#they both look silly on the exterior but have not-hidden-at-all dark sides

[shower-racoon]

that one post with Miku singing about pikmin has lodged the phrase "pikmin fortnite" into my brain. that's just such a perfect pair of words. pikmin the goofy color guys. fortnite one of the least serious battle royale games out there. they're made for each other. give the pikmin guns and make them fight each other

[whitherwordswither]

6:14AM. This morning I seemed to wake up naturally. I don't feel quite as groggy as I usually do. Which I suppose it a good thing but the fact that it typically doesn't happen that way somehow ends up striking me as odd. As if the simple fact that it felt like a natural transition, something that is rare enough, makes it feels more… unreal?

Do you ever… not feel… real? I often times have my doubts. I'll hold up my hand and just… stare at it. Wave it back and forth, trying to discern some hidden secret of existence. Part of me finds this silly. But the other part believes it very well could be.

It should be said that these excursions in to the other world aren't in any particular sequential order. Sometimes a scene will repeat, with or without variances. I do find myself revisiting some scenes over and over again if I find them comforting.

I turn on my bedroom light and use the small remote to change the bulb color to blue and dim it down. It has a nice ambience. I yawn and stack a couple pillows behind me with Rex on top and lean back against them, switching on the two nebula lights in the corners of the room. It kind of makes it feel like I'm under a deep blue crystalline sea. Watching the oscillation of the light across the ceiling is soothing.

I let my mind wander off…

I find myself meandering along a riverbank, every so often crouching down to poke at pebbles and stones. And every so often I find one of the 'good ones' and pluck it up, stuffing it in to my pocket. And yeah, sometimes it may just look like any other normal rock but I have standards and let me just say. It's totally not. Some rocks just have that feel to them. And I need to collect them. I may not have any idea what I will end up doing with them, but I want them.

"We're looking for rivermoss, not shiny pebbles you know." A voice calls, ahead of me.

I look up with a grin on my face. "I can do both. Two birds with many stones or whatever." And to help illustrate that, I hop forward, spying a larger rock half in the water. There's a dark green pelt growing along one side. I carefully peel the verdant slab off and hold it up. "See?"

Arbor rolls her eyes and continues her own hunt for the moss. She is the town alchemist, a short and snarky salamander. Not that these two things are mutually exclusive, but in my experience they always seem to go hand in hand. Not that I have any experiential evidence to back that up, but I do think the level of one's snark is often times increased by a significant amount if one's stature is below a certain point. Case in point; myself. Anyway. I found Arbor to be rather charming in her own way. And cute. Her exterior reminded me of a pacific northwest variety rough-skinned newt. Her ventral half was a soft and vibrant orange; dorsally, a deep mud color with streaks of obsidian. The kind I was obsessed with as a kid. I guess I still am? I just want to hold them all! Though I'm pretty sure if I tried to pick Arbor up and hold her she might have some choice words and a fist or two to say about it. Or maybe she might enjoy it. It was hard to tell with her.

Not finding any more moss in the immediate vicinity I pick up the woven basket nearby and join Arbor. "So, what do you primarily use the rivermoss for?" I ask, curious. Sebestha had introduced us and said if I wanted to learn about the local flora, Arbor was a walking tome of knowledge. Maybe not in those exact words. But sometimes I imagine him in a fancy little top hat and a monocle, complete with twirly mustache and posh British accent. Don't ask why. I couldn't tell you.

"Primarily?" She looked to me, blinking her pale yellow eyes. "Ground up and mixed with other herbs, it's a good topical for wounds. Helps keep them clean. Good binding. The moss is also a natural filter for toxins. It's fairly versatile and typically what I run out of the quickest."

One thing I learned about Arbor shortly after meeting her is that she genuinely enjoyed answering questions about alchemy, herbs, poultices, concoctions, tinctures, plants and anything relative to those topics. Her favorite color was, unsurprisingly, green. In the summer season she loved spending time in the forest picking sunberries, which reminded me of a sweeter salmonberry. And she enjoyed romance novels with darker twists to them. When she found out I liked to read she had given me a list of her favorite books. I liked her. She was honest, brutally blunt and down to earth.

She stared at me, half bent over, unblinking, as if waiting for a follow up question, hand hovering motionless above a rock. I stared back without asking anything else right away. I wanted to see how long it could last. Which wasn't for very long because I could feel my lips moving and spreading in to a smile before I ended up giggling.

"What's so amusing?" She blinked finally, tail swaying languidly from side to side.

"N-nothing." I coughed, and shook my head. "I was uh. I thought it would be funny to see how long we could stare at each other. But then I thought. What if we just kept staring at each other for a really really long time and… y'know. It uh… it was funny."

She chuckled. "You're a weird one."

"You like it." I gave an exaggerated wink and started to move further ahead to locate more moss. And pebbles.

This made her roll her eyes again, though her mouth curved with a smirk. "A few more clumps and we should be good." Arbor knelt and rolled a sizeable stone away from two others and scraped off some sneaky moss that was trying to hide between. "Estha will still be at the watchtower tonight, yeah? Did you… want to hang around after we're done, maybe stay for dinner? The company is kind of nice today."

Company was nice. In a lot of ways, we were similar. We didn't always like being around others but we had our moments when that was really all we wanted. I glanced back at her and nodded. "Yeah! I think I would. It's either that or sit at home by myself and I don't really think I'd like to do that…"

"Great." She made a pleased sound and I found three more pebbles that begged for me to stuff them in my pockets. So I did. Arbor laughed. "What are you even going to do with all those?"

"I have no idea." I replied with a shrug of my shoulders. "They just call to me, 'take me with you!'" I picked up another. "And, like, I have to. Y'know. And I don't want them to be lonely."

"They're rocks. They're all the same." She was next to me then, picking up a stone and holding it up next to mine.

"No two rocks are the same. Yours is rough around the edges, like it has just broken off from a larger piece. Adventuring out on its own for the first time." I held mine closer. "And mine, see? It's smooth. It's been on a journey, weathered over time. Now it's looking for a new place to rest for a while."

She was staring at me again. I stared back and very slowly slipped the stone in to my pocket. Then all of a sudden reached out, grabbed the pebble she had and then threw it in to the river. "It screams to be set free!" And then I darted forward, stumbling and almost falling but managing to catch myself as I made my way to a bend in the river and worked another chunk of moss from a reddish rock.

The salamander kept staring for a few moments before shaking her head, smiling to herself as she crept over to another crop of larger stones. "Are all humans as uniquely touched?"

I made a snerking sound, placing more moss in to my basket. "Only the really fun ones."

"Noted."

We wandered along the riverbank a bit further, not finding too much more moss. It was harder to tell what time it was with it being overcast but it felt around midday. Then again, I was a terrible judge of time. Finally, Arbor stopped, setting her basket down for a moment as she stretched, her eyes following the river in to the distance. "Alright… I think we've got a decent amount for now. Lets head back."

"Alrighty~" I turned, pausing next to her and followed her gaze out. And for a while we just stood there, staring in to the hazy gray and blue of far off mountains in silence. Then she picked up her basket and we headed back toward the town, side by side.

8:26AM.

I yawn and stretch. It's daylight now and I can see the trees out the window swaying in the chill autumn breeze. Sitting up, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and rub my eyes, grumbling. Breakfast needed to happen. But I wasn't sure what I was in the mood for. So it was time to head downstairs and stare in to the abyss of the fridge. Close the doors, then open them again and hope something that wasn't there before appeared and begged me to devour it for its sweet, tender nutrients.

Mm. Nourishment.

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.20

Changes

03/21/2021

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,206

Warnings: ANGST up the whazoo! Like seriously, angst. Language, more angst, talks of pregnancy, relationship troubles

A/N: Oof, this one is pretty bad. First of all, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. But anyone who knows me and my storytelling, I always ramp up the angst around here. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter to the best of your ability! If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

It’s nearly nightfall when Thor lands on the drive in front of your house.

His honeymoon haven, as he thinks of it often.

There’s hardly any impact from his descent, but what little there is kicks up a puff of dust despite the heavy gravel.

It crunches beneath his feet as he makes his way towards the front door. His boots fall heavy on the aged wood and before he can knock you’re there, pulling the door open.

You’re the most wonderful sight he’s ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. You’re perfection. Even tired as you look, eyes bloodshot, lips slightly off color, no glow in your cheeks or brightness in your gaze. You’re still the most beautiful creature in all of the universe.

He smiles at you but you stare at him stoically, then step aside to allow Dr. Wilson passage.

“Dr. Wilson,” Thor suddenly remembers sending her to be with you.

He smiles at her and she gives him one in return, albeit small and tight and it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Your Majesty,” she curtsies quickly before turning to you and placing her hand on your arm. “If you need anything, you have my number.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wilson, I’ll use it if I have to. Which something tells me I will.”

“Are you not better yet, cherub?” Thor asks, worry creasing his forehead.

You don’t meet his eyes and he notices the way Dr. Wilson steals a quick glance at him before she gives you a curtsy too then moves around him towards the drive to a shiny silver car.

You step out to the edge of your porch, waving at the Doctor until she’s gone.

As you turn back to him, Thor breathes in deep, almost taking a step towards you to wrap his arms around you and kiss you and quench this thirst for you that has been growing larger and more demanding every day that the two of you have been apart.

Before he can, you point towards the doorway and move past him, “You better come inside. It’s supposed to storm tonight.”

“Storm?” Thor asks incredulously. “Shall I chase it away for us?”

You don’t answer him and instead walk into the kitchen, disappearing from his sight as you move around the counter towards the sink.

Thor hesitates, his heart dropping for the first time since he arrived. At first he merely thought you exhausted from your illness, but now he’s wondering if there might not be something more going on.

Are you angry at him that it took him so long to come and see you?

As he shuts the door then steps towards your coat rack, he hangs his hammer carefully before moving towards the kitchen no longer in uniform but in a plain gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans.

“Are you not well at all yet, cherub? Will you need more time away from home?” he stops by the edge of the island, his hand reaching over to poke at the smooth wooden counter nervously.

The longer you take to answer him, the more he thinks something must be wrong, beyond your falling ill.

There’s no possible way that you might have found out about-It’s almost too unbearable to think of but as you keep your back to him, hands calmly but with purpose filling your kettle with water and dropping tea bags into a pot, his stomach begins to churn.

“Y/N, if something is wrong, I-”

“I’m pregnant, Thor. I’ve known for a week. Since the day in your war room when you were telling Loki that you wanted to get an annulment so that you could marry Jane.”

Thor’s heart stops. Outside the storm grows nearer faster.

Any light left from the setting sun is snuffed out by the black clouds of thunder and rain that Thor’s panic pulls from the atmosphere.

“I was coming to tell you, but you left your door open. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but then you said Jane was pregnant and for a moment I was hoping that maybe she was pregnant with someone else’s baby, but it didn’t sound like that’s what you were thinking so, I listened.

“My mind, at that moment, was a little foggy. You know? It took me a second to really think about what we could do. Because for me, I knew that even with this new hurdle, I wanted to overcome it with you. At your side.”

Thor watches as you step to the stove and light the burner, placing your kettle over it to boil.

His limbs are fuzzy, his mind a hive of buzzing bees and crackling electricity. His heart is still not beating but he can feel it breaking. Every fissure, every tear, he feels it from end to end. His mouth will not open and even if he had something to say, even if he could think enough to say it, you don’t sound finished and he will not interrupt you.

You move to pull two cups out from a cupboard and place one in front of the nearest stool to him, then the other on the island in front of the sink where you’ve been standing. You move the teapot over to the island too, then place both hands on the edge to lean all your weight against it.

Somehow, having you look at him is worse. He can see the heartbreak in your eyes, the betrayal. He can feel the anger surging beneath this calm exterior you’ve pasted on.

He’d rather have you rage at him, throw things at him, than see you keep your composure and think about this rationally. Because what can that mean? Have you given up on him? What does this mood of yours mean for your marriage?

“One of the first things I thought was that we should get Jane a room, or maybe a proper house where she and the baby could live because I could never keep you from your child. Not when they would be the rightful heir to the throne. And even if they weren’t going to be the heir, that baby would be your baby. Your child. So how can I ever keep them from you?

“I wasn’t exactly happy that Jane would be in our lives forever seeing as she is so openly…” you tut, looking up at the light fixture above as you search for the right word. “...not hostile. But she doesn’t like me. I could see it the moment she arrived but you seemed, I don’t know, oblivious of it? I’m not sure if that’s because it’s Jane or not, or if you seriously just didn’t notice?

“Every time we were alone, she always made sure to keep her distance. She never talked to me unless she absolutely had to, but as soon as you'd come into  the room she was all politeness and sociable,” you laugh without humor. “I still have no idea how you didn’t notice.

“It was sad, honestly. It made me sad, a lot. But I kept my mouth shut because you trusted her so wholeheartedly even though I could feel the snake she was. Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, especially since she’ll be part of our lives now, but-”

“She won’t.”

You stop talking, fixing your piercing gaze upon Thor and all he can do is shake his head in rebuttal of what you just said.

“She won’t be part of our lives,” he continues, explaining himself as quickly as he can.

Now that he’s got a word in, he’s eager to tell you how silly all of this has been. How stupid and unnecessarily taxing the stress was.

“She’s not pregnant,” Thor smiles, and he is glad to see your relief.

It’s brief and subdued, but it’s a small sigh and a relaxing of your shoulders.

After a moment you take several steps back to lean against the sink.

“So we have nothing to worry about,” Thor continues, hoping to latch onto his spark of hope.

He rounds the island with godly dexterity but you take a step back, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

Your anger is less hidden now, and he can see the outrage in your face.

He stops his pursuit to give you space.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Your demand confuses him. Doesn’t it make you feel better? It makes him feel loads, tons, millions of times better.

“I-” he begins confused.

“You were willing to leave me...to end our marriage, for a baby that hadn’t even been confirmed yet. You think telling me that Jane not being pregnant so now you don't have to erase our marriage as if it never existed is gonna make this better?!”

Thor is speechless, trying desperately to understand the problem, the confusion. Why are you still angry?

“Y-yes, my cherub. No baby, no Jane, no need to figure anything out,” he insists.

“YOU CALL AN ANNULMENT FIGURING SHIT OUT?!”

Thor winces, never having heard you this angry before. You’re livid and that scream is directed directly at him. It takes him a moment to regain some composure but when he does, he sputters to get his story out.

“I-I admit that perhaps the moment of my finding out about Jane was not my finest. I just learned that the once woman I loved was having my child and the scandal that would bring upon my people-”

You scoff and turn away from him, moving back towards the stove as a small stream of steam begins to rise. It’s not hot enough yet though.

Thor doesn’t understand. You know how life works. You’ve been there daily, watching him say and do things that he wouldn’t normally do. He’s being forced just as much as you are to deal with things, only his opportunities are much richer in variation.

“You’re angry with me?” Thor knows this, but something about saying it out loud hits him with a harsh sense of injustice. “What choice would you have had me make?”

You stiffen at his new tone. He can see the shift in your body, and he instantly regrets the momentary anger that boiled his blood.

The way your shoulders slump has his heart beating wildly with new panic. How does he fix this? How can he make this up to you? How can the two of you find some common ground?

“Not this,” you say, quietly.

Thor almost doesn’t hear you but only almost..

“Y/N…” his voice is softer, negotiating in an attempt to calm you.

The placating tone has the opposite effect on you.

“The one thing I asked you to do is to be honest with me. I asked you not to make a fool of me and you did it anyway. You lied to me-”

“I didn’t lie-” Thor begins, but he knows that omitting the truth is almost as good as. His voice trails off.

“Not only did you lie to me but-but when we took our vows, I thought-”

Thor clenches his fists, watching you struggle to overcome some emotion that he can’t see because you’re still facing away from him.

“I feel so stupid,” you gasp, and as your voice hitches, Thor realizes that you’re crying.

He rounds the island but you turn to look at him, throwing your arm out towards him, “No!”

He freezes, breathing labored as his stomach aches. His heart tears again, searing pain ripping at his chest.

It only feels worse as he gets a good look at your face, tears streaming down along your cheeks as despair washes over you.

“Don’t touch me,” you beg of him and Thor can’t believe you mean it.

You can’t mean it.

“The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to have a family of my own,” your words aren’t weak or stuttering now.

Your voice is strong and sure, the week of uncertainty having firmed your resolve.

What have I done?

“When you married me, when you accepted me as part of your house, I thought that I’d finally found that. Not just in you but in Loki and Hilde and Heimdall and the rest of our people. And in three seconds, you took that away from me.

“You abandoned me,” you declare and Thor can’t stay silent anymore.

“No! No, Y/N, I have not abandoned you. I’m here. I’m right here. I came for you. To take you home!”

“BUT YOU THOUGHT ABOUT IT!”

Thor can see the frustration in you, the utter befuddlement you must have felt, the betrayal. There’s disappointment and fear but most of all there’s loss. You’ve lost something this week, and even though he doesn’t know what it is for sure, he can guess.

“You gave the thought a presence and you meant it. You would have left me!”

“No!” Thor protests, an anguished cry of his own sorrow. A refusal of your conclusions.

“That’s what I was coming to tell you today. I woke up with the firm belief that Jane was still with child and as soon as it was confirmed, I was going to come and tell you that even with her carrying my child, you are my Queen.

“Nothing could ever change that and the only life I can imagine living is one with you at my side.”

You’re already shaking your head in protest, already disbelieving him. Thor attempts to step closer but you renew your extended arm.

“No,” you tell him firmly, voice low and quiet with resentment. “I need you to stay away from me.”

“You want me to go?!” Thor asks in pained disbelief.

You keep shaking your head, not answering his question.

The silence in the kitchen is heavy and to Thor, it feels endless.

Too few mornings flash through his mind of you waking beside him to turn and recount your plans for the day, your hopes for your lives together. You’ve always wanted to talk to him. You’ve always wanted to be with him.

His touch has never been unwelcome even in the first days of your courtship.

Your eyes are still flooding over, lips trembling, chest rising and falling with the effort of your crying.

His own body is still. This is the lowest he’s ever felt and he’s not sure what moving will do to him.

The quiet is ripped apart by the slow build up of your kettle’s whistle, but you don’t move to take it off the heat.

“Should I leave, cherub?” Thor asks again, his deep voice weak with emotion at the very idea that you’ll tell him to go.

You reach up to wipe at your cheeks, fingertips sweeping new tears away from the edges of your eyes as more rush to replace them.

You reach over and take hold of your elbow.

You’re thinking about it. You’re actually thinking about whether he should leave.

“No,” you finally whisper, unable to say it any louder he guesses.

It probably goes against every instinct in your body to allow him to stay.

Because he needs something to do, because he can’t stand there and just watch you hate him, he turns around and goes back around the island so that he can go to the stove behind you and move the kettle.

Thor watches you follow him with your eyes as he moves then take a step away from him when he slides behind you to get to the stove.

You move to take your seat at the island and Thor pours the heated water into your teapot.

He places the lid on top, the clink of the ceramic loud in your silence.

Your shaking hands give him worry and he moves towards the small pantry to pull a tin of cookies you’d bought in New York during your honeymoon.

You’d gone on and on about how much you enjoyed them and now that memory feels like a lifetime ago.

A happier one.

He moves around the kitchen taking a large plate and loading it up with your cookies. He grabs the milk from the fridge and pulls the artificial sweetener from the far end of the island to move it closer to you.

He’s aware of your eyes on him still, watching his every move with a gaze to rival Heimdall’s. He doesn’t try to dress his actions up as anything other than what they are; concern.

