - if you're someone who's always thought about writing, just try. if you have an idea, give it a shot. i've got tons of words in docs that are never going to see the light of day because i have written plenty of words i don't like. but the ones i did like brought me a lot of joy, and apparently brought a lot of joy to yall too. i'm very grateful for that. i would like to keep writing for a long time. i enjoy writing tremendously, and i made a lot of friends along the way ❤️

[phantomenby]

Fearing the future

Could I have poly! Lost Boys with a GN! Reader who can predict the future? A polt of Y/N saving Marko + the others by not getting hurt by the Frog Brothers? That's when they kinda reveal their powers?

Mhm! Here you are <3

"Something on your mind dear?"

You turned to David, his eyes were reaching towards yours, the cold blue hue of his irises filled with concern as his hand on your hip squeezed softly.

He had noticed. Of course, he had noticed. Nothing got by your sweet David. For the past week, you had been in a daze, something weighing on your mind that you couldn't explain. It was something in relation to the gift you were hiding from them, but you yourself couldn't explain it.

Each day when they left you to retire to their home you sought out the pressure building in the front of your mind. Each time you were left even more disorientated and the pit in your chest grew.

It wouldn't clear, visions could be testy but this one was hiding from you, even when you pushed through the fog you were met with only small snippets that had been difficult to piece together.

Flashes of golden hair, screaming, golden eyes burning into yours as you held a body to your chest.

You had wanted to say something to your boys, wanting to confide in them. But you remembered the last time you had told someone of your unique ability, a month in a psych ward had prevented you from being open about it again, even after you moved out to live alone and away from your parent's scorn.

"No, I'm fine." He didn't believe you.

You were like an enigma to him, even when he was able to reach into your mind he was met with things so unfamiliar to him, things nothing could explain. They had assumed your imagination was hyperactive, your daydreaming occurred often when you were relaxing in their arms, so they never pushed knowing how delicate you could be.

He was leading you to where the boys were parked, having released Star into the crowd with Laddie so they could watch the new attraction, a half-naked jazz man with pants so tight little was left to the imagination.

When you arrived you were swiftly pulled into the arms of Marko, your sweet cherub. His cool forehead pressed to yours as he breathed you in before burying his fingers into your hair and pulling you closer, burrowing his nose into his shoulder as his lips ran along your neck and his other hand dug into your waist.

"Mmm, missed you," giggling you pressed a chaste kiss to his neck, relaxing in his arms as his chest let out a slow rumble, feeling Dwayne coming to your side and pressing his lips to your hair.

"I saw you two days ago-"

"Too long bambino," you couldn't help but agree with the brunette who had pressed his bare chest against your shoulder, nose buried in your scalp and running across it. It was a rare thing that you didn't see them every day, the last time it had happened you had left town for a week at the beginning of your relationship over a year ago. When you had returned to Santa Carla after your brother's wedding you were met with four very possessive men refusing to let you go, rubbing against you like cats.

"What have we got planned for tonight my loves?"

-

After the night that had just passed, you were more than happy to lay down in your own bed, pressing your face into the cool pillow to soothe your burning cheeks.

They had taken you around the boardwalk until Star was back with the young child who had come to see you as a parent figure, embracing the girl also who had talked to you about visiting the art store for her, wanting to make some new jewelry. You had happily agreed to do so, knowing how lonely it must get being the only girl surrounded by so many boys.

After she and Laddie had returned home the five of you had gone to the cliffs, Marko insisting on showing you a sweet stargazing spot he had found the night earlier when he was trying a new strain with Paul.

It was perfect, exhausting, but perfect. You had forgotten how much better you felt when you were around them, like a piece of a puzzle fitting perfectly into place, or a cog the machine of your relationship couldn't work without.

Now you had something else to do.

Once you had showered you began running the bath, filling it with lukewarm water and staying in only your dressing gown. In hope of rejuvenating yourself, you made a mug of strong overpowering coffee, needing the boost to keep you going for as long as possible.

When the water reached an inch or so below the rim of the tub you shed the gown and climbed in, wrapping the silk blindfold around your head and tying it tight at the back, finishing the ritual by plugging your ears and leaning back to let the water embrace you.

The familiar feeling encompassed your mind and you felt your heart slow, the thumping rhythm calming as blood rushed to your head.

Laughter

Familiar cackles from a languid blonde male who was throwing his head back as he raced his packmates, mocking the human who was trying to keep up with them.

"Come on Michael!"

Emerald eyes, golden curls, a devilish grin.

Marko.

It was your boys, all for of them, smiling like predators as they led the curly-haired brunette from earlier to their home. Taunting him as they weaved across the beach.

The scene moved, pulling you to the woods, feeling wind slap your face as bikes flew past you, watching your boyfriends propel themselves ahead uncaring of the dangerously unstable ground they were riding along.

A cliffside. The bluff.

A punch was thrown and three pairs of hands reached to hold back a figure.

White hair, a cheek unbruised from the hit. A smile that could haunt hell.

"How far are you willing to go Michael?"

Water burned your lungs as your body was propelled upwards, choking on the liquid as you leaned over the edge of the tub, heaving in pain as you tried to breathe.

When you finally calmed down you pressed your head to the side of the tub, cooling yourself, trying to process what you had seen.

"Holy shit..."

It was the first time you had seen something clear all week, so vivid the decision leading to such a situation was guaranteed. The events were to happen soon.

Thinking on it you decided to go for another round, draining the tub which was now tinged pink with blood that had poured from your nose. Repeating the ritual and lowering yourself in the slightly colder water, taking a deep breath and descending into another vision.

"How are those maggots, Michael?"

"What-?"

You tried not to gag as the brunette boy spat out the larvae onto the ground, turning away as they squirmed on the floor. When you looked back there was nothing there besides rice.

God...

This was even more disorientating than before. Everything was moving too quickly and it was then you realized you were becoming weakened as the vision went on. But you would persist. You had to.

"Drink Michael. Become one of us."

There it was. That odd bejeweled bottle you had seen before, one you had never been offered but always spotted shining in the cabinet beneath the wall of keys on the far end of the cave.

The boy grasped the bottle, feeling Star pressed up behind him, fear shining in her large doe eyes.

The room spun.

"-its blood."

Michael merely scoffed, taking a large swig and swallowing the cursed ambrosia, unknowingly changing his life forever.

The scene moved again, making you sway, something that shouldn't be possible in your astral form.

It was daytime now, the sun was shining through the holes in the ceiling of the cave and through the entranceway.

Four boys, Michael, and his curly-haired brother, two others you knew from the comic book store. Frogs.

They were dressed like soldiers, carrying flasks, knives, and wooden stakes..?

The pair jested, jumping around the cave in wonder, running over to Star and threatening her, making a lump form in your throat.

Why was this happening?

Michael stepped in, his screaming muffled as he fought to keep upright, leaning heavily on his smaller brother. Something was wrong with him, some sickness showing on the way his skin was flushed and pale.

You hadn't noticed the boys running to the small passageway, climbing through. The vision took you there, showing you the strange sight of your boys, your beloveds hanging there. It was inhuman, unnatural.

But you were unable to dwell on it for long, noticing how the two Frogs had the wooden weapons in their hands, the one with a red bandanna wrapped around his head stood in front of Marko.

His arm raised, shouting something your ears zoned out.

Your body lurched, your physical form gasping for breath. You refused to let go, eyes wide and your throat constricted.

His arm thrust forward, piercing your lover through his chest, sending glistening blood down below-

"NO!"

-

You had hardly slept, too anxious and scared. Your boys wouldn't return til the sun had set. Now you understood why.

So you sat in your bed, hair still drying from the bath and in a clean set of pajamas, stomach rumbling but being ignored in favor of watching the sun move across the sky.

An hour passed.

Then another.

And another, until the sky was finally dimming, now sporting pink and orange hues as the fiery light sunk below the horizon.

You hoped they would come. Hoped they would sense something amiss and seek you out. No matter how scary it would be you needed to do this, needed to confront them.

The sun had long since set, the stars sparkling above you. You counted them until you were bored, then you began finding constellations. Chewing on your lip you leant against the glass, eyes becoming teary and exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders.

They never came, the day now over and the night now passing much quicker. Letting your eyes slip closed you curled into a ball, keeping your window open just a little and burying yourself into the thick quilt you had brought with you. Darkness encompassed you, pulling you into darker dreams.

"Kitten.."

Someone was pulling on your shoulder, and you whined, pulling away as you tried to get back to sleep.

"Now little one come on."

The voice was urgent, familiar, and anxious.

Another hand grabbed your face, wiping away dried blood which had caked on your cheek, sliding down from your nose.

"Baby please...wake up"

The voices were becoming disjointed, trying to breach your consciousness.

A cold body climbed beside you, hands weaved into your hair and tugged, your only response was to lean closer and breath deeply.

"My love..."

Your eyes cracked open, meeting a chest covered with a mesh shirt. Paul.

"Little dove, where were you?" long fingers lifted your chin, bringing your blood-soaked face up to meet their own, pressing a thumb to your lips and against your teeth to ground you.

"Pup..." David warned from your other side, eyes boring into yours, a dangerous glare flashing behind concern, "why weren't you out tonight?"

You didn't answer, wrapping your arms around the pale blonde and tugging him towards you, burying your face into his stomach and taking panicked breaths.

Marko joined the three of you, shushing you and running his fingers through your hair and he kissed your jaw, licking away the red softly.

They stayed like that, soothing you and trying to bring you back to them, something had hurt you. Something they would put a stop to no matter what. Nothing was allowed to cause such fear in their mate.

"Little lamb," Dwayne was kneeling on the floor, meeting your tear-filled eyes as you pulled away from David slightly, "tell us, please."

His eyes were begging, his words pleading, taking a deep breath you began to speak, words cutting through sobs.

"Y-you-" Paul pressed his palm to your back, rubbing up and down against your spine, pushing you to breathe slowly.

Your next words made him freeze. Made them all stop still as they looked at you with grave concern.

"You, you d-died."

It pained you to say it, burned your throat as the words were forced out. Watching them in your vision, slowly one by one being taken out, each death painful and the images of your dear boys being reduced to nothing.

"Kitten..." You didn't meet Marko's eyes, still staring into Dwayne's as they glazed over, fear seizing your chest, "what do you mean we died?"

-

Once you had calmed down, after much reassuring that they weren't angry with you and soft touches from each of them, you were now curled on Markos lap after having latched onto him.

Your face was buried in his shoulder, knees pulled to your chest as his arms held you close, fingers running along your body like he was scared you would disappear any moment.

"Your visions, they aren't permanent?" It was the wrong word to use, but you knew what David meant. Can they be changed? Can we stop our deaths?

It was possible, decisions could sway, and fates were never truly decided.

Nodding you reached a hand out, grasping his cool ones which were bare, having removed his leather gloves once the feeling of them on his skin became irritable.

"The future can change, you just need to choose a different path, Michael-" you watched them all twitch, now less happy about their new brother, "he's involved, you need to talk to him."

Paul scoffed, "about what?"

Shuffling slightly to meet his gaze, feeling Marko's arms tighten around you, "about everything. You tricked him right? That's why he hates you, he loves Star and she was tricked too. They need to understand you're not in control. Maybe even..."

You trailed off but they knew what you were insinuating, there was one common denominator that led to everyone's suffering and destruction. Max.

The video store owner, a towering man who was odd and leery. He was the head, he had control, he was pulling the strings. The boys died because they thought they were in control, if they knew the truth you were sure they wouldn't attack your mates and the Frogs could be swayed.

"If we do this. If we kill him. There's no turning back."

-

Talking to Michael and Star wasn't easy, both struggling through their hunger and the former enraged by the boy's and Star's deceit. But he agreed to help, agreed to form an alliance. His humanity, Star's humanity, Laddie's humanity. All in return for the death of the sire and the safety of your boys.

The Frogs would be difficult, but they could be useful. Sam was close enough to the isolated pair that you were sure they would be happy to help.

Once they were in the cave, and no longer shouting profanities at the boys, a plan was formed.

"So...garlic really doesn't work?" Alan's lip was lifted in a grimace, watching the tall wild-haired blonde ripping through the large slice of cheesy garlic bread like a man starved, shuddering at his sharp grin.

"No, actually it's one of our favorites," Dwayne shrugged, Laddie leaning against him half asleep, enjoying what would most likely be one of their final moments together, "holy water does, we'll need to stock up on that, and I'm sure the old Emerson has enough wood to make stakes. We can trap him."

They all turned to David who had returned with Michael and Marko after scouting the Emerson home, learning the layout.

"When?"

David's mouth stretched, eyes glowing a fiery amber, "tomorrow."

-

Today was the day. Everything had been planned meticulously, even Lucy and Gramps were in on it.

The Emerson matriarch would return with Max from their date, lure him into the house under the pretense of a nightcap, then he would be trapped, and the boys would kill their sire and end their torment.

"It'll be ok love," David was holding your hand as you and the boys hid in one of the upstairs bedrooms, based on the soft bedding and dried flowers decorating the small space you assumed it was the mother's. His nose was pressed against your neck, listening to your racing heart, fluttering anxiously in your chest.

You nodded, "I know, I'm just-"

"Scared..." Paul finished your sentence, looking up at you from where his head was rested in your lap, baby blues shining from below. Once Marko's fate had passed he had managed to relax a little, knowing his closest packmate was safe from his fate. Now the other three would be too, there was no holy water bath, the stereo had been moved to another part of the house and David had no intention of fighting Michael.

You had chosen to hide until Max was firmly trapped, knowing he would sense something amiss too soon if he saw you all waiting for him. The entire house had been filled with various scents, blood from the dead animals in the gleaming red room, lavender from the garden out front, and at least three weed plants burned outside. It had sent everyone into a slight haze but the boys had scared them out of it.

Before you had arrived the boys had taken you down to the sea, so you could complete your ritual one more time. But you were met with nothing, darkness, and silence. Yes, it meant their fates had changed, but to what you couldn't know. The future was uncertain and your lives in the balance of the next few hours, determined by the death of the father.

"They're here" Marko spoke from beside the window, pulling back into the shadows, eyes glowing as they met yours.

It was time.

You all listened intently, twitching as sounds grew below you, the boys could hear better than you. When you heard Sam shout the boys lifted off the ground, being as silent as possible as you were carried by David, he left you at the top of the stairs before dropping down behind his sire.

Max's eyes widened, looking at his sons before his brows furrowed, a dark snarl ripping from his chest. From your position you couldn't see how his face changed, bones jutting out, teeth growing sharper until there was nothing human left of him at all.

"David. What is the meaning of this!"

His children did little more than smirk in response, and as Max turned he realised he was truly trapped, even if he flew away he could be weakened by the boys and the half-vampire, Star, who was smiling devilishly. Even Michael looked a little scared of her.

The beast moved faster than you could see, swiping and growling, pushing away the humans and leaving him surrounded by those who he could try and influence. But it did not work. Regardless of the blood bond, he was no longer truly in control, never again would he be able to force their minds. Defeat and an ounce of fear flashed in his animalistic features.

With a mighty roar he charged, lunging his large form towards the vicious brunette who had been circling him like a panther, arms outstretched and claws sharp.