He places your cup closer to you, fills it with tea, milk, and your sweetener. Once done, he moves back around to his side of the island and takes his seat once more.

~~~~~~~~~~

You’re almost angry enough to be petty. You almost want to take your tea and pour it out. Just to show him how much things aren’t okay.

The way he’d walked in here, brazen and as if he hadn’t attempted to take the only true family you’ve ever known and erase it...you can’t.

More because you need to relax, in fear of the little life growing inside you, you take the tea and take a sip.

Thor knows just how you like it.

He’s watching you, staring. He's full of self-loathing and what you'd once thought was love for you. Concern emanates off of him.

He reaches out, and for a moment you think he might take your hand.

You flinch, pulling both your hands onto your lap, but Thor’s hand only meets the edge of the plate of swedish dream cookies you’d bought on your honeymoon. 

He pushes it towards you, and your heart aches painfully. This agony is unbearable.

Your lip quivers again, unable to contain the sorrow of what your marriage is now facing. You know just as he does that you're at an impasse. Tonight things between you will change.

For the better? For worse?

Thor loves you. You can see that. You saw it the moment he showed up, smiling and so happy to see you that his electric blue eye was beaming.

It was that love that made you so angry. It’s why you shouted when you’d promised yourself that when he came, you wouldn’t raise your voice.

Heimdall had been nice enough to give you warning this morning that Thor would be coming today and that nothing would deter him from seeing you.

You’d been so angry when you’d gotten the call, but you’d talked to Dr. Wilson about staying calm and she'd pointed out that having all of these unresolved feelings would do the baby more harm than good.

While deciding to resolve this today, choosing to stay calm had failed dramatically.

“Please, love, eat something,” Thor begs. "You're shaking. I know you've eaten nothing all day."

How the hell can he tell?! Was Dr. Wilson spying for him?

Even she'd been unable to force more than a few bites of a sandwich into your stomach. You've been dreading this confrontation all day.

Now that it’s here, it's worse than you imagined.

You hate how much hearing the pain in his voice also hurts you. You don’t want to feel any kind of sympathy for him right now. After what he said…

You eat because you’re worried about the baby. Not because Thor is asking.

One cookie is enough to help your queasy stomach feel better, a sip of tea settles your frayed nerves.

You relax a little, the tension in your body partially gone.

Neither you nor Thor say anything for a while and you’re grateful for the silence. You need lots of time to think.

While you think, you eat.

Cookie after cookie as your stomach groans in relief of finally being fed. Not exactly nutritious but it's something.

Despite your body's reaction to the unexpected junk food, the revelation that Jane isn’t pregnant after all is the only thing that you can really focus on.

You'd know she would try something. Not this though. You'd expected a pass at Thor. You'd expected her to try and get him back and you'd been so sure about his feelings for you that you'd been sure nothing would happen.

You hadn't expected her to find a way to reach in and pull it all up by its roots.

Finally, Thor clears his throat. There's and eager shine to his eye now, curiosity needing answers. In this moment you realize that his mind is filled with something else. Something much happier to think about that while it does bring you joy, you can’t share in that joy with Thor yet. Not after everything.

“Is it true?” he asks, the corners of his lips curved and the set of his brow eager. He can't help it. “Are you really pregnant?”

You meet his gaze and reach up to wipe the last of your tears away.

“I’m about three months? A little over. It would have happened during our honeymoon.”

Your explanation brings a smile to his face and he’s so beautiful you find yourself hardening again in defense.

"Your Asgardian blood was making it difficult for my doctors to confirm the pregnancy. The first was negative. The second, inconclusive, but then negative. The third was also inconclusive but this one didn't change to negative so they tried some other things and it finally showed positive.

"They tested my blood over and over. It’s real."

This is what both of you have been wanting since before you were married. You’d wanted to give him an heir and he’d wanted one. You’d wanted to start a family and he’d been desperate for the same.

This is the moment the two of you have been dreaming of and now that it’s here, it’s nothing like you’d pictured.

The joy you’d felt on your trip to the war room to give him the news is lost on you now. Tainted.

“Are-are you not happy?”

“How can you ask me that?” you frown, hostile resentment tainting your features.

He deflates at your tone and you almost regret letting how you feel show so openly.

Almost.

Thor’s face pales and he looks down at the island, his own cup still empty.

Because you do feel bad, though you don’t regret letting him know how angry you are, you get up and pull a beer from the fridge.

Placing it in front of him, you take your seat again.

Thor’s face floods with hope.

"The only reason you're here is because Heimdall knew you'd come. He saw that you were decided and would stop at nothing to come here but if he hadn't given me the warning, you'd be standing outside on the porch banging on the door asking me to let you in. You need to know that.."

Even though the hope in his eyes had made you so angry just a moment ago, as it disappears, you feel a surge of grief.

"I don't understand," Thor begins softly, both hands reaching across the island towards yours wrapped securely around your tea cup. "Why are you so angry, cherub?"

He's not putting it together? Does he seriously not see how what he did is a problem?

"I've told you that Jane is not pregnant so there will be no child and even before I'd found out, I had made my choice to stay with you. These are good things, aren't they?"

The wonder in his voice is real. The agony of his confusion is real.

Somehow you need to make him understand.

You scoff, trying hard not to be cynical after the blow you've taken to your pride.

"Do you remember the day we got married?"

"Vividly," Thor nods and attempts a smile.

A quick stern glare from you settles him down.

"Do you remember welcoming me into your house? Do you have any idea what becoming a member of your family has meant to me?

"I have lived my life alone, Thor. I had no one. From the day my parents died to the moment I agreed to marry you, there was not a single person who I belonged to who also belonged to me.

"Marrying you gave me a home. It gave me people to call my own. It gave me a kingdom full of loving and loyal subjects.

"Marrying you took my loneliness and destroyed it. I had a brothers, sisters, and a husband who I thought loved me as one of his own. I thought you had accepted me as part of your family until the day I died."

You sigh, voice tight and always on the verge of breaking into tears.

"I have, cherub. You are my everything!" Thor’s interruption doesn't phase you this time.

You keep talking as if he'd said nothing.

"And when I've finally done it, when we've finally got what we wanted, you throw me away."

"No!" Thor rises and moves around the island towards you.

This time you don't stop him because nothing he says or does will change your mind. Nothing will fix this.

He sweeps you into his arms, pulling you close so that you have to look up at his face from your spot in your seat. His massive hands caress the sides of your face as his pleasant warmth chases away the horrible nightmares you’ve had all week.

But his arms, his touch, can’t chase away the break in your heart. It can’t fix the pain that feels etched into your veins. Your sinew is rewritten with the agony of his fleeting choice to leave you. Nothing will ever be the same.

“I didn’t throw you away, I was confused. I didn’t know what to do or what the best course of action was. I should have come to you. I should have told you about Jane and I should have consulted with you, my wife, my Queen before making any rash decisions.

“I know that I did wrong, but believe me when I tell you that I love you more than my own life. I can’t imagine my life without you, cherub. I’m sorry that I have caused you such distress. I am sorry that I made you think, even for one second, that I could make my way through this existence without you.

“I love you. And I am never letting you go.”

Your heart is unmoved. Even as he stares down at you with his eye clear and sure. The set of his jaw is firm, and his hands keep stroking your cheeks, temples, and scalp as you watch the fire in him fade.

Slowly, he realizes that the damage is done.

It takes him a long time. His body falls, shoulders slumping, arms not so tight around you, hands a little more gentle. It’s the set of his lips that tells you when he’s accepted it. That he’s broken you and your marriage and there is no repair here.

Not now.

“What will you do?” he asks, hands gliding down along the sides of your neck, shoulders, arms, and elbows where he finally lets go and moves back around the island to take his seat again, throwing himself down in defeat as his hand wraps around his beer.

“I’m still your wife, Thor,” you sigh, turning to look at your cup of tea. “I am still Queen of New Asgard. I’ll do my job as best as I can, from here.”

“Here?” he asks, shocked.

“I can’t go back to the palace. Not right away. I need...I meant it when I said that I needed a break.”

“From me?” Thor guesses, and you can see his heartbreaking.

“From us, yes.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “A few weeks? Months? Years?”

He looks more devastated the longer you speak.

“I don’t know how long it will take me to trust you again. When you told Loki that you’d get an annulment and make me out to be the problem by my not giving you any kids, you took any faith and confidence I had in us and your love for me and flushed it down the toilet.

“I can’t just pretend that didn’t happen. Even though we have nothing to worry about now, I can’t just forget the way I felt. I’m gonna need time.”

The war raging within Thor right now is painful to watch. You can safely assume that he’s almost refusing to go another day without you, much less weeks, months, or years. 

You can also see the regret he’s feeling. The anger. It passes quickly though, and Thor takes another long drink from his beer, draining the bottle before he sets it aside.

He reaches up to wipe at his fuzzy lips, his beard scratchy as he breathes in deeply.

He meets your gaze and nods, “I will give you whatever you need. I will send you a guard. I don’t want you here alone.”

You’re not about to oppose the protection. Not with the baby on the way.

“You should probably make the announcement of the baby. And give some excuse about me staying away. Our people deserve to know. They’ve been waiting too.”

“Mm.” Thor agrees. “What shall I tell the others?”

“Loki already knows. He’s known since I came here.”

“What?!”

“Hey, no!” you frown at him, anger tinging your words. “You can’t be angry at Loki for doing as I asked. I’ve been alone up here waiting to know whether you’re going to leave me or not. He only did what I needed.”

Thor’s anger passes through him in phases. In seconds, he’s calm again, but still breathing through flared nostrils.

“Why did you not tell me? If you’d told me sooner-”

“If I’d told you sooner then I wouldn’t know if you were with me because you love me or because the baby was finally coming. I didn’t want to live the rest of my life never knowing whether your sticking by me in this marriage is because I was finally having our kid. That’s not the kind of life that I want for myself.

“I’m not sorry that I didn’t tell you, Thor. Because even if I can’t trust you, at least I know whether you’d decided not to leave me before you knew I was pregnant.”

Thor’s face is full of sorrow. He’s coming to terms with everything as quickly as he can since you’re not giving him much choice. Are you wrong to put some distance between the two of you?

Should you forgive and forget?

Part of you, the part that loves the man you married, wants to reach out and touch his cheek. You want to tell him that you love him and that nothing will ever change that. You want to celebrate the future you have growing inside you and revel in the fact that Jane’s lie is over and move on with your lives.

The bigger part of you can’t trust his words. Can’t trust his touch. In a few moments, Thor had torn apart the truths of every caress and declaration that he’d made since you got married.

The bigger part of you knows that you can’t trust him. The bigger part of you knows that he could hurt you again. He might very well rip your heart in two for good the next time, and what kind of life can you have like that?

No. As much as your heart loves him, your brain is telling you to play this cautiously from here on out.

“I’ll come to any functions I need to. I’ll make sure I’m there on your arm. But don’t expect things to be the same between us Thor.”

He nods in defeat, “Can I fix this? Is there anything I might do to prove to you that my love is real?”

“It’s not a question of me not believing that you love me,” you explain, sighing lightly as you come to these realizations yourself as Thor makes you face the inevitabilities you’ve been avoiding all week.

You’ve tried hard to keep from pondering the future with or without him. Now that he’s asking, you can’t avoid it anymore.

“I know that you can’t put me before your throne. I know that your people have to come first. I’ve known that since I married you and when I talked to Loki and David about what happened they both told me what I already know.

“You have responsibilities to our people first and foremost and any choices, whether you want to make them or not, are made for them. I can never be first for you. I know that. My mind knows that. It’s honorable that you will always do right by your people.

“But my heart can’t accept that,” you’ve been trying to keep from crying again but as you admit your insecurity aloud, your heart clenches painfully drawing from your eyes a welling of tears. “Because I’ve fallen in love with you completely, Thor. I never knew that loving someone could be this terrifying and painful. Just the thought that you’d decided to make our marriage disappear as if it had never happened ripped me to pieces and I don’t know how to come back from that.”

You sob and Thor leans over the island to take your hand. You don’t pull away this time. You let him give you this small bit of comfort because you need it. Your heart, the fact that he wants to touch you, needs it.

“Even if it was only for a moment, you left me. I want to be first for you. I want to be the only thing that matters. And I can’t be. And I know that. Which makes me feel like such shit because I shouldn’t be asking you for this. I know that you can’t give it to me.

“It’s why Jane told you no. Along with her job, I know that it’s the reason that she couldn’t marry you. She knew that for you, she would always come second to New Asgard.

“I knew that too. When I agreed to marry you, I knew that you’d have to do things for them first. But I love you so much and I-it sucks that I know now if you have to choose between me or your people, you’ll choose your people.

“It’s right. You should. But it fucking sucks and it hurts too much.”

You’re full on crying now and Thor gets up, but you raise your hand to stop him. With a shake of your head he sits back down.

“So…” you sniffle. “What you can do for me is give me the distance I need to work through this. I need to come to terms with the fact that after our baby is born, I’ll be third. I need to just learn and accept that no matter how much you say you love me, you can never choose me.

“Can you give me that? Can you give me space?”

As you meet his gaze, his intense unrelenting stare, you can see him warring with himself. You can see the confusion and the indecision. You can see the agony of what you’re asking of him but somehow he manages to nod.

His own eye waters and after a second nod, his tears spill over to trail across his cheek and lose themselves in his beard.

“I’m sorry, cherub,” he grieves. “I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“I know that, Thor. But I have to find out how much of myself I can invest in our marriage. Because if loving you like this means I have to feel this kind of pain over and over again, I don’t think I can keep loving you. Not like this.”

Your words hurt him and you regret them, but you can’t take them back because they’re truth. You need to guard yourself and you aren’t going to apologize for putting yourself first when no one else in your life will.

The silence is never ending.

The two of you sit sniffling at the island for what feels like hours. Finally, your stomach rumbles loudly and Thor springs up from his seat to the fridge.

He starts pulling out an array of ingredients that you don’t pay too much mind to.

He fills the house with the smells of chicken, paprika, rosemary, lemon, and some other spices you can’t pick out. It makes your stomach growl more loudly and at least with his mind and hands busy making your dinner, he stops crying and that at least gives you a little bit of a break from the horror you’ve been feeling at causing him so much pain with your choice to distance yourself from him.

“Might I stay the night?” he checks, surprising you a bit by the question.

“On the couch,” you whisper, unable to speak any louder.

The idea of him sleeping in the same space but not next to you is unbearable, but somehow you find a way to deal.

His hand stutters over the pan but after a moment he goes back to cooking.

“The couch is fine,” he agrees. “Whatever you need, love.”

And even though his words tell you he’s fine, you know him well enough to recognize the depression in his stoic gaze.

[yandere-society]

Moonlight

Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

Synopsis: Taehyung was a man of many things: handsome, young, rich, the reigning lord of the Kim manor. He was a man adored, a man respected. But beneath the studly exterior, he held a dark, demonic secret that floated towards the surface once every full moon. It was this secret that would unknowingly entangle you in his claws until there was no way out.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Yandere themes, Possessive Tae, Werewolves, Kidnapping mention, Sexual assault, Murder, Death, also it’s unedited cause I hate myself

Headline: Beast Of The Night Strikes Again! 2 Dead, Several Injured

Admin: @roses-ruby​

_

The town suffers through another full moon of terror as the one described as the ‘dog beast’ struck again late last night. Lawmen are baffled at the carnage, describing the victims torn limbs and missing hearts as an act- “most definitely inhumane.” Townsfolk have stated that they heard the creature growl and moan for hours on end until it seemingly disappeared near the Kim manor. As for the owner of the manor, Kim Taehyung - an attractive bachelor who inherited his great grandfather’s land - refused to comment and dismissed the claims of such a being as “ludicrous and delusional.” Whatsoever it may be, the fact of the matter is that there is someone or something raging with bloodlust every time the moon shines its brightest and it might just be out for your heart next.

“It is truly incredible how some of the most credible news sources have begun to sound so half-witted these days… ‘attractive bachelor?’ Seems like you’re up for auction in the middle of this tragic incident…”

“It is a small town with unusually large tales…they’ll do anything to sell their trashy story…” He runs his fingers through his long black locks, a small huff of irritation leaving his lips.

“A story that will keep children up past midnight I’m sure…” The older gentleman places today’s paper back on the table and walks up to where the younger stood, matching his distant stare out the window. “The flowers were exceptionally beautiful in this year’s bloom. Such a shame they’ll be dead soon.”

It was a passive observation, one he didn’t have to respond to; however, it was his nature to always hold a firm stance on even the slightest of interactions. He hums in agreement, gazing out towards the colorfully green garden that his study overlooked. But rather than admiring the beauty of the large field, his eyes were instead hooked on a small figure bustling about the grounds in a long black dress.

“Master,” A calm voice interrupted him from his trance, “Shall I adjust your schedule in case you were to head into town today?”

His long-time butler, Seung, bowed quietly in his direction.

“No need.” He replies mindlessly.

“Now, now,” His uncle next him chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening, “It would do you good to show your handsome bust among the public. Your presence as Lord might provide some comfort…”

As if he should be the one comforting weeping mothers and terrified children.

He was about to decline the smiling face of this man who bore him nothing but animosity, but he was interrupted by his uncle’s careless gaze suddenly modifying into something additionally sinister.

“Or is it that you’re too tired for such a simple task? You look as if you have not slept in ages. Are you doing alright, perhaps?”

Other than the shiver that ran down Taehyung’s spine at his foxiness, he was unfazed by the weighty question. Usually, his feigned concern would make him chuckle, if he wasn’t so emotionally exhausted from last night’s events.

“I’m fine.” He turns to Seung without missing a beat, “Uncle is right. Get the carriage ready, I will be heading into town today.”

“Yes, Master.” Seung bows, but before he could quietly leave the room, Taehyung calls for him again. “And get my Uncle’s carriage ready for departure as well. I am sure at his age he would love nothing more than to be resting at home this very moment.”

There was a small confrontational silence between the senior and him after his loaded remark. But it vanished the very next second when his Uncle began to chuckle loudly, as if there was nothing but mirth between the two of them.

“You are right on the mark, young lad. As sharp as ever I see.” He spins around, walking back to the table he once sat at “I shall be out of your hair soon.”

Taehyung watches him as he picks up the paper he had been scrutinizing before he commences his departure from the chamber.

“Are you perhaps interested in the dog beast?”

“Why, not at all,” He responds calmly, turning to the younger with the same somber expression as before, “I just need some entertainment for the road. Surely, you don’t mind?”

He did not. For now, he desired his uncle’s departure the most. It was not as if he could see his own forthcoming demise stained in the ink of that paper.

Autumn’s cool breeze surrounds your body as you tend to the large grounds of the Kim manor, trimming off uneven stems from a massive rose bush.

“___,” A frantic voice suddenly calls your name, capturing your attention as your gaze falls down onto a petite figure dressed in a similar maid’s uniform running towards you, “___! Did you hear?”

“About?”

“Today’s paper!” Seulgi spoke out of breath, like it was the most obvious thing, “Those men…aren’t they the same lads who-”

“SSHHH!” You hiss, blocking her loudmouth with your palm. Her whines against your hand were similar to that of an adolescent as you whirled your head around the garden, making sure no one was near your vicinity. “I told you not to speak a word of that!”

Seulgi successfully tugs you off of her, “I know! But is it not bizarre? That beast attacked those men!”

“There is no beast!” You growled, “Everyone in town was aware that Wan and his men were good-for-nothing hooligans! They probably wandered into the forest late at night, drunk and belligerent, and attracted a bear!”

“Hmm, perhaps…” Seulgi pouts, “But what about the articles? All those farmers who lost their cattle the same exact way… with their hearts missin-”

“I’m sure those are nothing but carnivorous rodents.” You huff in irritation, picking up the sheers to return to your work. The girl besides you threw a tantrum using her feet, and you wonder when exactly it was that you befriended such a child. “Are you even done with your station or will I have to do that for you again after the Housekeeper is done scolding you?”

This manages to scare her off, and you watch her retreating figure in slight humor before turning back to the rosebush. As you snap another set of leaves, you manage to take a glance at the window of the lord’s study, apprehensively watching his back disappear further into his room.

All you’ve wanted from this manor and its lords was a chance to toil quietly – in peace. Your simple servant status does not offend you, rather it provides you security in relations with the world. You were not interested in meddling with anyone’s affair, especially with those who lived in powerful and dangerous realities. So, it does not matter.

What you saw last night, near the clearing behind the manor does not matter. It had nothing to do with you, and you were planning on keeping it that way.

_

Lord Kim was annoyed.

Really though, when was he not? As the carriage decelerates into the gates of his estate, his exhaustion only multiplies. Faking a straight face and an empty gaze took its toll on him, even if he had been playing theater his whole life. It was hard enough to keep up with this perfect charade as the lord of the manor, but it had just gotten worse with time…and with the incidents.

He was reluctant to head into town, leer over dismembered bodies and chat with the commissioner, but did so anyway thanks to his uncle’s instigation. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice - any sign of weakness would invite his extended family to sink their teeth and claws into him, wringing him dry within a matter of minutes. His father died too early and Taehyung did not bear a successor yet, so whoever would be the first to either exhaust, kill or seduce him would eventually take his place as lord. After being unfortunate enough to witness countless amounts of cruelty from them since age eight, he knew he had to keep his farce strong.

Common folk would think he was protecting his blessed birthright. But in a deep, hidden corner of his mind, the reality loomed that neither this life nor this manor was blessed in the slightest.

“We’re home, my lord.” His thoughts are interrupted as the carriage stops, the door opening to reveal a flawlessly still Seung waiting for him to disembark.

As he exited his carriage, his shoulders drooping and head spinning, his eyes managed to fall on you in the distance. You stood far away, underneath the stone canopy of the servant’s quarters, next to that bumbling friend of yours with your head bowed as the housekeeper shouted herself silly at the both you. It seems that you have once again found trouble thanks to the petite nitwit by your side.

Yet still, even with your gaze downcast, he could sense the poise in your stance. An aura of composure and self-confidence that has never left your being no matter where you stood, or who stood over you. At first, he just happened to relate to you and the notion of keeping together a tough act. But over time, he came to realize that you weren’t acting at all – that you, a mere servant, were as perfectly assured as you seemed.

It made him envious.

“Master?” Seung pulled him back to reality.

He turned away, scuffing his expensive shoes amongst the gravel to head into the direction of his manor. Yet still, after the small sight of you, he couldn’t help but smile to himself for the first time that night.

“Dinner is served.”

A tray was lifted to reveal a large pot of thick, saucy white soup. He had wanted something light ever since the previous night, and the chef had delivered quite nicely. Taehyung sits patiently, waiting to be served as the maidservants walk into the room with the housekeeper. His eyes immediately land on you out if habit, and he wonders if you were to tend to him tonight. But to his surprise, it’s your friend who comes up to the table to oblige him his dinner instead. She takes a ladle and dips it into the soup – just a minute, she forgot to pick up his soup bowl?

Realizing she forgot the bowl; she looks startled for a bit before she hovers a hand underneath the ladle and walks closer to his direction. He has to try really hard not to burst out into a fit of laughter as he witnesses you shake in fear at her antics. Seems like he was not the only one distracted because the very next second your friend trips over her own foot on the way to his bowl and loses her grip on the soup-filled ladle, which flies towards him.

And in an instant, his whole head was wet and runny with his dinner. It was quiet for the first minute – which appeared to have stretched out into hours for the servants – until many different voices began shouting at once.

“Y-young Master! T-Towel- I shall fetch a towel!”

“MY LORD!”

“My lord! I-I-I apologize I-!”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your face was stiff in horror as you watched the creamy soup drip off his hair. Seung ran back into the room with a towel in his arm as the housekeeper bellowed at your friend.

Before Seung could wipe his hair, Taehyung held his wrist and took the towel into his own hands. Then he stood up, surprising the whole room, even the shrieking housekeeper, shut. He lightly wiped the edges of his bangs for a minute in silence, feeling the wet soup drool into his shirt before he turned towards your friend.

“Well, what a mess…” He stated absentmindedly, watching the girl shrink under his gaze until she became as small as a pebble. She seemed to be trying her utter best not to cry.

“Lord…” A soft, but confident voice interrupted the dead silence of the room. You stepped up next to your friend, your head down as you cleared your throat, “It…It is my fault actually…”

Your friend turns to you in shock. Everyone in the room was now glancing at you; the servants with petrified eyes and Taehyung with amused ones.

“Explain yourself.”

“Th-that…I spoke about the dog beast who was in today’s paper to miss Kang and…and I seem to have frightened her which is why she’s been a bit distracted…b-but it is my fault, so I deserve the punishment.”

“N-no!” You friend suddenly cries in a strained voice and you elbow her to keep shut. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, before complying to your implication with her eyes squeezed shut tight. The servants all held their breath, waiting for the lord’s next move. They all seem to flinch when he sighs,

“…I see…” Taehyung holds in a chuckle, “You’re right miss ___, this indeed seems to be your fault…”

Seulgi quietly whines in her throat and you wish she could for once read your mind and jam her loud trap.

“…Well then,” Taehyung’s deep voice captures your full attention, “Meet me in my room an hour before midnight. I shall decide on your punishment by then.”

No one said anything further, but they all seemed to be thinking of the exact same thing. Even Seung appeared disturbed. But…it just couldn’t be… The lord has never even taken an interest in women much less bed with one. You, too astonished to remember your place, straightened your posture and stared at him straight in the eye for the very first time. There wasn’t any hint of jest or error, which left you further baffled at the Lord’s request.

No, perhaps it was just you who misunderstood.

“Y-yes Lord.” You manage to spit out.

At your approval the lord smiles, which startles you out of your insolence. You return to your humble position as the Lord begins to walk away from the room.

“Seung, prepare my bath.” Taehyung calls out in glee.

“…Yes, master…”

_

You sigh, standing in front of the thick wooden door of your Lord’s master chamber.

“Well, there goes the goal of keeping from trouble…” You whisper to yourself in defeat. And thanks to that gigantic fool Seulgi, you were late to your own punishment trial. She would not stop crying and apologizing, even though you told her it was now your problem, so she has nothing to be sorry about.

Still, the main dilemma for you in this moment was not her, but your current circumstances. Why were you called out to the Lord’s chamber an hour before midnight? The sensitive time frame would provide anyone the wrong impression, not just you. If he really were to ask you to…bed with him…what then?

You quickly shake your head no. It was not healthy for you to have such thoughts about your Lord. Since adolescence, you had been a reasonable girl who was guided by logic. There was no rationality in this idea and you’re sure Lord Kim had a good excuse for calling you out so late – an excuse that has nothing to do with...whatever you were just thinking. After pulling yourself together with a deep breath, you knock on the wood three times.

“Come in.” You immediately hear, which allows you to nervously turn the handle and push open the door.

There stood Lord Kim, by the end of the bed, in his sleepwear. His hair was a mess of slight, drooping curls, possibly the aftermath of his bath, and his stare was a lot more lax than normal. You gulped quietly under his gaze, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind you.

“You’re late, miss ___.” His voice was deep, but soft. It felt as if he was trying to jester you.

“I-I apologize, my Lord. I was held up by the housekeeper…”

It was a lie and you did feel guilty, but it would also be immensely satisfying to witness that old witch being chided.

“My, my, it seems like she is always after you and that friend of yours,” You could hear what sounded like mischief in his tone, “Which reminds me, she came to speak to me.”

“The housekeeper?”

“No, your friend. She told me you lied for her.”

That was the last straw. You were going to kill that idiot.

“I…I…S…” What were you to say now? Should you apologize for your dishonesty?

“I think it’s commendable.” You were interrupted from your thoughts by your Lord’s words. When you meet his eyes, you see him smiling gently in your direction. “You tried to protect your friend. It takes a good heart for that.”

“Thank you, sire…” You weren’t sure how to adequately respond - if he really was complimenting you. Your uncertainty stemmed from your upbringing; rather than a trait to compensate, behaving and caring for your younger siblings was regarded as your duty. It was also why maid work came so easily to you. And Seulgi, with her childish nature yet endearing personality, reminded you of those you tended to back home, so you considered looking after her a mere responsibility.

“I do like that nature of yours.” He proceeds casually, making you blush. “But I still have to punish you for your dishonesty.”

You nod your head, eyes falling to the floor. Even without gaping at him, you were aware of how strong his gaze was. It was only natural to get disciplined as a servant, but for it to come from Lord Kim himself made you fearful.

“Miss ___, sleep with me.”

Your head whirls up to meet his stare, shock painting your face.

“W-”

“Please don’t misunderstand me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Although you’re quite beautiful, I only desire your lap.”

…

What?

“I-” Your Lord stutters, facing away from you and crossing arms in embarrassment, “I just…these days I have been having some trouble sleeping. Many peers have remarked on my dark circles and laxing attitude. This won’t do! As the Lord of the Kim manor, I have to appear fully rested and in the best condition at all times or else.”

He turns back to your direction,

“W…when I was a young lad…I would sleep on my mother’s lap. It was the most comforting of places to me and sleep was never a cause for concern back then. Which is why…I wanted to seek that same comfort once more…so that I may be able to rest heartedly and prepare myself to face the world of politics tomorrow. I just…I was wondering if I could borrow your lap for a few nights?”

It was quiet after his explanation. Your mind gradually processing all the information in his tale. He appeared to be immensely nervous, as if waiting for you to decline. You had to hide your amusement.

“I am ready for my punishment, my Lord.”

The young Lord smiles, which has your heart racing. Surely, he was a beautiful man.

“Thank you. Please sit on the bed, near my headboard.” He orders bashfully.

_

You swung another sheet over the clothing line.

Days had passed since your initial ‘punishment,’ and today would mark the first whole month of you lending your lap to your Lord. Your nightly time with the Lord had become an occurrence you cherished. There was so much you managed to learn about the man who rested on you – like how he scrunches his nose when he encounters a nightmare or how he moans only when he is in his deepest of slumbers. He was different than how you originally imagined; his cold exterior was nothing but a farce. In reality, he was so childlike and so innocent.

So different from other men.

Yes, that’s right, he was nothing like Wan. Remembering that scoundrel had you shivering in your legs from disgust. You usually didn’t have the most pleasant encounters with the men in town, but Wan had been a special case. Although you did not wish to think ill of the dead, there was nothing ever good about that man, and frankly you’re not very upset that he’s gone.

You remember the day much too clearly; it was a week before he would meet his demise. The housekeeper had sent you and Seulgi into town on a shopping errand – she wanted you to pick up meat and vegetables for dinner. It wouldn’t be the first time you went into town for a chore, but it would certainly be the most unpleasant.

As you and Seulgi stepped out of the farmer’s store carrying a load of groceries in a paper bag you held with both arms, you spotted Wan and his friends walking towards you from the opposite direction. They were cackling loudly, drunk in the middle of the day and out of their minds. You paid them no attention, ready to head back to the manor but your unwitty friend stared straight at them until Wan eventually made eye contact with her.

“Well, well, well,” He slurred in your direction, catching your gaze, “If it isn’t the whores of Kim manor!”

Because of his brash nature, everyone’s regard fell on the two of you. You tried to look unfazed by his disgusting behavior, taking Seulgi by the hand and leading her around the men. But Wan interjected your path as his friends laughed on.

“We need to get back. Leave us alone.” You stated calmly

“Why, we won’t keep you for long,” He grinned, and you recoiled from the alcohol in his breath, “Besides, they won’t miss you- them rich folk. Isn’t that right, fellas?”

His friends began to shout and woo, enclosing in on you almost completely, and you could feel Seulgi shaking behind you.

“We need…to get back.” You say once again, cursing at yourself when your voice cracks. Wan throws his head back and laughs as hard as he could while the townsfolk just observe the show. Anger begins to well up alongside the fear and you purse your lips, picking up your feet and tugging Seulgi along.

It didn’t matter if you had to bulldoze through him, you were going to get back to Kim manor no matter what. So you step close, ready to collide into him before he suddenly sidesteps. Thinking he was distracted; you weren’t prepared for his swift movement and you certainly weren’t prepared to feel a hard thwack on your backside. A breath of surprise leaves your throat and the feeling in your arms disappear, which lets the paper bag fall out of your grasp, spilling its contents along the street. You stare at the ground, paralyzed by shock as Seulgi meekly cries out your name.

“Wan, you mad lad!” Someone from his group yells, clasping their hand into his in jest while they all express their amusement at your humiliation. The group aggressively howls, making perverse remarks before eventually continuing down the road, fully disregarding your presence. They left, without any consequences. As if they didn’t just horribly disgrace you.

“___...” Seulgi steps up to your side, crying her eyes out in worry. If this was another time you would console her – scold her for being a crybaby – but at the moment you could think of nothing. You had been a maidservant for almost a decade now and even then, you had never been treated so awfully. What’s worse is that they all saw…they all saw and said nothing.

Not wanting to waste a minute further, you fall to your knees and start gathering the vegetables that fell about. Seulgi calls your name again but you focus on your task. You have to stay composed, you have to stay composed – you repeat it to yourself like mantra. But that sensation of emptiness returns, and you freeze. Before you knew it, you were trembling on the floor with tears streaming down your face and everyone still watched on.

“___.” Seulgi wrapped herself around you tightly. For a moment your fortitude was shattered as you cried in her arms on that dirty street.

Wan was most definitely scum, you conclude with a huff as you finish straightening the laundered bedsheet. But still, you halt, dying the way he did…it’s something you wouldn’t wish on anyone. Your mind wanders back to that paper, torn limbs and missing hearts. Could it possibly be related to what you saw that night on the previous full moon? With a frown, you stare up at the sky, watching the whiffs of white clouds swirl through the blue fabric.

“___!” You hear the familiar shouts of your name and turn to see Seulgi running towards you. “___, there you are!”

“What is it this time?” You sigh as she encloses in on you

“___, is it true that you are consummating with the Lord?”

Dropping the sheet out of your hands, you spin towards the loudmouthed idiot, “W-w-w-where did you hear that?”

“The other maidservants were whispering on it,” She replies with an innocent grin, “Is he as good as the rumors say?”

“A-a-a-as the w-what? What rumors- what- consummate- a-are you out of your mind?” You were blushing from head to toe.

Seulgi looks dejected at your response, “So it isn’t true?”

“Of course not!”

“Ohh,” She groans sullenly, “But I guess it would be impossible for a lord to take interest in maidservants like us.”

Your bashfulness vanishes in an instant. She was correct, there is absolutely no reason for you to find yourself special. Lord Kim had made it clear that he has no interest in you, he just requires a lap and is too proud to ask someone close. This was originally a punishment for you and nothing more – you shouldn’t become too attached.

“___?” Seulgi’s voice was low, “Are you alright? You seem down…”

“…I’m fine.” You mutter, composing yourself, “But more importantly…why are you here to ask me about baseless gossip? Are you done with your station? Remember you have to use the right tools- just scrubbing vigorously doesn’t work-”

“Oh my god- yes, yes, yes!” She responds by childishly covering her ears, “I have to use the coil sponge not the foam one, I get it!”

You begin to scold her as she laughs, prancing around the grass without a care. But soon the humor dies down and it was time to return to work. Before she leaves for her station, she makes a passive comment.

“Tonight’s another full moon. In the night of Samhain.” There was something dim about her tone as she gazes up towards the sky. You join her, wondering if she somehow had the same bad premonition as you did.

_

While you were chatting with your friend, Taehyung was having tea with a man he’d rather throw into a river.

“What brings you here?”

“My, do you sound cold.” His uncle chuckles, taking another sip of his tea, “Am I not allowed to visit my nephew out of fondness?”

“Well, after twenty-so years, consider me surprised.” Taehyung deadpans, which only further humors the elder.

“Perhaps I do have a motive.” He grins for a moment before all signs of amusement vanish from his expression. “I could not help but toil my mind over that paper from before. The townsfolk swore they heard the dog beast growl late into the night before fading behind Kim manor.”

“I thought we agreed the paper was nothing more than gossip fodder.”

“And perhaps that’s all it is.” His uncle’s smile was innocent but held such contempt. “However, as a gentleman who resides in the city, I find myself quite inclined by the mysteries of small towns such as this.”

“What nonsense,” Taehyung scoffs, “Are you saying you wish to investigate this supernatural rubbish the townsfolks gripe about?

“Indeed! The dog beast is nothing but rubbish!” The elder’s laughter was hearty, “But then, there is the question of who killed those men?”

The room was silent, drowning in the animosity the two men felt for one another. Neither one spoke – his Uncle because he had nothing more to say and Taehyung because he felt his throat clogging. He wanted to decline, desperate to splurge words of refusal, but then the fact that he had something to hide becomes too apparent.

“Surely, you won’t mind me staying? Just for one night?”

“Stay as you wish, uncle.”

You were already situated on his bed when your Lord swung the door open.

The sound made you jump, and you immediately rose to your feet to show respect. He began walking towards you in a fast, heavy pace with his feet striking the wood. His face had you unnerved – anger in his frown as well as what you could only describe as dismay in his eyes. Before you could open your mouth to react, you were taken into his arms in a sudden and swift motion.

It left your mind blank.

He squeezed himself onto you, his chest colliding with yours as his scent surrounded your senses. Your arms were hovering his back while your fingers curled into themselves, unsure of your position at the moment. Lord Kim hugged you tight, as if he was afraid.

“M-my Lo-”

“Tonight.” He interjected, muffling into neck as he laid his head on your shoulder, “Do not let me go tonight, whatever you do. Hold onto me as tight as you possibly can, do you hear me? Do not let me wander, I beg you.”

His tone broke your heart. He sounded so frightened – so desperate and you had no clue on how to help him. The Lord has always been the strength of this household. No one had ever witnessed him so distressed, not even at the previous Lord’s funeral. Hesitantly, you placed your fingers against his vertebrate and sat back on the mattress, guiding him gently down with you.

“I won’t let you go, my Lord.” You didn’t know what else to say.

He placed his head on your lap, arms still clinging onto you like a child. His mind seemed to be in the middle of a warzone against himself. The memory of a young man sitting in front of his father’s casket, immobile and silent as a rock, was still so vivid to you. You had only been at Kim Manor for a few months back then, and you remember being disturbed by his attitude – wondering if he had any feelings at all. But after learning about how often his extended family plotted against him, to the point of kidnapping him as an eight-year-old, you began to view that tearless boy with pity.

Watching him tremble in your lap has you reaching out to him. Your digits tread into his soft hair and you slowly move them about to calm his tremors. He seems to respond; his quivers coming to a slight halt at your touch.

You don’t know for how long you rubbed his head, listening to him breath.

You don’t know when you fell asleep.

_

His whole body was aching as he walked towards the grass, trying to ease the sharp pain in his head.

He had been taught that the best place to alter was out in an open, murky environment. Somewhere you could feel the air on your skin as the patches of hair slit through your pores like needles through fabric. Yet still, somewhere impenetrable through the naked eye. There was an area like so behind Kim manor – a clearing that was connected to a large acre of uninhabited woods. And among those acres laid several swamps and bogs, which formed a thick layer of fog around the grounds of the manor – most prominent on the night of the full moon.

It was the perfect place for him, who had been poisoned with this modification.

With his mind as cloudy as the fog, he thinks back to the first time he witnessed his father alter. He was far too young, a month away from ten, when he was brought out to this clearing and visually counseled on his dreadful future. More than anything he wanted to look away, he did not wish to see his beloved father become this monster, but Seung held his hand tight and told him to hold witness for his very own sake. And he witnessed – witnessed his father thrash about as if he wanted to claw his own brains out and he cried.

He cried along with his father. But there was never any other option for him than to tolerate the dread from his place as heir to Kim manor.

It was always painful, every moment his heart pumped blood into his body, he moaned in agony. While the night raged on, he noticed his panting grew deeper by the second – tone sinking to a gruff growl which rips through his chest. His eyes and sense of smell grew keener, large nails grotesquely rip through his skin and his teeth began to enlarge. The image of the moonlight basking on his skin was the only thing offering him refuge.

If he had a choice, he would have chosen to stay inside with the warm you, stare enchantedly at your resting face like the many instants he’s done before. But his changes weren’t just physical. In this state he was bigger, louder, hairier, teethier – more aggressive. His desire for blood was intense but ever since he met you, so was this raw lust. As a rational man with a sense of morals, this perverse craving ashamed him, yet the beast inside did not care for his customs. It wanted to possess you, every ounce of you, thoroughly. To mate with you in a way that wasn’t meant for humans. Being around you in this condition would break the mental leash he chains this deviant with.

Although every time he alters, he feels it loosening. There was something wrong with him – his father and grandfather were able to restrain the beast from rampaging throughout town. But he, on the other hand, had been consuming the town as his sole hunting grounds for some months now. Which is why the “dog beast,” once a mere legend mentioned every decade, was printed in previous months paper.  

It is as if the creature wishes to mock him and the slipping control.

Drenched in sweat and agony, he knew the transformation was almost complete when he suddenly heard a small noise. He immediately spun around and met the petrified eyes of his uncle.

Neither of the men spoke – both gaping at each other with pure, unfiltered fear. The chill of the night establishes its presence in the worst moment possible. Taehyung was afraid for reasons too many, none he could not lucidly list. He recalls what occurred the last time the beast was enraged by someone and he desperately wishes not to hurt anyone ever again in this form.  

Opposite from him stood his uncle, wondering just one thought out of an infinite. How does a normal man, one untouched by the knowledge of this being, react in this situation?

A normal man would run. A normal man would cower in fear. A normal man would beg for his life. But he, the rightful heir to the manor, declined to let this young bastard trample him in such a way. It wasn’t that his uncle was a man without fear. And it wasn’t that he held great courage either, but rather, the very oxygen that burned through him was fueled purely by his stubbornness. He has spent the majority of his life trying to crush first his brother and now his nephew, so when this chance has presented itself so deliciously, he refuses to let it slip through his fingers.

“Y…” His voice was hoarse, throat achingly dry, “What are you?”

Taehyung stands there quietly, unresponsive to the question. Although he was the larger one, he felt so scared and so small. No one had ever spoken to him in this form which is why he was unsure of what to do. He had been a fool, he thought if he could sleep in your arms and you held him tight, he would be able to stop himself from altering tonight.

But now he understood, there was nothing that could.

“You killed those men.” His uncle continues, all on his own. As if he’s suddenly reached enlightenment.

“You do not…understand…” Taehyung shakes his head like a child about to be punished. He didn’t mean to kill anyone. He’s never hurt someone in his whole life. That night, on the previous full moon, it all occurred without any of his own authority.

Taehyung was a despicable man. Wan had hurt you, and he saw it. But rather than step in and intervene – rather than protect you from that scum – he instead just stood by and watched it transpire. No matter how many times he thinks back to it, no matter how often he racks his brain for an answer, he still does not understand why he did nothing. Perhaps he was paralyzed from his own traumas and forced himself to retain his composure – however the beast did not care for his pathetic reasons. It taunted him the whole week leading up to the full moon. Hurt him with insults he knew he merited.

“You’re weak.” It growled, “Weak and puny. I shall protect her myself.”

And then, for the very first time, Taehyung took the life of another human being without any cognizance. What’s worse is that he enjoyed it. That thought alone petrifies him.

“No, I do not understand you. And I do not wish to.”

“Please…” Taehyung begged as he held out his deformed hand to plead with the elder. Did this man think Taehyung desired this life? Did he think he desired this hundred year old curse - originating from a place long before his time - that was forced upon him and on any man who dared to reign over Kim manor. Perhaps despicable, but Taehyung was still softhearted. The reason why he tried so hard to keep his title as Lord was so that no one else would further suffer this abomination, even if it concerned his bastard uncle. 

And it’s also the reason he made peace with dying alone, without a bride and without children. He was meant to stand alone. That is...until he met you.

“How dare you. How dare you grovel to me, you servant of the devil.” The disgust and venom in his uncle’s tone made him recoil.

“No-” It was only a matter of time before the beast consumed him whole and he was certain, like before, it would not spare any mercy. The adversity is something Taehyung direly yearns not to repeat.

“I shall bring the priest and the commissioner. I shall tell them what you did. You shall be brought to justice for what you did to those men. You shall suffer in hell when they burn you at the stake!”

“Please- uncle- please listen TO ME-” He clasped his claws against his mouth when his voice became utterly inhumane. The beast was crawling out of his throat and his sanity was slipping. No longer was he able to see what was in front of him and once again he began to fade, like he did all those times before.

“Run!”

Taehyung with the last of his conscious tried his hardest to warn the man and take a dash for the woods but it was far too late.

The last thing he heard was his uncle’s shrill scream, and then all silence for him.

_

You woke up to a thump.

Or at least you were certain that was what you heard as you sit up on the bed. Your vision was groggy, mind still half asleep as you look in the direction of the sound’s origin. For a minute it was soundless, and then there was another thump. You weren’t sure what it was, but you stood up nonetheless, slowly walking towards the door. Still unaware of your surroundings, you stop in front of the wood, distracted by your own dizziness.

In the tranquility of the room, you caught a noise so faint, you thought perhaps you were still in your nightmare from before. It was immensely faint, but you heard it. The rapid breathing behind the door. Unhurdled by emotions such as caution and reasoning for once, you swung the door open in confusion. And as soon as you did, your own awareness came back to you at full force.

A clothless man stood before you, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. Your breath was stuck in your throat, eyes widening into saucers once you saw the length of his fangs. It took you a full minute realize that it was Lord Kim.

“W…what…” You step back in horror. Perhaps you were still dreaming.

The fear had snuck up around your waist and grabbed you by the throat, leaving you without the ability to move. He gazed at you with eyes that were a bright yellow, yet darker than any man’s you have ever looked into. Your orbs travel down his body as you absorb in his abnormal height, his ripping muscles, his long fingernails and…and his hand.

There was a heart. In his hand, he gripped a fleshy and large organ and you knew it was a heart.

Missing hearts.

“Nooo…please.” You quiver, crying without him ever speaking a word. All signs of alarm were raised in your mind and you don’t even remember what it was for that you came here. Only Seulgi’s words about the dog beast reigned in your ear. The world was spinning as your Lord…as he began to walk towards you. Your life started to flash by your eyes, and you closed them shut tight, so you would no longer have to witness this terror.

“Shhh.” You heard a deep growl before you felt cold and abnormally large fingers on your face. A gasp escapes your throat as he caresses your cheek.

The next thing you knew, you were floating. Your eyes flew open and you saw yourself being carried by him. There was no moment for you to react, as you were subsequently placed upright onto the bed. No longer restrained by his arms, you shifted about in a frenzy.

“Ah…uh…”  

“You are mine.” He states as if it was a fact.

Then he comes over you – wrapping his enormous, dirtied limbs around you as you squeak. He lays his head in your lap and you feel the tears leave your eyes as he yet again resembles your Lord. What you had thought of as just a hallucination from the fog was actually reality. That night, on the previous full moon, you woke up and strolled the grounds to clear your head of Wan. It was then that you saw the most horrid of things – you saw a giant dog shrink into a small human who resembled the Lord.

And you had told yourself lies. Told yourself it wasn’t true and told yourself to forget. But all logic was failing you now as a creature from hell winds down on your very own body. You muffle your cries and fear – too afraid to awaken the beast.

Taehyung laid peacefully in your arms; his mind detached from every other thing that did not concern you. The heart he held in his hand had stopped beating a long time ago, but he could still feel it slipping through his fingers. He is not sure, even as a beast, as to why he takes the hearts of victims. Perhaps it has something to do with how it’s his heart that hurts more than anything else each time he alters.

Well, it did not matter now, he thinks as his perception starts to drift. Nothing mattered at the moment – not the heart, nor his uncle’s body, not even your reaction. For this moment, more than anything, he just wants to rest.

To sleep, in your lap, under this cold, beautiful moonlight.

________

A/N: Okay so I really hate this I apologize. I had intended for it to be longer but well :) October has officially been 2020′s busiest month for me...but I hope you enjoy this garbage lmk what you thought!

[buckybarnesdollface]

Traditions: Chapter 1

Summary:  Bucky has nowhere to go for the holidays, so reader invites him to come home to spend Christmas with her family. Christmas cuteness ensues.      

Warnings: None, just fluff in this chapter, female reader

           “So, what are everyone’s plans for Christmas?” Pepper asked everyone as soon as the debriefing meeting had ended. The team had just gotten back from a mission in South Africa, and were in desperate need of a distraction.

           As expected, Tony and Pepper were spending Christmas with Morgan at their cabin. Clint and Scott were also spending Christmas with their kids, and Peter was spending it with May and MJ. Sam was going back to Harlem to spend the holidays with his parents, and Thor would be in New Asgard with his people. Rhodey was also spending it with his parents, and Bruce was going to Germany to be a key speaker at a science seminar for nuclear physicists. Wanda and Vision were spending their Christmas in London, and Steve and Natasha – still in the honeymoon phase of their new relationship – were headed to Hawaii until the new year.

           “I’ll be heading to Maine to spend Christmas with my family,” I said when everyone looked to me. “My mom would kill me if I didn’t come home for the holidays.”

           “What about you, Buck?” Sam asked, drawing everyone’s attention to the supersoldier at Steve’s side who, up until now, had been very quiet and subdued. He shrugged, his face unreadable.

           “I dunno, I don’t really have plans,” he mumbled. “I’ll probably just hang out here, or maybe head into the city. I always loved Christmas in New York.”

           Tony stood and clapped his hands together. “Excellent, now that everyone’s had a chance to share, why don’t we all get some rest?” he said. “It’s been a long week and I’m sure we’re all exhausted.” He grinned. “Enjoy your holidays, everyone, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

           Pepper set a hand on my arm as I was gathering up the paperwork from the meeting. “You did good, kid,” she told me, and I beamed shyly. As Pepper’s assistant I was often in the loop of what was going on with the team, but this was the first mission that she’d given me the reins and I had been so nervous. Hearing her praise had my chest swelling.

           “Thank you, Pepper,” I breathed. “Really, it means so much.”

           She gave me a warm smile. “You’re officially part of the team, kiddo,” she murmured. “Have a good Christmas. I’ll see you in the new year.”

           “Merry Christmas, Pepper.”

           As Pepper caught up with Tony, I found my eyes scanning the conference room for a certain dark-haired supersoldier. He was just ducking out the door when I spotted him, and I quickly tucked the papers under my arm before following him.

           “Bucky!” I called, and he turned and stopped, waiting for me to catch up. He gave me a small smile when I did.

           “What’s up, doll?” he asked. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes and his face drawn. Though his lips were still curved in a friendly smile his eyes were sad, and I frowned, fighting the urge to pull him tight to me and hug him. Instead, I shook my head.

           “Are you really gonna stay here over Christmas?” I asked him, and he shrugged.

           “Why not?”

           I pursed my lips. “Because you’ll be alone,” I protested, and Bucky’s friendly expression faltered. Finally, he sighed and shook his head.

           “What choice do I have, (Y/N)?” he said. “I have no family to spend it with, and all my friends have plans with their own families and loved ones. That leaves just me.” Again, he shrugged. “I’m used to being alone, I’ll be fine.”

           Bucky was trying hard to seem carefree about it, and to most people it probably would have worked. But since becoming Pepper’s assistant eight months ago, I had developed friendships with everyone on the team, especially Steve and Bucky. So I could see the pain in the set of Bucky’s shoulders and in the depths of his eyes even if his expression and voice didn’t show it. Hesitantly, I reached out to set a hand on Bucky’s arm. He hadn’t yet changed out of his tactical gear and the fabric of his jacket was stiff under my palm.

           “No one should be alone on Christmas,” I said softly. “You have plenty of friends who wouldn’t mind you joining them for the holiday.”

           Bucky snorted. “Steve offered for me to go to Hawaii with him and Nat,” he said, “but I declined. I didn’t think being a third wheel would be a great way to spend Christmas.”

           “I didn’t mean Steve.”

           “What?” I watched as realization dawned across Bucky’s features. “(Y/N), I couldn’t… This is your time with your family, I can’t intrude on that. Besides, I can’t imagine they’d be okay with having me there…”

           But I was shaking my head, having already made up my mind. “Don’t be ridiculous, they’ll be happy to have you. I’ll call my mom tonight to let her know to get one more bedroom ready.” I grinned. “Now go get some rest and pack your things, we leave tomorrow at noon.”

           Before Bucky had time to argue, I headed towards mine and Pepper’s offices to dispense of the paperwork under my arm. This was certainly going to be an interesting Christmas, to say the least.

                     As I had expected, my mom was happy to have Bucky there for Christmas once I explained the situation to her. So, that was how him and I found ourselves in first class seats on a flight to Bangor, courtesy of Tony and Pepper. Tony had offered to let us take a quinjet, but when we both declined, he insisted to at least pay for our tickets.

           Bucky was silent most of the flight, and I could tell he was nervous. Biting my lip, I nudged my knee with his.

           “You keep shaking your leg like that and you’re gonna have the whole plane shaking,” I teased. A flush crept up his neck to his face and his leg stopped abruptly.

           “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just…People are staring.”

           I had been well-aware of the looks we’d gotten as soon as we boarded the plane. Bucky tended to draw attention wherever he went – Even if he weren’t Bucky Barnes, his towering six-foot-two frame of thick muscle and his strikingly handsome face were hard to ignore. He had hidden his vibranium arm underneath a black bomber jacket and leather gloves, and he had recently cut his long hair short, but it seemed everyone still knew who he was.

           “You’re an Avenger,” I said with a shrug. “Of course they’re staring.”

           “I’m the Winter Soldier,” he corrected sullenly. “They all know what I’ve done. They’re afraid of me.”

           Pursing my lips, I reached over to take his flesh hand into mine. “Don’t focus on everyone else,” I told him, ignoring the surprise in his eyes when my fingers laced through his. “Focus on the amazing Christmas vacation we’re going to have. Focus on Christmas lights and building snowmen and cheesy Christmas music on the radio.”

           Bucky let out a short huff of a laugh, but some of the tension had evaporated from his features. “Sounds like the plot for one of those silly Christmas movies that every channel on television plays all through December,” he said, and I flashed him a grin.

           “You haven’t met my family. When it comes to Christmas, we’re as cheesy as they get.”

           As I explained to Bucky what to expect when we got to my parents’ place, the stress visibly dissipated from his body, until he was laughing at the prospect of witnessing my father wearing a Santa hat and distributing presents from under the tree on Christmas morning.

           Bucky’s laugh drew the attention of a few people around us, and before he could realize that people were once again staring, I shot them a glare that could have frozen hell. They shrank back in their seats and Bucky and I continued our conversation, him none the wiser to what had just happened.

                     My parents were waiting for us when we got off the plane in Bangor. As soon as my mother caught sight of me, she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug.

           “(Y/N), I’m so glad you’re home,” she exclaimed. “Your brother and sister are already at the house; they’ll be so glad to see you.”

           “I missed you too, Mom,” I chuckled, and then I turned to embrace my dad.

           “Hey, kid,” he said. “How was your flight?”

           “Good.” I shrugged. “Tony upgraded us to first class, so that was nice.” I turned to find that Bucky had retrieved our luggage from the baggage claim and was now standing awkwardly off to one side. Shaking my head, I went over and grabbed him by the arm to pull him into the group. “Mom, Dad, this is Bucky Barnes,” I introduced. “Bucky, these are my parents.”

           Bucky shook each of their hands, making sure to use his flesh hand. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. (Y/L/N),” he murmured. “And thank you so much for having me. I know it was very last-minute, and I really appreciate it.”

           “It’s our pleasure, really. The more the merrier,” my mom said cheerfully. “And please, call us John and Karey.”

           Bucky nodded shyly, and then once again grabbed our luggage. I reached for my suitcase, but Bucky shook his head as he pulled it out of my reach. “I’ve got it,” he insisted, and I frowned.

           “But it’s heavy –”

           “Maybe for you.” Bucky winked and then lifted my suitcase above his waist as if it weighed no more than a purse. I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as the Bucky I knew peeked through his anxious exterior.

           “Show-off,” I muttered.

           “Don’t be sour, doll,” Bucky said over his shoulder as he followed my parents out to the parking lot. “Jealousy isn’t becoming.”

           I wanted to respond to his comment with something sarcastic or witty, but was too happy seeing him at ease that I decided against it and instead followed him and my parents to their truck.

           The drive home was spent catching up with my parents; I hadn’t seen them since June, and my mom had so much to fill me in on. Bucky sat next to me in the backseat, and although he was politely listening to my mother ramble on about my uncle’s new puppy, I could tell he felt out of place. He spent a lot of time looking out the window in silence, and although I wanted to reach across the seat to take his hand, I knew that would likely only make him more uncomfortable and invite awkward questions from my parents.

           “So, Bucky,” my dad said suddenly, and Bucky’s head snapped up, shocked to have been addressed directly. “How do you usually spend the holidays?”

           Bucky’s face fell for only a split second before he composed himself again and his lips quirked up the tiniest bit at one corner. “Well, sir, if I’m being honest it’s been awhile since I’ve celebrated Christmas,” he admitted ruefully, and I could see my dad’s brow furrow in the rearview mirror. Before he could open his mouth and make this situation any more uncomfortable, I spoke.

           “We’ll make sure this is one to remember, then,” I said to Bucky with a warm smile, in which he returned with his own small smile.

           As we turned down the lane and drove up to the house, I couldn’t help but feel excited. As much as I loved New York and loved my job at the Avengers compound, I was a small-town girl at heart and I had missed the farm that I’d grown up on.

           It hadn’t changed at all in my twenty-six years of life; the same big white farmhouse with the green shutters and the oak tree out front, the large yard, and the old red barn that at one time held horses but was now just used to store tractor parts. It had just snowed the night before, and everything was covered in a thin blanket of sparkling white. My parents had already put up most of the outdoor lights, but I saw that they had saved the big red pine. A smile lit up my face.

           “Are we decorating the pine today?” I asked excitedly, and my mom grinned.

           “You didn’t think we’d do it without you, did you?” she asked as we got out of the truck. Bucky gave me a questioning look and I grinned.

           “We’ve decorated this tree as a family since we were little kids,” I explained. “Our ceilings were never high enough to have an enormous tree so we’d always decorate this one to be as stunning as the one inside.”

           “That’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard,” Bucky chuckled, and I couldn’t help the blush that warmed my cheeks. Ducking my head, I motioned towards the house.