Max did not reach your love, his arms were seized, wrapped tight by the blondes who dug their talons into his tough flesh.

His eldest, David, climbed upon his shoulders, jaw open wide.

He bit down, his fangs pressing into Max's throat, inciting a scream from the older man. But his arms were restricted, and he was weak. So David's teeth tore, biting harshly until the skin pulled apart and blood sprayed into his white hair.

Max's head fell, tossed to the side and frozen in an expression of torment.

He was dead. His body crumpled to the ground. His second death complete.

-

"You'll get cold if you stay like that little dove," arms wrapped around you, pulling you against a naked chest, soft curls brushing against your shoulders as the person behind you arched his head forward to kiss your cheek.

You hummed, leaning back, enjoying the waves lapping against you.

Hours had passed, and the night would end soon. It was over faster than expected.

David had insisted on cleaning himself, feeling dirty with his ex-sire's blood. Dragging you down to the ocean himself and stripping you with him before pulling you beneath the waves, holding you close as he let your scent cover the one he hated most.

"It's over," Marko smiled into your skin, a hand sliding up your body and encompassing your cheek, turning your face so your eyes would meet his own. He was quiet for a moment, eyes searching yours, full of love and promises. When he spoke he simply mirrored your own words, a reassuring confirmation you would carry with you for some time.

"It's over."

[thedeathdeelers]

a little drabble that came to mind while chatting to and exchanging juke ideas with @phantomsandsunsets (and by chatting i probably mean shouting in all caps)

please enjoy!

——

beating hearts baby

it had been weeks since the orpheum, weeks since he’d finally been able to touch her, hold her, and cradle her face in the palm of his hands. and although it was awkward and a little hesitant at first, they had finally managed to cross that line of will they won’t they the moment luke had accidentally slipped up and whispered that he loved her in her ear one night after a big gig.

she froze in his embrace, his body following suit, but it only took her a split second before she was tightening her arms around him and declaring her love for him, the words spilling out of her like a waterfall.

ever since then, they had become inseparable (well, more so than usual). julie would wake up in the mornings, get ready for school and make her way to the studio. she would wave goodbye to the boys, get a tight hug and a lingering kiss from luke before she made her way to where flynn was waiting for her. her best friend always looked at her with an amused but exasperated expression on her face, probably due to julie’s slightly dazed one. luke always some pride in that.

as soon as she walked down her street after school headed towards the studio, luke would beat her to it, eagerly waiting for her at the edge of the Molina green jungle. he would scoop her up the moment she was within arm’s reach, crushing her into a hug and pulling her further into the garden, away from any prying eyes - they didn’t want to have to explain to julie’s neighbours how she had suddenly mastered the art of floating.

they would walk hand in hand to the studio, julie filling him in on her day, and luke eagerly listening to every word coming out of her mouth, as if scared he might miss out on a crucial detail that made up the very essence of julie.

the day would go on with the two of them nearly attached to the hip; julie eating her lunch and luke sitting on the kitchen island chattering away about all of the new ideas he came up with while she was at school. julie sitting at her desk doing her homework, while luke scribbled away on his journal on her bed. the two of them at practice, rehearsing new songs with the boys while still making eyes at each other.

and then came their favourite part of the day: cuddling in bed and talking about the past, the present and the future, before julie drifted off into blissful slumber.

luke would spend the night eyes closed, arms wrapped tightly around the light of his life, as he tried to burn the feeling of her against him in his mind.

and although luke would never say this out loud, never dare let julie know in fear of upsetting her, he knew that as long as he was a ghost, there wasn’t much of future for them. he couldn’t envision a future where he got to keep her forever. the thought hurt him more than he could ever put into words, but he loved her enough to know that he was going to have to let her go eventually. he was a ghost, ever unchanging, no heart, no heartbeat; no blood pumping through his veins. julie deserved better - julie deserved someone who was alive.

but for now he would cherish these moments for as long as he could - and at the end of the day, he would always be there for her, no matter what.

if only he knew that he had her heart just as much as she had his non-beating one.

——

and so the days bled into weeks and months and years, and still the boys remained frozen in time, still as 17 as on the day they had died.

julie had just turned 17, and luke was trying very hard not to stress about the fact that she was getting closer and closer to outgrowing him, both physically and emotionally. he tried to keep it together, really, he did, but once they had settled into her bed that night, his agitation was starting to seep through his thinly veiled façade.

“luke? are you okay?” came her quiet question, staring up at him through her lashes with wide brown eyes.

her head was nestled on his chest, his arm firmly wrapped around her waist, while hers was loosely thrown over his stomach. they were like two pieces of the same puzzle: always meant to find each other and slot perfectly into place.

he knew he should lie, knew that he had never planned on letting her in on his inner turmoil, but he was never good at keeping secrets from her - especially when she looked at him that with all the trust in the world.

with a deep sigh and averted eyes, he finally shared the thoughts he’d been keeping to himself for years.

“ya, i’m fine. i just- you could do so much better, jules. you deserve so much better.”

“what do you mean?” he could see the genuine confusion on her face, could tell that this was not a conversation she was expecting. his eyes kept twitching back to hers, the growing worry on her face only making it more difficult for him to continue.

he tried to reply, tried to form the words to make this right, but his mouth wasn’t cooperating. she was looking at him, her eyes scanning his face, most likely taking in the pained expression that was slowly taking over his features.

“luke? what’s wrong?” she lifted her head off his chest, her hand moving from its place on his waist to stroke his face, trying to ease away the lines of anguish.

wordlessly, he pulled the hand that was tucked under his head, and pressed it against hers. he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath letting the the fragrance that was purely julie overwhelm him. he wanted to drown in her, treasure the feel of her soft warm skin on his, and not think of the consequences.

but he couldn’t do that to her.

gathering her hand in his, he slowly dragged it down his face, down his neck and further down his chest, until he reached the spot where a steady beat should’ve been felt.

he held her hand there, and waited. waited for a sign of understanding, an “Oh,” anything. but when a few seconds had passed and he still hadn’t gotten a reaction from her, he forced his eyes open, dreading the look of pity he assumed would be clear on her face. instead, he only found confusion still evident in her eyes.

“jules you..you just turned 17 today, and i’m still 17. next year you’ll be 18, and the year after that, 19...and even then i’ll still be 17. i- i won’t be able to keep up with you and i- i..i don’t want to hold you back, keep you from living your...” luke averted his gaze again, trailing off as the corner of his lip pulled down, twisting in his attempt to hold himself from fully breaking down.

he tried to focus on her ceiling, then her desk - her window, the pile of clothes laying on the chair - anything so as to reel in his emotions. but as the quiet stretched out in the dark room, luke started to get more and more worried. he tried to focus on his breathing, his mind spiralling as he started to truly believe that julie was about to pull away. surely she agreed? surely she realised that he was only holding her back from fully living the life she deserved?

the silence was killing him.

barely a few seconds had passed before luke was opening his mouth again, willing to fill the silence that was suffocating him. but before he could make a noise, a small hand made its way up over his mouth, effectively silencing him.

he turned his head to look at her, only to be taken aback by the fierce determination that blazed in her eyes. she’d never looked more beautiful.

“you are what i deserve. what we have is what i deserve. it���s what i want in life and i can’t do better because this is already the best.”

“but-” he tried to speak through her fingers but she cut him off before he could get past one syllable.

“no. this isn’t up for discussion, luke. i made my decision that day, years ago, and i’m not changing it now. i have faith that we’ll find a way. fate brought you to me, and there’s a reason for that.” she nodded to herself, her eyes piercing his.

“and what’s the reason?” he mumbled, her fingers still pressed against his lips.

“that we’re meant to be together.” she said it so simply, so confidently, that he couldn’t find it in himself to question it, to argue.

but he still needed to make his point across - needed to make sure she understood.

“jules, i- i’m not saying that we’re not. i just...” he pulled her hand away from his lips, and dragged it back down to where a dormant heart lay.

“i don’t even have a heartbeat. you know it’s yours for the taking, julie. but...it’s not even a functioning heart.” the momentary surge of hope that was brought forward with julie’s words was starting to fade.

he was still dead.

“we’ll figure it out.” he just stared at her, her answer so straight forward, so uncomplicated.

“i-” her hand found its way back to his mouth.

“no, luke. we will find a way.” she cocked her head slightly to the side, a small smile making its way onto her lips. “trust me.”

he gazed at this girl, this angel - his wicked beauty - who seemed to have such unshakable faith in the universe, in him, in them, that he couldn’t find it in himself to fight it anymore. at least not tonight.

he quirked his lips up, before pressing them into a kiss against the palm of her hand.

“okay.”

“okay?”

“yeah. you’re the boss, right?”

her eyes crinkled as her smile grew, spreading warmth in his chest and momentarily chasing away his fears.

“yes, i am.”

and just as she was leaning in, closing the distance between his lips and hers, she stopped. luke raised his eyebrow at her, about to lift his head to reach her, but she suddenly moved, ducking her head and changing direction.

he watched, confused, as her head traveled down his neck, dropping kisses as she made her way further down towards his chest. and there, right above the spot where his dormant heart lay, julie lowered her lips and pressed a soft kiss against his thin t-shirt, lingering there for a few seconds before lifting her head back up.

it was fleeting, but luke swore he could have felt a soft thud against his ribs. he knew it was impossible, probably just wishful thinking, but he had felt it.

“i love you.” the words escape him easily, his chest bursting with the love he felt for this girl.

“i know,” her eyes twinkled mischievously, as she made her way back up his chest to rest her head against the crook of his neck.

where she belonged.

——

in the next few weeks, the strange thud in his chest kept coming back, sometimes once, sometimes multiple times in the span of a few seconds. never continuous.

it kept happening until one day, the thudding picked up and never stopped.

he had her heart, and now she had brought his back to her.

FIN

——

taglist: @moreflowersthanweeds , @thesunsetcurvephantom , @fanfics-she-wrote , @pink-flame , @molinashimbos , @ourstarscollided , @ace-bookworm, @williexmercer , @star-astro , @heademptynothoughts , @i-thought-i-knew-what-love-was , @candycornmgg , @blush-and-books , @radioactive-rosh , @tmp-jatp, @tonightthestarsalign

[amythedvdhoarder]

Storm in a Teacup

Pairing: Bucky x Divorced Reader

Word Count: ~2K

Warnings: Fluff, a monster of an ex-mother-in-law

Summary: You’re on your first date after your divorce. Who should you run into? Your ex-mother-in-law.

A/N: This comes from a request sent in by a lovely nonnie, who wanted a fic based around a divorced reader who runs into her ex-mother-in-law whilst on a date with Bucky. Before that point, Bucky didn’t know about her divorce. Embarrassment ensues and Bucky has to make up his mind about what to do next. I hope I have done your idea justice. Sorry it took me so long.

Thank you to the wonderful @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ for beta reading for me. Ily hun 😘

It had taken a long time for you to get to this position, to feel comfortable enough to be dating again. But you had been separated from your now ex-husband for two and a half years, your divorce finalised 6 months ago. It was time to try and have some semblance of a life. You felt guilty about not revealing your divorce to Bucky, but when you moved to New York you really wanted a fresh start, so you didn’t tell anyone about your past. Of course, if there came a time when Bucky needed to know then you would tell him, but this was just a coffee.

Bucky and you had begun talking a few months ago. It started when he was dropping off mission reports with small smiles, progressing to hello’s and then to you making him coffee whenever he stopped by during your lunch break, which he always seemed to arrive in time for. He had realised quickly that you weren’t a New York native, so traded your museum recommendations for tv, film and music recommendations. Each time you met you discussed your latest weekend museum trip and he told you his thoughts on the latest thing he had watched or listened to.

It was clear that you two had a connection. Your co-workers had even commented on how well you and the notoriously silent super-soldier seemed to get along. They were surprised that you hadn’t been on a date already. But you had reservations; perhaps it was too soon. Plus, there was no way Bucky would be interested in you. He was just polite and maybe enjoyed having someone who wasn’t a superhero to talk to. It was a shock when he asked you out for coffee the next time you saw him. You were even more shocked that you had agreed without any hesitation.  

You were nervous. In fact, nervous was an understatement. Sick to your stomach was a more accurate description. It wasn’t the fact that it was a date with Bucky Barnes, it was the fact it was a date. Your first, first date in nearly 10 years.  

Bucky was leaning against a lamppost, outside your apartment waiting for you. When you saw him you felt yourself instantly relax. He gave you his signature lopsided grin that you had come to crave and ambled over to you.

“You look great,” he said as he stood back and admired you.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself for an old man,” you teased. That was the understatement of the century. He looked like a model in his dark wash jeans, dark blue henley layered over a black t-shirt and a leather jacket in his hand.

He shook his head and chuckled to himself. “Theoretically we’re about the same age you know.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmmm well I don’t know about that, but we better get going otherwise we’ll be out past your bedtime.”

“What happened to respecting your elders?” Bucky winked.

“Maybe elders that don’t act like teenage boys, but you and Sam are like high-school kids.”

Bucky looked confused for a second and then remembered that you had caught him and Sam hiding Steve’s shield under your desk the other week.

Bucky threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright, you win.”

The coffee shop was only a couple of streets away, on a corner opposite one of your favourite parks. Bucky and you ordered together and found a table near the window.

Both of you were chatting away about an art gallery you had visited the day before when you were suddenly interrupted.

“You,” that was a voice you would recognise anywhere, a voice which still haunted you. One of constant criticism, one that drove a wedge between you and the person you thought you would spend the rest of your life with.

“Hello Eliza,” you said through a forced smile.

Bucky stood and politely offered his hand to Eliza, but she ignored it leaving Bucky to sit down awkwardly.

“What brings you to New York?” you asked curtly.

“Well Leon and I are visiting my sister,” you balked, glancing quickly around the room, checking for any sign of him.

“He’s not here so you can stop looking. My son had a lucky escape by all accounts,” she sent a sneering look towards Bucky and then back to you. “Barely divorced and already moving on. I always suspected you were a whore; this just confirms it.”

Tears sprang to your eyes; she was publicly humiliating you. Calling you out for being a whore, when you had done nothing but be faithful to her son throughout your marriage and in fact whilst going through the long and bitter divorce. It was her son who couldn’t keep it in his pants. Anger took over and just as you were about to respond Bucky stood up and moved in front of you.

“Sorry I don’t know who you are, but you have no right to speak to anyone like that,” his voice low and urgent, his metal hand clenching and unclenching quickly by his side.

Eliza smirked, eyes flicking up and down at the man standing in front of her. “Ah I recognise you off the news, you two make the perfect match. Both damaged goods that no normal person could want.”

You stood up and went to stand by Bucky’s side, gently taking his arm in your hands. “That’s enough Eliza, we aren’t family anymore, you have made it evidently clear you want nothing to do with me. The feeling is very much mutual. We have nothing more to say to each other so goodbye.”

She let out a little exclamation of shock, but she quickly recovered her sharp exterior. Without saying another word, she just turned on her heels and left the coffee shop.

Bucky gently led you back to your seat, ignoring the people staring at both of you. You looked like you were in shock.

“Hey…” his thumb caught the tears that had begun to roll down your cheeks, “she’s not worth your tears.”

This seemed to finally snap you out of your daze. You look at Bucky and everything just seemed so overwhelming. He was being too kind. Eliza had been right, you were damaged, Bucky deserved more than you, someone who could at least be honest about themselves.

‘I’m sorry Bucky…” you grabbed your bag and tore yourself away from him, running out the café and onto the busy street.

He didn’t follow you immediately like he wanted to, he knew you needed some space. Bucky didn’t know you well but wanted to, he was going to be there for you if you let him. Besides he had an inkling about where you were.

You were exactly where he thought you would be, sat on a bench in the park, covered by a weeping willow.

“Mind if I sit,” you jumped at the intrusion. Bucky stood in front of you, holding two take-out cups from the coffee shop and what looked like a very chocolatey cookie.

All of you could do was nod, the shame of Eliza’s words and your own dishonesty still coursing through you.

“Here,” Bucky offered you the cup and you numbly accepted. “Do you want to split this?” he held up the bag and you rolled your eyes at him. “I mean, I’m quite happy to eat it all,” he sent you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help the little snort that escaped you. “We’ll split it, would hate for you to have to spend an extra hour in the gym burning off a whole cookie.”

“You’re too kind,” he teased, opening the bag and poking out the cookie for you to snap off half of it.

Both of you sat and ate without uttering a word to one another. You couldn’t believe he was being so nice to you; you certainly didn’t deserve it.

“I can see why you like it here so much,” Bucky commented, breaking the silence.

“Bucky, how did you know I’d be here?” You turned to face him and took a sip of your coffee.

“I’ve seen you here before. But before you think I’ve been stalking you let me explain. I grew up around here, a couple of blocks away actually. I like to come here for a walk sometimes to remember the happier more carefree times. I spotted you one day but you looked so content in your own little world, I didn’t want to interrupt.” His cheeks flushed slightly with his admission.

He cleared his throat and looked at the coffee cup in his hands before continuing. “Then I started coming here more regularly, hoping I would see you, but I never plucked up the courage to come and talk to you.”

“I’m sorry Bucky” you said quietly.

“That’s the second time you’ve apologised to me today and I still don’t know what you’ve got to be sorry about. It’s not your fault that woman was way out of line. You don’t owe me an apology for anything,” His brows knitted together with concern and it made you feel even more guilty.

“I should’ve told you about the divorce,” smiling ruefully, placing your empty coffee cup between you on the bench.

“I already knew,” he shrugged.

“What? How? I hadn’t told anyone at work,” you spluttered in shock.

“That’s how,” he nodded to where your thumb and forefinger were twisting around where your wedding ring used to be.

You let go immediately and shook your head. “Why did you ask me out for coffee if you knew about my divorce?”

It was perplexing to you that anyone would want to come anywhere near you after your divorce. You had just assumed you would be alone forever. No one had two people out there meant for them. Well, maybe Leon hadn’t been your one.

“We can’t help our past,” Bucky flexed his metal hand, “I know that better than most. All we can do is make the most of our future. I like you, have since I met you. In fact, Sam got so fed up of me talking about you, that he threatened to ask you out himself if I didn’t hurry up and get on with it. Not that I didn’t want to, it’s just thought you could do so much better that an ex-brainwashed assassin.”

“You’re a good man Bucky, anyone would be lucky to have you” you whispered.  

Bucky leant over and wiped away the tears you hadn’t realised had begun to roll down your cheeks. “I don’t just want anyone though,” His deep blue eyes peered into yours trying to get across his meaning.

“I like you too Bucky, but we’ve got to take this slow.” His face lit up at your words and he took your hand and pressed it to his lips.

“I’m over 100 years old, slow suits me. But seeing as our first date was hijacked would you like to get some dinner with me? I know a diner around the corner has the best burger in the city.”

“Sounds perfect, but only if you let me get it this time. I owe you for the coffee and the cookie.” You offered.

“I think I just about agree to terms of that deal,” Bucky laughed, scooped up the rubbish and got to his feet. “Shall we?” he asked, offering you his free hand.

You put your hand in his and got to your feet. “Let’s go.”

Gif not mine, credit to the creator

Divider made by the talented @firefly-graphics​

Taglists are open. Let me know if you want in or out

Everything:

@stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm @alexa-lightwood-blog, @angrythingstarlight, @drabblewithfrannybarnes, @rogueheretic555, @rebekahdawkins, @chrissquares, @pumpkin-and-pine, @hereforbuckyandsteve, @drakelover78, @baddie-barnes, @cas25214, @pandaxnienke, @thehumanistsdiary, @saiyanprincessswanie, @ladyacrasia, @sweeterthanthis, @joannie95, @lennon-knox, @navybrat817

Bucky:

@its-izzys, @archy3001

[rogerslovesstark]

Hi there! A huge fan 💜💙 I was wondering if your requests are open?

If yes, could you please write an angsty fic where in reader is dating Bucky and for some reason he belittles her and breaks off their relationship. After which eventually everyone on the team stops talking to her. She's forced to leave off on her own and struggles a lot. Later Bucky realises his mistake and tries to contact her but the old her is gone. Like she finds her own happiness. Sorry if it's too detailed☹️

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

WARNING: Angst

Your recruitment to the team was quick and very low-key. Almost no one knew that you had joined the Avengers because you requested Tony not to hold a press conference. You loved being an Avenger, the idea of helping people in need was so fulfilling.

However, the spotlight of being an Avenger was not pleasant. You did not know how Tony and Steve were able to handle it, the constant feeling of eyes on you, paparazzi almost always being on top of everything you do.

The few events you did go to, you stood with Bucky most of the time. He always kept you safe and comfortable while the party was booming. The two of you would walk around the venues Tony would rent out, looking at the architecture of the building, admiring the art that was around.

The conversation was kept minimal because there was already so much noise from the party. Both silently agreed that there was no need for extra noise.

It was the New Years Party two years ago where Bucky asked you if you wanted to slow dance. The Venue had multiple balconies and he chose the smallest one for the two of you to dance.

The two of you swayed to the soft music that could be heard from the party. Once the clock hit 12:00, Bucky leaned over and kissed you. You two began dating shortly after.

Every Sunday was a day for a date unless either of you had a mission. Every other week you planned a date for you and Bucky, walks in the park, restaurants, bars, everything you could think of.

You developed a dependency on Bucky. Always seeking his reassurance, seeking his comfort and touch. You felt as though you were not complete unless you were with Bucky. 

Your childhood was to blame, primarily your father. Physically, your dad was there but not emotionally. You never received emotional love from your father, the ‘I’m so proud of you’ or ‘you’re doing amazing’ Just a stiff nod.  

Being raised by your psychotic father was the reason you developed into the cold-hearted killer you were. From 16-19, you worked as a mercenary and killed for money.

You craved emotional validation from someone because you were so deprived of it when you were a child. You struggled to form relationships with others because of it too. That was one of the main reasons why you were not as close to the team.

Bucky would always smile at you, or kiss you when you were excited about something you would accomplish. On missions, he would always stay near you unless instructed otherwise by Steve. 

Bucky has been extremely off recently, always working with Steve, or working out with Sam, helping Wanda train her new abilities because it’s hard to kill a super-soldier than a normal human. 

He had missed five Sunday dates. Five of them. In those five weeks, you barely saw him and it was driving you crazy. You constantly would search for the time where the two of you could just be alone. You were so deprived of physical touch and emotional love, you began to fall into a depressive state. 

You walked towards the conference room, you asked Friday where Bucky was. She said he was in the conference room alone which is weird that she specified.

You opened the door and found Bucky just sitting on his phone. It was almost 10:30pm and he was just chilling in the conference room on his phone.

“Baby, I’ve been looking for you,” You said, walking over to him and running your hands along his broad and muscular shoulders. He was always so tense when he was sitting hunched over.

He shrugged you off his shoulders and turned to look at you. Not a soft, loving kind of look that a lover would typically give his lover; he gave a harsh glare as if you had done something to him. 

“God, you are so fucking annoying, you know that,” Bucky said. He grabbed that hand that was touching you and stood up from his chair. He let go of your hand rather quickly as soon as he stood from the chair. 

“I can’t fucking stand being around you Y/n, I don’t know why I ever asked you to be my fucking girlfriend,” He said, lowering his face closer to your face so the two of you were at eye level. 

Tears pooled in your eyes, every word he said was like a thin blade stabbing you in the stomach over and over again. You did not know what you did wrong, you had not even seen him in almost a week despite living with him.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I’ll be better, what can I do to be better, please,” You whispered, if your voice were any higher, you would being sobbing. 

Bucky just watched as you pathetically tried to hold your sobs in. You really were a weak woman and Bucky knew that. He knew that he held you in the palm of his hand and if he wanted to, he could break you.

He watched as your world crumbled around you because Bucky had decided to hurt you. Your hands were shaking and curled into fists. Your nose was turning red from holding back your tears.

“You are nothing without me, and I don’t want you anymore, so get the fuck out of my face and leave. No one on the team likes you, they would rather see you dead than ever have to see your horrific face ever again.” Bucky snarled, ready to see you burst into tears.

He knew that was the last straw.

You quickly turned around and left before you burst into tears. Bucky grabbed your arm and tried to turn you around, wanting to see you cry. You were forced to turn around, tears in your eyes pulling your hand back and smacking Bucky on his cheek. 

You left him dazed in the conference room. You ran to your shared room, collecting all your belongings. You had a small apartment in the heart of Montreal that no one knew about. You deliberately left off your information given to FRIDAY.

“FRIDAY, get rid of all information regarding Y/N L/N” You requested.

“Request denied, reasoning: unauthorized access to function,”

“Override denial, code Tony Stark has a fat ass” You rolled your eyes at the code Tony had told you to be used as a last resort code.

“Permission granted, removing all information regrading Y/N L/N,”

You grabbed a piece of paper on your desk, writing a short goodbye to Tony knowing he would wonder where you went. You quietly walk over to Tony’s office and placed it on the monitor he mainly used.

You left the compound shortly after, walking seven miles to the small car you planted in the forest. You prepared this as a last resort option. You never wanted to use this car but times were desperate and you had to get away from Bucky.

++++

You were struggling, barely able to figure out how to live on your own. The money you had saved from working for the Avengers was running low and the waitress job you did have has barely enough to pay the bills you had. 

Montreal was really expensive you ended up realizing, with such a horrible job, you sold your apartment and moved in with some college students in a small house. You shared a bedroom with one of the women in the house. 

Ashley, your roommate, actually found the job for you, she helped you changed your appearance and spotted your money whenever you were desperate for it.

You had no skill set for an actual job, the only skills you had were killing. And your skills had developed rapidly as an Avenger. You knew what you had to do to survive.

The first kill that you had was a child trafficker in Toronto. Ashley covered for you, saying you two would go to a spa for a girl's weekend. She stayed at the spa while you finished the job. You gave her 20% of the income made. 

You two had gotten close over the two years that you spent in the shared house. She was one of the only people that you trusted at this point. She suggested that you started therapy, which you decided to actually go to.

Your therapist wanted you to start realizing that you were more than who you surrounded yourself in. You deserved the love that you craved and you could only get it when you truly loved yourself.

++++

Bucky was laying in the bed the two of you shared. Two years had passed since he had driven you out of his life. He didn’t know why he did it, he was so upset because he saw you flirting with Tony. But Tony got engaged to Pepper only a few days later. 

After nine months of you being away, he started to crave your presence in his life. He asked FRIDAY where you were but she had no information on you. When FRIDAY said she had no information on you, he had one of the biggest meltdowns he ever experienced. 

You were officially gone from his life. Even with all the winter soldier experience of tracking people down, he couldn’t find you. Bucky knew that you were smart, you could hide in plain sight if you wanted to. 

It was in Toronto that he saw you again. Bucky’s whole world stopped after he saw you. You were so different now. Your hair was completely different from what he was used to, and you dressed differently too. 

It took him two months to finally get you to speak to him.

“What do you want Bucky?” The way you used to speak to him was so soft, now you were so cold towards him. Bucky’s stomach churned, almost nervous to respond to you.

“Y/n, please come back, I’m sorry for everything I have done to you, everything I said was a lie. I still love you” Bucky pleaded to you. 

“Bucky I’m not the same woman I used to be, you broke me, I was so broken and I was the only one who fixed me. You don’t get to come back after I learned how to not live with you.” You shouted at him.

Tears pooled in Bucky’s eye, he had lost the one person who had shown him, true love. The one person he wanted to protect for the rest of his life. He lost you, forever.

[fbfh]

here’s to always finding each other

pairing: percy x gn child of calliope reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings: percy kisses reader following a prior agreement that they don’t remember but it’s 100% consentual, you work retail, a hell yeah, memory loss, I think that’s it

summary: You didn’t really expect to have to spend your entire eight hour shift organizing shoe wax any more than you expected your fictional crush from middle school to be real and your boyfriend. Only one of those happened (and the shoe wax was still very disorganized when you left).

song rec: this lofi mix, boba manifesto - chris flemming (mostly as a joke but it slaps)

a/n: i am wOrKiNg oN tHiNgS!!!!!! It’s going well!!! expect some fun surprises soon!!!!!!!!!

Crouched down on the ground, rearranging an end cap of shoe wax in the men’s department wasn’t really what you thought being a grownup would be like as a kid. You can’t complain too much, the pay is pretty good and working conditions are decent - as much as they can be in retail. You stand up to check your progress (and stretch your legs) and notice that guy is still there. He’s been hovering around the athletic shirts and pants for a while, and he keeps checking his phone and looking around. You’re sure he’s probably just waiting for someone, but you’re considering asking if you can help him find anything. 

He has a vaguely familiar energy, and your stomach drops for a moment, hoping you don’t know him from school or something. God, that would be a nightmare. That’s happened to you once or twice, bumping into someone you went to school with, and it’s always as bad as you expect. 

‘You know what,’ you think, trying to see if you can fit the last few containers of wax on the shelf without making them topple over, ‘he’s probably fine. If he needs help he’ll ask for it.’ 

You go back to scanning and adjusting the prices of the clearance shoe polish - the company had changed their packaging recently, so it’s out with the old and in with the identical - but you still can’t shake the feeling of familiarity. 

He turns around, holding up an orange shirt that says ‘go for it’ in a ridiculous font, and you get a glimpse of his face. 

You crouch back down so he won’t catch you staring, and the realization dawns on you. He looks a lot like Percy Jackson from the books you read in middle school. Or was it high school? Everything between 6th grade and high school graduation is kind of blurry and confusing in your memory. Man, you should really re-read those, you heard there was a TV series in the works and you want to remember all the details for when it comes out. You’re a little surprised at how nervous that revelation makes you, like the feeling when you’re a kid going to a theme park and you can see the roller coasters as you pull into the parking lot. Weird. Anyway, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a customer who looks like a character from something. One time you saw someone who you swore looked just like Pidge from the Voltron reboot that came out a few years ago, and a coworker saw a girl who looked like an anime character she loves… Raka something? Her name sounded like gravity, but that wasn’t it. You shrug, making a mental note to ask her about it later. 

You stand up once again to take one final look before you move onto the next end cap, and see that the guy is standing next to you. You look up at him, and all those weird feelings of excitement and something close to anticipation amplify, as you get a closer look at him. He really, really looks like Percy Jackson. Like if the Viria art was a real person. 