           “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to my brother and sister and give you a tour.”

           I could tell as soon as my brother saw Bucky walk through the door that he was about to burst with excitement and a million questions – He had been obsessed with the Avengers long before I had become Pepper’s assistant. Remembering how uncomfortable Bucky had been at my dad’s unintentionally invasive questions, I shot Jeremy a look that told him to keep his mouth shut and give Bucky space.

           To my relief, both Jeremy and Katie were polite and friendly when I introduced Bucky to them. I could see some of the tension ease out of his shoulders now that he had met my family and they’d accepted him, and I set a hand briefly on his arm.

           “I’ll give you a tour of the house and then show you the room you’ll be staying in,” I told him, and he nodded before following me out of the foyer.

           “This is my room,” I told him after we’d gone through the first floor and climbed the stairs. I pushed open the door and gestured for him to come in after he hesitated. The room hadn’t changed since I moved out at eighteen to go to college; originally my parents had planned to turn it into an office but they’d never gotten around to it, and so the Zac Efron posters and constellation-patterned bedsheets still remained.

           Bucky picked up a stuffed Garfield off my desk and his lips tugged up into a smirk. “Cute,” he said, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

           “Alright, out of here before you start picking apart everything in here,” I said, ushering Bucky to the door. He laughed, turning to grin at me.

           “I wasn’t making fun of you, doll,” he chuckled. “I really did think it was cute. I think I would have liked to know the (Y/N) that liked stuffed animals and had posters of half-naked men on her walls.”

           I snorted and shoved him playfully away from my room. “Yeah, well, you stick around here long enough and you’ll probably get to see her,” I told him wryly. “I tend to revert back to her when I’m home for any amount of time.”

           Bucky’s answering smile was warm, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m looking forward to it,” he murmured, no hint of teasing left in his voice, and for some reason it had my cheeks hot and my stomach fluttering. After an awkward silence, I opened the door to the bedroom next to mine.

           “This is where you’ll be sleeping,” I said, clearing my throat. “That way if you need anything during the night…” I trailed off, but the look on Bucky’s face told me that he knew I was referring to his nightmares. He offered me a small smile.

           “It’s great, (Y/N), really.” He gave me a shy look. “Thank you for all of this. I would have been at the compound by myself watching Christmas movies on TV if it weren’t for you.”

           “Well we couldn’t have that, now, could we?” I teased half-heartedly, but the atmosphere in the room had changed. The air between us was heavy with a feeling I couldn’t quite place my finger on; it was certainly not something I had felt around him before. I had always felt comfortable around Bucky, from the moment we met – I could be myself around him, and he himself around me. But now I felt myself struggling to find words to say and my stomach was in a constant flutter.

           Luckily, the awkwardness was shattered by Katie calling up the stairs that they were going to decorate the pine tree whether Bucky and I were ready or not. Shooting each other sheepish grins, we both made to head to the staircase at the same time and bumped into each other in the door frame. Bucky stepped back.

           “Ladies first,” he said graciously, and I blushed as I ducked past him.

                     “A little higher,” my mom said as my dad and Jeremy were on ladders stringing lights around the top of the pine tree. Katie and I were at the bottom, each trying to keep one of the ladders steady, as my mom directed the guys on where to hang the lights. Bucky was off to one side, watching us with a slightly amused expression.

           “(Y/N), hold the ladder still, would ya?” my dad grumbled and I rolled my eyes dramatically. I could hear Katie snickering from the other side of the tree.

           “It looks good enough, Mom,” Jeremy groaned, after my mom had told him to hang the lights from a different branch. “You won’t be able to tell in the dark which branch they’re hanging from anyway.”

           Another argument about light placement ensued, and I couldn’t help but smile; it wasn’t tradition if at least four arguments didn’t take place while we were putting up the lights. After a bit more arguing and my dad and Jeremy doing some rearranging among heavy sighs, the lights were finally strung to my mother’s satisfaction.

           “What about the star?” my mom asked as the men climbed down the ladders. I pulled the big silver star out of the tote we stored the lights in and turned to Bucky with a grin.

           “I think we should let Bucky do it,” I said, and a smile brightened my mom’s face.

           “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

           I carried the star over and handed it to Bucky. He looked uncertain, like he wanted to argue against it, but I was already nudging him towards the tree. His cheeks pink, he climbed the ladder after a nod of encouragement from me, and gracefully set the star atop the highest bough of the tree.

           After Bucky had climbed down the ladder and taken position at my side, my dad pulled the remote for the timer from his pocket, pressing a button and turning the lights on. I had seen it over a dozen times now, but it still filled me with warmth and happiness every time and I couldn’t help but smile like a little kid.

           “Alright, it’s done and I’m cold,” Jeremy said. “Let’s go inside and get some food.”

           “Can’t you just enjoy it for a minute?” my mom replied.

           “It’s snowing!” Katie suddenly exclaimed, and we all looked up to the sky. It was indeed snowing, snowflakes falling from the sky softly and catching in the light from the tree. I turned to look at Bucky, who had his own childlike grin on his face.

           “It’s beautiful,” he breathed, stretching out his left arm to catch a few snowflakes on his leather-gloved hand. The vibranium underneath the leather was cool, preserving the snowflakes long enough to inspect their intricate designs.

           “We might get a white Christmas for the first time in years,” I said in excitement, and Bucky grinned.

           “Y’know, there was a time when we always had a white Christmas,” he chuckled, and I scrunched my nose at him.

           “Yeah, yeah; c’mon, old man,” I teased, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the house where the others were already headed. “It’s getting cold and dark; let’s go in where it’s warm and make some hot cocoa.”

           My mom had already turned the kettle on by the time we’d gotten inside and stripped off our jackets and boots, and it wasn’t long before we’d all settled down in the living room with steaming mugs of hot cocoa with marshmallows. Bucky and I had settled onto the loveseat as my dad turned on a hockey game.

           “You a hockey fan, Bucky?” my dad asked, and Bucky shrugged.

           “I like it,” he replied. “Haven’t really had much time to follow sports for years now, but baseball was always more my sport; that and boxing.” He grinned. “Steve and I did go see the Rangers play the Maple Leafs at Madison Square Garden for one of the Stanley Cup Final games, though.”

           My dad’s eyebrows shot up. “The Rangers haven’t played the Leafs in the finals since…”

           “Since 1940,” Bucky finished, a rueful smile on his face. “I definitely dated myself with that one, didn’t I? Sometimes I forget that people don’t realize I’m actually almost one hundred and four years old.”

           “(Y/N) told us how old you and Steve were,” my dad explained. “It’s just hard to remember, considering you look barely over thirty.”

           Bucky’s lips twitched. “Spending most of your life in a cryo chamber does wonders for your complexion,” he said wryly, and although his tone was teasing his eyes told a different story. I sat up straighter, tucking my legs under myself, and cleared my throat.

           “Has anyone heard if Uncle Joe is coming up for Christmas this year?” I asked, changing the subject and successfully diverting everyone’s focus away from Bucky. He shot me a grateful look to which I returned with a warm smile, hoping that I wouldn’t have to keep jumping in to stop my family from making Bucky uncomfortable all through Christmas.

                     “(Y/N), you’re twenty-six years old; I shouldn’t have to tell you not to eat raw cookie dough!” my mom scolded as I dipped my finger into the bowl of dough she had whipped up for molasses cookies and licked it clean, savouring the spicy-sweet flavour of it. I grinned sheepishly at my glaring mother.

           “If I get salmonella then it’s totally worth it; this tastes amazing, Mom,” I told her, and she rolled her eyes as she mixed together the pumpkin pie filling.

           “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

           I shrugged. “Well, I tried.” Digging a spoon out of the drawer, I dipped it into the bowl and then held the spoonful of dough out to Bucky. “You have to try this, Buck, it’s so good.”

           “(Y/N)!” my mom hissed. “It’s bad enough if you make yourself sick, but I’m not going to let you make our guest sick as well.”

           “Don’t worry, ma’am,” Bucky said, eyes sparkling as he took the spoon from me. “One good thing about being superhuman is that I don’t get sick.” He stuck the spoon in his mouth and his lips curved into a grin. “That’s gotta be the best damn cookie dough I’ve ever tasted.”

           “See?” I exclaimed. “I told you so.”

           My mom muttered something about the two of us being “peas in a pod,” and Bucky and I laughed as we began to spoon the dough onto a cookie sheet. In the past twelve hours Bucky had relaxed considerably, bonding over hockey with my dad and brother, helping my sister wrap the gifts she got me so I wouldn’t see what they were, and helping my mom with the Christmas baking. It warmed my heart to see him fitting in with my family, and reinforced my belief that inviting him to come home with me had been the right decision.

           After an afternoon baking and an evening of Christmas movies – specifically Elf, How the Grinch Stole Christmas, and Christmas Vacation – everyone agreed that we were going to retire early for the night. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and as I had already warned Bucky, the next two days were going to be very busy and there wouldn’t be much time for rest.

           Sometime in the middle of the night, though, I woke with my throat parched and cursed to myself when a glance at the nightstand told me I had forgotten to bring up a glass of water with me when I’d gone to bed. My body had grown used to the self-adjusting climatizer at the compound, and so the dry air caused by the wood furnace in the basement had my throat aching.

           With a sigh, I pushed off my blankets and slid out of bed, making my way down the creaky old staircase as quietly as possible so as to not wake up anyone else in the house.

           In the kitchen I poured myself a glass of water, and the cold liquid instantly soothed my parched throat as I swallowed. The clock on the stove said 2:19; I should have been in bed, but I was awake now and instead chose to sit in the living room in the comforting lights of the tree and the fireplace until I felt tired again.

           I was surprised to find that Bucky was already doing just that. He glanced up as I walked in, and although he looked sheepish at having been caught, he didn’t look surprised to see me; his supersoldier hearing would have alerted him I was awake as soon as I’d stepped out of bed.

           “Bucky,” I breathed. “I came down to get some water; I didn’t expect anyone else to be up right now.”

           “Couldn’t sleep,” he replied with a half-shrug, and I frowned. I came over to sit on the opposite end of the couch, tucking my legs underneath me and nursing my glass of water. I bit my lip.

           “Nightmares?” I asked hesitantly, and he gave me a sad smile and shook his head.

           “Not this time.” He paused before continuing, his gaze drifting to the fireplace. A cozy little fire was burning brightly, making me wonder how long he had been awake – The fire should have been dying embers by now. “I’ve just…got a lot on my mind,” he finally said, eyes still fixed on the flickering flames. I shifted, fingers twitching to reach out to him but deciding against it.

           “Anything you want to talk about?”

           I watched Bucky’s jaw tighten, and then he reached up his flesh hand to run it through his hair before meeting my eyes with what almost seemed like embarrassment.

           “Your family has been so kind,” he started, “and I am incredibly grateful that you asked me to come and spend Christmas here. But…” He trailed off, his eyes dropping to his lap. “Being around your family and seeing how happy you all are and how much you love each other…I can’t help but miss my own family.”

           I had never once in the time I’ve known Bucky hear him speak about his family. He would talk about his early days with Steve, but had never mentioned his parents or siblings, at least not around me. I knew his parents’ names were George and Winnifred, and that he had two sisters named Rebecca and Alice and two brothers named Thomas and David, but only because Steve had told me about them once.

           And seeing the look on Bucky’s face, and hearing the waver in his voice, I now knew why he hadn’t ever spoken of them before. It hurt him to speak of them, even all these decades later. His eyes were dry, but the pain and sadness they held was enough to have a lump forming in the back of my own throat.

           “Christmas was always a big deal to us,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “We didn’t have a lot of money – It was especially hard in the thirties, during the Depression. But Ma and Pa always made it special for us anyway. We’d get a tree and decorate it with homemade ornaments, and on Christmas Eve every year Pa would read us A Christmas Carol; it was tradition. Then we’d wake up Christmas morning and open presents – Ma made us each a new sweater every year – and we’d always get an orange and some chocolate in our stockings, every year.” Bucky grinned ruefully. “It seems silly now ‘cause we eat oranges and chocolate all year ‘round, but back when money was scarce finding those things in your stocking was like finding gold.”

           Bucky was wrapped up in his nostalgia, but his eyes were still sad. I gave him a small smile. “It sounds nice,” I murmured, and he nodded.

           “It was. We may not have had a lot of money, but we had each other.” His eyes fell back to his lap. “Our last real Christmas was in 1940. Christmas in ’41 was a write-off because the U.S. had just joined the war, and I know it broke my ma’s heart when I enlisted but she understood why I did it.”

           “So…1940 was the last time you celebrated Christmas?” My eyes were wide as I regarded Bucky.

           “Guess so,” he chuckled humourlessly. “No one really felt like celebrating in ’41, and it’s hard to celebrate when you’re deep in enemy territory during a world war. After that I spent the next seventy Christmases in cryo, one in Bucharest by myself when I was a war criminal, one in cryo in Wakanda, another in Wakanda that I didn’t bother celebrating, and then after the snap, well…” He trailed off and shrugged. “This is the first Christmas since 1940 that I really have the chance to properly celebrate.”

           It broke my heart that so many of Bucky’s Christmases were taken from him. He’d been through more in his lifetime than likely anyone else on this planet, and yet he managed to stay so strong. Even now, as sad as he was, his eyes remained dry. His jaw was still tight, though, and I bit my lip before setting my glass of water on the coffee table and reaching out a rest a hand on his arm.

           “If I could give you even one more Christmas with your family, Buck, I would,” I murmured softly. Hell, I would give him anything right now if it would take away his sadness. “What I can give you, though,” I continued, “is a Christmas with a family that will do their best to make you feel like you’re one of their own.” I gave him a small smile. “My family adores you, Buck; I know you miss your family and no one will ever replace them, but you can have more than one family. You of course have the team, but you also have my family, and…and me, if you need it.”

           The atmosphere in the room had changed; sadness no longer lingered in the air, replaced with something unfamiliar that felt charged with electricity. I was suddenly very aware of how hot Bucky’s skin was under my hand, and in the light of the fireplace and the Christmas lights his sharp cheekbones and strong jawline were even more prominent. I tried to divert my gaze, my cheeks hot, but Bucky had my eyes locked in his.

           “(Y/N)…” he murmured, and my heart started to race.

           “Yes?” I squeaked.

           “I…” He swallowed hard, and then shook his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Thank you. For all of this. You have no idea how much it means to me to be here.”

           The electric feeling in the air disappeared and I could focus again. I smiled and squeezed his arm before retracting my hand. “I’m glad you’re here,” I told him, and his face softened.

           “Sit with me for a bit?” he asked. “That is, if you aren’t too tired –”

           “I’d love to,” I assured him, and Bucky’s smile was dazzling. I may not be able to give him a Christmas with his family, but I would be damned sure to do everything I could to give him the best Christmas possible.

[yungidreamer]

Heart in the Sea

The third oneshot in my Kinktober fantasy series

Summary: A selkie will always feel the call of the sea, but can she choose between the sweet and big hearted Seungmin and her true home when their paths cross.

Word count: 5.6k

Content warnings: The longing and bitter sweetness of love that is split between two worlds. A story of love and understanding that lasts a lifetime.

Suggested music: In the Distance by Tony Anderson and When You Fall Christian Reindl and When You Love Someone by Day6

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.

The nearly full moon hung high in the sky, sparkling brightly off the surface of the calm sea. She came ashore in her familiar cove, scooting her torpedo-shaped body up the soft sand and through the surf until the tide only lapped at her as it reached it’s farthest distance up the beach. With a sigh she sloughed off her skin, transforming into the beautiful woman she could change into only these three days around the full moon.

Tucking her skin under her arm, she scurried up the soft sand of the beach to the hidden little cave she knew was there. She pushed aside the curtain of vines and tucked her skin inside at the same she pulled out the human clothes she kept there for when she returned. Changing into them, she made sure the little cave was hidden again before setting off down the beach to enjoy her time here on land.

Not far down the beach was a pier where humans tended to gather. They had built restaurants, stores, and even a dive shop over the last decade. She and the others didn’t mind it. It was actually sort of nice to have them around, especially since they mostly stayed around the area that surrounded their pier. Their area just to the north was a designated refuge for wildlife which meant they were mostly left alone but were still near enough to take a swim with people when the mood struck them. The divers could be fun and, honestly, it was hilarious to imagine how many pictures there were out there of her looking adorable with her big black eyes and pert whiskers, waving at another divers go-pro.

She walked down the beach until she could hear the hum of the people mixed with that slight buzz their electric lights gave off that none of them seemed to notice. No one took note of her as she walked through the sparse crowd, heading to the stairs that lead up to the raised pier. It had a beautiful view of her ocean and often there were couples there, standing together watching the beauty of her sea.

Her bare feet felt cold on the damp wooden planks. It was cold, but not yet cold enough to make her wear shoes. They were something she had never really gotten used to. Too constricting and they kept her from feeling the beach, the sea. In winter she bowed to necessity but for now, when it was just that little overlap in the year when summer blended into fall, she would not yet.

Taking a seat on a bench on one side, she quietly watched the people chatting and laughing together. A few older men stood, poles in hand, fishing as they leaned on the wooden rails. A couple passed by, fingers entwined as they spoke quietly together. People seem so happy when they are coupled together, she thought as she watched them. Pairing off wasn’t really something her people did but part of her wondered what it might be like. If there was another like her in her colony, one who could shed their skin and walk in both worlds, perhaps she would pursue such things but, alas, she was the only one.

“Are you waiting for someone?” A voice startled her from her reverie and she turned to find a tall young human male standing very near to her.

“No,” she replied, taking a moment to really look at him. His hair was a light brown, neatly cut to a feathery softness around his ears and neck. It was slightly messy, having been mussed by the winds that were always blowing along the shore. He had dark brown eyes she could only describe as kind as they sparkled in the low light. He was dressed in a white button up shirt with a pale blue sweater vest over it, and jeans of a similar shade. It reminded her of summer mornings, full of the promise of warmth but still cool and fresh as the morning mist began to fade away.

“Would you mind hanging out with me?” He asked, stepping forward but still not taking a seat yet. “I’m not here with anyone either.”

“If you’d like,” she shrugged but scooted closer to one side of the bench. 

“So do you live somewhere near here?” He was fishing for something to talk about.

“Not too far,” she admitted.

“Is that why you’ve come out here so late?” He asked, looking out at the other people rather than at her as he spoke.

“I like this place,” she shrugged, giving a half smile. “It has a lovely view of the sea and it’s not too loud. Not too many people.”

“You like the sea then?” He nodded.

“It’s a part of me,” she spoke honestly, but guessed that the meaning probably escaped the boy beside her.

“I feel like that about music,” he confessed, his face breaking into a joyful grin. “Writing music and singing is just a part of me. I’m not sure who I would be without it.”

“It must be nice to have that kind of passion about something,” she said after a moment's pause. “What sort of music do you do?”

“I like ballads,” he explained shyly. “Love songs and acoustic things.”

“People seem to like things about love,” she remarked, looking at all of the couples around them.

“Love can be wonderful,” He laughed. “It can also hurt like hell, but when you find the one, it's all worth it, you know?”

“Not really,” she admitted, giving him a quizzical look. “I don’t really understand love very well.”

“Haven’t you ever listened to love songs?” He sounded surprised.

“No, not really,” she shrugged and turned her eyes back to the sea.

“Will you be here tomorrow?” He suddenly asked.

“Yes,” she nodded, she had another couple of days on the shore. 

“Can I meet you here tomorrow after school?” His voice was filled with excitement and she couldn’t see the harm. She nodded and he seemed satisfied, standing up with a bright expression on his face. “I should go home, but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, then I can teach you about love.”

“Alright,” She gave him a nod and watched as he started to walk away.

“I’m Seungmin by the way,” He said before he got too far away. She only waved in response watching him go.

Seungmin spent the whole day thinking about seeing her again. He went to class with only half of his mind on his courses as he thought about the mysterious girl he saw at the beach. He had to admit to the possibility she wouldn’t be waiting for him, or that she wouldn’t care to hang out with him even if she was. It was possible, but something about her made it worth trying. When classes were done, he ran home, grabbed his portable keyboard and headed for the beach with a happy spring to his step.

He found her there, sitting on a rock towards one side of the beach that stretched out in front of the line of shops that surrounded the pier. She sat alone, her knees pulled up to her chest as she looked out at the water. There was something...separate about her. She didn’t seem to fit in with anyone else there and it didn’t seem to bother her that it was true. That aloof, mysterious exterior just made him want to know what there was underneath. He wanted the chance to plumb her depths and explore her inscrutable soul.

“Hi,” Seungmin said as he took a seat on the rock next to hers.

“Hello,” she looked at him with warm eyes. “I wondered if you would actually come today.”

“Of course,” he laughed, giving her a wide and joyful smile. “I have something I wanted to show you.” He pulled out his keyboard and balanced it on his lap. Laying her head on her knees, she watched him flip some switches and make some adjustments before clearing his throat and bringing forth the first few notes from the keyboard on his lap.

“It was a really hard day today. My heart aches for you, the only thing I can do for you, is to be next to you, I'm sorry.” His voice was sweet and melodic as he sang. It had a warmth and intensity that spoke to her soul. Yesterday he had said he loved music and she could hear it in his voice. He was good at it and equally skilled at drawing the notes from the mechanical thing in his lap.

“When you love someone so much that it overflows, it's so amazing because this is how it is. I hope I can be a little helpful at least. I hope I can be your resting place. I'll try to make you feel at peace whenever you think of me during your busy days.

“You're such a soft-hearted person, every time you are silently in pain, even if I have to give my all, I want to make you smile again…” 

They sat together for an hour as he sang some of his favorite love songs; the sad ones and the happy ones, the longing ones and the silly ones. She was sure that he could feel them in his bones as he sang them for her, giving her just a little window on what love meant, at least to him. It seemed selfless, joyful, and sweet, though perhaps that was really just him.

“Thank you,” she said as he took the keyboard off his lap, slipping it back into the bag he had brought with him. “Your voice is beautiful. Sonorous and soulful. It reminds me of the whales.”

“I haven’t ever been compared to a whale,” he laughed. “But thank you.”

“I suppose it is what I think of when I think of beautiful music,” she shrugged, blushing slightly. “I meant it as a compliment at least.”

“Whales are amazing,” he agreed. “We learned about them in school. I’d like to see one in person someday.”

“They are very pretty,” she nodded.

“Have you seen one before?” He asked with excitement.

“A few,” she replied. “But there aren’t that many left.”

“Yeah, we hunted a lot of them nearly to extinction,” Seungmin sighed.

“Humans seem to like killing things,” she observed, thinking of what she knew about people hunting seals like her. 

“Some do,” he admitted. “I’d rather take pictures of them than kill them. I think sometimes it’s harder to get a good photo of something than it is to hunt it.”

“At least everything involved gets a second chance at it when you shoot with a camera rather than with a gun.” She concurred with good humor. They whiled away the hours together on the beach until he had to go home for dinner.

“Will you be here tomorrow?” He asked as he got up to leave.

“Yes,” she nodded. “But then I’ll be gone for a while.”

“I’ll come back tomorrow then,” he promised. 

And he did. When they parted that last day he asked when she would come back. Soon she promised, around the next full moon. So long, he wondered sadly to himself as he rode the bus home that evening, so long to have to wait to see her again.

During the month that he waited for her to return, he still went to the beach most days, just to check and to explore the shore nearby. He spent a few days just wandering up and down that section of beach that was near the pier and it’s shops. There were natural barriers to either side with rocky outcrops reaching into the ocean except at low tide. Really, the area was more a massive cove, it just happened to be so wide it wasn’t terribly noticeable. 

Over the second week, he began to explore beyond the rocks. One side extended into a long rocky beach filled with rocks that had been washed to smooth roundness. As the water washed ashore, it rushed through the rocks making the most wonderful whooshing sound. It was so calming, so rhythmic. I wonder if I could write something that would capture that feeling, he thought as he sat on an outcropping a slight distance from where the water swept in against the shore.

The week after that he went the opposite direction. At low tide he set out, following along the rocky, narrow beach until he found himself in a small horseshoe shaped cove surrounded by high rock walls that were nearly vertical. The cove itself was small and sheltered from the wind. The sea lapped in against the soft sand beach with a quiet sloop sloop sloop.

Taking a seat on a dry part of the beach, Seungmin took out his keyboard to try and write a little something. He dabbled with little tunes, a smattering of notes he combined and tested out, trying to make it match the sound his soul was waiting for. He couldn’t stay terribly long or he risked getting stuck there when the tide came in so he packed up to head back. As he threw his bag over his shoulder, something caught his eye out in the water. A little head was bobbing out among the waves. A seal, he wondered, squinting to try and get a better look. Before he could, it disappeared into the waves.

When the moon rose on the night before the full moon, she came out of the water and slipped her skin. It was getting colder and soon she would have to wear shoes, but now she still stubbornly refused. At least not today. Putting something on, she stole along that long half flooded beach to go look for Seungmin. She was sure he would be here. After all, he had been somewhere along her beach, near the pier, or on the rocky shore almost every day since they had first met. It wasn’t that she had gone to search for him, she assured herself. It was that she happened to see him that first day, then she wondered if he had come back, and eventually it just became a habit to look for him, to see if he had come again. Most days he played music. Sometimes it seemed to be something he knew, a whole song he had long since memorized, but often he seemed to be trying to find something in the notes, trying to invent something new. She liked those times. The sounds, while not perfect and not always sweet and melodic, held a creativity and expressiveness that captured her.

“Seungmin!” She said in surprise as she emerged from around the last outcrop to find him already there, waiting on a blanket on the beach.

“Hello,” he smiled at her, standing up and coming to the edge of his blanket. “I had a feeling you might come from over here.”

“How…” her eyes widened and a fear and suspicion trickled into her heart.

“Just a hunch,” he rushed to assure her. “Come here, I have a surprise for you. Do you want something to eat?” He extended a hand to her, inviting her to sit with him on the blanket. She took his hand, gingerly stepping onto the blanket with her damp feet. Seungmin reached into his basket and pulled out a hand towel he offered her to dry them off. Accepting it, she took a seat, drying her calves and feet which helped them to warm faster. She was grateful and offered him a thanks as she passed it back to him. When he took it back he handed her something else.

“What are these?” She asked, holding up the ball of knitted fabric he seemed to have handed her.

“Socks,” he replied. “Here, let me help.” Taking them back, he unfolded them, rolling one up in his hand before lifting one of her feet and slipping it on her up to her knee. He did the same with her other foot before setting it down with a shy smile.

“They are very warm, thank you,” she said gratefully. Seungmin nodded and turned back to the basket, pulling out a small packet of something and handing it to her.

“It’s a tuna sandwich,” he explained. “I thought you might like it.”

“Thank you,” she peeked inside the parchment paper bag to see the sandwich and the scent of fish wafted out to her. It smelled delicious. Usually she just fasted for the days she was with people. It wasn’t that long and had never really been a problem for her, but she had to admit, it wasn’t something she looked forward to. They ate in silence, both just sitting and looking at the sea, watching as the light faded into night. The night was still as the moon rose and the sun set opposite one another.

“Would you play something for me?” She finally asked.

“I’d love to,” he smiled at her. Pulling out his keyboard, he put it on his lap and turned it on. She stretched out on the blanket and closed her eyes, just wanting to listen to him play, to hear that joyful sound mix with the waves and wind of her home. She recognized small portions of the notes he played from the times he had come and played on those more isolated areas of the beach.

“Do you like it?” He asked when he stopped.

“Yes,” she nodded. “I like your music.”

“Thank you,” He let out a joyful laugh. “I wrote it for you.”

“Why?” She looked at him with questioning eyes.

“I like you,” he admitted shyly. “I wanted to have something to give you. Something you could take with you… even when you aren’t…” he let his voice trail off. There was a good chance he was wrong, that he had let his imagination run wild and had spent too many hours listening to the stories his grandmother liked to tell him.

“You know what I am, don’t you.” She said for him. “Are you going to trap me? Steal my skin.”

“I wouldn’t,” he said with absolute seriousness. “I could never do that; I couldn’t steal your life from you like that.”

“Why not?” She was curious, not that she wished he would but what she knew of humans, she would have guessed that most would have without much thought.

“Because love that comes from a selfish place only brings pain to everyone,” he replied. “I’d rather have just a little time with you that is happy than have you always but filled with sadness.”

“You are very special,” she told him, moving to sit beside him.

“No,” he denied, taking one of her hands in his. “I’m nothing special. Perhaps I just know how lucky I am.” He spread her fingers, gently weaving his in between and looking at how the skin between them went just a little higher than a regular human’s did. He sat with her on the beach as late as he could, heading home only after getting a call from his parents wondering where in the world he was. Packing up his keyboard and his basket, he put his shoes on and started to head up the beach to go home.

“Wait, aren’t you going to take the blanket?” She asked, standing beside it in her socks.

“You can keep it for this visit,” he said as he continued to move away. “I’ll take it back when you go.”