“Uh… hi, can I help you find anything today?” You ask, snapping out of your daze and into your customer service voice. He takes a second before answering, and you’re a little unnerved by the way he’s looking at you; warm and intimately, like he’s known you for years. 

“No,” he replies, a dreamy tone to his voice, “I’ve got everything I need.” You’re pleasantly surprised and a little freaked out that he even has the accent. Seriously, if he’s not already, this guy should really get into cosplay. Also, is he flirting with you? He seems to realize what he just said, and backtracks slightly. 

“Actually, um, I was wondering if you could help me out with something over here,” he says, and you agree, in your signature chipper tone. He guides you to a table covered in various sweatpants behind a mirror. 

He glances around again, and you have to ask. 

“You know, if you’re having trouble finding someone we can-”

“Walkie customer service to have my group meet me at the front desk.” He finishes seamlessly. 

“It’s not my first time at the rodeo,” he chuckles, and you get the feeling there’s more meaning behind what he’s saying, like an inside joke you’re not a part of. 

“Oh… yeah.” you say, and he can sense your surprise, “How did you…” you trail off, and he can sense the silent question in your voice. He lets out a breathy chuckle, cheeks flushed pink.

“Like this.” 

He catches your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours. Your eyes widen in shock, mostly at the fact that you don’t feel threatened by his presence at all. You’re shocked at how comfortable you feel around him, how you feel in your bones that you’ve known him for years when the logical side of your brain is telling you that you first saw him ten minutes ago. He pulls away, searching your eyes for… something. 

“Uh…” you glance away, brow slightly furrowed, then back up at him, “what the fuck?” 

His expression softens, and he says gently, “Give it a minute.” 

You’re about to ask him to give what a minute, when a barrage of memories, feelings, people you don’t think you’ve ever met but seemed to be best friends with knocks you off your feet. You try to take in a breath, but the air in the room seems to have taken a temporary vacation from your lungs. 

You look up at him, eyes flared in understanding and shock. He mutters something in confirmation. Someone yells nearby, and you both look over to an adolescent boy asking his mom why he can’t wear neon basketball shorts to school. Percy looks back over at you.

“Is there somewhere a little more-” the mom starts arguing back and forth with her son at a louder volume, and he continues, “private… where we could talk?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll… I’ll get somewhere.”

A few minutes later, you’re sitting across from each other on two step stools in one of the stock rooms. You’re still surprised at how easily you had lied to your boss that your long distance boyfriend showed up a few weeks early after over a year of not being able to see each other, and you needed a moment to catch up. She had agreed readily, asking that you tell her when you’re ready to get back to your tasks. 

“I’m sorry about that,” he starts, snapping you out of your train of thought, and you look up at him, “I never would have kissed you without asking, but you made me promise last time that the next time you lose your memories I would get them back to you as fast as I can.” 

“Uh, it’s okay, I feel like I remember talking about that.” Your memories are still fuzzy, but coming back sporadically.

“It can take a few days for them to come back fully.” He adds. 

The most surreal part of this is you remember vividly what happened in the books - because you lived through it. You hold back a giddy laugh bubbling up.

“So…” you begin, and he looks at you, his gaze warm, “it’s all real?” you breathe the words, almost afraid of an answer. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking away briefly, overwhelmed that you’re with him once again.

“The short version is, since your godly parent is Calliope, you sometimes get sent to other worlds. You kind of have to hop scotch from one place to another, like getting a goldfish used to a new bowl of water. The mist - or sometimes,” he glances up, pointedly and irritable, “other factors - usually take away a lot of your memories. They say it’s to make the transition easier, but who knows. Anyway, there are these waypoints, kind of like a time loop that you hang out in until you’re either ready to leave or one of us finds you first.”

“So this…” you motion around to the rows of cardboard boxes filled with plastic cups and paper towels. He nods and you let out a laugh of relief that you really won’t have to work here long term. 

“As soon as you’re ready we should probably head out to camp. It’s gonna be a bit of a drive.” 

“Wait, it’s all like… here? Like in this world?”

“Yeah,” he smiles again, once more sending butterflies through your chest. 

You let out a disbelieving, excited laugh.

“Alright. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.” 

Before you can get up, he takes your hand in his. He watches his fingers skim back and forth for a minute before looking up at you. 

“You know that I’ll always find you, right?” there’s an overwhelming torrent of emotions he’s somehow managing to convey through his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter where you go, or how long you’re gone, or if we even remember each other. I will always find you.” His hand comes up to your cheek for the second time today, and your head tilts into his embrace automatically. You somehow trust him more than anyone or anything else right now. You nod gently.

“I do.”

He glances away again, cheeks flushing red, and he sighs, kissing your forehead. 

You get up and head towards the exit together, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“How about we get some bubble tea once we’re in the city?”

“Oh hell yeah!” 

You don’t remember the last time you had bubble tea, but it sounds really, really good right now. 

[eideticmemory]

TWO GHOSTS II | MATTHEW G. GUBLER

It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Part 2! Read Part 1.

Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!

Word Count: 3.1k.

Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.

SOUNDTRACK:

After Hours - The Velvet Underground

Mr. Loverman - Ricky Montgomery

Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now - The Smiths

“Ramona . . .” you whine.

“I know . . . a mess.”

“I, uh,” you set your phone down, keeping Ramona’s voice on speaker. “I have to get out of this hotel, I have to get home.”

“[y/n], no.”

“No?”

“No.”

You begin changing out of your pajamas, your hands trembling as you slip on a pair of jeans. “Are you telling me I can’t go home right now? Seriously?”

“Seriously. Unless you wanna get swarmed by paparazzi, and risk leaving the hotel at the same time as him, you need to stay put.”

“This . . . this . . . is a mess. This is a huge mess, I — Ramona, I’m leaving.” You ramble, grabbing your things from the bedside dresser.

“[y/n] [y/l/n].” Ramona says, sternly. “You are my boss, but I have direct orders from your publicist to make sure you stay put. So, sit down, chill out, I’ll be there in five. And, honestly . . . you should have some wine.”

“Wha — wine? It’s seven in the morning.”

“Y’know what? You deserve it. Be there soon.”

She was already on the way when she hung up, and when she knocks on the door, you’re sat criss-cross on the bed, sipping a glass of wine. She’s right, you deserve it. You hold the fragile cup in your hand as you open the door, and she waltzes her way in.

“You calm now?” she asks.

“Medicated,” you shrug, holding the glass of wine up in the air.

“Perfect . . . so, were you ever going to tell anyone that you used to date Matthew Gray Gubler?”

You scoff, wander through the hotel room, “I didn’t date Matthew Gubler,” you take a seat on the bed.

“Okay, were you going to mention that you used to fuck Matthew Gray Gubler?” She crosses her arms.

“I . . .” you stutter, go silent in response.

“Oh, God,” she groans.

“It was a long, long time ago! It’s no one’s business, and there’s hardly any proof that it’s anything but a rumor.”

“No proof? —“ She shakes her head, pulling her iPad from her bag. As she clicks a few buttons, she adds, “Did you not see what people were saying? . . . The pictures?”

“Pictures?” You gasp, setting you glass down. “What pictures?”

Ramona sighs, and hands the iPad over to you, avoiding eye contact. You slowly take the device from her hands, and let out a shaky breath.

“The first two were posted a, um, John Hearse on twitter . . .” she explains.

“I mean, if you and Gube just . . . I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”

Ramona’s words start to fade, to rescind to dust and ash, as you absorb the image in front of you. It’s old . . . and slightly blurry, but you recognize every face. John, Steve, Matthew . . . and you, sat in his lap, head on his shoulder with a huge, bright smile on your face. Matthew had his hand on your waist, practically gripping your shirt in his hand, keeping you close. The next picture, he was making you laugh, all three of you, as you looked, lovingly, into his eyes.

They were posted in response to a final picture, of you and Matthew reuniting. You looking, literally, like an idiot, in the daze of seeing him and recieving a hug. Some professional photographer had captured the whole thing.

John’s pictures are captioned: Whoaaa glad to see these two back together!

“They used to be, heh,” you chuckle dryly to yourself as you read the tweet outloud. “Inseparable, wow. Remind me to call John up later and yell at him until he cries.”

“Wh — what happened between you two?”

“Me and John? Nothing much, we were good friends,” you shrug.

“No — [y/n], c’mon . . .” Ramona groans.

“It would take,” you sigh. “So much time, and so much energy for me to tell that story right now. I don’t have it in me, Ramona, I just . . . I just want to go home.”

“The place is surrounded by paparazzi, they’re harassing every celebrity that leaves the building, and I’m pretty sure your high on their watchlist right now.”

“Yeah, I’ve mastered the art of ignoring them, I’ll be fine, just call me a ride, please,” you grumble, setting the iPad down and rising to your feet.

She sighs, giving in, giving up, “There’s one waiting for you out front.”

“Thank you,” you nod.

Your belongings are removed from the room first, carried down by an accommodating bellhop. Ramona followed you down to the lobby, trailing you, like she always did. But keeping a closer eye on you than usual. You stopped in front of the revolving door, lips pursed in a look of annoyance as you came face to face with the hoard of paparazzi.

They noticed you through the glass before you had the chance to take a breath, and if you stood still for too long, you feared it would show as weakness, a reason to be suspicious. So, you held your head up tall, took in a deep breath, and stepped into the spotlight.

You’ve mastered the look of constantly-tired-business-woman-chic. Today, you’re running off a cup of coffee, and as always, throw on jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Comfortable shoes, because those heels destroyed your feet last night.

It’s a short walk to the car, but a million and one pictures are taken of you. You smile, respectfully, do a little wave. Don’t want to look too bitter. You drown out the questions, drown out the comments, because you swear if you hear his name, you’ll roll your eyes.

Ramona gets into the car after you, and closes the door. You let out a long sigh, and sulk in your seat. “This sucks,” you mumble, the car staring the ten minute drive to your home.

“Okay, [y/n] Gubler,” she replies.

“Hey!” You sit up. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she whines. “I knew something was off last night. I could’ve helped you avoid him, I could’ve gotten his car towed, I could’ve sent him the wrong address. You just have to communicate.”

“That is . . . unprofessional, and Matthew Gubler is, apparently, very professional. And he . . .” you trail off.

“He . . ? What?”

“He, donated a very healthy amount of money to the program, which, has nothing to do with me, by the way. None of it has anything to do with me, he’s just . . . professional.” You roll your eyes.

“What the hell happened between you two?” Ramona asks, noticing your shift in tone.

“Ooh, damn!” You ignore her, looking out the window. “We should’ve stopped and grabbed donuts.”

“Fine,” she surrenders.

You were surprised to find no paparazzi surrounding your penthouse building. Ramona had packed away all your belongings, and sent someone inside to place them in your apartment.

“Stay off social media,” she tells you before you leave. “Okay? No posting.”

“Silent stalking, only. Got it.”

You hold your phone in your hand as you walk into the building, ride the elevator up to the fifth floor. It’s quiet, and it’s what you need right now. To be home alone, with your thoughts.

You crash onto the couch, face first, and groan as you roll over. Last night should’ve been joyous, and fun, and it was. But, it was supposed to be the end. It was supposed to bring peace, knowing that everything you worked for, payed off and went out with a bang.

But, because of him, and John, and these stupid pictures, it’s far from the end. A whole new storm has started, and it’s making you nauseous.

Yet, you can’t keep yourself offline. You spend hours scrolling through tweet upon tweet, instagram post after instagram post, and each and every comment is as gut wrenching as the last. The internet’s made up it’s mind, and you and Matthew Gubler are the perfect couple. You fit together, you look right together, you have history together.

A history that was better left buried.

Because, when it comes up, when you think about, and you think about that one decision that could’ve changed everything . . . you crack. You spiral. You can’t shake it for days. Weeks. You think about him, and what you could’ve been.

It’s a hurricane, and it sweeps you up everytime, even when you know it’s coming.

There’s a knock at the door, and your heart drops. It’s naive, and childish to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s him. Coming to apologize for being a dick. But the idea of it has you racing to the door, and flinging it open before you can think about it.

“Hey, Aunt [y/n]!”

“Hey,” Claire smiles. “We brought donuts.”

This is better.

The seven year old held onto your hand as you guided her and her mother in your apartment. “Oh, my goodness,” you beamed to Dorthy, earning a bright smile from her. “Is Roni with you?” You turned to ask Claire.

“She had to help her mother with something today, but I told her that I had to help you through a serious crisis.”

“Ah,” you nod. “You’ve been online, huh?”

You take a seat with Dorothea on the couch, turn on the TV. “Wanna pick something to watch?” You smile, and she nods happily, taking the remote from you.

You join Claire in the kitchen, and she hands you a cookies and cream donut. You hum happily as you take it from her, take a seat on the counter, “God, thank you.”

She nods, “Yes, I’ve been online. I’ve been tracking everything about you and your big, big night,” she chuckles. “So I was ready to run over here when I saw those pictures going around.”

“You saw them?” You gasp, horrified, with the donut hanging from your mouth.

“Oh, yeah, I don’t remember when they were taken, though?”

“Vegas, 2001,” you tell her. “You didn’t — you didn’t come with us.”

She sighs, tilts her head at you, “[y/n] . . .”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you nod, reassuringly. “I’m not going down a Matthew rabbit hole. Not right now. Y’know why? Because he is an ass, he’s rude, and disrespectful, and stirs shit up for no reason, and —“

“Whoa!” Claire exclaims. “Did I enter a time portal to 1999 or something?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you roll your eyes.

“[y/n], you knew seeing Matthew was a possibility last night, and that it would bring back all these emotions, and you swore you could handle it —“

“I did handle it! I handled it very, very well. He’s the one who lost his cool. You should’ve heard him, Claire,” you ramble. “Nothing I did tonight has anything to do with you? I’m a professional? I didn’t do it to cushion your feelings? He’s a dick! He — he threw everything in my face the minute he could, and now my name is connected to his, our history is out there for everyone to see, and . . . he probably fucking hates me,” you laugh.

You laugh.

It’s a dry laugh, a sad laugh.

Claire frowns, and steps over to you, putting her arm around your shoulders.

“He hates me,” you say. “And he probably has every reason to. But I can handle it. I can handle the emotions, I’ve handled them for a long time,” you look at her. “And it’s not my fault if he can’t do the same, right?”

Claire sighs, pushes your hair back, “No.” She shakes her head. “No, you’ve moved on. You should want him to do the same thing, and not cause anymore hurt. You deserve that.”

“Mom! Aunt [y/n]!” Dorthy calls from the couch. Her head pops up, and she grins at you two. “Best and Ballet is on!”

“Ooh, what show is that?” You chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “I’ve never heard of it before.”

“Hey,” Claire calls, grabbing onto your arm before you can walk into the living room. “It’s like everything else in show business, right? People will talk for a few days, maybe a week, right? And then it’ll fade. It’ll pass.”

You give her a nod, let her know that you hear her, and that you’re going to push through this. Because you have no choice. Because above being a celebrity, a figurehead, a boss, a producer . . . you’re a teacher. A damn good one, and the last person who’s going to change that is Matthew Gubler.

You pack him away. The idea of him. Tie him off with a neat, little bow.

Because the show must go on.