“Thank you,” she said loudly enough to make sure he heard her.

“See you tomorrow,” he waved one last time before he walked out of view. She sat down again, turning her gaze to the water to wait the hours until he would return.

One Year Later

“I have something I have to tell you,” Seungmin told her on the last night of her change.

“What is it?” She said, leaning her head on his shoulder as they ate and watched the sea.

“I’m going to be gone for a while,” he confessed. “I’m going to university in another place. I’ll come back when I can, but…”

“I understand,” she told him. “I knew you couldn’t always be here. I couldn’t ask you to give up your life any more than you could steal my skin.”

“Part of me wishes you would,” he admitted, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and burying his face in her hair that smelled like home to him now.

“You’re still here,” she said, bringing both their hands to sit over her heart. “Even when you aren’t here.”

Over the four years he studied, Seungmin came back as often as he could. When he could stay over the period of the full moon, he camped out in their little cove, bringing a tent they could both stay in together, enjoying the fleeting moments they could steal between them. If he was home when it was time for her to live as a seal, he would come and play for her. Sometimes she would come, wriggling her torpedo like body up onto the shore to nap beside him as he played, and others she would just bob in the shallows, playing in the water as she listened.

When he graduated, he came back home, working jobs to make ends meet as he also worked on his music and composing. In only a few years, he was able to make ends meet with his composing alone. His ability to make music that could pull at your heartstrings or make your heart soar brought money, if not renown to him. It was all he could have asked for. 

When he had saved enough he bought a patch of land among the dunes a little down the beach from their cove and built a simple cottage. It was not large but had enough space for him to live in more than comfort, with a room he could compose in and a porch he could sit out and look at the sea anytime he wished. Now when she came ashore, she had a home to come to, a place that was warm year round and that was safe for her to keep her skin. She never needed shoes and never needed to worry that some adventurous soul would happen across it or that someone would steal it and trap her.

Many Years later

“Seungmin,” she said softly as they lay together under the covers. “I don’t think I can go back tomorrow.”

“Why?” He turned on his side to look at her with concern. She had never, in all the years he had known her, not gone back to the sea. “Is something wrong?”

“I wouldn’t say wrong,” she hedged slightly before taking his hand and placed it on her stomach. “I think it’s going to be like you so it would be best if I stayed like this until it comes.”

“A baby?” He breathed, wonder sparkling in his eyes. “How long?”

“I think as long as it takes people to have a baby,” she replied. “So probably half a year or a little more. I know I haven’t stayed that long before and perhaps it would be safe for me to go back, at least for a little while longer…”

“No,” he interjected quickly. “Stay, please. This is your home always, no matter how long and no matter your form, you can always stay here.”

“Thank you,” she smiled up at him. “Are you happy?”

“Ecstatic,” he asserted. “I can’t wait to meet our baby.”

“If it is like you,” she said timidly. “Can you care for it while I am gone?”

“Of course,” he couldn’t help but sound a little offended that she would even ask. “It is my child. I will love it and provide it with anything it needs.”

“I wasn’t even sure if you wanted children,” she pointed out. “We never spoke on the subject and I didn’t know if you would welcome one at all or not.”

“To have a small piece of you always here with me,” he smiled and brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I can’t say how happy it will make me.”

“I’m so happy to know that you want it as much as I do,” she spoke softly, cuddling up to him to go to sleep.

“I love you both,” he replied, pulling her into his arms.

“I can’t stay,” she whispered to the small child in the crib. “But I have never left so much of myself behind before.”

“We’ll be here when you come back,” Seungmin promised, wiping away the warm tear that rolled down her cheek. She stood and hugged him before going to where she kept her skin, stripping her human clothes before walking down to the beach to slip back into her skin and dive beneath the surf.

“Mama!” The little voice shouted from the porch as she saw the seal pop up from the softly lapping tide. “Daddy, mom is home!”

“Let’s go see her,” Seungmin scooped his daughter into his arms and carried her down the path to the beach. She was already on shore by the time they had wound their way through the dunes and sea grass. Her skin sloughed off and draped over one arm, she walked up over the soft sand to them. He greeted her with a kiss, trading their daughter for her skin before the three headed back up the path to their home.

“Sarah, what have you been up to while I’ve been gone?” She asked the little girl.

“I started school!” The little girl shouted.

“That’s wonderful,” she said with a smile.

“Why don’t you go get some of your work to show her?” Seungmin suggested.

“Okay!” The little girl ran upstairs excitedly.

“Welcome home,” He said, giving her a kiss.

“I’m so happy to see you,” she smiled up at him. “I have a surprise.” Placing his hand on her stomach, she smiled up at him.

“Another one?” Seungmin said excitedly. “Does that mean you’ll stay for a while again?”

“Not this time,” Her smile turned slightly sad, but did not disappear.

“Then let’s enjoy the time we have now, while we can.” He pulled her into a hug. 

“Look mama!” Her daughter bounded down the stairs, papers gripped in her arms.

“Let me put something on, then you can show me everything,” She kissed her head before heading to where her clothes were already laid out.

During the long months she could not slip her skin, she stayed near her home, near her beach as much as she could. Seungmin spent many hours watching her swim in the waves or sitting with her as she sunned herself on the shore as their daughter played around them. Then, one day, she was not there alone. She was there with a small, white, fluffy pup.

“He’s beautiful, love,” he told her proudly when he joined her that morning. She fanned out her whiskers proudly, squinting up at him in her best seal smile. 

Still more months passed before their second child was old enough to shift with her and they could both finally come home with Seungmin and her patiently waiting daughter. When the two of them stepped out onto the shore, he was struck by how old his son already looked. Rather than the months old infant he had expected to meet, he looked more like a toddler as he cuddled against his mother, holding her neck as she held him.

“Deacon, Mama!” Sarah shouted, running down to the beach to greet them. “Welcome home!”

“You look so grown up, my love,” she said, kissing her daughter's forehead. 

“I’m in middle school now,” Her daughter beamed at her. “It started last week. School starts earlier now, but I’ll still try to wave good-bye every morning, just in case you can see me in the dark.”

“I can see quite well in the dark,” she assured her. “I will try to be here earlier so that I can see you go.”

“Do you want to see what I am learning?” Her daughter took her mother’s skin and passed her the robe she had brought before doing the same for her younger brother.

“We would love to see what you are learning now,” Her mother nodded.

“What is school like?” Deacon asked, taking his sister’s hand as they walked back up to the cottage.

“It can be fun, but it can also be really boring,” Sarah explained after giving it some thought. “You could always go to school, too.”

“Would I have to stay on land to do that?” Her brother asked.

“Yeah, but it isn’t so bad living up here,” she gave him a good natured laugh.

“I know it's not bad,” Deacon nodded. “But it isn’t really where I belong. I wish I could bring you with me to swim with us and see all there is out in the ocean.”

“Maybe I can learn how to dive and come visit one day,” his sister suggested as they stepped inside.

“If you do, I’ll help you swim,” he promised. “People don’t swim that well, even with the fins and stuff. But I can help.”

“Sarah, can I ask you to help him with something?” Her mother asked, coming back after putting her clothes on.

“What can I do?” Excitement filled her voice.

“Can you see if you can teach him to read a little while we are here?” She suggested. “Just for a little while each time we come. What do you think?”

“Sure! Come on Deacon, let me show you,” the two children rushed upstairs hand in hand.

“Did you really want him to learn, or were you hoping to get a little time with me?” Seungmin chuckled as he stepped out of the kitchen to greet her.

“Perhaps a little bit of both,” she admitted, giving him a happy kiss.

“He’s growing so fast,” Seungmin sighed, casting a glance at where they had disappeared. “I feel like I am missing so much of his life.”

“I know,” she commiserated. “I feel the same about our wonderful girl. But you have done so well raising her.”

“We have,” he agreed pointedly. “We have wonderful children.”

“Sarah Kim, Masters in Marine Biology,” the president announced, signaling it was her moment to step on the stage. Dressed in her graduation cap and gown, she stepped up, shaking the hand of the department heads, professors, and administrators as she made her way to accept her degree. It was perhaps predictable that she would follow this path, having always wanted to be a little closer to her mother’s world that seemed so close yet just out of reach. She wanted to understand it, she wanted to be a part of it, and most of all she wanted to protect it. After all, it was a part of her, too.

In the audience, her mother watched, seated beside her father, having stayed human this time, not wanting to miss this moment. Her brother had gone back to the sea, still far more comfortable there than on land and certainly uncomfortable with such large crowds. Sarah understood, she knew he would be there on the beach when she came back home, giving her a greeting before disappearing back under the waves. She knew he was proud. He had helped her learn and see so much on their dives together. They had both learned to walk in each other’s worlds.

After decades she came back from the sea a final time. She was growing old and, though the sea would always be a part of her, with her end near, she wanted to be with her loved ones. It was time to say goodbye and she could not imagine just never returning; leaving them wondering what had become of her one day when she just disappeared.

“I think I have finally come to stay, my love,” she told Seungmin as she took a seat beside him on the porch of their cottage on the beach.

“No more returning to the sea?” He asked quietly, putting an arm around her. “What about our son? Will he be alright out there, the only one of his kind?”

“He’s an adult and he will find his own path and his own family of his making,” she said with a proud confidence. “It’s not goodbye, just… time to let him go his own way.”

“Would you like me to play you your song?” He asked after a long silence.

“My song?” she asked, giving him a smile.

“You heard the part of it back on the beach the first time you came back to me,” he informed her. “I’ve been working on it ever since. It’s still not done, maybe it never will be, but would you like to hear it anyways?”

“Yes,” she said as she stood, ready to go to the music room where his piano sat, like his small ocean. It was an inseparable part of him, a little bit of his soul.

She stayed that final year in that cottage with the people she loved and still so near to the sea that would always hold a part of her, something even larger when her son was in it’s depths. When her time came, she could say she went without regrets and with her love by her side. Seungmin spread her ashes on their beach and in the sea so she would always be a part of both. He followed her only months after, at peace with his life and what he left behind. The cottage became the home of his daughter and a place where their son could always return to and always call home. His ashes joined hers, on their beach and in their sea, finally uniting them in a single place they could both always be.

Masterlist

[kth1]

Again [MYG]

Again [Yoongi x Reader] ⟶ Credits: @kimtaehyunq​ ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+ | Vampire AU ⟶ Warnings: use of vulgar language, adult content, mature themes, bloodplay, foreplay, creampie, biting, unprotected sex, yoongi is a hungry vampire, bed sex, etc ⟶ WC: 3.5k+ ⟶ Summary: History with a vampire, you think you’d be over it by now. Yoongi comes and goes as he pleases. But why does he keep coming back?  ⟶ Teaser: “He looked up at you through leering eyes, beaming deep garnet because he was so drugged on your blood. Mouth tinted red and in awe, “I told you I’d make it feel good.”” ⟶ Author’s note: Hi, hey, what’s up? It’s been awhile since I dabbled with writing but I’m glad I had creative juices flowing to help motivate me in making some BTS stuff. Many writers and editors have re-inspired me and I’m grateful to them. Also, nearing Halloween, I had to do something like write about a vampire. 😊

A shifting sound alerts you out of sleep. The room is dark, only being illuminated by random electronics throughout the area, like the blinking green light coming from the computer. A weight on your bed silently moved from the side towards the end. You heard a “pounce” sound come from the foot of the bed. In silence you listened to your cat scurry off out the room. It creaked the bedroom door as it exited the room and you listened to her pattering down the hall until the sound disappeared.

Lazily, you cracked open your eyes briefly to check the alarm clock on the stand beside the bed. Noting that it was close to 3:30 am. Inhaling in deep, you try to find composure to continue where you left off. Sleeping.

The standing fan facing your bed blew a soft breeze towards you. It was something you’re used to having, conditioned yourself. The sound of a mere fan helped you sleep at night. The soothing sound created just enough to give you low ambiance during the still nights. Complete silence had its own aura, that made you uneasy. Causing you to stay up listening to you own mind ponder useless nonsense.

You felt the temperature drop, a cooler breeze flowing through your room abruptly that wasn’t created through the single fan. Rolling over to face the wall that had your window, you noticed that it was left open allowing the cool night breeze flow in. Pushing past your navy curtains that shifted with the motion of the air. But you didn’t leave the window open?

As you leaned up in bed to head for the window a mysterious figure emerged into view, quickly making its way towards where you lie. In a blink of an eye you gasped, about to yell out when it leans down suddenly to cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhh… Don’t scream. It’s me.”

With eyes still widened from the shock, you soon relaxed. After recognizing the deep voice that split through my room, you eased back. How long has it been since you last heard this voice? With a nod, giving them the acknowledgement that you won’t shout.

The figure sat themselves down on the side of the bed, indenting their body into the mattress. Releasing their hand off your mouth slowly. It’s not the first time this happened, but it’s something you never fully got used to.

“Yoongi?” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”

His features were lit up slightly from the moonlight piercing into your room. He had a puzzled look to his face, he looked utterly confused. But his features were still stunning as ever. Effortlessly, he looks unreal, skin clear and glowing, hair styled neatly, and his attire clean cut and alternative. No doubt he was beautiful, he is a vampire after all. And most vampires are generally born with an extra little ‘spice’ to them.

But you still worried why he looked so disoriented. Something seemed to be bothering him and for him to randomly show up in the middle of the night, especially after not seeing another for a few months, you didn’t know how to take the situation that was at hand.

He sat still, looking broad and staring into the abyss, locking himself in his own world. Hesitantly, you placed yours hand over his that propped him up on the bed. His skin was cool and smooth, it felt like you just hovered your palm over a marble slab.

Yoongi’s thumb brushed over your fingers, slightly taking a grip of your hand in return. Grabbing hold of it only seconds later and bringing the back of your hand up to his mouth to place a small but sweet kiss. His touch reminded your of being touched by a snowflake that quickly melted by your own body heat. Yoongi lingered there for a few moments; you felt his cool breath exit his nose.

“I missed you, Y/n.”

You sighed. Not this again. There’s no way you could put yourself through this again. You’ve always been there for Yoongi ever since the two of you first met. Helping him in any way you could. But it’s difficult to keep up with him. He’s out of your league to put it nicely. Everything he needs is something you cannot match up to. It takes a toll on you each and every time.

You fully sat up in bed, retracting your hand slowly from his grasp. “Yoongi, we can’t do this,” you admitted. You were scared to put yourself through any more pain. Even though something in the back of your naive mind was yelling at you for saying those words out loud. Deep down you truly cared for Yoongi, truly wanted to be his and only his. But you weren’t enough.

He continued to stare off into the distance, listening carefully to your words. He looked calm though something felt off. That’s one inspiring thing you loved about Yoongi, no matter the situation he was able to give off a cool and relaxed exterior. But that also makes him scary at the same time.

“I need you.”

You blinked at his words. Did you hear him correctly? Yoongi snaked his hand back lacing it with your fingers once again, using his thumb to soothingly rub over it. “Please,” he spoke turning his head to look at me. From what you could make out it looked like he was struggling hard with his composure. His mannerisms felt off. It felt like there was something more to it than he was giving.

Leaning over with your free hand to reach for the light on the stand, Yoongi quickly snatched your wrist and held it still. “Keep it off.”

His sudden movement had you shocked, not as shocked when he broke into my room through the open window and nearly gave you a heart attack a few minutes ago, but shocked, nonetheless. Now you were beginning to feel totally concerned. He was hiding something from you! “Yoongi, what’s really going on with you?” You spoke, biting down on your lip.

Yoongi brought both of your hands to him, holding them close to his chest. He wasn’t one to really show much emotion, not because he didn’t have any, but more because it was difficult for him to express himself. You’re sure he constantly had conflicting thoughts in his mind endlessly.

“I just needed to see you again.” His voice deep, mumbled under his breath.

Yoongi kept his head down, clutching his hands to yours. Was this his way of  showing sincerity?

You leaned towards him, moving your hands up, cuffing his face. Forcing his head up you held his cold face in your warm palms. Easily you could make out more details in his features. Your thumbs brushed along his cheekbones, ones that stuck out more prominent than you remember. It’s still fairly dark around your two bodies and though it was difficult for you to see under his hooded eyes, he had deep dark bags formed. Making him look drawn out.

“Have you been feeding, Yoongi?” You spoke in a soft tone.

He attempted to turn his head away, though you held it still. Instead he averted his gaze and exhaled deeply. “I’m fine.”

“You look pale.” You addressed matter-a-factually. 

He half-heartedly chuckled, “I’m a vampire. I’m supposed to be paler than normal.”

You rolled your eyes at his bluntness. Yes, that was a given, being a vampire and all. “You know what I mean!”

Yoongi shifted himself more on the bed, kneeling towards you. Misery laced through his aura, he looked like he’s been through a tough time. Pain painted across his delicate face.

“Why aren’t you eating?” You asked, pushing his dark bangs away from his forehead with a hand.

Yoongi shook his head, in disapproval of what he’s about to say. What he’s trying to admit. “It’s not satisfying anymore... It’s not the same.”

Cocking your head to the side, like a puppy trying to understand the voice before them. “What?” Your body involuntary moved to the side, opening up space for Yoongi to lay besides you. Patting the newly opened spot, you offered him with a gentle smile. 

He obliged, kicking off his shoes without the exchange of words. Lifting the duvet up and over his thin body once he slid himself closer. Yoongi laid facing you with his precious head resting in the fluff of a pillow. Pieces of his hair flared out, his arm hung loose around your waist; giving you just enough space away but not enough to be completely out of reach.

Your body heat trapped under the covers helped add some temperature to his cooled body. You couldn’t stand the way he looked. Your heart ached seeing his pain. “Talk to me, I’m begging you.” You traced his bottom lip with your index finger, trying to get his lips to open up and move.

Yoongi’s eyes met yours, the set of deep brown orbs connecting back to your own pair. They swirled with hidden emotion. His breath hitched the moment the pad of your finger landed on his mouth. He gulped, “It doesn’t feel right, unless it’s you.”

Your heart beat raised slightly to the reaction of this news. Your mind trying to process what he’s openly saying. “Please don’t say silly things.” You retorted with a scoff.

Something was telling you not to believe him and fall for this. Your mind was only trying to protect your from being hurt once again. But your body… your body ached and longed for Yoongi’s touch. You knew you missed him too, but you were utterly afraid to admit it yourself.

“Since when have I ever lied to you, Y/n?”

You swallowed hard. He’s right. No matter the penalty he was very straight forward with everything. Never giving false hope. So why would he be doing that now? Unless…

He is telling the truth.

You laid there speechless, staring back into Yoongi’s gaze. Not having a single word, a single vowel, not a single sound release from your lips. Just your two bodies placed side by side in soundlessness.

“How long has it been?” You mustered up the courage to ask.

“Two months.”

“But- Why?”

Two months is too long. Yoongi - he was depriving himself. He was willingly starving himself. And for what? Because it’s not the same? What’s not the same? Nothing has changed. He’s vampire. Your human. It doesn’t work. The two of you clash. It’s a reoccurring cycle - it’s all the same.

His gripped tightened around your waist, latching your close into his body and deleting all empty space. Your hands found their place against his carved chest. Faces just inches away from another. He formed a soft smile while looking down to your parting lips.

“Because of you.”

In a smooth motion he leaned in, meeting his thin curved lips to your rosy ones. The sweet savory moment heated up your cheeks, blossoming a hue of red. His tongue eagerly reached forward asking for access to your mouth. It was tender, sensual, and you groaned for him to touch you again. Memories flooding back to your mind of the last time. And the time before that. And the time before that… All impressions of him.

You caved hard under his presence.

Yoongi had a hold on you, curling his free arm to lift your thigh up over him. You extended your hands up into his hair, running your digits through his neat dark beautiful locks, tousling it up during the heated exchange between us. Enough to leave you short of breath as he finally pulled away from the kiss.

Yoongi didn’t hesitate. He trailed kisses from your jawline down to your neck and touching base at your collar bones. Hitting that magical sensitive location that made you go wild. A faint moan escaped pass your lips, “Yoongi…”

He fluttered many gentle icy kisses all around. Tender. Intimate. Lingering. You arched your neck enough to give him more room to continue his actions, to continue making your feel the way you were experiencing once again. He guided his hand up and down your thigh, gaining friction between your skins. You couldn’t help but ease into his delightful touches, slip under the patterns he traced with his slim fingers. Pushing your body up against him as much as you could to feel his hardening member under all the fabric.

“It’s okay, you can.” You muttered.

Yoongi continued to sway your body, completely falling under his spell one more time. He dipped his hand down, pushing under the hem of your shorts and past your pants, gliding a single finger between your slick folds. His digit taunted your clit, that little bundle of nerves controlling your every move. You were a sitting duck under Yoongi’s movements, all nerve endings screaming for him to work his tricky fingers.

“I’ll make it feel good for you.” Yoongi reassured to you.

A puff of air left your mouth; gripping down onto his shoulders. He slides down another finger, copying exactly what he did with the first. Yoongi’s touch is entirely intoxicating. Pressing against that sensitive sweet spot then plunging them deep inside your entrance in one swift motion.

With that, Yoongi licked a firm line up your neck. His trail of saliva coating your supple skin, glistening in the dim light. He curled his fingers up into your core, sliding in fast using thanks to your self-lubrication that collected down there. The tips of his fingers prodded straight into your g-spot, stimulating you even more as his teeth sank into the crook of your neck. The sensation sending shivers all over your body.

You moaned out in pleasure. A wave of sparkly adrenaline raced throughout your veins, washing over with a radiating heat. He hasn’t done it like this before. Oh please, “don’t stop!”

Yoongi sipped down the stream of fresh blood that leaked into his mouth. The impending orgasm that crept up far too fast for your liking had you fluttering your eyes shut. Instantly you body jolted to him, walls clenching hard around his slender fingers, riding out the ripples pacing within you as steadily as ever.

There was no recognition of how clothes flew off of your bodies, but they were on one second and gone the next. Bodies fumbling together, contacting the hot and cold temperatures.

Before you could even register the moment, you felt something thick and hard push pass your entrance and velvety walls, stretching you out with every inch that sank in. Your vulnerable puckered cunt receiving the full length of Yoongi’s hardened cock. 

He looked up at you through leering eyes, beaming deep garnet from the drug of your blood. Mouth tinted red and in awe, “I told you I’d make it feel good.”

Not once has he told you anything but the harsh truth. He never spoke out a lie  and you appreciated everything about that. Not once ever deceived. Mislead. Or felt like he exaggerated from facts or reality. You loved him for this, so much.

You reconnected your lips, pushing yourself pass the taste of iron that came with it. You wanted him, you craved him, you needed him again. Even if it hurt you. Just like this you’ll keep him.

Yoongi hovered over you; dick still submerged into your pussy. Tip entering and exiting you in long strides at a fast pace. Please don’t stop this. God, please don’t.

“Again.” You tossed your head to the side enjoying the pleasurable feeling.

“Okay.”

He locked his teeth back into the juncture of your neck, creating another puncture wound. But it didn’t feel like a wound to you. It felt like a love bit - a mark of his signed and packaged directly to me.

With the weight of him on top, Yoongi’s hips bucked sharp into you, jacking his cock back and forth. Skin slapping together filled the room, you held on tight with legs crossed around his tiny waist. Penetrating you perfectly into bliss.

Yoongi’s mouth moved down to my left breast, immediately contacting it with sloppy wet open-mouthed kisses. Raising a free hand to give attention to the right breast, stimulating and pinching the nipple making it harden within seconds.

“Y/n, I can’t get enough of you.” Yoongi admitted between kisses, botched of blood peppering your skin. 

Face flushed, “Again!” You whined rolling your hips up into him to match his pace.

He can’t get enough of you? You can’t get enough of him. You had wanted nothing more than to feel connected to Yoongi regardless on how different the two of you were. His fangs once again pierced your bare skin, just above the breast this time. How he’s doing this is beyond you, fucking you hard with his dick, sucking you weak. But you still felt more energy than ever.

Yoongi continued his pace, eventually fastening his thrusts and mouth messily moving across your exposed skin. Staining areas with blood as he continued to paint over my body. Unbothered by the look, it felt natural.

Your blood put Yoongi through a craze of his own that he could only experience. Your scent filling up the room for his own satisfaction. Yoongi repays you back with lustful strides of his cock, forcing himself deep against the crest of your cervix. Shifting your body up with every powerful thrust, rocking the bed beneath your molded bodies.

Inaudible voices traded to another. Grunts, moans, growls. You could feel your climax coil in your lower stomach, persisting to blow over again and wishing to wash your body with sporadic twitches and spasms.

Was it the loss of blood in your body making me lightheaded or was it from the wonderful pounding you were getting? Probably both, but you couldn’t imagine it being any other way. If this is the Yoongi you get, you’re going to keep him as long as possible.

“I can tell you’re close. You’re stiffening around me, why don’t you let it go?”

You shook your head stubbornly; refusing to confess him your thoughts. You couldn’t reveal something that would mean nothing to him in the morning. Yoongi furrowed his brows as if he knew exactly what going on in that little head of yours.

Yoongi lifted himself, bending his knees into the bed and positioned one of your legs over his shoulder - giving his cock easier access and angle into your womanhood. Lifting your bottom half up on his thighs and snapping his hips repeatedly into you at this new angle forced you to squeeze your eyes shut, rolling your head back with a gasp. Simultaneously your hands reached out for anything to hold onto, to anchor yourself down. 

He grunted at the sight of you, grinning wide with specks of blood on the corners of his mouth. You laid out in front of him at his own supervised mercy. A puppet and he- your puppeteer. This is what he couldn’t get enough of. What Yoongi missed. What he needed. This is what satisfied him. You laying beneath his control with joy plastered across your face has he’s balls deep into the warm wetness of your clenching pussy, tightening around his fully erect dick. 

But you were delaying the grand finale.

“O-oh god, Yoongi…” You shrieked as the head of his cock forced itself dead on your g-spot, numbing tingles shooting down your legs.

Yoongi wasn’t giving up. He was determined to flush you out completely and taste the rich flavor of your metallic blood. Addicted to the taste and smell of it all.

“You’re going to cum again whether you like it or not.” He hissed.

Forcing his thumb between your legs, he rubbed harsh circles on your clit. His thrusts jammed deep into you, forcing your release to hit you full force. Juices spilling around his cock, sending your body in a raging frenzy. 

He attacked his mouth to your raised thigh, burying his teeth, forming a deep gash and allowing a stream of blood run down the expanse of your leg. Yoongi lapped up the spilled liquid, at the same time using his lower back to roll his hips and chase his own sinful high. He clenched his teeth hard, bruising and mutilating the skin on your thigh once he released his full load into your cunt, earning a shriek of pain from you. Dick throbbing, your walls held onto him tightly, milking every last drop.

Yoongi tossed your legs to the side and collapsed face down into the mattress, panting heavily along with you. Your legs felt a tingly sensation all over besides the area that burned from the mouthful of flesh he dug into. His essence slowly oozing out of your cunt.

Again, your mind flooded with ‘am I good enough’. Did you satisfy Yoongi to make him stay with you or will this be a repetitive process and you will not see him again until he needed to get off? Why does your mind fill with doubt? With everything Yoongi just said, you still refused to believe it.

“Stop thinking.” Yoongi turned to face you.

“I-I can’t help it.” You choked, fresh tears collecting in your eyes.

Shifting so that his body connected to yours, Yoongi placed delicate kisses along your arm all the way up to your face. He latched his arm around your waist, rolling you to face him in return.

“I’m staying. I promise.”

The tears fell, you couldn’t control it. It’s like he read your mind, your body, and soul. Yoongi shushed you with a soft peck to your cheek, and one last one to your lips. 

Yoongi never lied to you. 

© All rights reserved under @kimtaehyunq​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[coffeecomicsgalore]

Now That I See You

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Ao3

Summary: Marinette has noticed the intimate details of her partner. The moonlight only helped them bring them together.Her heart betrayed her mind.

Song: I See The Light – Tangled (The Movie)  

Marinette sat quietly as she watched her partner animatedly talk about some interesting thing that happened to him in his civilian form. His eyes were wide and accompanied his bright smile. Even his laugh was carefree. It was enjoyable, calming, and just so refreshing. Battles rarely led to these moments, but when she was able to spend time with him during their patrols, or just like this when he visited her as her civilian self, she failed to remember a time where she didn’t relish in his presence.

She took in his form, memorizing every detail that she can see in the darkness of the evening. She was thankful that the full moon shone brightly tonight, highlighting every bit of curvature, crevice, and chisel that his skin tight suit gave off. She gripped the railing tightly, hoping to calm down the flutters that seemed to grow in her belly.  

Over the last two years, Chat Noir had matured, both physically and emotionally. His never-ending growth spurts had grown him tall enough to tower her by a head and a half. His shoulders now broad with muscles so toned that the suit just caressed them in the right areas. He changed the look of his hair, the messy mused mop that she had grown to love was now a modern look of a beautiful fade into a teased, well gelled sweep that just accentuated his chiseled jawline and bright green eyes that she swore only grew brighter as he aged. And his voice. His timid voice had deepened, only adding to the package that is now the postpubescent Chat.

Now it was her heart that decided to betray her.

Chat had also grown to understand that his consistent flirting went nowhere. He became more interested in ensuring her protection and safety over the silly flirting and ill-timed cat puns, and the care that he put into the civilians only brought out his sensitive side. This was a side that Marinette knew he had buried deep inside his fun and flirtatious exterior and she was glad to witness this in both parts of her life. His compassion, his love, his fears, his sorrows, his pain – the world of Chat was much smaller than he had made it out to be during the first year of their partnership and she wanted to understand and soothe and hold him during the trivial parts of his life that he has tried so hard to keep hidden.