“Rolling!”

You walk across the studio, behind the cameras, watching your students on screen. “Can you get a wide shot? You’re not getting the best lighting, nor every student in one shot.” You say to the cinematographer.

“[y/n],” the director calls. “We film from this angle every episode. Why change it?”

“Because every episode, some of my best dancers are cut from the shot beside of sloppy angles and the light from the windows blinds the mirrors the cameras?”

“Those are things out of our control.”

“Oh, yeah?” you turn to him. “You wanna tell that to someone who didn’t go to film school? . . . Twice?”

He gulps, motions to the cinematographer, “Change the shot.”

You grin, order the camera woman to make the correct adjustments, “See?” You beam. “No glare.”

You walk off, Ramona trailing behind you, giving the director a pitiful smile. Once you’re away from the cameras, and the studio, you grumble, “Remind me to never be talked into hiring a male director again.

“You’re turning into Medusa.”

“What?” You look at her, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What? You’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy? Medusa? Turns people into stone? A . . . bitch?”

“Actual Medusa was not a bitch, she was cursed by a man.”

“Okay, fair, you were cursed by a man —“

“Dooooon’t!” You roll your eyes. “I’m not Medusa, I’m very nice.”

“You’re nice to me, and to your students, and the nice ladies that do your hair and makeup. Everyone else, stone.”

“Stop.”

“I wish you would tell me what happened,” she groans. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone! I’m just, worried about you, and a little nosey.”

“Ramona . . . it’s been how long since that weekend?”

“Well, well,” she stutters. “Only a week.”

“A week is a long time, I’ve moved on. I’ve avoided any and all questions on the subject, from everyone. I’ve been actively dodging it on social media. I’m doing well.”

She nods.

“Now,” you continue to walk down the hall. “I have a talk show interview tonight? What time do I have to be there?”

You stop when you realize Ramona isn’t following you. You turn around, and she stuck in her spot.

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“Can’t move. Been turned to stone.”

You hated the Medusa comparison wholeheartedly. But, right now, you just want to yell at whoever booked you for a late night talk show. You’re tired after a long day of work, and you’re cranky, and crabby, and maybe, just maybe . . . the comparison isn’t too far off right now.

You’re charming, sure. Let’s go with that. But now, it’s all starting to dawn on you. Here, in this dressing room that’s lit up like a christmas tree. Revealing every ounce of exhaustion in your face, in your eyes. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, and you’re placed in an elegant, black dress that stops just above your knees. Black heels cover your feet, and your hair and makeup were done half an hour ago.

You have to figure it out. You test different ones out in the mirror. Different smiles. You have to nail the I-have-to-talk-about-myself-for-an-hour-and-laugh smile. The happy, glowing, kind smile. You think you have it when there’s a knock on the door.

You keep the smile on, don’t want to lose it. You call Ramona in, and she looks at you, curiously. “You okay?”

“Yep,” you nod, brightening your smile. “Show time?”

“Are — are you having a stroke?”

“Okay, I’m trying to put on my interview face here, you’re not helping.”

“Sorry, sorry, you look great!” You smiles.

“Ramona,” you whisper, stepping close to her. “There’s a good chance they’re gonna ask me about him, right?”

She takes a breath in, prepared to answer, but no words come out. Your eyes are wide, innocent, hopeful. And she hates to lie to you.

“Yes . . .” is all she can say. “There is a, very, very good chance they will ask you about him.”

You sigh, duck your head. And when you pick it back up, your smile is on. “Okay, let’s go.” You step out into the hallway, Ramona closing the door behind you.

It was a time portal. The door. The hallway.

Matthew’s eyes land on you at the same time you see him, and you both freeze. Ramona bites at her nails, anxiously eyeing the two of you.

You feel your body, your soul, revert. Regress in every way to embody the spirit of you, at age 18, about 18 years ago.

You scoff, meaning your next words with every fiber of your being, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

TAGLIST:

@muffin-cup

@pinkdiamond1016

@ncsls0515

@spencersbed

@safertokiss

@calm-and-doctor

@spencerreid-mgg

@reidsconverse

@sizzlingclamturtlesludge

[mxnrly]

the red house, changkyun

⠀

slight nsfw, thriller !

I wrote this like a year ago, when this song came out and I fell in love with the mv and the lyrics. If you want to see what the song is, here it is. Either way, I'm editing this at 2 am because I felt the need of posting it. I originally wrote this in spanish and it really took me a while sjdjs I hope you like it tho! 

tw: not too explicit nsfw, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamic (both are switches, y’all see), pet name,  mentions of blood. 

wc: 6.8k

⠀

An idiot.

That's what I liked to call the kid who lived across the street. An undoubtedly attractive boy. Gorgeous and with a sensual aura like no other. He had an attractive look, and his presence was always full of mystery. He looked like a demon brought from hell, always wearing those dark denim pants that stuck to his legs, a white long-sleeved shirt and a leather jacket set with the logo of a serpent crossed with two swords.

His hair was always messy, because it was straight and he used to run his hand through it at all times. Not that I was constantly looking at him but, it was a twitch I had gotten used to seeing since I had known him.

The boy had been my neighbor for two years now, and every Saturday it was the same, he would leave the house and not come back until the next day. Whenever I told my best friend about him leaving, he told me to just stay away from him, that if I really wanted to keep his trust I should just forget about that boy and move on with my life. But, it was so easy to say or think about it, but not do it. Somehow, being neighbors was making my life difficult because now it seemed that my walls wanted to know about him too and they were getting thinner so that I could hear from when he was leaving until when he arrived.

My best friend's older brother, Jooheon, was the neighbor's best friend. I knew this because I had already seen him in front of the boy's door with his car, a black '69 GTO convertible and a beer in his hand. The two of them got along great because every day since I lived there, they always went out at the same time, no matter what.

That night I was partying with my best friend and a girl with whom I had started to form a friendship because she was in the art department, although she was just a year younger than us.

“You're crazy if you think we're going to let you go.” And there I was, another Saturday night wanting to go wherever my neighbors were.

“I see you've been very interested in him for a long time, what do you think they are doing?” asked the girl while Jooheon and the idiot went inside their house.

“I really don't know, but since he came to this place I want-”

“You want nothing, God, stop making her get any ideas." scolded the boy to the other girl.

The room suddenly became silent, and then somehow, I started to feel my throat and stomach warm. “I don't understand why you don't want me to go.”

“We've talked about this a million times. I'm just protecting you.”

“But from what? I won't know if you don't let me come closer.” My voice was getting louder and louder until it exploded. “You won't let me get close but I know you're as curious as I am, Jooheon is your brother!”

“Jooheon comes back every morning smelling of alcohol and cheap women's perfume. There are always cigarettes in his car and I've found underwear in the glove compartment, do you really want to continue with that curiosity? I don't know exactly what those two do but, believe me, they don't go to a lake to drink and have fun, they have their plans, do strange things and then come back as if nothing had happened.”

“Didn't you try to tell your mother?" asked the younger girl, suddenly causing the boy to deny instantly.

“One of the rules Heon gave me was that I had to keep silence, first of all if, I wanted to continue living with him. Until I'm legal, I can't buy an apartment on my own." he said with a shrug.

Silence reigned again somehow. There was only the faint music of an American artist whom we did not really know.

Staying out until the morning, I can hear the door.

I can smell all the whiskey and the smoke on your breath.

A chill ran down my back and I sighed. “I'm sleepy guys, the day was really exhausting from the beginning and we have a test on Monday so I want to take tomorrow off at dawn to study." I said faster than I planned.

Because tonight, sleep was the last thing in my plans.

Once they had left my house, I went to my room to change my clothes. I put on something comfortable to keep up with them. With my shoes on, I left my house taking my car keys. The boys were leaving the house so I had to hide quickly behind the vehicle. I felt the heaviness in my chest from doing something against my morals.

The sound of the GTO engine took me out of my thoughts. They came quietly out of the parking lot, giving me time to get into my car and start it. My heart started pounding but I stayed focused and started following the boys' car with some distance. They were getting further and further away from the circle of places I knew, but my curiosity seemed to dominate at this point over reason. I knew that was a bad sign, but I had gone far enough to take it back.

The car quickly drove off the road into some black buildings. Now, I knew that if I followed them in there I would look very obvious, so I drove past the place and saw that there was no way out. They were parked in front of a wall that was purple because of the neon light up there. Debating whether to go or not, I finally turned off the vehicle and started getting out of it.

I walked to the large green door which was lit by the purple light, noticing that, from the wall, a strange vibration could be felt. Music. That's all it could be.

I opened the door and instantly smelled the stench of nicotine and liquor. There was a certain mixture of lotions and perfumes that made everything more intense. The door closed behind me, making me shudder. Hell, I wanted to go home.

Resigned, I began to walk around the place watching my feet because there seemed to be unevenness everywhere. The place was painted red, although it was because of the coloured lights on the sides of different walls. Red was the only thing you saw, everything was tinted and it seemed to be a much scarier place than it really was.

I took the first glass I saw, smelling the strong smell of tequila and mint. I grimaced a little and took a sip, as I put it back in its place again. I couldn't see the boys anywhere and that was starting to scare me. What if they were somewhere else and had deceived me?

I was overthinking the situation, when I felt a strong pull on my arm. Someone had taken me in a very firm manner. Before I could protest, the person who had alienated me showed his face.

And I saw him. I was dazed at seeing his face tinted by the red lights.

“I told you not to come, why don't you ever listen to me?”  my best friend, the one who always prohibited me to come to where his brother was, asked almost above the level of the music. My mind was beginning to wander, but I held on.

“What do you mean, don't come? You had told me that you had no idea what they were doing, and now it turns out that you are one of them?”

The boy rubbed his face lightly and took me by the shoulders. “You're crazy, they're going to kill you. Get out of here, now.”

That made my world stop. Kill?

“What are you saying?” But before he could even answer, the light went out making the music go away, causing all the people to scream. Several people beside me ran past, knocking me to the ground, and I feared the worst.

I squatted in fear without really knowing what to do, when I suddenly stopped and hit someone running in my direction. I felt a camera flash in my face and my stomach turned over. The flash went off leaving me stunned. The person took my hand and started running towards what appeared to be the other side of the room, opposite the direction of where the exit door was. Suddenly the screaming stopped and the door lock was heard being set. My legs shook and I swallowed hard. I didn't know anything about self-defense, so I thought about the only thing I was supposed to protect myself and that was my car keys. I grabbed, with each key I had between my fingers, making a fist with spikes in case this person got too far.

Then the light came, but not the artificial light. A natural light. A candle.

I looked at the back of the person who had lit the device, noticing a snake on his back. Oh God.

“You're lucky I brought you this far. People usually die in the state you were in, not to mention that it's your first time in the red house.”

My mind was spinning. Death? Red house?

“I'm sorry, I…”

“I know you don't understand anything, you don't have to worry, (Y/N). Things are simple…”

“Wait wait, how do you know my name?”

The boy smiled, but only because he didn't answer my question. “I am Changkyun, so we are even.”

A small silence formed. There were hasty footsteps on the other side of the door and desperate hands trying to find a room, I supposed.

“Quiet," he said, "no one is going to come in, but they can’t know that we’re here.”

“So, are you going to explain to me what this is all about?” I asked, anxiety in my voice.

“Listen, this place isn't for people like you," he said with a dark look in his eye. “Every Saturday there is a massive party where people come to play something like hide and seek," he said with a touch of mockery, but there was more to his voice than that. “There are people who are the "seekers", those who look for people to catch them, when the lights go out, people have ten minutes to run and hide without being able to leave the place, and when those ten minutes are over…”

A loud noise that made the whole building rumble was heard loud and clear. Changkyun smiled and looked at me. “It is time to play.”

The boy reached inside his jacket and looked at me before taking the goatee. “Don't leave here until I come back for you. Don't open the door for anyone, understand?”

My nod did not reach his eyes for he had already left the room and locked it again before closing the door behind him. I turned around to look around, finding a couch that looked warm, a rug in the middle of the room, and a mini-bar. I didn't want to wonder what the room was for because there were other strange surfaces.

I sighed as I sat on the couch with the candle in my hand. The idiot was into this kind of game, but I still didn't understand enough, what did he mean when he said it was time to play? The idea that this was a deadly game haunted me, but it couldn't be that murky. I unconsciously denied it by huddling more in my place. A few screams were heard outside the room, causing me to shiver. Good Lord, what was all that about?

I couldn't just stand here, what if I'd just been set up? Yes! That had to be it.

I approached the door slowly, removing the latch and preparing to leave when I felt the door open from the outside. It was Changkyun rushing in, panting without facing me. I looked at his back with curiosity, without blowing out the candle, he turned to see me. I could see the drops of what appeared to be blood on his shirt and face.

My body froze.

"Run"

My movements went faster than I thought trying to go around him to escape through the door that was still open, however a gust of wind hit my face when I noticed the door closing with twice the speed I was going. I closed my eyes in fear and lowered my head. Was I really going to die now?

“Raise your head, we must get out of here," he said, puzzling me.

“Aren’t you gonna kill me?” I asked, but he didn't answer. He walked past me and opened the only window in the room wide, tore the spring and squatted on the frame. And out of nowhere, I lost sight of him.

I screamed as I saw him fall. Rushing to the frame, I saw him standing in the grass on that side of the place. I wondered how come we were on the second floor if, in my memory, I hadn't walked up the stairs.

“Jump!” He shouted from below, showing his arms in front of him.

“You're crazy!” I shouted in annoyance looking behind me. There was no way he could make me jump.

“They're going to kill you. Come here.”

“How do I know you won't kill me?” I asked, scared, my throat tightening. I looked at the free fall I would have and felt the air get stuck in my chest.

”We'll go home, I promise, I'll tell you everything, but please come with me," he begged, and it was the first time I'd seen him this worried. He always used to look relaxed and without any worry in him, but the reality just now was different.

My shoulders fell in place. I would die anyway. The screams kept coming from the door, when it suddenly opened. The latch had never been set and now it was just me and death. I looked over my shoulder, noticing a figure approaching.

“Please!" was the last thing I heard before I fell freely through the door frame.

And everything went black.

A severe headache was constantly poking at my head. The back of my eyes hurt, as if I had been looking at the artificial light for a long time. I was cold and somehow I could think it was midnight. Hearing noise in the distance, I sat down where I had been lying. It was my living room, but there was someone else. My heartbeat quickly started to increase when I remembered a little of what had happened.

“You woke up. Here, I made you some tea, but I'm not good at anything that has to do with cooking so I don't think it tastes like anything," said the idiot, suddenly appearing with a half smile, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort.

I tasted it and indeed, it tasted like nothing but bitter water, but I didn't tell him. I just took a deep breath and looked at it. He was looking at me so intently that I almost forgot what had happened. The stains on his shirt gave him away and he wasn't wearing his jacket.

“What happened," I asked, holding the cup in both hands so that he could give me some warmth. Changkyun sighed and sat down beside me. “You fainted, I think from the fright and the mixed emotions. I had no car, so I went through your pockets and found your keys and brought us home.”

Listening at his statement, I took a look outside my house seeing the car perfectly parked in the driveway. “Did you put your hands in my pants?” I asked with a scowl.

The boy instantly raised his hands in fright. “No, the keys were in your sweatshirt," he said, clearing his throat after that. “I'm sorry you were there, you really can't go back…”

“I want to know everything about that place, though…” Changkyun looked at me with doubt, and I put the cup down on the small coffee table. “You said you would explain everything if I threw myself out of the window, and here we are so start talking.”

“Well,” he was a bit quiet after that, as if trying to find the right words. “every Saturday there's a massive party at that place. Everyone knows about that party because of its high class alcohol and good vibes, but everything has its price. When it's eleven o'clock, the lights go out and people have to hide, of course, the ones who know what the game is about, the ones who don't, just run around senselessly. You have ten minutes to hide wherever you want in the house and when those ten minutes are up, the seekers come out to have some fun. What we call, "the wolf." Have you ever heard the nursery rhyme of, "We'll play in the forest while the wolf is away? Well, that's what it's about. They go out at ten past eleven to kill anyone they can get their hands on, lights out. When another ten minutes go by, the lights come back on and the party's over.”

My surprised face seemed to alarm him as he got nervous and looked down. “Once you enter the red house parties, you can't stop attending, because after that day, they know all about you and will do his best to see you die. The red house is a secret, no one should tell the police, and there has to be a winner. One that's left alive among all of us…”

“Then you and Jooheon…”

“Yes, he and I went into those parties three years ago, but after the first one we were as scared as anyone else. We left intact and tried to just forget about it and move on with our lives, but the seekers were smarter. They started sending us letters threatening to come back or kill anyone we came in contact with. We tried to move but nothing worked, so... We had no choice but to play the game.”

“But why are you the one who's full of blood? I could bet you're carrying a knife in your jacket right now.” I accused him, staring at his stained shirt.

“I'm carrying a knife because we've formed a clan. We're seven people from different places and ages who are willing to kill the seekers to end this nonsense, but... They have lots of henchmen, too, and every Saturday it seems to get harder.”

I looked at the clock on the wall in front of us striking twelve in the morning. I felt somehow agitated and helpless. “Jooheon’s little brother told me that you were beginning to be interested in going to the parties, but he never let you because we knew what you would be exposed to. He is an ally, not a member of the clan, but because of Jooheon he ended up in trouble. You were really warned, you have to run away, or dig a hole and stay there…’

‘What if I fight with you?’ I said but I felt I should have kept quiet. His gaze became darker as his breathing became heavier.

“I would never let you expose yourself to that, you are crazy.” His tone was so authoritative that I did not know whether I wanted to challenge him or obey his order.

“Listen, you said that somehow the seekers know who you are. Before I jumped out the window a man saw me, they know who I am already... I might as well die so let me fight for my life.”

“I can't let those bastards hurt you.”  his voice seemed to get deeper as time went by. “I won't let them touch a single strand of your hair.”.

His attitude took me by surprise. “Changkyun…” I tried to negotiate with him, come to an agreement.

My voice was interrupted as I was whipped on my back, with both of his hands around my wrists pinching any possible movement. I had him so close, God. He smelled of pure masculinity... of heavy, dark perfume mixed with sweat. I inhaled without wanting to look too harassing, but it was impossible to go unnoticed by the boy's eyes, who smiled so charmingly.

“You are not going to die... Not tonight, not ever," he whispered close to my lips. I stuck out my tongue as a reflection and that drew the boy's gaze upon me. His eyes connected with mine, directing them a few milliseconds to my lips and back to my eyes, as if to say let me kiss you.

I inhaled hard again filling my lungs with his scent, starting to feel the weight of his lips on mine. I closed my eyes on contact and I could swear I had tasted an aphrodisiac. The texture was so similar to silk but the depth with which he took me was so mesmerizing that my brain threatened to fade again. I opened my eyes, noticing her eyelashes lying so thinly on his cheeks, which were slightly flushed. His black bangs tickled my eyebrows because of the closeness. Slowly he let go of my wrists, giving me way to touching his shoulders and running my arms around his neck, as I felt his muscles contracting. One of his hands went down to my waist in circles, while the other remained steady on my cheek, not letting its weight fall entirely.

His back muscles tensed and relaxed as my tongue gently traced his lower lip, seeking to deepen the kiss. Changkyun gladly agreed to begin a delightful dance, each taking his time to delve into the other's body. Changkyun pressed his body against mine, causing me to gasp, which separated me from the kiss, causing us to open our eyes to see each other. His lips were tinged with a light and beautiful red, while I happened to notice a glint above his left eye. I reached out with one hand to clear his bangs and found a striking detail on eyebrow. A captivating perching that lit a flame inside me.

I brought him back to my lips and we enjoyed each other's company all night long. Maybe this game thing could be a reason to see each other more often.

I woke up in my room, in a horrible heat. My neck and back were sweating, which made me instantly sick. It was 7:00 in the morning and it was already so damn hot. I took a shower and went into the living room to find Changkyun's body lying on the couch. His jacket was on one of the kitchen chairs, so I went over to check it out. I reached into the first pocket, instantly pulling out the knife I knew he was carrying. It was partially covered in blood. Feeling an electric shock down my spine, I couldn't help but sigh deeply. At any rate, Changkyun was the good guy, right?

I found his cell phone, but I felt his stare on the side of my head. I turned around to see that Changkyun had woken up but not only that, he was looking directly at me.

“Are you looking for something that proves the opposite of what I showed you yesterday?”

“I am.” I said, nodding.

“Damn it, I thought everything was all right," he said in a hoarse voice, snatching his cell phone from me.

I frowned and shrugged. “You always have to be careful.”

That seemed to insult him as he looked at me skeptically. Not giving a second glance at him, I headed to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice. The boy quickly went to the refrigerator to pour himself the same drink. I noticed the smell of last night with more intensity and turned around to see it. He wasn't wearing a shirt.

The liquid froze in my throat making me feel the sudden acidity, causing my body to cough slightly. The image that I had in my kitchen was worthy of admiration but I simply could not stand it at seven in the morning. Changkyun laughed and tapped my back.

“I'm sorry to surprise you, it's just that it's hot," he said as if it were the most normal thing to do. My eyes rolled back in their narcissism and I headed for my living room.

“Don't you want to take a shower?”

The boy moved his eyebrows suggestively. “Do you want to see me all wet and naked?”

My face turned a deep red and I had to refrain from throwing the remaining juice in the glass. “At your house, you idiot.”

“Yes, try to fix your horniness.” He said, taking his clothes. “I'll be back in a minute, princess.”

I fake gagged at the pet name and rolled my eyes. He put his shirt back on and left my house giving me time to breathe. God, couldn't I be in the same place as him for one more minute without thinking about indecent things?

After a few minutes of searching for something to watch on netflix, I settled down on my couch when the doorbell rang.

“It's still open.” I yelled because I assumed it was Kyun, but no one came in. Strange. I got up from my place opening the door, finding Jooheon’s brother.

“Can I come in?" he asked hesitantly. I looked at him in surprise, and without saying anything to him, I moved away from the door to let him in. “I only came to apologize for having lied to you about not knowing anything. I also came to see if you were all right.” His look never connected with mine, which bothered me to some extent. I crossed my arms and looked at him.

“I don't understand why you did it, but I guess it doesn't matter now, it just matters to get out of that silly game.”

“Did Changkyun explain everything to you?” I nodded and cleared my throat.

“Yes, he brought me home.”

He played with his hands and reached into his jacket bag. Taking out a small envelope, he gave it to me. “Don't trust anyone.” He whispered before he left, making me scoff. Yeah right, look who says that.

Once the boy left my house, I took the envelope in both hands and sighed. There was no sign of Changkyun returning from his home, so I tore the white envelope and found a half-wrinkled note with somewhat illegible handwriting, but which clearly said, "Welcome to the game.” with my name in the bottom right corner. There was an extra note that made my heart start beating fast. I was beginning to think that my best friend, if I could still call him that, had more ideas about the game than others might have. I shook my head and sighed, I couldn't do that to Changkyun and Jooheon, they had somehow kept an eye on me all this time.

The doorbell of my house rang, making me shudder, to quickly put the letter in the first drawer I saw. I took three deep breaths and then approached the door. I opened it to find the boy with a purple hoodie and a gray pantsuit. I smiled at him as calmly as possible and invited him in.

Saturday again. I had contacted my best friend several times after that letter. He assured me that he did not know absolutely about its contents but I knew that he was lying to me. Now he would take me to the building, winning over Changkyun whom I had to refuse the offer.

Speaking of Changkyun, we had both had meetings at the other's house, more casual than I would have thought. He rarely went over the line and always used to make the times much more comfortable. We had not reached the stage where we had gone to bed for any purpose other than sleep, and somehow he felt that he was waiting for something.

At ten o'clock, the car parked in front of my house. I was just about to leave when I noticed my best friend coming into my house at a fast pace with a box in his hands. He scanned my body, noticing my red satin dress and my silver heels. He smiled and took my hand.

“I think I have something for you," he said, pulling out a black dress that was supposed to be attached to my body, halfway up my thigh and angel wings of the same color. I looked at him skeptically and he laughed. “Come on, it's part of the deal if you want to come to the party after all, and I know Changkyun will not resist you with this on.”

I took the garment in my hands and took a big breath of air. Would he really?

I didn't think about it anymore. Going to my room and putting on my clothes. A chill ran down my back but I did not let the feeling of fear win over me, just taking a couple of deep breaths before returning to the room where my friend was sitting on the couch with his cell phone in his hands. When he saw me, he smiled broadly and took my hand to walk on my feet. “Damn, you look beautiful. Let’s go now, there’s a boy you must conquer tonight.”

That night I felt that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life but at the same time I thought… Do I really have to do this to come out alive? Could the game end after all?

We entered the building. The walls were moving at the sound of the song playing currently...

My breath got stuck in my throat when I located the boy I was there for. Changkyun saw me with such a penetrating and seductive look. He was wearing leather jeans alongside a short-sleeved satin shirt with different colored patterns, purple, blue, yellow and red. There was a chain on his pants and from his neck fell a necklace of what appeared to be a gold chain. His hair was disheveled, although it had a specific direction and that was his right, raised slightly upwards allowing me to see his forehead and his piercing to perfection. As we connected glances, he smiled openly at me. My throat closed for a moment, leaving me breathless, but I managed to look normal to his scrutinizing gaze.

Apologize, never apologize

You hate the way I lie

So here you go, I'm being honest

“Hey, are you a fallen angel?" he asked, touching his fingertips to the wings tied behind my back. I smiled and denied that question.

“No, I only came to find a demon with which to play tricks in this destroyed world." I said, approaching him tentatively. At my boldness, I noticed how his gaze darkened a little.

“Then it's your lucky day, because I'll be the one to deny you entry to heaven, honey.”

Narcissist, come on, give us a kiss

Let's have some fun with it

It's kinda sweet...

Both of us, with the look of some children with a new toy, starting to head for the same place. It was still early, so the seekers and his henchmen didn't worry us at all. Once inside the room we had been in a week ago, Changkyun locked the door, his back at me. At the sight of his legs inside those leather pants, I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip. Thoughts of impurity began to tingle in my mind, causing my temperature to rise constantly.

Once the boy began to approach me, I felt that I still had a way out and that everything could change at any moment. That I still had time to take it back. But then he planted his lips on mine and all I could think about was "Shit."

The situation was getting deeper and more exciting. It tasted bitter, as if it had tasted blood itself before it kissed me. The slight taste of alcohol flooded my taste buds as his tongue investigated my palate. Our tongues brushed against each other, sending shivers down my spine. Jesus.

His scent was beginning to make me dizzy. Too manly and addictive, it made me want more, like nicotine straight into my bloodstream. I gasped for air, which the boy agreed to do by separating himself from me. In less time than I thought, my back was on the couch in the room, my eyes looking directly into his irises that I could hardly discern from the lack of light, since the only light there was the red LED light that was all over the building. His skin was slightly pinkish. His touch traced my figure in an exquisite manner, making me feel a warm path where he posed his fingertips.

Four in the morning, you're changing the locks

How could you do this to me?

I placed my hands around his neck and brought my lips close to his, nibbling on the soft, tender skin. His moles covered some extremities of his body provoking me to mark each and every one with marks that could become darker for the next morning. He was mine. Changkyun was mine for the night.

I only love you when you don't love me

Oh, baby, so, why do you love me?

His hands pulled the wings off my back in a slow and torturous manner causing the air to get stuck in my lungs with no escape. His lips went to my collarbones making me separate from him. His tongue began to trace the exposed skin smiling on the way. With his hands, he slipped the straps over my shoulders to drag the dress to my lower body. That's when I leaned on the bed with my feet pushing my hips up so he could finish pulling the garment out.

He smiled at the sight and stood on his knees on either side of my waist to remove his shirt. Every button he undoes means one more step towards one of my deepest fantasies. His torso was exposed, with only his chain resting lazily on his torso. His marked abdomen prompted me to run my tongue over it to taste his sweet flesh and be ecstatic about the ragweed.

I sat up on my elbows looking at the belt that clung to his pants, asking permission with my eyes to help him with that task. Changkyun took the hint and laid down beside me, letting out a gasp. I smiled as it dawned on me that we were at the edge of the cliff, but if it was with him, I would give it my all.

I sat on his lap, feeling his bulge against my core. I gasped at the sensation and made my way to unbuckle the black belt with the silver buckle. I removed the garment in two moves and now, I needed to unbutton his pants. I ran my tongue over my lower lip, directing my hands at a slow speed to tempt his patience, which did not seem to last long. The boy raised his hip to me, grunting underneath.

“What's the matter, kitty, do you want me to help you with your torturous pain?" I asked in a voice that was as if in velvet as I squeezed the right places to make him delirious. “Learn how to beg, darling.”

My index finger began to sway over the boy's covered member, which drove him crazy. He looked at me with his lust filled eyes. “Do it. Please.”

He mumbled that last word, more against his will. With a smile, I removed the button from his leather jeans, dragging the cloth down his thighs. Then I stared at his underwear with a hungry look. The boy noticed my glance and with one movement I was at his mercy again under his body.

“Well played, angel, but in this game you must learn who is in charge," his voice so damned hoarse made my body eager with the sound. The boy took off my bra with one hand, looking agitated. My head dropped back quickly at the sensations. My center began to vibrate with the music in the background.

Without being able to wait a second longer, he removed my underwear by tapping the middle finger of his left hand on my bundle of nerves.

“God..." I hissed at the feeling of that digit, groping on forbidden ground.

The boy smiled as he took off his only remaining cloth, positioning himself on me. We looked at each other for a minute. A long minute, where I could read his eyes. Pure, raw lust.

His member was slowly and pleasantly buried inside me. My hip was raised by the reflection, making me take a big breath of air. I was not a virgin but, it had been so long and the sensation was new and delirious.

“Welcome to hell, little angel," he whispered as he began his deep pounds on me. My face broke into pure moaning and unexplained sounds as I enjoyed the sensation produced by her touch.

The moment reached its peak, approaching with a great electric shock that ran from the tips of my feet to the surface of my head. We both came in unison, creating an exquisite harmony to the contrast of his deep voice and mine. Our gasping and gasping breaths spoke for themselves. Our glances spoke what our mouths couldn't. The connection we created in that instant was so strong and powerful that I thought it would fade. The red light around us fell in a minute, leaving us in darkness. The smell of liquor and sex surrounded us without shame.