But all the silent communication over the years has only strengthen her understanding of his body language. She spent many a night with tears in her eyes wishing she could miraculous ladybug his pain and suffering and bring him back to the happy carefree man that she sees in front of her right now. It was too much for her to keep to herself sometimes (her kwami has learned to let her vent out her frustrations into her pillow and leave her be), but she would always take the moment to listen to him whenever he needed her the most – as Ladybug or as Marinette – and she would give him the world if she could.

Sighing, she looked forward past her balcony and breathed in the coolness of the night, watching the blinking lights that dotted the Parisian skyline. The soothing voice beside her was now a satiated hum, but the sweet sound of her nickname pulled her out of her revere.  

“Princess?”

Her heart continued to betray her.  

She turned back to Chat noticing the 1000-kilowatt smile that she cherished oh so much. His elbow leaned against the railing as his body turned slightly towards her. His eyes, pure and full of dreams, looked lovingly at her as he reached his clawed hand towards her face to brush a stray strand of hair that had moved from the wind. Without thinking, she reached up to grasp the hand, placing it against her cheek as she nuzzled against it, her eyes shuttering closed as she felt the warmth radiating through the gloves.  

When she peered through her lashes, the continued admiration that pierced her soul watched her carefully. There was an additional hue to his cheeks that was barely visible in the moonlight, but she was so close she could see it. He had taken one step forward, never removing his hand from her cheek, and carefully placed his free hand on the small of her back and guided her body towards him.

A blush appeared on Marinette’s cheeks; a feeling of warmth radiated to her toes. She looked down, a little bashful over their closeness. They were merely centimeters apart, awaiting with bated breath, a little unsure if the unspoken feeling between them should be addressed.  

Chat slid his hand from her cheek to her chin, lifting it ever so slightly so he could see her sapphire eyes. The moonlight seemed to have deepened their hue, making it completely impossible to look away. He wanted a confirmation, something that told him no, but she stood there gazing into his own peridot orbs silently urging him on.

Eyes shuttering close, warm clouds of air tantalizing their faces before he leaned down and softly placed his lips on hers, mouths moving in unison as if it was something they so often did. It was familiar, it was sweet, it was warm. It felt like home.

It felt right.

There was no fear, no hesitation, no looking back as they moved forward into uncharted territory. Her hands reached up to touch the little patch of skin that peaked through his collar as he moved to wrap his arms around her waist, placing them closer together and deepening the kiss.  

When all the air escaped their lungs, they reluctantly separated to allow them to fill back up. Still holding her close, he leaned his forehead against hers, swallowing a lump that formed in his throat. She nuzzled her nose against his and placed a soft kiss to his lips, encouraging another round of sweet, sensual kisses.

She memorized the taste of cinnamon and the faint lingering smell of Camembert mixed with a musky cologne that tantalized her senses; the way his lips felt against her own, both soft and welcoming as his lips consumed her.  

Pulling back again, he couldn’t hold his tongue, the words spilling from his freshly kissed lips like a song. “I- I love you, Marinette.”

She felt like she was dreaming. Her heart warmed at the confession and a sudden urge to give him the world flooded her being and she couldn’t control herself. Plunging back into his lips, the passionate kisses deepened as he moaned into her mouth, eliciting more passionate kisses until the dizziness of the movements overtook them. The man in front of her poured his heart to her in so little words that she smiled against his lips, kisses in between, and she spilled out her own confession.

“I love you too, mon chaton.”  

[paralume-game]

Can you give a brief description of each of the ROs? I know their names and what they look like, but who are they as people?

Hello. I sneaked past the gates of Hell (School) for a minute to hand out some more vague character descriptions, to keep you yearning. :)

_

Azalea

She's harsh and eloquent. Brisk in getting hold of a conversation, and turning it upside down at her desire.

You can see sheer knowledge swimming behind those inky dilated pupils, covering up her charming brown eyes, flecked with spots of gold.

Her long nails brush through her hair.

Slow and seductive.

Voluminous maroon locks bounce from the touch of her sharp black nails.

She flicks you a sultry smile, speaking in a suggestive tone,

"I'm a hunter, birdie."

She grabs a fistful of your attire, pulling you closer.

"Strong," she whispers.

Her red lips close in on yours, hot breath awakening dormant goosebumps all over your body. In this close proximity, you can watch her long lashes flutter against her dark bronze skin.

"Cunning," she continues.

She takes her time to regard all the details of your face, eyes flitting over every part, finally ending up on your lips.

She pulls back then, pushing you away harshly, so that you lose your balance. She's tittering.

Not attempting in the slightest to prevent your fall. Merely watching you descend, hitting the ground uncomfortably.

You stare up at her towering form, hovering above you, a feral smile adorning her full lips.

She makes you feel powerless.

Just by watching. By smiling. By touching.

She shakes her mane like a lion, satisfied with the hunt. Proud of the kill.

She doesn't have to plunge her nails into your skin to assert her reign.

"And dangerously alluring," she finishes, leaving you behind in the dirt.

You only hear the sound of her ruby red dress, fluttering in the breeze, before her shadow disappears entirely.

_

Azazel

His big hands stroke softly over fabric.

He wields the scissors in them with scrupulous skill.

His gaze is concentrated, but there's a mild hint of wonder swirling in his beautiful eyes.

The left one a mossy green, like the untamed ivy crawling up the walls of his home. Whereas a stripe of blue cuts through the right one, like a cool stream of water in a lush forest.

Excitement crawls between his ebony digits, daringly offering him to try something new, something outrageous.

Something that he will never show the world, but store deep in his own closet, concealed underneath a pile of earthy coloured garments.

Too striking for him to wear, too attention seeking.

He can't draw eyes toward him, there's nothing special to be seen there.

It would only be a mismatch of colours on him, just like his irises.

Fear shackles his hands with a tight grip, making him drop the scissors.

Doubt claws at his mind.

Why does he bother if the things he creates won't be appreciated? What does the process mean, if it's stagnant and dreary?

He picks the shears up once more, accidentally cutting his finger on the sharp metal blades.

A blotch of red glares up from the unfinished garb. Prominent. Striking.

He sets to finish the task. For his own sake only.

_

Nathan/Hanna

Sweet charity carries their voice, soft intimacy lies in their touch, and safety can be found in their embrace.

So soothing, that they could strangle you in their arms, without any alarming struggle or complain from you.

You'd simply melt further into their warmth.

Dark chocolate eyes will search for yours, tearing up with affection when they find you gazing back at them.

Brunette hair tickles your shoulders, as they lay their cheek upon it.

They're free of greed, always there to lend a hand, an ear, a word.

Never expecting anything in return.

A person so extremely caring, that they'd rather watch out for someone else, instead of taking care of their own soul.

It's quite difficult to not want to give anything back to them.

But your happiness is more than enough, they tell you. Your steadily beating heart is a song that soothes their own.

There lies grief deep within those words, plucking at your heartstrings.

They lie a hand on top of it, feeling its rhythm. Nursing its heat.

"I'm glad you're here with me," they whisper, with a smile dripping off their lips.

Brighter than day.

Though darker than usual.

The rest of the sentence remains as a barely audible movement of lips, quieter than a pin drop:

"Even though I don't deserve you."

_

Blaire

Nonchalant and uncaring, it seems.

Though there lies passion, as well as untold stories within their songs, and the images etched underneath their skin.

A garden of Milkweed and birds of paradise wind up their arms. Quotes, lettering, critters, and silly doodles peek through their leaves.

Swallows fly a detour over their neck, wings outstretched.

Their creativity shapes whole cities, entire worlds, even.

Radiant places, filled with vivid buildings, reaching for the skies. And bustling streets, each blot of colour in them representing a person. Souls containing tall tales.

They shake their damp black hair out of their eyes, grazing the canvas with the tip of their brush in the process.

A sigh chimes.

Out of annoyance from observing the invading orange line on the side of a skyscraper, now a glowing pile of rubble, extending toward the heavens.

It strikes an idea in them, their strokes picking up speed.

Do those wrecks reach for the stars?

Scrape at them, to get a taste of space dust? The Flavour of impossibility melting on their tongues.

They take a step back from the canvas, taking in a drawing, which depicts... hope, mostly. If they had to pick a word.

A reoccurring theme to be found in their creations.

And yet, whenever their dark eyes, black like ink, fall on their pieces of work after the finishing touch, there's but a pinch of yearning to be found in them.

Yearning for the world outside this town they're in, desire to lose these invisible shackles around their feet, binding them to this forsaken place.

Their hands grab the sides of the easel, throwing it to the side.

Wet paint clings to wooden flooring, as the image and restless footsteps hit the ground.

Acrylic dries on overpriced vintage clothes.

Ash hits a tray. Nicotine fills lungs.

And eyelids close reluctantly.

_

Willow

They look cold and brittle. Thin and tired. The bags underneath their eyes grow evermore, every day.

Development that is caused by the indifference toward concealing them.

"What for?" They'd reply, if you would ask, voice light.

Then they'd try to brush stark white hair out of their icy eyes.

Suddenly revealing their blue brilliance, surrounded by signs of fatigue, as they pluck the strands behind their pointy ears.

Knowing them, you're sure it's their way of telling you that it's alright to be tired.

It's okay to be exhausted.

They are too, after all.

They'd flick you a smile, if you'd mull over the answer. Sharp canines, usually hidden behind light pink lips, peeping through.

They're always trying to keep up a distant exterior, mysterious as the forest encircling the both of you.

Though you know well that they are as caring as can be.

Worrying deep into the night about the wellbeing of people that they love.

You can observe their deep-rooted care and patience especially well in how they tend to their father's garden.

Always patiently searching for and plucking away weeds, or assiduously watering the earth with a perfectly estimated amount of water.

With a white cloak sporting dark brown stains. Certainly one of the few times on which it isn't in an impeccable shape.

They're concerned about each being trying to prosper in such an unforgiving world. They also hold a special concern for your steady level of idiocy. Although they have learnt to become fond of it, flat out cherish it. In secret, of course.

Even so, they can not will themself to reach the same level of foolishness- dare they say 'careless freedom', as you.

For underneath the wise, hardworking, pale façade lies the mere face of a scared child.

[d3-iseefire]

Belated Writing Wednesday

Really Belated Writing Wednesday! SO this was a story I started months ago and hadn’t finished. It’s finished now, and is long enough to be about a four chapter long fic SO I’m gonna post a chapter a day til the fic goes away.  :D :D

Little Warning: This fic gets pretty intense later on so please keep in mind that it’s still me writing it which means it’s still T Rated, No Archive Warnings and a Happy Ending. :)

For those who watch the show Supernatural, Sam and Dean make a cameo but the story is mainly about Bilba and Fili.

Anyhoo, I hope you all enjoy! Chapter 2 will be up tomorrow (on AO3). I’m not going to post each chapter on here, I don’t think, but I’ll post something letting you all know it’s up.

In the meantime, here’s the link what will eventually be the full story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702031/chapters/51764428

Bilba met Fili on a rainy January evening when she was six and he was eight. The rain had left her stuck inside, and she'd been slowly going stir crazy. Her foster mother had turned the lights down to put a movie on and, while the other children were engrossed, Bilba took the opportunity to sneak out to go exploring.

She headed straight to the basement.

None of the kids were allowed down there and she could just imagine the looks of awe she would receive from the others when she regaled them with tales of her adventure.

Tragically, what she found were boxes, and dust. Lots and lots of dust that tickled her nose and sent her into a violent sneezing fit.  

When she'd finally recovered, she’d looked up to see a young boy staring at her suspiciously from the other side of the room.

Fili, as he’d introduced himself, had snuck in to look for monsters. The way he said it, all serious and solemn, nearly made Bilba laugh but she managed to control herself and simply nod back with what, she hoped, was an equal level of gravity.

She could understand where he'd gotten the idea. The home she had been placed in was in an apartment building, five stories with a stone exterior stained dark in places by the passing of years. In wintertime the leaves died off which left the trees spindly and creepy and, at night cheap lightbulbs caused an otherworldly orange light to shine from the windows.

Bilba thought the place had a ghost, and she lived there.

She’d ended up helping Fili look because it sounded like fun (even though he continued to insist it was very serious) and, together, the two hunted through boxes and searched shadowy corners for any evidence of ghosts, ghouls or other assorted monstrosities.

It had been nearly an hour later that her foster mother found them, along with a tall, dark haired intimidating man that turned out to be Fili’s uncle. Fili had been dragged off, while Bilba had been sent to her room for the evening for sneaking away and making everyone worry.

That might well have been the end of it, if it hadn’t been for Fili showing up a few days later to see if she wanted to play. This time he’d been dropped off by a different, just as intimidating, man Fili had introduced as Dwalin.  

Dwalin had left and she and Fili had spent the entire afternoon running about playing. This had been followed by a similar afternoon the next day, as well as the one after that and the one after that. It was nearly five days later, in fact, before Dwalin had arrived to take Fili away again.

Bilba had cried for hours.

Two weeks later and he was suddenly back again, this time with a younger brother named Kili in tow. They'd stayed for only two days this time; and then it was another week before they arrived again.

It became a normal, if irregular, occurrence after that for both of them to be dropped off. Her foster mother explained that she and Fili's uncle were old friends, and she watched his nephews while he was away on business trips.

Fili insisted that his family was off fighting monsters, and they knew her foster mother because they'd once saved her from one.

Bilba didn't really believe him but had to admit his story was more interesting than the one her foster mother told.

As they grew older she grew closer to both of them, but her bond with Fili was always a little bit deeper than it was with Kili. When they were gone, Bilba spent most of her time sitting at her bedroom window waiting for him -- them to come back.

Fili began to visit more often, not always with Kili, and not always times where he had to stay. His family lived in a small, rundown house on the edge of town, and he’d ride an old battered bike in to spend the day with her.

On Bilba’s eight birthday, Fili and his family showed up to take her out for dinner. It was the first time she'd felt like part of a family, just like any other kid out with their parents and siblings to celebrate. The restaurant staff had given her a free cupcake with a cheap, plastic eight that she'd carefully preserved and hidden away for safety.

Later, Bilba got permission to go with Fili and his uncle on outings, sometimes to that rundown house on the edge of town, other times to the movies or the park or mall. Once, they all went to the beach and she got to see the ocean for the very first time.

She got to know them all. Fili of course, and his uncle, and then Kili. There was also Dwalin and a host of other people who came in and out at various times. Many of them were quite serious and had a tendency to brood, but they were always very kind to her.

She never met Fili and Kili's parents. The one time she'd asked, Fili had gotten sad and simply told her they were gone.

Fili's family seemed to get hurt a lot, often sporting bandages or favoring arms or legs, but she was always waved off when she tried to ask what had happened. Fili and Kili never got hurt. He said it was because he wasn’t old enough to hunt monsters yet and, as always, Bilba simply nodded and accepted it. She’d learned long ago not to be a bother. When you were a bother, people didn’t want you. She didn’t ask silly questions or raise her voice and she certainly didn’t go anywhere near the many weapons they told her to stay away from.

In addition to them, Bilba also got to meet Tauriel. She was a friend of Kili's and, when she visited, she spent a lot of time sharpening her own weapons. She was Fili’s age but, as he always complained, her family let her hunt. She rarely ever got hurt. When Bilba asked why, Tauriel said it was because she knew when to duck.

Fili got his first knife when she was eleven and he was thirteen. Soon after, Bilba stopped seeing him as often. Instead of being left behind while his uncle and Dwalin went on their trips (to hunt monsters as Fili always insisted) he went with them. Kili still came to stay sometimes, but it wasn't the same for either of them and he soon stopped.

It was around this time that the doubt first started to creep in.

She supposed it came from watching the other kids around her come and go. Mostly go. There always seemed to be people looking for a little boy or girl to come and complete their family.

No one ever asked to meet her.

She didn’t know why. Maybe she wasn't pretty enough or smart enough or a thousand different things. In the end, all that mattered was she simply wasn't enough. No one wanted her. As time passed, a small voice inside her head began trying to convince her that Fili and his family didn't want her either.  

Sure, they took her out, but they always brought her back. Always turned and drove away. Off on their business trips for days, or even weeks, at a time. Without her.

They never offered to adopt her, never even seemed to consider it.

Some of the other kids taunted her for it.

Sometimes that voice inside her head taunted her too.

Maybe, it would say, she’d never been anything more than a built-in playmate to keep Fili and his brother busy and out of his uncle's hair.

Maybe they thought she was annoying even though she tried her hardest not to be. Maybe they only tolerated her. Maybe Fili thought she was annoying but was too nice to get rid of her or maybe they thought of her as nothing more than an irritating little girl who couldn’t take a hint.

Maybe they were just waiting for her to go away.

The thoughts got louder as she got older, particularly once her eighteenth birthday started to become less of a far-off concept and more of a rapidly approaching reality. She couldn’t stay in the home once she turned eighteen. She’d have to move out, find a job and place to stay.

She'd be all on her own.

When she was three months from her eighteenth birthday and he was well into his twentieth year, Fili got hurt for the first time. Really hurt. He'd been hurt before, ever since he started going away on those business trips with his uncle, but it had never been more than a few cuts and bruises or, once, a broken arm.

This time he came home unconscious and pale, with blood still staining his neck and soaking through his shirt in a bigger pool than she’d ever seen. His breathing had been shallow, and his pulse been so slow she almost couldn’t feel it.

His entire chest had been wrapped in heavy bandages and she knew he should be in the hospital, hooked up to all manner of machines and tubes, but instead they put him in his bed and set up a crappy old IV pump that they’d stolen at the same time they’d snuck him out of the hospital he should have been in.

It was the first time Bilba had gotten mad at them.

It was the first time she’d yelled.

It was the first time they’d yelled back. 

She’d threatened to call the police, and they’d threatened to take Fili and leave...and never come back.

Bilba would always remember the cutting pain as those words had lanced right through her. She'd reeled back as if they'd physically struck her and, in many ways, they had.

Kili had shouted at his uncle, while Dwalin had ordered them all to shut up and, through it all, Bilba had simply...stood there.

She hadn't moved until their uncle had stalked from the room and slammed the door behind him. Kili had tried to talk to her but Bilba had simply shaken her head. She’d gone and stretched out on the bed next to Fili...and stayed there.

For days.

For weeks.

No one from her foster home came looking for her.

It had taken three days for Kili to convince her to eat, and then only because he’d threatened to have Dwalin drag her from the room if she didn’t. After that, Bilba had made sure to eat, and shower and do what she was supposed to do.

She did it by rote.

She did it in silence because if there was one thing she now knew with utter certainty it was that while she couldn't live without Fili and his family, they could certainly live without her.  

Life could be unfair that way sometimes.

Fili took two and a half weeks to wake up, and it would be weeks more before every moment of that waking wasn’t spent in agony.

Bilba stayed with him the entire time, even later when he was mostly healed, and the rest of the family started their business trips again.

She finally asked Fili what happened.

He told her it was monsters.

Something inside her had snapped. She'd screamed at him and, for the first time since they'd met, Fili had realized she'd never believed him about the monsters.

The fight that followed was the biggest they’d ever had, mostly on her end. All of it suddenly came pouring out. The horrible voice in her head, her anxiety over her eighteenth birthday, the gut churning terror she’d felt as she’d watched over him and begged him not to leave her.

At some point he’d stopped and simply listened to her, eyes wide. Bilba had wanted to stop, had told herself to stop, to just simply shut up, please shut up, for the love of god, just shut up.

Don’t be a problem.

Don’t make his life harder.

Don’t get in the way.

He won’t want you anymore.

None of them will.

They'll leave and then where will you be?

 Alone.

That's where.

 She couldn’t seem to stop, however, and by the end of it her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were swollen and puffy, and she was shaking so hard it was a wonder she didn’t collapse.

She’d run from the house before he could tell her that he hated her. When he'd tried to visit she'd refused to see him, and when her phone had rung with the ringtone she'd set for him she'd turned it off.

Eventually he'd stopped trying, and she’d finally learned the answer to the question she’d always been too afraid to ask.

It had been an illusion.

A myth.

A pleasant dream she’d used to pass the time until she was forced to face reality.

No one wanted her, and no one ever would.

Read the Rest Here As It’s Posted: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21702031/chapters/51764428

[itsthejuggernautbitch]

You Look Like Trouble (Morning Glory Wine - Cable/OC

Here’s chapter eight!

Issa lot of booty.

(And as always, not to be that person but if you’ve got the time and the inclination, kudos or a comment would be greatly appreciated.)

Taglist: @this-that-and-every-thing-else  @ptite-shit  @lesbianyondu @chromecutie  @gallifreyangrandtorino  @ra-ra-rasputiin  @akihecko @bigstarlightkingdom  @buckyjefferson  @lenavonschweetz

Four a.m. was an early night for both Vivian and Cable. Vivian rarely got in from Sister Margaret's before 2AM and sometimes ended up closing the bar with Weasel at 6AM, depending on the clientele that night. Vivian was exhausted after an already-long night of stitching up criminals and snuggling with a mercenary she’d almost kicked out of her backroom office before said snuggling occurred, but she didn’t feel like sleeping. She’d slept on the ride home, but with Cable now standing in her kitchen, she was more than wide awake.

Vivian figured that she had to be crazy to have invited him in. She had to have lost it, she decided. Both she and Cable had dark circles under their eyes and the night wasn’t even finished. She’d never invited a guy in after a fight, not even Jack when they'd still been married. And certainly not in the last five years (to be fair, she hadn’t been near anyone in the last five years, but that was beside the point). It was just him. Cable and his stubborn gruffness, his deep voice, those muscles - and the compassion that he did his best to keep hidden.

Everything about him was strange and out of place in her cozy little apartment. The mechanical arm and eye, the obviously anachronistic weapons hanging off his hip, even the obligatory tight-shirt-and-cargo-pants mercenary uniform. His rugged appearance was resolutely different from her sensible little kitchen, but as soon as he dropped the weapons and sat down at her kitchen table, it became strange to think that he’d never been there before.

Well, she certainly wasn’t going to kick him out, that’s for sure. Yeah, they still had shit to work through - a lot of it. But this was cozy, comforting. As if they’d known each other for years. As if this was no different than every other Saturday night. And it scared the hell out of both of them.

“Coffee?” Vivian asked, fishing out a new coffee filter for the machine and two mugs. “I’ve got decaf too if you don’t want a case of the jitters..”

“Full strength will do just fine, please and thank you,” Cable replied, elbows on the table. He watched her fuss with the coffeemaker, almost smiling behind his hands. He’d seen her fuss over people before, himself and Wade in particular, and her fussing over the coffeemaker wasn’t so different from that. “Not a fan of decaf.”

“My kind of man,” Vivian replied, pausing when she realized what she said. “Well, if you couldn’t already tell.”

“This would be an awkward predicament if I wasn’t.”

“I certainly wouldn’t be making you coffee at four a.m. if you weren’t.”

Vivian poured two mugs of coffee, handed him one, and sat down at the table. She knew she looked a mess - the dark circles (and darkening further) that never seemed to go away; long, dark hair pulled up in a high bun; old jeans and a t-shirt. Not that it mattered much at four a.m. what state of disarray she might be in, especially when Cable looked at her like that anyway. She felt prickly, anxious, like she was being poked with needles. It was probably because the extent of her physical contact with anyone in the past five-ish years had been Wade’s hugs. It couldn’t be that Cable looked fucking delicious even after a long-ass day of no-telling what he did during the day.

She took a sip of coffee and found the taste of that particular sip to be the best thing she’d ever put in her mouth. It was a welcome rush of heat after a long, long day. And she would probably enjoy it even more, but the problem was she couldn’t quite sit still.

“Are you hungry?” Vivian asked, leaving her coffee on the table and jumping up to open the fridge. She pulled out everything that looked kind of good - mostly just a loaf of bread and some peanut butter for sandwiches. She liked to cook, but she didn’t have time. And why she was pulling out food, she couldn’t say, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to do.

Cable smiled around the rim of his mug, taking a sip of his coffee. “Viv.”

“What?” she asked, halfway through pulling plates out of her cabinet.

“You nervous?” he asked gently, still smiling. She’d never seen him smile this much, not since she’d met him. It was a good look on him, soft against the otherwise rugged aesthetic.

“No, no, I just…” she realized that she was, in fact, fidgeting like a madwoman. “I’m the one who invited you in. I’m too fucking old to be nervous about…”

Cable lifted an eyebrow, sitting his mug down. “No, you’re not too old to be nervous. I’m nervous too, if it makes you feel better.”

"You don't show it."

"I've had a lot of practice hiding it.”

Well, if macho man can be nervous and admit to it, she supposed she could give him the same courtesy. Vivian pulled the plates down and closed the cabinet with a sigh. “I guess I am, too. It just feels… It’s strange to go from feeling like a sad teenager after a bad fight to… maybe having something after nothing at all for so long.”

“No stranger than falling for someone after losing your entire family.”

Vivian sighed. “Look, if I pushed this too far too soon -”

Cable stood up, making his way over to her. He tugged the plates out of her hand gently and put them down on the table. “Listen to me, Vivian. I want to be here. I wouldn’t have come in if I didn’t.”

“Especially not at 4AM.”

“Especially not at 4AM."

With that, Vivian reached up, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. This kiss wasn't like the first one they’d shared weeks ago - that one had been all closeness and heat and intimacy. This kiss was ravenous, hungry and a little desperate. Cable kissed back with just enough force to drive her back against the kitchen counter, bracing his palms against the marble countertop on either side of her.

The world was, at that moment, reduced to its barest form: Cable's mouth on hers, hard body pressing her back against the kitchen counter, and his insufferable inability to figure out what to do with his hands. Words were a silly idea, a logical fallacy of the highest order. And if her brain hadn't gone a little fuzzy, she'd be annoyed that she was still in the kitchen (trying to avoid getting smushed against the food sitting out) and not being fucked stupid into her own cozy mattress. No, in that moment she was really only annoyed that Cable still had clothes on.

After a few gasping breaths, Cable pulled back away from her. "I'm fine with doing this in the kitchen, but…"

"I think we're gonna need a bed if you let me do what I've got in mind," Vivian interjected, hands still cupping his face. His eyes were dark, and she could just barely see the glimmer of red behind his left eye.

He licked his lips, tongue gently poking out past his teeth. "I'm all yours, darlin’. Whatever you've got in mind."

Vivian wrapped his arms around his neck. "First room on the left down the hall."

Cable slid his arms underneath her ass and picked her up. "Yes, ma'am."

Cable must have had a little super-strength mixed in with his list of abilities because he didn’t stumble even once under their combined weight. He didn’t quite make it to the bedroom before Cable pressed her up against the wall, lips and teeth sucking at the hollow of her throat.

Vivian couldn’t seem to keep her hands off of his face. She pressed her palms to his cheeks so that she could draw him in for another kiss, unwilling to let him go long enough to let him take her the final three steps past the bedroom door.

“Wait just a second,” Cable gasped, pulling away just long enough hoist her up higher. "Let me adjust..."

“What’re you telling me to wait for?” Vivian asked, hooking a finger under his chin. “You’re the one who stopped at the door.”

Cable grinned, adjusted his grip on Vivian’s waist, and shoved open the bedroom door.

Vivian’s room was smartly furnished, if a little minimalist. There was a dresser shoved into one corner and a desk in the other. Not that it mattered - the only important bit of furniture in the room at that moment was the bed pushed against the back wall.

Cable collapsed on the bed, bringing Vivian down with him in a tangle of limbs, teeth, and tongue. She straddled his lap and pressed her hands against his chest, pulling away from him (if not a little unwillingly).

“Seriously, though,” she started. “It’s been, like, a long time since I’ve… and it wasn’t good last time and-”

“That’s alright,” Cable replied, brushing her hair back out of her face. “I think we both need to take it easy. We’ve got all night. Well, all morning.”

She'd never seen that look on a man's face before - a look of such understanding and tenderness that her breath caught in her throat. For all his gruff exterior, the manly macho attitude, he could empathize with her. This was different for both of them - him, after he'd essentially lost his family to the literal test of time and her, letting someone in for the first time in years.

"Thank you." Vivian hugged him. “For understanding."

"Nothin' to thank me for," Cable said. "This is new for me, too."

"We'll just take it slow."

He raised an eyebrow. He tended to like it slow anyway. "And that's not necessarily a bad thing."

Vivian shifted in his lap. She could feel his cock against her thigh through his clothes, half-hard and hot. "Not a bad thing at all."

Cable slid his hands up under her shirt and tugged it over her head before pulling his own shirt off. He picked her up against and twisted them around so that she was on her back, head almost knocking against the headboard, and he was wedged securely between her thighs.

Vivian watched him pull his shirt off. She wasn't fixated on the metal arm - she'd seen it more than a few times and had the techno-virus issue explained to her. She was a little fascinated by how far the virus extended over his body, but that could be chalked up to scientific fascination. No, what she was fixated on appealed to the very basic instinct of the little reptilian part of her brain that only thinks in terms of sex pleasure satisfaction want want want. He was fucking ripped.

Vivian wasted no time in running her hands along the corded muscle criss-crossing his body. "Are you kidding me? I haven't been to the gym in six months and you've got a fucking eight-pack. Are you even real?"

"Oh, I'm very real," Cable laughed and reached under her back to snap the clasp on her bra. "And I know the bra trick, too."

"You're not real. I'm dreaming." Vivian wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him close for another kiss. Yep, that was all of him pressed against her thigh now. "Well, I guess you are real."