In the face of that darkness. The boy came out of me causing one last tremor. And that was the sign. I crawled to my clothes strewn over the arms of the sofa, pulling a knife from the wings of my costume.

I'm fucking crazy, you're fucking crazy, we're all fucking crazy;

I held my breath for a minute.

And then, exhaled hard.

I couldn't see anything at all, and that made everything strangely interesting. I gasped away, crawling to the edge of the sofa where the light was slightly off. And then I saw him.

I noticed how his skin glowed with sweat and his eyes darkened. The light coming in from the window helped me to identify his eyes. His torso was still naked but the bottom was on the dark side of the sofa.

“Pity angel, you decided to be seduced by the ideas of living in a world of lies.”

I drew my knife dangerously close to his naked abdomen. His breathing became faster and his heart began to beat erratically. The metal device I held in my hands began to trace his chest slowly, delineating his skin, his outline. The boy looked at me, some kind of mix between horror and pleasure on his features. Happy in how the game had turned out, I took his jaw with my free hand looking directly at him. A smile spread across my face and I instantly noticed the boy's eyes opening wide, looking up at me, like begging for mercy.

I began to apply more pressure on his chest by opening a slight cut. The air got stuck in my throat, forcing me to continue.

“Only then will we set you free. Kill the leader of the snake clan. Kill Changkyun. It's an easy job, don't you think?"

I closed my eyes trying to make the seekers boss' voice disappear from my ears. My jaw clenched tightly as I struggled with my subconscious about the real right decision.

“Please...” his voice came out in a thread of voice as I felt the burning in his chest, but maybe not because of the physical wound but because of the wound in his heart.

“Oh no," I said with a smile, denying in the process. “No. Your glory days are over, kitty.” I took the impulse, and then, to add more drama to the matter, I asked. “Your last words, Changkyun?

Great was my surprise to see him looking much darker than ever before. With a confused look on my part, I heard him say. “Do you know what they say at the end of every game?”

I jumped up and down as I felt his hand grab my wrist. He dropped me on the arm of the sofa using my own hand, now in the opposite direction, showing the edge to me. With a serious and firm look, he approached my ear whispering the words that were about to dictate my death.

“I knew you wouldn’t be brave enough. It’s time to say game over… (Y/N)”

[you-didnt-see-that-cuming]

Soft Touches | Draco Malfoy x Reader Part One

Summary: When Y/N had first met Harry and Ron on the train, she would have never thought that that interaction would have led to years of adventures and near-death experiences. Throughout their time at Hogwarts, several things had become clear. First, there will be at least one thing that tries to kill you a year. Second, Draco Malfoy was Harry’s archenemy. Third, no matter how hard she tried, Y/N still had just as big a crush on the blond as the first day they met. Harry and Ron would never let her live that one down while Hermione was at least a little understanding. Y/N knew that some of the things that Draco had done were horrible, and she would probably never forgive him for the things he had said to Hermione. And yet, she still liked him.

Warnings: No warnings yet!

Words: 1779

AO3 Link

Masterlist

A/N: Lmao I’m back and I’ve been on draco tiktok

As expected, being a fifth year student was far more stressful than anyone could have imagined. Not only did they have the O.W.L.s to study for, but ever since Umbridge had been brought on as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, you had to practically teach yourself if you wanted a proper defense theory. At this rate, a muggle would probably know more about defense against dark magic. Either you practiced on the weekends, which almost no one aside from Hermione did, or during free periods.

It was only a few weeks from Halloween and autumn was in full swing. The grounds were painted with trees that held an array of yellow, orange, and gold leaves and there was a strong smell of bonfire, hot cider, and butterscotch that wafted across the hills during the day. On late afternoons, when the air was crisp and the sky slightly darker than what it had been during the first month of term, the courtyards and hills near the Black Lake were the perfect places for students to relax.

Y/N was sitting on the sill of one of the arches that opened into the courtyard, writing in a leatherbound journal with her green quill when one of her textbooks slipped out of the opening of her bag and smacked onto the stone floor below. She had barely registered the sound when someone had reached down and picked it up, extending their hand to her. Y/N’s eyes followed the line up the owner of the hand’s toned arm until she had reached their face. 

Instead of Draco’s usual sneer, there was no wrinkle between his brow, and his features were soft. Her hand slowly extended to meet his, and their fingers brushed against one another as she grasped the book. His startling blue eyes were veiled with an unreadable expression.

She was still too shocked to say anything, but the corner of her lips turned up slightly in a silent thank you. Draco stared for a few more seconds before his hand fell back down to his side and he turned, striding down the empty corridor. Y/N stared at his retreating figure. He wasn’t wearing his robes, despite the crisp chill that hung in the air, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, displaying his forearms and the distinct veins that ran across his skin. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was nearly nightfall when Hermione had found her, still staring at the end of the corridor, deep in thought. 

“Where have you been? It’s time for dinner, Harry and Ron have already started without us.” Hermione questioned softly. Y/N turned her head, looking a little dazed.

“I’ll tell you later tonight, in the dormitories.” Hermione tilted her head and smiled a little.

“Knowing you, you’ve probably been out here for hours. Come on, before Ron eats all the best parts.” She stretched her hand out and pulled Y/N from her seat. Together, they walked arm in arm to the Great Hall, taking in the setting sun through the tall window panes and the lingering chill that had swept over Hogwarts over the past few days. 

It was getting colder, and the Winter recess was creeping closer day by day. As the two girls walked to the Great Hall, all they could smell as they walked through the open-air corridors was birch smoke coming from Hagrid’s hut and cold air. Y/N breathed deeply and sighed contentedly. She was convinced that there was absolutely nothing better than autumn at Hogwarts, and not even Professor Umbridge could spoil that. 

The second they opened the door to the Great Hall, it was like being hit by a wall of warmth, light, and the wonderful smells of the banquet. Y/N finally snapped out of the haze she had been in all afternoon once she realized how hungry she truly was. Hurriedly, the two of them sat down on the bench across from Ron and Harry, both of whom were animatedly discussing the upcoming quidditch game against Slytherin. They were discussing different strategies to use, especially since the Slytherin team was notorious for cheating. 

Y/N had joined the Gryffindor team as a Chaser only a year after Harry had and had experienced her fair share of Slytherin fouls to last a lifetime. Y/N caught sight of some serving platters and began serving herself along with Hermione. 

“So what were you doing all day? I haven’t seen you since breakfast this morning.” Y/N asked as she filled the corner of her plate with mashed potatoes. 

“Isn’t the answer obvious? She was in the library of course, where else would she be?” Ron interjected as he stole a roll of bread off of Hermione’s plate. Evidently he and Harry were done talking about quidditch, Ron had piled loads of food on his plate and Harry was stuffing chicken into his mouth. The two started to bicker until Ron shoved the entire roll into his mouth. 

Y/N was watching amused as Ron tried to speak around the bread roll when a flash of blond hair caught her eye. Just over Ron’s shoulder, Draco was just beginning to sit down next to Pansy Parkinson who was absorbed in a conversation with Blaise Zabini who sat across from her. Draco and Y/N’s eyes met briefly before both of them shifted their gazes. Hermione paused for a moment, looking at Y/N and then to Draco before a subtle look of realization dawned across her face. Suddenly, she switched the conversation to their History of Magic paper that was due by the end of the week.

“What have you two chosen for your topics?” Hermione questioned, making Harry and Ron freeze. They obviously hadn’t chosen a topic yet, let alone begun writing. 

“Erm, well… Here’s the thing Hermione-” Ron had begun stammering when Hermione cut him off.

“What is wrong with you? Professor Binns assigned this paper over two weeks ago!”

“I haven’t had time, I’ve had quidditch practice nearly every day and Snape hasn’t exactly eased up on Potions assignments, has he?” Harry defended himself, poking at a carrot on his plate and avoiding Hermione’s gaze. 

“Harry, I’ve been at the exact same quidditch practices as you and I’m almost finished with my paper. I’m writing about Grindelwald’s rise to power. You need to find a topic and fast!” Y/N said pointedly. Ron sat up at the mention of Y/N’s topic. “And no, you cannot use that topic, pick something else!” Ron deflated once again. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They eventually finished their dinners, filed out of the Great Hall, and began heading towards Gryffindor Tower. Once they had finally entered through the portrait hole, Hermione grabbed Y/N by the crook of her elbow and pulled her up to their shared dormitories. Once she had shut the door behind them, she whirled around to face Y/N and pointed to her bed.

“Sit. We need to talk.” Hermione walked over and sat across from her. “What was that look that you gave Draco at dinner?”

Y/N looked down at her hands, an embarrassed flush across her cheeks. She was fiddling with the hem of her skirt and refused to look Hermione in the eye.

“Well, earlier today I was by myself writing in the courtyard, and I guess I must have knocked over one of my books because the next thing I know, Draco was just standing there, handing it to me. It felt like I was in a dream, he didn’t say anything, but he looked… different. I don’t really know how to describe it. He looked… soft, almost?” Y/N groaned and threw herself backwards onto the pillows, her legs hanging off the side of the bed. Hermione shifted so that she was lying next to Y/N and facing her.

“Okay,” she said carefully, “what does that mean exactly?”

Y/N paused for a moment in thought. What did it mean? Y/N had never thought about Draco in that way before, and the spark she felt when their fingers brushed together couldn’t have just been her imagination.

“I… don’t know. I don’t really know how to explain it. Whenever I start thinking about it, I feel this squeezing in my chest, like I can’t breathe properly.” Y/N closed her eyes and pictured Draco’s face once again. Hermione also seemed to be lost in thought, but those thoughts were most likely not about how handsome Draco looked with his hair pushed back and his sleeves rolled up. Hermione stretched her hand out and grasped Y/N’s hand.

“Well, I suppose it could be worse. It could have been Goyle handing your book back to you.” The two girls looked at each other before bursting into laughter. Goyle wouldn’t touch a book, let alone read one. In fact, it was unclear of whether or not he could actually read.

Once their laughter had died down and the two were sitting in comfortable silence, a thought dawned upon Y/N.

“You won’t tell Harry or Ron about this, will you? Knowing them, they’ll make a fuss about it and then never let me live it down.” 

Hermione smiled in response.

“‘A fuss’ is a bit of an understatement. ‘What do you mean you fancy Malfoy?! He’s a git!’” Hermione’s impersonation was spot on and the two girls laughed once again.

The two girls then spent the next few hours talking about their classes, Y/N and Harry’s upcoming quidditch match, and making plans for their weekend in Hogsmeade. Y/N wouldn’t have to worry about Draco until the quidditch match, and that wasn’t for another 3 days. So for 3 days, Y/N would avoid him and distract herself with studying for midterm exams and Quidditch practice.

[kpopfanfictrash]

TAOM Drabble: The Party

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Word Count: 1,611

Rating: PG-13

Summary: An accompanying drabble to The Art of War More. This drabble takes place during Y/N and Jungkook’s kiss at hockey house, as well as the immediate aftermath (aka what Seokjin said to convince Jungkook not to follow).

[ PART OF MY JUNGKOOK BIRTHDAY DRABBLE GAME ]

You had to be the most maddening person alive.

Only an insane person would actually be mad at Jungkook for purposefully losing a game of beer pong to you. Only an insane person, or maybe a drunk person – which you were dangerously close to becoming, based on the volume of beer you’d consumed.

Jungkook recognized the fact that he was also insane, since instead of being annoyed by this fact – as he rightfully should’ve been – he just kept staring at your lips and wondering what they would taste like.

“You’re the ridiculous one here, not me!” you complained, your brow adorably crinkled.

Jungkook shook himself free from his stupor.

“Oh, yeah?” he shot back. Then, he sighed. “God, this conversation is stupid. You drive me crazy – you know that?”

“Well, same!” 

“Great.” Fuck – Jungkook was staring at your lips again. With great effort, he forced himself to look you in the eyes. “Anything else you want to say?”

He expected you to cuss him out, maybe tear him a new one, or swear at him about his parentage, so your sudden hesitance came as a surprise. As was the determined way you stepped forward to tilt your face up to his.

“Yeah,” you breathed, almost in a daze.

Jungkook’s entire world seemed to slow. He was able to feel the heat from your body, the warmth of your hands when you reached for his face. As your fingertips brushed over his cheekbones, Jungkook stared wonderingly back at you.

He had imagined this many times prior, but most of those times had been on desperate nights spent alone in his bed when he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think about anything but your smile, or your scowl.

When you reached up to press your lips against his, Jungkook seemed to short-circuit. 

A strangled noise tore from his throat – did that really come from him? – and he tried to reconcile your touch with reality. Luckily, his insanity only lasted a moment before he came to his senses and wrapped both arms about you.

Tugging you forward, Jungkook’s spine hit the wall and he pulled you between his legs, kissing you fiercely. You shivered when one of his hands brushed your back, which ripped an arrow of fire straight through his chest.

Swiping his tongue at your lip, Jungkook demanded entrance and when you parted beneath him, his knees seemed to buckle.

He’d spent so long not touching you, not even letting himself think about touching you, that now that he had you, he seemed to lose control. Skimming your cheek with his thumb, Jungkook moved his lips to your neck and kissed slowly down your throat.

When your hands wound their way into his hair, he couldn’t help but moan. His two weak spots had always been his hair and his nipples. Jungkook started to drown in your kiss; he imagined you siphoning off pieces of him to leave something better behind.

As soon as he grasped the enormity of this moment – he was kissing you, after all – Jungkook roughly pulled back to rest his forehead to yours.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice graveled and strange.

When his eyes finally opened, he saw you staring at him and – instead of his hopeful desire mirrored back – Jungkook saw something inside you which made his heart stutter. You looked at him panicked, uncertain as his gaze roamed your face.

“Y/N?” Jungkook managed to ask. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly desperate, you wrenched yourself from his grasp. Jungkook faltered, feeling cold without you.

“I – yeah. I’m fine,” you said, although you clearly were not. “Just… fine.”

When you spun around, shoving your way towards the door, Jungkook felt his heart tear in two as it sunk to his shoes. He remained frozen for a moment, staring after you and then he tore himself free to plunge into the crowd.

Jungkook rose up on tip-toes, peering over the party to spot you by the door. He pushed himself in your direction, calling your name, although you did not seem to hear.

The further he moved, the higher his heart lodged in his throat. He’d fucked this all up again, somehow. Somehow, Jungkook had made you bolt and he couldn’t even fathom how he’d make it up to you now. It had taken him so long to get you to look at him again, to get you to smile at him again, to get you to trust him again.

Freshman year, Jungkook had been such a shit after you went home with Jimin. Now he knew Jimin meant nothing, but Jungkook had been too prideful and stupid back then to let you know that he cared. 

Heart pounding, Jungkook shoved his way towards the exit. He had almost reached you when a hand closed over his bicep, yanking him sideways.

Pulled from the main room, Jungkook found himself facing Seokjin. “Not now,” he grunted, trying to shove past. “I need to talk to Y/N.”

“It’s about Y/N,” Seokjin said, grabbing his arm again.

Gritting his teeth, Jungkook evaluated the situation. He could definitely overpower Seokjin if he had to, but it’d take longer than convincing Seokjin he had good intentions.

“I need to go after her,” Jungkook said, whirling around. “I just want to talk. Promise.”

When he met Seokjin’s glare, Jungkook nearly recoiled.

It was strange to see Seokjin wearing an unpleasant expression. Jungkook knew Seokjin as the affable guy, the funny guy who got along with everyone and whom everyone liked. He’d never seen Seokjin as the type of guy to pick a fight in the middle of a party, but Jungkook was quickly reassessing that statement.

Finally, Seokjin let go. “She doesn’t want to talk to you,” he said, somewhat heated. “Whatever dumb shit you said, she doesn’t want to hear it.”

“What I said?” Jungkook asked in disbelief.

“I saw you two making out, JK.” Seokjin’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what royally stupid thing you said after to make Y/N run, but whatever it was, you can save the apology for tomorrow. Let her cool off for tonight.”

“I – but...” Jungkook gaped. “All I said to her was her name!”

Seokjin faltered for a moment. “If that was true,” he said slowly. “Y/N wouldn’t have run away like she did.”

Somewhat desperate, Jungkook glanced over Seokjin’s shoulder. He no longer saw you standing with Gina by the door, which made his heart twist.

“I don’t know,” he groaned, turning back. “I really don’t know why she ran. I don’t know what I did to make Y/N angry. Please, Seokjin – I just want to talk to her.”

The longer he looked at Jungkook, the more Seokjin’s expression seemed to shift. He no longer stared at Jungkook with open distrust, but rather uncertainty. 

Still, Seokjin held his ground. “Give it one night, at least,” he sighed, rubbing his neck. “Maybe you’re right and you did nothing wrong, but Y/N still looked upset. Give her some time to cool down.”

Chewing on his lower lip, Jungkook glanced again at the door.

You had looked upset – which made Jungkook wonder why. Why had you looked so utterly torn? That wasn’t the normal reaction Jungkook got after kissing people. It wasn’t the sort of reaction anyone hoped for after a kiss, which made Jungkook wonder if Seokjin had a point.

If you really didn’t want to talk to him, maybe Jungkook should leave you alone.

The instant he thought this, a protest rose to his lips. This was exactly what Jungkook had done several years ago – he had left you alone and pretended not to care – and look where that had gotten him.

Still, he couldn’t help but see your face again in his mind. Your stricken expression, the panic in your voice as you dashed into the crowd – if you really had no desire to see him, Jungkook shouldn’t keep pushing you into something he wanted.

“You’re right,” Jungkook said at last, leveling his gaze with Seokjin. “I don’t want to upset her any more. But I’m not giving up,” he declared, making a decision right there. “I’m not letting another stupid misunderstanding come between us.”

Spinning around on his heel, Jungkook marched into the crowd and left Seokjin standing, somewhat bewildered on his side of the room.

Yanking his phone from his pocket, Jungkook flipped to your messages and scrolled to the bottom. The last text you sent him was a simple ‘okay’ in response to the house address Jungkook had sent you earlier.

Coming to a stop, Jungkook’s thumb brushed the screen. He had typed and re-typed that message several times, debating whether to add something more personal before deciding against. Now, he wished he’d been a little more forthcoming about why he really wanted you here.

About why Jungkook always seemed to want you near. It was more than just wanting to be friends with you, more than the begrudging cooperation between two detectives. It was about how Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about you, couldn’t stop dreaming of you and each time someone said your name, it felt like a physical wrenching because he couldn’t say your name how he wanted.

He had finally said your name that way tonight and then, you disappeared.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jungkook took a deep breath – and when he opened them, he composed himself enough to send a text.

Jungkook: Y/N, are you okay? [12:15 AM]

Jungkook:  please talk to me [12:15 AM]

Jungkook: please [12:16 AM]

© kpopfanfictrash, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[t0wnspersonb]

Train Rides and Confessions (Akaashi Keiji x Reader)

Akaashi is my husband. I love all the Haikyuu boys, but this beautiful man has my entire fucking heart. Who gave him the right to be so beautiful? It’s so not fair. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 2,394

Warnings: slight angst, uncomfortable situations, Akaashi being a beautiful and heroic man, Bokuto being Bokuto, all the fluff. 

~~~~~~~~

You sighed softly, shaking your head at Bokuto’s antics. You were currently in the gymnasium, waiting for the boy’s volleyball practice to end. 

 You had met the volleyball team on pure accident. Bokuto had literally ran you down during one of their runs. After many apologies being exchanged you all had actually started talking, and from then on it was history.

 Your art club always ran late, and coincidentally it was around the same time that the volleyball club ended their practice. Even more of a coincidence that you took the same train ride home as the third years and a certain setter that you had begun developing a crush on.

 Sometimes the art club would end a little early, so you would sit in on one of their practices and wait until it was over, like today.

 You were incredibly quiet and tried to stay out of the way, which no one minded. In fact, it made Bokuto work harder, wanting to show you how “cool your senpai is.”

 “Y/n-san, we just need to change and we’ll be ready to leave in a minute. Sorry for making you wait so long.” Akaashi said, wiping his face down with a towel.

 You shook your head, “It’s fine Akaashi-san, I wasn’t waiting long. Besides, I enjoy watching you guys practice. It looks like a lot of fun.” you smiled sweetly at him.

 He stared at you with his gunmetal eyes, he took in the gentle expression on your face, his heart rate increasing slightly. His eyes zeroed in on the charcoal smudged across your cheek. Without even thinking about it, he cupped your face slightly, his thumb rubbing against the mark until it disappeared.

 You both froze.

 Your face burned red at his gentle touch, his hand was rough - probably from the many hours of volleyball practice - and it was incredibly warm. 

 But all too soon he pulled his touch away in embarrassment, looking away from your face and fighting down his own blush. 

 “Sorry, you had something on your face.” he said quietly, his other hand fidgeting with the fingers that were on your face. 

“O-Oh. I’m sorry,” you said quietly rubbing at the same spot on your cheek. “We were working with charcoal portraits today, I must’ve touched my face by accident.”

 He glanced at you from the corner of his eye; taking in your shy demeanor and blushing face.

 Cute, he thought. “No worries, we’ll meet you in front of the gym.” he said nodding, before jogging off to join his teammates.

 You released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, pressing a hand against your racing heart. It felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. 

 You weren’t expecting an interaction like that. A soft smile grazed your lips and you giggled to yourself quietly, pressing your hands against your blushing cheeks, shaking your head slightly in a daze.

 You were head over heels for that quieter setter. Akaashi Keiji was probably the most beautiful and intelligent man you had ever met, and he was kind too.

 You weren’t exactly sure when your crush on him had developed, but as you had continued hanging out with the team, one day you had looked at him in a different light.

 And soon your sketchbook was full of images of him. Of course it was filled with other images as well, you had sketched the boys a lot during long practices or during lunch, even games.

 But there were more portraits of Akaashi than you could count.

 Shaking your head again, you begin to make your way out of the gym, not taking notice to the two managers staring after you.

 “Should we tell them?” Suzumeda mused. It was so obvious the crush you two had on each other.

 “Nah, let’s see what happens.” Shirofuku laughed.

 ****

 It didn’t take long for the guys to finish changing, Bokuto immediately taking sight of you and flinging his arm around your shoulder. “Hey, hey, hey! Did you see that awesome straight your cool senpai did!?”

 “Um…”

 “Y/n-san doesn’t know volleyball terms yet Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said walking up beside you. “She’s still learning them. And it wasn’t very awesome, you got shut down.”

 “AKAASHI.” Bokuto grumbled pouting. “You’re not supposed to say stuff like that!” 

 Everyone seemingly ignored their captain, causing him to deflate even more.

 “I thought you played really well senpai. You always look like you’re having fun.” you said smiling at the sad third year.

 “Don’t encourage him Y/n-chan. You also don’t have to call him senpai.” Konoha sighed. 

 Bokuto ignored his teammate completely and beamed at your words. “I am the best!” he boosted, laughing loudly.

 “Bokuto-san lower your voice, you’re disturbing other people.” Akaashi said, watching the bystanders looking at Bokuto in bewilderment as you guys waited.

 “Akaashi -” Bokuto started but was cut short by the second year pushing him to the open doors of the train, everyone else following after him.

 The train was unusually packed tonight. You clutched your bag to your chest, not wanting to take up too much space. Somehow you and the rest of the boys had gotten separated, you were too small to search for them, so you opted for staying right where you were. You had gotten jostled towards the back of the train, near one of the walls. 

 Being mindful of your surroundings, you carefully took out your phone to text one of the boys. You felt something brush against the edge of your skirt, but you ignored it, thinking that the person behind you was trying to get in a better position. It was incredibly packed.

 But then you felt fingers grazing the exposed skin of your legs. You flinched hard and shuffled more towards the wall, trying to put some kind of space between you and whoever it was behind you.

 But the person followed. It was a man slightly older than you, and you could tell he was nothing but trouble as he all but crowded you into the corner of the train.

 You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as you looked frantically for a way to escape this situation. 

 This has never happened to you before, you could feel panic rising in your gut and tears stinging your eyes as the man grabbed your waist, pressing up against you.

 “P-Please stop it.” you spluttered out. 

 “You’re a pretty little thing.” he cooed, you could feel his hands beginning to slide up to your chest.

 You squeezed your eyes shut. No one was paying attention. No one was going to help you -

 “Y/n-san.” Strong, slim fingers grabbed your wrist, you looked towards your left and relief flooded into you as you stared back at gunmetal eyes. Akaashi gripped your wrist and tugged, you were ripped away from the man’s grasp and into the chest of the second year. 

 Akaashi’s hand rested on your upper back as you buried your face into the front of his school uniform, clinging tightly to his blazer.

 His gaze was piercing as he stared intensely at the assaulter. Akaashi could feel you trembling against him, causing his blood to boil even further. 

 “You little -”

 “I suggest that you get off at this upcoming stop before I call the police.” he said coldly, cutting off the man. 

 The man scowled and looked around himself at the other people before mumbling curses under his breath and walking off the train, only to be confronted by two police officers.

 “I had already contacted the police.” Akaashi said quietly, carefully maneuvering you guys around as more people shuffled onto the train. You were once again pressed against the corner of the train, but this time the man that held you close had your heart racing for a completely different reason. 

 “Are you okay?” he murmured softly, peering down at you in clear worry, taking notice to the tears that were still gathered at the corner of your eyes.

 “Y-Yeah. You got here just in time. Thank you Akaashi-san.” you said shakily, your grip on his blazer tightening. 

 His eyes softened. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner. You must’ve been really scared.”

 “Terrified.” you corrected, the tightness in your body finally easing up. “Where is everyone else?”

 “Bokuto-san was with me when we started trying to find everyone. And then I saw you and -” Akaashi shook his head, trying to get the image of the position you were in out of his mind. 

 You nodded and then a slight awkwardness fell between you two as you began to realize the position you were in.

 Your back was against the train wall, Akaashi had his hands placed on the wall on both sides of your head, trying to keep some kind of space between your bodies. You could feel the heat of his body, and the softness of his breath. 

 More people began to shuffle into the train, pushing Akaashi further into you. Your face was incredibly close to his chest again, and you hadn’t realized how short you were compared to the setter until now.

 His shirt brushed against your nose and you could smell the faint scent of him, some kind of cologne, the fresh scent of detergent,  and sweat from his volleyball practice earlier.

 He smelled good.

 Your face flushed at the thought, and you swallowed thickly. Could someone die of embarrassment? It felt like you could.

 “I’m sorry.” he said quietly, “just bare with me for a little longer.” Akaashi said, realizing this might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, especially considering what you had gone through just moments ago.

 He could smell the soft scent of your shampoo as you guys swayed together as the train moved, he could feel the softness of your body as you pressed incredibly close to him. Akaashi was biting down the blush that wanted to cover his cheeks, he vaguely wondered if you could feel his pounding heart.

 He had never been so close to you before, and he would never admit out loud, but he was enjoying every second of this.

 He couldn’t help but wonder if you felt the same way about him. Akaashi remembered the exact moment his crush on you began to develop. It was when you were showing everyone the sketch you had drawn during one of their practices.

 It was incredible, he had never seen someone draw so well before, and the way you had captured each emotion of his teammates; well that was just pure talent right there. But what captivated him the most, was your expression as you showed everyone your work. The way your eyes lit up as you explained the techniques you had used to create the image. 

 Akaashi adored how passionate you were about art, he thought it was the cutest thing seeing you go on and on about it all. Your eyes and smile getting brighter and brighter each time.

 You were truly beautiful in his eyes.

 He had thought the small crush on you would go away, but it lingered, and got stronger and stronger the more you guys were around each other.

 He would lay awake at night thinking about you, wondering if you knew, and wondering if you felt the same way.

 And little to his knowledge you did. 

 You admired Akaashi, that much was true. He was the type of person you always wanted to be around, he was the type of person you wanted approval from. 

 “Y/n-san.” Akaashi said suddenly, peering down at you with a serious expression on his face, and a slight shyness you’ve never seen before. “I - I need to tell you something. Before you hear it from someone else.”

 Akaashi knew that his teammates knew about his crush on you, he was worried that they would say something before he had the guts to say it himself. But now… now he thought was the perfect time, it was just you and him, his teammates that were often around you guys were nowhere to be seen now.

 He could do it.

 He wanted to. Before it was too late. He didn’t care if you didn’t share the same feelings as him, he wanted to get it all off his chest already.

 “I like you.” he said simply, staring at your face intently. 

 You felt like your heart had just stopped beating. 

 He confessed to you.

 He liked you.

 Akaashi liked you.

 Akaashi Keiji liked you.

 This beautiful setter had feelings for you.

 Akaashi watched as so many emotions ghosted across your face, doubt settling into his stomach, twisting unpleasantly.

 Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should’ve - “I like you too.” you blurted out, your eyes wide and bright, face flushed.

 Akaashi was taken back, his lips parting in amazement, and then his face began to burn as he finally registered what you had said to him.

 “R-Really?” he asked quietly.

 You nodded your head rapidly, ignoring the redness in your face as you peered up at him. “I like you a lot Akaashi-san, I have for a while now.” you confessed.

 He stared at you for a moment before a soft smile grazed his lips. “That’s a relief, I was worried for a second.”

 Before you could say anything else you both had realized that your stop was finally here. Akaashi grabbed your hand, slipping his fingers through yours as you guys stepped out of the train and onto the platform, tugging you along with him as you guys went to the group of boys standing together, waiting for you.

 The third years zeroed in on your guys’ intertwined hands, wide grins appearing on their faces.

 “Well, well, well, look who finally confessed.” Komi teased, watching as your face turned bright red, a small blush coating Akaashi’s face as he looked away, scratching at his cheek. 

 “You guys are finally a couple now?” Konoha chimed in. “Look at Y/n-chan’s face, it’s so red!”

 Akaashi scowled softly, “Leave her alone. But… yeah. I still have to take her on a proper date.” he glanced at you from the corner of his eye, smiling slightly.

 “Akaashi! I want to go too!” Bokuto chimed in loudly. “Let’s go to the aquarium!”

 Everyone ignored the owl-headed captain as you guys began walking home.