"You're awfully chatty when you're worked up," Cable teased. "I don't think I've ever seen you this talkative."

"I talk a lot when I'm nervous."

“If you need me to stop, you say the word."

"Oh, no, I'm doing great right now." Vivian paused, shivering as Cable pressed his mouth just below her ear. "I talk a lot when I'm horny, too. So you really never know where it's coming from."

"Well, let's see if I can calm you down."

Cable crawled down her body, pressing kisses to her neck and down her chest, sucking bruises into her skin. His mouth slipped across one nipple and then the other, fingers pinching and pulling at the one not currently occupied by his mouth. Vivian raked her hands through his hair, holding his head in place as he grazed her nipple with his teeth.

She grabbed at his shoulders as he mouthed down her belly, all the way to her navel. He dipped his tongue just under the waistband of her pants before licking a stripe back up her body and biting her nipples again.

“You’re gonna kill me-”

Cable kissed her neck, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “Relax for me. I’ve got you.”

“Easier said than done, but I’ll do it for you.”

Cable trailed his lips back down her body, and this time, he didn’t stop at her waistband. He peeled her jeans off of her and threw them in a heap on the floor at the foot of the bed. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, spreading her thighs wide for him and bracing her hip with his nonhuman hand. It was cold against her skin at first but warmed up quickly.

He started down near her knees, trailing his lips up her inner thigh, sucking and biting as he went. He left marks up all the way up her thighs, then switched to the other just as his lips hovered over her cunt. She huffed when he started on her other thigh, impatient and needing relief.

He slid his fingers in, one after the other until he could fit three fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt. He pumped his hand slowly, pressing the pad of his thumb against her clit and moving in slow, even circles. He trailed his mouth along the line of her clit, tongue flicking out to press and tease her cunt. Vivian gripped his hair, fingernails scrabbling over the short military cut.

“Nate, come on, that’s enough teasing-”

The sound of his name got Cable to look up at her. He seemed surprised. “What did you call me?”

Vivian blinked, a hard twinge of fear stabbing through her stomach. “Sorry, I guess I should have asked first…”

“Say it again.”

“What?”

Cable stared up at her, eyebrows raised. “Say my name again.”

“You want me to call you ‘Nate?’”

“Yes,” he said, none too gently. His voice strained with want, as if just hearing her call his name tested his willpower.

And of course, that gave Vivian an idea. She had never been able to just relax in a situation, never been able to just lay back and enjoy what was being done to her. She needed a little control. In fact, that would probably help with the fluttering nervousness in her stomach.

“You like when I say your name?” Vivian asked, fingers scratching at the back of his scalp.

Cable crawled back up so that his hands were placed firmly on both sides of her head. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you show me how much you like it?” Vivian said, sitting up. She bent to kiss him, stretching up onto her elbows. She tasted herself on his lips.

“What have you got in mind?” Cable asked.

“Take your pants off and find out.”

Cable chuckled and did as she asked, stripping down until he was completely naked. She had him sit on the bed and straddled his lap, pushing him to lean back against the headboard.

Vivian braced herself on her knees, lowering herself down over his lap. She slid herself down over his cock, just brushing against him. He jumped as she lowered herself down, watching intently, his eye flashing red in the half-light. She gripped his shoulders for leverage and leaned down to bite his earlobe, the hollow of his throat, until she claimed his lips in another kiss. She rubbed his cock just enough to get him all slicked up and aching, until he was moaning in her ear.

“Jesus, that feels so good,” Cable breathed, gripping her hips. “You gonna fuck me, baby?”

“Maybe I’ll tease you until you say please,” Vivian replied, grinding down just a little harder.

“It won’t take much more, I can promise you that.”

Vivian eased up enough to sit back on his thighs and get herself positioned comfortably. She took the base of his cock in her hands, pumping gently - not that he needed any more help at this point. He was hard and flushed red from root to tip, heavy in her hand and ready for her to sink down on.

“Hold on,” Cable said, voice strained. “Condom?”

“Baby factory doesn’t work.”

“Then go for it.”

Vivian sank down on him, working herself down slowly so that she could stretch to accommodate his size. He was good and slicked up from her just rubbing on him, so it wasn’t a hard stretch. She heard him sigh, heard him call her name, before she lifted herself up and sank down on him again.

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed, leaning his head back against the headboard. His fingers dug into her hips, searching for anything to grab.

“You like that?”

“I like that.”

She sank down on him harder, deep as she could go, until he was almost lifting her up and slamming her back down himself. He called her name again, one right after the other, peppered in between fuck and yes and his deep, gruff groans. Finally, he grabbed her hips, lifted her off of him, and flipped her on her back, settling down between her legs. He slid his cock back in, looking for any kind of friction he could manage.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groaned in her ear. “So wet for me, baby. You want me to fuck you like this? Nice and hard like this?”

“Look who’s chatty now,” Vivian breathed, making him smile against her skin. “Keep fucking me, Nate.”

“Say that again.”

“Fuck me, Nate,” Vivian said, digging her nails into his back. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him in as close as she could. “Just like that.”

“My name sounds so good in your mouth, darlin’,” he said, slamming his hips against hers. “I’m close.”

Vivian nodded. “I’m ready.”

Cable pressed down against her so that they were chest to chest as he thrust once, twice, and came with her name in his mouth. Vivian followed right before him, squeezing every bit of him that she could manage with her hands as she clenched down around him. He rode out his release, pumping his hips slowly until he could ease out. He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing heavy, before kissing her forehead and rolling onto his side.

He ran his fingers down her side, following the line of her hip. “You okay?”

Vivian kissed him, throwing her leg over his. “Never better.”

----

They’d been asleep for maybe a couple of hours before a knock sounded at the door. Vivian wouldn’t have heard it at all had she been sleeping by herself, but it was hard to stay asleep when she wasn’t used to someone being in the bed next to her. Especially someone naked who looked as good as Cable did disheveled from sleep. Cable, on the other hand, was a light sleeper anyway and would have woken up from a pin dropping in the next room over.

Vivian rubbed her eyes and sat up on the edge of the bed. Cable grabbed her hip, scooting her in close to him. “Want me to get that?”

“No,” Vivian replied, standing up to stretch. She searched around for the first shirt she saw and something that kind of looked like shorts on her floor. “It’s 9AM. I guarantee I know who’s at my door.”

“If it’s that clown in the red suit-”

Vivian pulled on the clothes she found and bent down to kiss him good morning. “I will send him promptly on his way with no cookies, nor milk. Or coffee. That’s usually why he gets here this early.”

“Go get rid of him,” Cable replied, stretching before throwing the covers off of himself. “I’ll make breakfast after you slam the door in his face.”

“My hero.”

The knocking was getting louder and was now punctuated by Wade’s sing-songing voice. She almost wanted to see how long he would do it before either giving up or having the cops called on him. She could bet that calling the cops would happen before he gave up. But she wanted breakfast and five minutes awake with Cable before the both of them had to go get the day started.

Vivian opened the door and made sure to block the entrance so that Wade couldn’t push straight past her. “Can I help you?”

“Well, hello! Good morning to me.” Wade said, looking up Vivian up and down and whistling. “I was just in the neighborhood and noticed a blue truck parked next to your car in a place where there usually isn’t a blue truck. And I find you this morning wearing the shirt a certain Grumpy Daddy was wearing yesterday and a pair of boxers I guarantee you don’t own.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vivian said, grinning. “These are my pajamas.”

“Don’t you lie to me. You wear those Pikachu pants I bought you to sleep in.”

“Well, I wear these under the Pikachu pants.”

“Come on, McSteamy! You’ve got to tell me all about it!” Wade whined, on the verge of outright begging. “Viv, he’s still here this morning. I want all the dirty details, right on down to what Grumpypants says in bed.”

Vivian nodded, pretending to hear him out. “Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Viv, for the love of God, just say yes or no. Was the dick good?”

“Yes.”

And she promptly slammed the door in his face. She locked every lock so that there was no chance of him getting in short of literally breaking down her door. She could still hear him yelling out her name, trying to get her to come let him back in.

Vivian padded into the kitchen where she found Cable searching through her fridge. He was still naked, considering that she was wearing his clothes. “You won’t find much in there to make breakfast with, I’m afraid. I don’t have time to eat here that often.”

“There’s eggs and bacon. Looks like a good breakfast to me.”

Vivian sat down at the table and watched him get to work. He’d already set to making a pot of coffee. “I’m gonna put in some clinic hours today. Want to take a shower with me after breakfast?”

“Yes ma’am,” Cable replied, sitting down at the table across from her. He handed her a steaming mug of coffee and took one for himself. He peered over at the stove every now and then to check on the eggs and bacon. “I’ve got a job to do after lunch, but it won’t take me long.”

“So, I’ll see you tonight then?” Vivian asked,taking a sip from her mug.

“Mhm. And we’ll get a good night’s sleep after that.”

----

Vivian had put in her hours at the clinic and headed right over to Xavier’s mansion. She still had a month left of working her clinic hours, but after that she’d be moving permanently back into the mansion. As she walked down the hallways of her old home, she wondered if her room was occupied or if it had remained empty all these years. Surely Colossus had boarded another new trainee. Maybe she’d finally get a bigger room…

She sat down at the kitchen table with Colossus and waited for Wade to show up. He’d been living at the mansion for months now, ever since Colossus had pieced him back together after Vanessa’s death. Really, of all the people at the table, she was the one who should have been late - not Wade. And yet, he always seemed to run on his own schedule unless he had a job to do.

“So, this is what we are going to do,” Colossus said, clicking his pen. He’d been doodling on his notepad while he waited for Vivian to get comfortable and was more than done with waiting for Wade to pop in. “We are going to create a game plan.”

Just then, Wade popped into the kitchen. He plunked himself down at the table on the other side of Colossus, peering over the larger man’s shoulder. “Well, Uncle Wade’s coming along no matter what, so I’m just gonna sit in on this one.”

Colossus wrinkled his nose, the easiest way to determine that he thought something was a bad idea. “I am not sure that is a good idea, Wade.”

It usually wasn’t a great idea to bring Wade along on any mission that required tact, but Vivian kept her mouth shut on that one. She couldn’t take part, so she didn’t have much to contribute. This was Colossus’s area of expertise, not hers.

“I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? We knock on the door to take the bastard’s kids and he pulls a gun on us?” Wade asked, snorting. “I’ve got bad news for him.”

“He won’t be able to do anything,” Vivian said. She fidgeted with the edge of the tablecloth. It was something Colossus had picked out, clearly - it was minimalist and a little utilitarian, but it was clean and crisp from being freshly laundered. “The X-Men aren’t subject to the government. If you’re coming to get Benji and Shelly, Jack doesn’t have a choice but to give them up.”

Colossus scribbled with his pen. “Be that as it may, I am still not sure if you should be the one to go with me, Wade.”

“I’ll go.”

A voice sounded from the kitchen door, gruff and deep. The three turned to find Cable leaning against the doorway, fully dressed in his usual uniform of cargo pants, skin-tight t-shirt, and utility bag (Wade still wouldn’t give up the fanny pack joke - Vivian tended to agree but she didn’t mention it). He strode in and took a seat at the table next to Vivian, crossing his legs under the table.

“Well, howdy stranger,” Vivian grinned. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here,” he replied.

“You could have mentioned that,” Vivian said, bumping his shoulder with hers.

“You didn’t ask.”

Wade reached all the way around Colossus and clapped Cable on the back. “Glad to have you on board, Marty McFly! What a way to meet your new girlfriend’s kids, huh?”

“Are you sure about that, Cable?” Colossus asked, watching him carefully. Colossus still had a hard time trusting Cable, but he’d never made it known. He accepted that his wariness also came from a place of protectiveness, but Vivian was a big girl and could handle herself just fine.

Vivian mirrored Colossus’s concern. “I kind of agree with Colossus here. Wade can handle this just fine.”

Cable shrugged. “I’m not gonna kill the guy. Probably.”

“Hey, hey, I’m going whether Cable goes or not!” Wade snapped.

“Enough!” Colossus said, tearing the sheet out of his notepad and crumpling it up. “The three of us will go. We will keep this as peaceful as possible.”

“And if we get a few good headshots in, no harm done!”

Vivian smacked Wade’s arm. “If you traumatize my children, I will find a way to kill you.”

“Colossus will cover their eyes, Cable and I will take aim.”

Cable put his hand on the back of Vivian’s chair. “We’ll take care of it.”

“I trust you. All of you. On varying levels, but I can’t go with you so I’m going to have to trust you.”

[eternityunicorn]

Elijah’s Eternity: New Orleans Part Twenty Two +18

Author: eternityunicorn 

Genre: Romance/Drama/AU

Pairing: Elijah Mikealson x OC

Warnings: Some Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)

Summary: Sequel to the AU Elijah’s Eternity - Ten years have passed, a mournful Elijah has finally started to move on without his lady. In that time, he has gained a reunited family and has also found a new lady love. Yet, all is not well as danger comes for the smallest member of the Mikaelson family: Hope, and it prompts Niklaus to call upon the white goddess, drawing her back into Elijah’s life. As they reunite, can Elijah really say he’s truly moved on?

NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!

———————————————————————————————————

As Elijah predicted, abstaining from intimacy had been extremely difficult, especially since he hadn’t a need to hold back from his desires in the past. It was like having an addiction and trying to quit said addiction cold turkey verses doing so gradually. It was nearly impossible to do, even with impeccable control over oneself. And he had flawless control.

The first day had been particularly unbearable, but only because of the trauma he and Eternity had both faced just the day befriend. He had wanted her close, wanted her intimacy, to comfort them both, but with Kaname’s rule, they were forced to only give each other innocent touches and chaste kisses. These had been all fine and well, but he craved more. A feeling made worse as that night, they were also forced into separate chambers for rest. 

The second day had been much like the first, their interactions had been chaste and innocent to the point of driving Elijah to madness. Though, he did well in his management of keeping up appearances, keeping his inner torment masked behind his typical cool and collective exterior. Despite this act, however, he couldn’t help but to steal more kisses from his lady than usual and to give her seemingly innocent touches with hidden meaning every chance he got, whenever Kaname was otherwise occupied. It was their hidden language, their secret way of communicating their mutual desire for the other, while adhering to the priestess’s rules.

By the third day, the eve of their wedding, Elijah found himself a mess of need, joy, and excitement. Things that he couldn’t not share with his bride-to-be. The magically inclined Eternity kept herself busy with preparing the shrine for the wedding the following morning, before everyone started coming in from the other side of the world, along with Kaname and Fenrir. This left him to wander the grounds in a fitful ball of energy, praying for a distraction from all the pent up emotions welling up inside that he hadn’t a satisfactory release for.

Fortunately, his saving distraction came when his siblings began to arrive at the shrine. First it was Rebekah and Marcel with Kol and Davina. Then Finn and Sage with Freya and Keelin. Finally, Niklaus and Hayley arrived with young Hope soon after his older brother and sister. The reunion between Niklaus, Hayley, Hope with everyone else had been something to celebrate and certainly took Elijah’s mind off his struggles to abstain from his need for intimacy with Eternity. 

He spent his time with his whole reunited family, a joy in itself. Everyone was curious to know how life under the mysterious Underground Agency had been for the hybrid couple and their daughter since they rarely communicated due to the safety measures in place for their daughter. 

Niklaus spoke of intense training that he and Hayley had gone through as per the upcoming higher order ritual Eternity wished to perform, getting a head start on everyone else in that department. Even Hope had gone through rigorous teachings to make herself stronger as a Mikaelson witch.

“I never knew my true potential until I went to the Agency,” Elijah’s brother told him and their siblings. “I am a whole new creature already and I cannot wait to see how much further my future sister-in-law’s spell will take me, my wife and child, and all of you, of course. We shall all be of a new breed of being in this world.”

“I still think it is a terrible idea to let you have more power, Niklaus,” Finn piped up in that cynical way of his. “Same with Kol. The two of you are the most chaotic and monstrous of us. I fear it might be a mistake to allow either of you access to such greater strength, but who am I to question the will of a goddess.”

“Yes, it is a good thing this is not your decision to make, my dear Finn,” Elijah replied with a tight smile, before Niklaus or Kol could respond. “My beloved bride-to-be knows what she is doing. If our more adventurous siblings get too far out of line, I am certain she will put them in their much deserved places. Though something tells me that both shall forever remain on their best behaviors, as neither would want to feel the wrath of the Universal Queen.” He eyed his younger siblings meaningfully.

“Hey, I’m not the murder happy lunatic I was,” Kol defended himself, as he threw an arm around Davina who stood beside him. “I found a reason to temper my violent bloodlust,” he said as he gazed lovingly at the witch.

Niklaus put his hand on his heart with the most serious expression etched upon his face, “I swear to never abuse the powers and strengths granted to me by the gracious and merciful Universal Queen.”

“And you better hold to that vow, Niklaus,” called Eternity suddenly, as she approached the Mikealson clan, coming to stand beside Elijah. 

Niklaus nodded to her, “I swear it that I will uphold the vow made, just as I uphold always and forever.”

The well-dressed Original had to shove his hands in his pants pockets to keep from the temptation of whisking her away to do unmentionable things to her, but Elijah still smiled affectionately at her as she touched his arm in affection. 

“Have you finished your preparations for tomorrow morning, Sweetheart?” He asked her.

“Aye, we are all set for our wedding,” she replied brightly. “It shall be a splendid affair.”

“Uni!” Shouted Hope as the child caught eye of the immortal queen and came running over to hug Eternity tightly. 

“Hope!” The ethereal beauty bent to the girl’s level and embraced her just as tightly, before pulling back and holding the child at arms length. She grinned mischievously as she said, “I have missed you, young one. Come. Run with me!”

Stepping back away from Elijah, Eternity grinned and then changed shape right before all their eyes. With a loud musical sound, the unicorn took the place of the woman and the strange white beast didn’t waste time in racing off toward the woods. Young Hope laughed and went after her, while her family looked on with a mix of wonder, awe, and concern.

They all watched with fascination as the forest seemed to awaken from sleep upon the unicorn’s entrance. The quiet woods transformed into a lively place, bright and beautiful under the power of the mythical creature. It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen, save for Elijah, of course.

There were a lot of sniffles that waffled into the air even after the unicorn had raced off. Elijah’s siblings and their significant others all wiped their eyes of tears that had sprung up, curious and concerned as to why that was happening to them. Elijah felt teary eyed as well, but was certainly more prepared for that automatic reaction to the sight of the unicorn than the others.

“Bloody hell,” Kol said as he scrubbed the tears from his face. “What sorcery is this?”

“It’s not sorcery, just a natural response to seeing a unicorn,” chuckled Elijah, as he took his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and wiped his own eyes. “I’m not sure why it happens, only that it does when faced with the powerful sight of a unicorn.”

Hayley, with a slightly concerned expression as she dabbed her eyes dry, turned to Elijah, “Will Hope be alright out there?”

The older Original nodded, “Yes, she is with Eternity. There is nobody whom can protect her better than the powerful Universal Queen. You have nothing to fear.”

Realizing she was being silly right away, the female hybrid nodded back rapidly, “Yeah, yeah, right. Sorry, it’s just that I’m a little paranoid, I guess, with this Bruno person wanting to take Hope’s powers. I don’t feel very safe being outside of the protection of the Underground Agency, not after all the witch, vampire, and wolf killings that have happened because of that monster.”

“There is nowhere safer than these woods, my dear,” called Kaname suddenly, as she came to greet the newcomers. “That fiendish maniac Bruno wouldn’t dare to try and enter this sacred place. At least, not after what happened the last time he made such an attempt.” She smirked mysteriously. “Dark creatures, like him and some of you lot, are typically not allowed in this holy place, but I made a special exception for you lot, per my cousin’s request. Nothing unholy can penetrate this sacred place without my permission.”

At everyone’s curious looks in face of yet another Eternity clone, Elijah stepped up to introduce the miko, “Everyone, this is Kaname, Eternity’s cousin. She is our gracious host and will be the one to perform the wedding in the morning.”

Greetings were passed around quickly as everyone quickly dismissed the fact that Kaname was very much a clone of Elijah’s bride-to-be, just as Hel was. They were getting used to the idea that there was a strong family resemblance in Eternity’s family. 

Speaking of resemblances, Fenrir, the male version of Eternity, soon joined them as well, greeting everyone shyly in an awkward teen sort of way. He came to stand by him, choosing to be close to someone familiar with all the newcomers of whom remained unfamiliar.

From there, everyone settled in. There was talk and celebration of the joyous occasion that was to come in the morning. Elijah felt himself relax a great deal with the distraction of his family. It helped that his lady was elsewhere, far out of his reach, for the time being.

While he had kept occupied with his family, Eternity and Hope had been off on an adventure through the forest and they didn’t return to the shrine until sundown. When they did, Elijah’s niece was covered in dirt and grime, while the unicorn remained untouched by the filth of nature. The child had come back quite happy, giddy in fact, from whatever activities they had gotten themselves into in the hour or so that they had been gone. 

Hayley had insisted that Hope take a bathroom seeing her dirty child, which had dampened the girl’s good mood a little. However, Elijah’s niece did as her mother asked and went into the shrine to bathe. Kaname followed them to help out and to also prepare dinner, particularly for the non-vampires amongst the group, whom needed human food to survive. 

Niklaus had informed his vampire siblings that he had brought along an ample amount of blood bags for them, supplied to him by the staff at the Underground Agency. Therefore, nobody would need to go hunting in town for sustenance, while they were in Tokyo. It was best not to stir up trouble, Elijah’s brother had said.

That was good, especially for Elijah, whom hadn’t been able to feed off of Eternity during their period of abstinence. He wouldn’t be able to until after their wedding the next day. This was mostly because the temptation to take things further would be too great, if he did, as his lady tended to get off on his feeding from her. The sweet scent of her resulting arousal would drive him to take her completely without hesitation. 

So, to adhere by Kaname’s rules, it was best to not even tempt fate by taking her blood. Fortunately, Elijah hadn’t felt the hunger since arriving, after he had fed from Eternity in the back of the car that had brought them to the shrine and had remained subdued thus far. At least, he only had to make it a night more before he could resume feeding from his lady.

Not wanting to let his mind wander to the erotic memories that threaten to come to the forefront of his mind at the mention of the car incident, for the rest of the evening, he continued to occupy himself with the consistent talk amongst his family. In celebratory mode, drinks and laugher were abound as everyone sat down to a delicious dinner, magicked together by Kaname and Fenrir. 

Though the shrine was small, there was just enough room to flit everyone around the low set table for dinner. It was a tight fit, but they made do with being in such close quarters. Eternity had returned to her womanly form and sat next to Elijah with her son sitting on the other side of her. Niklaus sat on the other side of himself.

The chatter was pleasant and full of questions about Kaname, such as how old she was and why she continued to live on Earth, despite the laws that had separated the ancient immortals from the  the mortal world. The miko answered all their questions politely with a bit of amusement coloring her voice as she did. Something that reminded Elijah so much of Eternity, as she had that same look upon her face when she had first met his siblings.

The older Original listened with fascination as Kaname explained that she was over ten thousand years old, had lived during Ceres’ time, and had chosen to remain on Earth because it was her home that no other world could replace. Though that wasn’t the on,y reason. She had chosen to dedicate her life to helping mortals whom were desperately in need of divine intervention. She enjoyed humans and want to help them in one way or another, even if she only helped in small individual doses. 

Eventually, the meal and conversations wound down. Eternity took the opportunity to excuse herself, heading outside. She cast a glance at Elijah before she did so that was full of hidden meaning. 

Curious, Elijah followed, slipping away stealthily as to not arouse Kaname’s suspicious eye. The miko had made it a point to ensure the pair behaved themselves until the wedding; an annoyance, but an understandable one. She had become their designated babysitter during the past few days.

He found his lady standing underneath the torii gate gazing up at the stars that had begun to appear in the darkening sky. Elijah went to her, coming to stand behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. He pulled her back against him with his head against the side of hers. He felt her hand come up and cover his while the other moved to cup the back of his head, holding him there. 

“And just why have you come out here, Sweetheart?” He asked her softly.

“I simply wanted to enjoy the nighttime...and I was hoping you would get the hint to follow me,” Eternity replied coyly, the smile evident in her voice. She turned in his embrace and kissed his lips sweetly. “I wanted a moment alone with you. We haven’t had much of that, not with the wedding preparations and Kaname’s insistent hovering. She takes tradition seriously, perhaps too much so.”

Elijah had to agree there. Though with his lady so close, he found it hard to keep his impulsive desires at bay. The struggle returned quickly with her nestled between his arms, her body nearly flush with his own. Perhaps the miko was in the right mind in keeping their interactions to a minimum.

Then Eternity smiled seductively and the Original knew he was in trouble. Her lips were upon his needfully with her arms wound around his neck and her fingers threaded through his hair. 

He gave in without hesitation, unable to resist her. He pried her mouth open with his tongue and diving in to taste her throughly. He pressed he closer, wanting to feel her body against his fully in ways he hadn’t been able to in days - ones that he still wouldn’t be able to until the following day.

“You have no idea how much I want you,” he growled against her lips, before resuming his plundering of her mouth.

“I think I do,” Eternity replied breathlessly, once she could will her mouth from his, just as one of her naughty little hands travelled down his front, over his chest to his abdomen to his clothed hardness.

Elijah gasped at the suddenness of her caress, having not anticipated her grabbing him so boldly. Then he hissed as she palmed him through his pants. It was enough to drive him to forget Kaname’s conditions for performing the wedding ceremony and have his bride-to-be as he had been wanting to for days.

Eternity was a bad influence, he concluded, and the chink in his self-control.

“Eternity,” he ground out, as he reigned in his control. 

Elijah willed himself to catch her misbehaving hand and pulled it away from his person. His gaze was surely fiery as he stared at her while he lifted the offending hand and kissed the palm tenderly. Then he returned it to it’s place around his neck. 

“You are going to be the death of me, I swear it,” he breathed with a wicked grin. “I cannot wait until after our wedding, because then this horrid abstinence period will be over and I shall take great joy in ravaging you completely.”

Eternity shivered pleasurably at his tone of dark promises and smiled. She kissed him with just as much seductive passion as before, while Elijah swore inwardly at her insistence to tempt him, to test him this way. She knew well that he wouldn’t allow for things to go further, no matter how much he wanted to. 

Still, Elijah allowed her to kiss him hungrily, letting her taste him as she pleased, before returning her affections tenfold by shoving her tongue out of his mouth and diving into hers with a need like no other. One of his hands wandered over the silkiness of her white and purple kimono, skimming over her breasts, kneading the flesh through the fabric. The other cupped the side of Eternity’s neck, holding her firmly while he plundered her mouth.

Things quickly grew heated all over again and Elijah found himself nearly lost to the passion that burned between them this time. Control be damned.

“Cousin!” Kaname’s stern voice called, snuffing out the passionate fire immediately. “Mr. Mikaelson!” 

As the guilty parties turned to face her, the priestess put her hands on her hips, like a parent that had just caught her children doing something they shouldn’t be. She looked very displeased with the little make out session they had been engaged in.

Instantaneously, Eternity pulled away from him and had enough sense to look sheepishly at her cousin, though it was obvious that she didn’t regret their moment together. Meanwhile, Elijah put his hands in his pants pockets and gazed at the older immortal with slight bashfulness and a hint of smugness. He certainly didn’t regret it either. Their moment together had been worth it.

“Forgive me, cousin,” Eternity said with a slight bow of her head, though by her tone, it was obvious she didn’t actually mean it. 

“Come inside, right now,” Kaname insisted and then chastised, “You two cannot be left alone. No self-control.”

The couple gazed at each other, before they broke out into smiles and light laughter as they made their way back inside the shrine. The whole while Eternity’s cousin lectured them as they followed her back to the others, where Elijah’s siblings began to tease them for whatever they had gotten themselves in trouble for.

Elijah let their teasing  slide off of him, as he found himself too distracted by the woman next to him, as they retook their seats at the low table. He simply couldn’t wait until the following morning, when Eternity would finally be his wife and they could finally start their life together as one unit. 

If only morning would hurry up and arrive sooner to put him out of his misery. 

To Be Continued....

———————————————————————————————————

Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @rissyrapp20 @mikaelson-trash @dendrite-lover @inmylifeilovedthemall @elejahforever @xanderling @hawaiianohana15 @missnmikealson @phoenix-potter-bailey @lolelijahishot @x-memi12 @iamaquarius2 @echosnowflake666 @scarlettsky0998 @zillahvathek @elijahandkollover

[diveronarpg]

In fair Verona, our tale begins with HENRY ZHANG, who is TWENTY-EIGHT years old. He is often called HAMLET by the MONTAGUES and works as their CAPTAIN. He uses HE/HIM pronouns.

TW: ALCOHOLISM, DEATH

The Zhang’s have reigned at the right hand of the Montagues for as long as anyone can remember. Some say they built this city with their bare hands; others say they were so instrumental in its beginning that the bones of their sons and daughters laid the foundation for the kingdom all bear witness to today. More significant than what they were, however, is what they’ve become: powerful in a way few families are—PUPPETEERS in the most elaborate show Verona has ever seen. Born the sole heir to a throne of gold and a legacy centuries in the making, Henry Zhang’s has borne the weight of GREATNESS on his shoulders since he learned what the word meant. His father was something of a god among men, revered by many and regarded as an equal by the king of Verona himself, and his mother was nothing short of a force to be reckoned with in her own right, beautiful and cunning and lethal. He’d been given everything he could’ve possibly wanted as a child, but the most extravagant gift they ever bestowed on him was their EXPECTATIONS. From a young age, he learned to reconcile the fact that his life would never be wholly his own; part of it would always belong to the men and women who’d made the Zhang name one to remember.

But coming to terms with his fate wasn’t the only lesson Henry took away from his childhood. He was a fast learner; no one could deny that he’d inherited his mother’s wit and his father’s eye for strategy. He was given the finest education money could buy and an even better education that it couldn’t, and like his father had before him, he took advantage of both, but the former only shaped what he knew. The latter shaped who he was: a man raised to be both the storm and the fortress that withstands it—the intellect behind the war and the attack that defies that intellect. He was taught to be his greatest ally and worst enemy, and he played the second role best. He often found himself DECAYING with indecision, a byproduct of a well-trained mind that refuses to trust even itself wholeheartedly and a vice he’s yet to outgrow, but perhaps the worst trait he acquired by watching his father was Howard’s DEPENDENCE on the bottle. Those who hadn’t spoken to the Zhang heir behind closed doors might’ve chalked it up to a craving for liquid courage that he lacked, but those closest to him knew better: Henry was no coward. He found it EXHILARATING, the ability to make a choice—a reckless choice, a stupid choice—without pausing to second-guess himself even for a moment. Alcohol reduced the chaos in his head to little more than a fog and brought his warring thoughts to a stalemate, and such clarity allowed him to climb the ranks of the mob with little help from his father, save for his name. But what was once his salvation may very well become his RUIN, and he knows, deep down, that if he wants to be the son his parents always wanted him to be—the man he’s always wanted to be, he needs to overcome it. But it’s never been that simple. A tactician called upon by kings to do their bidding, he’s waged more wars within himself than the world would ever care to fight, and he’s no closer to understanding the art than the day he began. It’s one thing to win a war and another thing entirely to escape it unscathed, and his opponent is RUTHLESS.

It was a KNIFE in the back—and not the liquor—that was ultimately his father’s end, and it was the revelation that his murder might not have been an outside job that prompted his only son to weigh his duty to the mob against his duty to his father—and both of those against his duty to himself. He’s earned his position among the Montagues—earned the title of Captain by giving of himself in ways others wouldn’t dare, but no member, no matter how much they’ve climbed, could be forgiven of what his responsibility to his father—to his name—demands that he do. It’s BLASPHEMY, it’s treason, and it’s the last thing he and the mob need in the wake of a full-blown war with the Capulets, but failing to avenge his father is its own sort of betrayal. He’s won many a battle, made many a move, but this is one war he’s not sure he’ll survive.

CASSIAN BHATT: Envy. He is the reason Henry is so intimately familiar with the taste of envy. Cassian Bhatt shares many of Henry’s qualities; he is ambitious, confident, and successful. Has built a castle for himself in which he so comfortably resides with seemingly no care in the world. And that is the crux of the problem. If only Henry could reach such level of apathy, such level of being at peace with one’s self in all its qualities and flaws. If only he could create his own castle with merely his demons and vices for company. If only. That is all it will ever come to for someone like him—a husk of a man cowering behind a princely exterior that has all but turned into a shell, with too much power in his hands and too much weight on his shoulders. None of those facts are Cassian’s fault nor are they even remotely connected to the man and yet, Henry envies him anyway. Such an ugly, addictive taste it is.

GENEVIEVE ZHANG & CRISTIAN DE LUCA: Mother & Uncle. Blood runs thicker than water, but only one of them shares his blood. His mother is his rock, the only immediate family he’s got left, and he’d put a bullet through the brain of anyone who tried to hurt her, though he’s certain she’d beat him to it. She’s his equal in rank but far superior in age and experience, and the value of her input is not lost on him. Still, he can’t seem to shake the feeling that she’s hiding something—that they both are, although he’s far more critical of his uncle than of her. Cristian has never given him a solid reason not to trust him, but his father’s adopted brother has always had an air of quiet envy about him, and he’s never looked more smug than he did in mourning black. Henry is careful; he’s hesitant to allocate blame without knowing with absolute certainty that it’s deserved, but make no mistake: if his uncle is as guilty as he seems, his days are numbered. HECTOR RIVERA & ROMAN MONTAGUE: Best Friends. There’s a certain brotherhood that forms among those raised in the mob, and Henry doesn’t remember a time when the two men weren’t at his side. He seldom makes a decision without consulting Hector; his best friend’s thoughts are worth more than gold, and though there are few things Henry is absolutely certain of, one is this: he’d lay down his life for the Rivera man, and he knows he’d return the favor. He and the Montague heir grew close as a result of late nights spent together as children, playing silly games while their fathers talked business in the next room, and over the years, he’s come to appreciate having someone who even remotely understands the burden of being the son of a powerful man. He doesn’t envy Roman; he never has, for he knows that when the Montague man eventually takes over, he’ll share in his power. Like fathers, like sons. ODESSA VERNON: Interest. They grew up together, the thoughtful only child of a respected advisor and the gentle daughter of a formidable underboss, and though they’ve never been as close as he and Roman, he can’t deny that he’s got an ally in her—a friend. She’s one of the most brilliant people he’s ever met, but like the moon, part of her has always been hidden. Henry’s always chalked her quiet, humble disposition up to her compensating for her elder brother’s arrogance, but he’s noticed a change in her since her father was found shot to death in his chambers a few weeks ago, and now, he’s not so sure. She’s bolder now—sharper, and he sometimes swears he sees the same hunger in her dark eyes as he does when he looks in the mirror: retribution. Freedom. He’s not sure what the emissary has up her sleeve, but it’s intriguing to watch a girl he’s known all his life become a woman he’s not sure he recognizes.

Henry is portrayed by YANG YANG and was written by BREE. He is currently TAKEN by ROGUE.

[shoarokay]

Sean MacGuire x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Past Abuse

Word Count: 3576

Summary: Sean is a sweetheart but only shows that side to you.

On Ao3

It's not that you hadn't noticed the way Sean looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention. It's not that you hadn't noticed how touchy he was with you or the flirting, the damn flirting. Then again he flirted with everyone, even Arthur, though that was mostly because Arthur hated it.

You knew that he and Karen had had some brief thing but Karen didn't think much of it and, according to her gossip, it hadn't brought her much joy. "He was as bad a fuck as he is at everything else, if you can believe!" She threw her head back laughing. She quickly moved onto the fruitless task of trying to get Charles into bed.

For all his bluster, you thought Sean was sweet. He could be a loud mouth, well, he was mostly a loud mouth, but underneath his rowdy exterior, he had a kind heart and he loved the gang, you included. You weren't sure if anyone else saw it but you did.

Knowing all of this, when Sean approached you and all but asked to sleep with you, you hesitated. You hadn't slept with anyone in the gang. The idea of everyone swapping partners and telling each other about their exploits made your stomach turn a little. You weren't a prude exactly, you had had many sexual experiences but it felt somewhat incestuous to you, the gang was family.

"No, darlin', I really mean sleep!" Sean laughed and adjusted his hat. "I can't stand the idea of another night next to 'ol Bill Williamson and you've got this big cozy tent all to yerself. Help out poor Sean, will ya?" He gave you a wink.

"Alright but no funny business. Sleep only." You replied firmly. What harm could it do if he promised to only sleep?

"Ya got my word, MacGuire Junior will stay safely tucked away." Sean gave you a salute. He took your hand and led you into the tent.

The cot wasn't exactly big enough for the two of you and so Sean placed his bedroll on the floor of the tent and you took your spot on the cot. He was surprisingly quiet as you both settled under your blankets.

"G'night Mr. MacGuire. Sleep well." You whispered in a low voice, turning onto your side towards him.

"Sweet dreams, my love." You could vaguely see his smile in the darkness.

------

"You! GET OVER HERE!" The man grabbed you by your hair and dragged you across the hardwood floor. "I said CLEAN. Does this look clean to you?" He slammed your face against the small spot marring the otherwise pristine floor. "I asked you a question, girl. You best answer."

"I-I tried to clean it, sir, but the spot wouldn't come up..." You stuttered, your heart racing. Your face ached as you could feel it already starting to swell.

"Doesn't seem like you tried very hard. I only keep you around to keep this place clean and if you ain't doin' that there ain't no point, is there? Might as well sell you to a man like I did your sister." You knew the kind of man that bought girls and women, what they were subjected to.

"N-No. No please! I'll clean it, I swear!" Tears were streaming down your bruised face. He pulled you up by your hair and slammed you against the wall, his fist reeling back to hit you across the face.

-----

"Please." You sobbed, shaking. "No." You felt warmth, a hand cupping your face, thumb brushing over your cheek.

"Shhh shhh," Sean gathered you into his arms as he climbed onto the cot. "Hush now."

You were awake now, still shaking as Sean tightened his hold around your body, his hand stroking your hair softly. The nightmares weren't new, they happened most nights, but you never spoke to anyone about them. It was your secret, why you left, how you ended up with the gang. You didn't want anyone to see you as weak. You'd proven you could hold your own with the best of them, but that fear still nipped at the back of your neck.

"S-Sean..." You choked as you tucked your face against his neck. It was difficult to breathe, your chest was heaving and your throat felt dry.

"'M here darlin'. I've got ya." His voice was soothing. You'd never heard him use this tone with anyone before. "Just breathe."

You tried to focus on your breaths. In...out...in...out...in...out. Sean breathed deeply too, matching your breaths. You focused on him now. In...out...in...out...in...out. He continued to hold you and stroke your hair through your panic. Minutes passed and only the sound of your inhales and exhales could be heard in the quiet of the tent.

"I'm so sorry," You looked up at him, your breathing finally coming back to normal. You felt utterly embarrassed.

"What's there to be sorry for?" Sean smiled down at you, his voice was still calm and quiet.

"I bet you'd prefer 'ol Bill Williamson after this," You let out a self deprecating laugh.

"I can't picture a world where I'd prefer Bill Williamson to you, darlin'" Sean let out a soft chuckle and he gently pressed his lips to your forehead.

You were exhausted. The panic had worn you out and the warmth of Sean's body wrapped around you, his slow steady breathing, lulled you back to a deep sleep before you could say any more.

-----

You woke up alone and were slightly shocked at the disappointment you felt in your heart at that fact. Then you immediately felt shame. He had seen you at your worst and you hadn't even thanked Sean for helping you through last night. Despite his kind words you had a nagging feeling he probably wouldn't be hanging around you much anymore.

You quickly dressed and exited your tent to see you were the last one in camp to wake. The place was busy with your fellow gang members already hard at work. You spent most of the day in camp, choosing to work on solitary tasks; mending shirts, washing dishes, helping tend the horses, rather than interact with the others. Though you slept well, you couldn't bring your thoughts away from Sean and how he had taken care of you during the night. He was surprisingly sweet, calming you down in minutes rather than the hours it normally took when you were by yourself and even then you were left with an uneasy stomach for the rest of the day.

You felt like you owed him so much, but you were unsure how to repay him. It turned out it didn't really matter as the day quickly passed and you hadn't seen Sean or even heard him, which was the more likely to happen before the actual seeing.

You let out a sigh as you stepped into your tent and closed the flap behind you. It was warm and you began undressing in favor of a light weight shift to sleep in. As soon as you dropped your dress to the ground, the tent flap flew open. Your back was to the entrance but you still covered your naked body with your hands as you looked over your shoulder, letting out a displeased noise as you took in Sean's flushed face.

"Sean!" You scowled at him, pulling the shift on as quickly as you could before turning to face him.

"Ah ha," He laughed somewhat awkwardly. "Good evening to you Miss."

"What are you doing in here?" You crossed your arms over your chest. The thin fabric of the shift left little to the imagination.

"I -ah- thought ya might appreciate a little company." He shuffled between his feet, unsure what to do. There was a beat. "I'll be goin' then."

He turned on his heel to exit, but you grabbed his wrist. "Come on then. You ain't gotta leave."

He stepped further into the tent, pausing to remove his hat, coat and boots as you climbed onto your cot. Pulling the blankets over you, you rolled onto your side, your back to him. You heard the sounds of him continuing to undress. After a few moments, you felt the blanket lift as he slid in behind you, pulling you against him. You let out a little gasp at the contact.

"Is this alright?" He asked hesitantly. You could feel his breath against your neck and couldn't help the warm feeling blooming in your belly at the sensation.

"Ah, yes." You said after a moment, trying to shift your thoughts. "It's fine." He took your words as encouragement, moving to hold you tighter than before. Then you felt it, his erection pressed flush against your backside. You stiffened at the feeling.

"Sean..." You spoke his name as a warning, wriggling a little in his hold.

"Sorry, darlin'. I ain't mean anythin' by it." You felt his hand go between you to readjust himself. "Just seein' yer beautiful body got MacGuire Junior here a bit excited."

"It's a-alright. Just...I meant what I said, you hear? No funny business." You tried to keep your voice calm, but you couldn't deny that just feeling his excitement had you more than a little excited yourself. Feeling his warmth wrapped around you reminded you just how long it had been since you'd laid with a man. But you had to stick to your guns. You didn't want a fling and certainly not with someone you had to see every day.

"O' course. Understood." He gave you a light kiss on your hair as you relaxed back into him, closing your eyes. That night the nightmares didn't come.

-----

It had been two weeks since Sean started sleeping your tent every night and you hadn't had a nightmare since. The two of you were able to keep it hidden from the others. They had assumed that Sean was off in town staying at the saloon. He would sneak in after everyone was asleep and be out in the morning before the others had woken. You began to look forward to sleeping just so you and Sean could have your time together. It made you feel silly, but his contact comforted you, made you feel loved, even if that wasn't what it was.

It was a cool evening as you sat by the fire, sewing a patch into an old pair of Arthur's pants. You couldn't help the smile that was on your face even as you worked.

"It's nice to see a smile on your pretty face, hermosa," Javier sat down beside you.

"Oh. Hello Javier." You greeted him, still smiling. "How are you?"

"Better for seeing you." He leaned in towards you, whispering in your ear. "You wouldn't want to take a walk with me, would you?"

"A walk?" You leaned away slightly, giving him a look of confusion. "Where to? Do you need help with a job?"

"No, bonita flor, I thought maybe we could spend some time together." Javier placed his hand on your thigh, sliding it higher as kept speaking. "...alone."

"Ah. I..." You were at a loss for words. Javier had never made a move on you before or even given you any kind of special attention. Why now? And how could you let him down gently without a real excuse?

"Just what do you think you're doin'?" Sean came up on you both so fast that you hadn't seen or heard him coming. He threw Javier's hand off your thigh with a scowl and grabbed you by the wrist, causing your sewing supplies to drop into the dirt.

"Sean!" You shouted as you were dragged away. You looked back to see a smirk on Javier's face, causing you to trip over your own feet. Sean caught you and righted you, continuing his pace as you were pulled along behind him.

"Yer lookin' a bit ill, Miss, maybe you best have a lie down!" He yelled in all directions, making sure everyone heard him as he pulled you inside your tent.

He released you as soon as you were both safely inside.

"Sean! What in the hell was that?" You flushed red as you tried to calm yourself down.

"I could ask ya the same thing!" Sean stepped closer to you and you could feel the heat radiating off his body. "Why was Javier puttin' his dirty hands all over ya?"

"I don't know, but it's not as though I asked him to." You said quietly, sitting down on the cot. You felt a little bad about your knee jerk reaction at what was clearly concern for your well being.

"Ya didn't?" Sean sat down beside you, a look of genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"Why would I?" You were a little offended at the would be accusation. "You can't be serious. Javier?"

"Well, I thought..." He paused, letting out a breath. A smile quickly made its way onto his face. "Guess that was a bit silly 'o me."

"Yes, it was." You rolled your eyes. "Now, should we get ready for bed?"

------

"No, no, no. Please! I'll do anything you ask!"

Your heart felt as though it could leap out of your chest at any moment. Breathing felt impossible, oxygen turning to thick poison in your lungs as you tried to inhale. You felt heavy, numb, like you were falling endlessly into darkness.

Something warm caught you, embraced you. Soft, sweet words whispered. Light fingers stroking your cheek.

You opened your wet eyes, looking up to see the face that had become a source of comfort and calm for you. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as he held you to his chest.

"Sean..." You let out a choked noise. He made a shushing noise against your hair. You could see his features bathed in the soft moonlight that was seeping through the cracks in the fabric of the tent. He looked beautiful like this and you knew you couldn't stop yourself or hold yourself back anymore.

You slowly leaned in to press a lingering kiss against his lips. He responded to you immediately as he licked at your bottom lip. You let out a quiet whimper, opening yourself to him. He moaned into your mouth as you sucked lightly on his tongue.

You could feel his chest heaving against you as he pulled away. "A-Are you sure? I mean, is this alrigh'?"

You didn't answer, instead, you sat up to pull your shift over your head, tossing it to the ground. He rolled you onto your back, cradling your head as he leaned over to press a chaste kiss to your lips, then your cheek, your neck, shoulder, your chest. He swiped his tongue across your nipple, causing you take inhale sharply as he closed his mouth around the peak and sucked gently. Reveling in the moan it coaxed from you, he pushed his body flush against you and you could feel his hardness through his clothes.

"Take these off." You pulled at the offending garments, making an impatient noise. He quickly did as asked, undressing faster than you thought possible. You inwardly smirked and felt a bit proud that he wanted you so badly as he slid back onto the cot.

You felt Sean's hand on your hip, his long fingers moving down to stroke at the skin of your inner thigh. "So soft." He murmured as he nuzzled his face into your neck. "What about here?" He inched his fingers up higher, torturously slow. "Or here?" Higher and higher up your thigh until the tips of his fingers reached their destination.

He dipped his fingers down to your opening, groaning at the realization that you were already so wet for him. “That’s my girl.” He pressed his palm against your clit with firm pressure, slowly moving his wrist in circles as he stoked the fire already starting in your belly.

Sean rubbed at you, coating his fingers in your wetness, before sinking two into you. You moaned openly as he started to slowly fuck you with his fingers.

"Like that, do ya?" You could hear the smile on his lips.

You swallowed and nodded, letting out a shaky breath.

"Can I..." He pulled his hand away, chuckling at the little whine that left your lips. "Can I taste ya?"

"Y-You want to do that?" You questioned. In your experience, very few men had asked to put their mouths on you and his interest surprised you.

"Been wantin' to for a long while, darlin'." Sean took your words as encouragement, moving lower on the cot.

He slid his fingers into you again as his licked around your clit. His technique was a little messy, but you were already so turned on that it didn't take much to push you to the edge. A few firm swipes of his tongue against you and you were coming hard, walls contracting around his fingers as a low moan of his name escaped your lips.

"Beautiful..." He murmured as he looked up at you, pressing one more lingering kiss to your sensitive clit.

"God, Sean." You sighed, brushing away the hair that stuck to the dampened skin of your face.

He didn’t give you time to fully come down from your orgasm before entering you, filling you completely with a groan. He stilled waiting a moment for you to both adjust to each other.

He began to move slowly, thrusting deep into your tight heat. “Ya feel so good, love, I d-don’t know how long I can last.” He stuttered, his breathing was already labored.

“Come here.” You whispered, pulling him by the back of his neck into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. He stilled his movement, groaning into your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whimpered against your lips.

“It’s alright.” You smiled at him. “Let yourself go.”

He didn’t hold back, fucking into you while he continued to kiss you, only breaking away when he could no longer focus, his thrusts getting shaky as he approached his end. He let out a low groan as his cock pulsed, twitching as he released deep inside you. Your walls squeezed him in return and he let out another long moan against your neck.

He pulled out of you and rolled onto his side. “Fuck, darlin’” He leaned over to stroke your cheek. “Ya should be arrested for tryin’ ta kill a man.”

You let out a small laugh as you leaned in to give him a peck on the lips. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

“Are you done now? Some of us are tryin’ to sleep, y’know!” Arthur’s drawl came from outside the tent.

“Shut it, Arthur!” Sean yelled back as you lightly punched him in the chest.

“Oh my god,” you cringed, throwing your hands over your face to hide your embarrassment, he just chuckled.

“Go to sleep, love. It’ll be fine in the morn’”  he kissed your forehead, holding you against his chest.

------

Turns out it was not fine in the morning. As you sat around the fire, cup of coffee in hand, you couldn’t escape the knowing looks from everyone in camp. Sean came and took a seat beside you, throwing his arm over your shoulder.

“That’s right, gents, she’s mine so don’t even think about sniffin’ aroun’” You shrugged underneath him, elbowing him in the ribs as you scowled. This earned you a slightly hurt sounding “Wha’”

Javier sat across from the two of you, taking a sip of his coffee. “Finally. I was wondering when you two would work it out.”

You gave him a questioning look, the pieces slowly coming together. “You did that on purpose?”

“You two just needed a little nudge. Sean here isn’t the brightest when it comes to...well anything really.” Javier smirked and you gave him a wide smile.

“Hey!” Sean shot Javier a dirty look.

Though you hated to be messed with, it worked out well so you quickly forgave Javier for playing around with you.

“So was the first time all you hoped it would be?” Javier asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Not this already.” You let out a long sigh. You knew this would happen. People loved to gossip.

“I’ll have ya know I know how to satisfy my woman.” Sean cut in in an overly confident voice.

“Yeah? Karen didn’t seem very satisfied.” Javier shot back with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the slight pang of jealousy inside, though you knew he wasn’t interested in Karen. For all his faults, Sean was loyal.

“Yeah, well...I wasn’t tryin’ to impress Miss Jones, was I?” He kissed you lightly on the forehead. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across your face as you accepted his tender touch.

“Bah. I’m gonna go. You two are gonna make me sick.“ Javier poured out the rest of his coffee and threw down his cup, leaving in a hurry.

“Ahh much better. “ Sean said once you were alone.

You looked up at him, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. He leaned into you, cupping your face with his hand, deepening the kiss.

“Jesus, get a room, will ya?” Arthur called from across the camp.

“Shut it, Arthur!” You and Sean both yelled in unison, turning back to each other you broke into a fit of laughter.

[pinknerdpanda]

A Very Roxy and JuJu Christmas

Words: 1117 Characters: OFC’s Roxy, JuJu, Sam, Dean Warnings: Squad goals, late 90’s pop music, badass besties Requested by: myself :) (it’s my blog…I do what I want) Written by: @pinknerdpanda Beta’d By: @wheresthekillswitch

A/N: This was written for my Merry Manda’s Panda Presents celebration as a prequel to @wheresthekillswitch’s The Adventures of Roxy and JuJu and is intended to be an origin story of sorts. (Though, it can be read as a standalone as is.) Thanks for letting me borrow your two badass bitches, Lee. I love you, Soul Sister and this is (obvi) dedicated to you! :)

Series Master List

X

A Very Roxy and JuJu Christmas

“That’s not my name.”

“I know…You just seem like a JuJu for some reason.” Roxy shrugged and buried her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat. “I kinda have a habit of giving people nicknames.”

“I have been called many things in my life, but I can honestly say that’s not one of them.” JuJu found it was a bit difficult to maintain her carefully curated impassive exterior around Roxy in the fifteen minutes since they’d met. There was something warm and unusual about her.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Roxy offered, cheerfully. “Anything I can do to help?”

JuJu tossed down the tire iron and rubbed her hands together fervently. “No, it’s just this damn lug nut is stuck and it’s freezing.”

“Well, how about you come and sit down for a second to warm up. I have some hot chocolate!” Roxy smiled broadly before turning to open the driver’s side door and sliding in.

JuJu shook her head and chuckled. She flung the passenger door wide and sunk down into the seat.  Christmas lights lined the ceiling of the car, though they remained unlit and she noticed a small tree sitting in the middle of the dash.

Roxy was turned around, standing on her knees and folded halfway across the backseat. She rummaged through her bag until she found the thermos and extra cup. Flopping down in the seat, she turned to face JuJu.

Roxy filled both cups with the still steaming liquid and passed one to JuJu. “Here you go!”

“Who just has hot chocolate on hand?” JuJu took a hesitant sip. Her eyes grew wide as she savored the taste. “This is really good! Thank you!”

“Thanks! I made it from scratch,” Roxy sipped and sighed happily. “I really appreciate you stopping to help me. I am rubbish with cars.”

“No problem, happy to help,” JuJu gestured at the lights. “So, whatcha got going on here?”

Roxy smiled brightly, and, saying nothing, jammed her keys into the ignition and turned them slightly. The previously dormant lights came to life, their pink, green, blue, and purple lights flickering jauntily off and on as the dashboard tree began its own merry multicolored fiber optic dance. She flicked the volume of the radio up and the tinkling sound of a synth piano filled the small space, followed by a jingle-bell driven beat and bright, happy guitars. It was like she’d just flipped the switch to turn on Christmas.

JuJu watched in fascinated confusion as Roxy began bobbing and snapping in time to the music. Her upper lip curled happily and she closed her eyes as she started singing along with the familiar, young-sounding male voice.

JuJu scrunched up her face as she tried to place where she’d heard the voice before. After a few seconds, her jaw dropped in recognition.

“Wait, is this,” JuJu hesitated, not sure she wanted to know for certain. “Is this Hanson?”

“OMG! Yes! This is my favorite Christmas CD!” She looked up to see JuJu’s staring at her somewhat incredulously and stopped mid bob. She reached out slowly to turn the music down as her face turned a deep pink. “Sorry. I just really like Christmas.”

“Yeah I can tell,” JuJu chuckled. “Don’t apologize, either. I mean, Hanson’s not my thing, but you do you, girl.”

Roxy beamed. “Thanks! People always give me shit for being too…I dunno…happy maybe?” Her smile faded a bit. “I think people tend to think of me as naive or stupid because I get excited about silly things.”

“Hey, rule number one, don’t talk shit about yourself,” JuJu chided gently. “Some people are just miserable and hate to see other people happy for a change. Don’t let the bastards get you down.” She smiled as Roxy’s face brightened again and took the last sip of her cocoa. “Ok. I think I am ready to kick that lug nut’s ass.”

Roxy and JuJu ventured back out into the cold evening air, slamming their doors shut in unison. JuJu grabbed the tire iron from where she’d deposited it and set back to work.

Roxy sang quietly under her breath and JuJu wondered if she even realized she was doing it. She decided to let it go and enjoy the show.

A dull, rumbling sound caught Roxy’s attention and she turned just in time to see a pair of headlights cutting through the darkness and rounding the curve toward them. A dark, older but well maintained car slowed and came to a stop just behind Roxy’s. She narrowed her eyes, her hand traveling slowly toward the blade she had hidden on her right hip as both front doors of the car swung open with a loud squeak. Two large men stepped out, and even in the dark she could tell they were both exceptionally attractive.

“Having car trouble?” The shorter one called as they began walking toward her. Despite the mesmerizing sight of his bow legged saunter, Roxy gripped the handle of her knife tightly and began to evaluate their surroundings, preparing in case one of them moved wrong.

She smiled flatly. “Tire blew. I think we’ve got it handled though.”

The taller one with chin length hair and broad shoulders nodded, his mouth pressed in a thin line and one eyebrow arched. Roxy almost thought he looked impressed. “Well, we would be happy to help, if you’d like?”

“Actually, we’re all done,” JuJu’s voice boomed from behind Roxy, her tone commanding. Roxy glanced back as JuJu hoisted the tire iron over her shoulder defensively like a baseball bat. She stepped forward until she and Roxy were shoulder to shoulder. “And in record time, actually. But thanks for the offer.” JuJu swept a strand of hair from her face, replacing it with a dark, smudged grease mark on her left cheek.

The short one smiled. He was close enough that they could make out the fine crinkles around his eyes as he pursed his lips together approvingly. He glanced sideways at the taller man.

“Nice. My name’s Dean and this here’s my brother Sam,” he held a hand out toward them and both women looked at it pointedly before looking back up at his face. Neither of them made a movement to return the gesture and he clenched his hand awkwardly, returning it back to his side. The taller one chuckled lightly, his own hands shoved deep in the pockets of a rust colored jacket. He looked down at his feet, and Roxy noted the dimples in his cheeks as he struggled to hide his amusement.

“I’m Roxy and this is…”

“JuJu. The name’s JuJu. That’s a nice car you boys have there.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

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[flatsuke]

if i missed you, would you hold it against me

Summary: With Soryu and MC’s passing, it now fell onto Eisuke to be Ryusei’s legal guardian. Why Soryu and MC would think naming Eisuke, of all people, as legal guardian in their will was beyond him.

              You’re the only one we can trust, Soryu had told him. But that didn’t mean Eisuke was ready to be a father.

              Hell, he wasn’t ready for anything that came since that day.

              He wasn’t ready to be a father.

              He wasn’t ready to lose his best friend.

              He wasn’t ready to lose her.

Genre: Angst, Hurt and Comfort

Pairing: One-sided Eisuke/MC, MC/Soryu

a/n: I haven’t written a proper fic in so long lmao. this idea just popped in m head one day, and since then, i couldn’t stop thinking about it lmfao. 

@2bedroom-baddestbidderlove i hope you like it!! @maidofstars @bolt8826 @tsundere-eevee @alolan-lillie @themysticaldaydreamer here’s a fic after so long lol

               Dinner was a solemnly silent affair.

              In the stillness of the dining room, the only sound that could be heard was the clang of Eisuke’s utensils on his plate. Across him sat little Ryusei, who only stared at his untouched food with empty eyes.

              “… You’re not hungry?” Eisuke asked slowly.

              The boy shook his head without looking up from his plate.

              Eisuke sighed in defeat, putting his utensils down. “Do you want to go to bed already?”

Ryusei nodded in assent. Gingerly, the boy pushed back his chair and gave a little bow, leaving Eisuke alone with his thoughts.

              “I suppose it’s not going to be easy, huh?” he said to no one in particular.

              And it won’t ever be easy again. Not with them gone.

              Just three days ago, Eisuke was staring into Soryu’s and MC’s coffins. Both of them looked deceptively peaceful, as if they were only asleep—that anytime, they’d wake up from their long nap and mess around in the penthouse like always.

              But Eisuke knew better.

              Underneath all the flowers and their elaborate clothes were the bullet wounds dealt unto to them by a rival gang. The Ice Dragons had been in an ongoing feud with the said rival gang for a while now, but no one could have predicted the rivalry to escalate to MC being kidnapped, Soryu getting into an outnumbered gunfight, and both of them ultimately perishing.

              (The memory of Soryu and MC, clinging onto each other for dear life while covered in bullet holes was something Eisuke couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to.)

              With their passing, it now fell onto Eisuke to be Ryusei’s legal guardian. Why Soryu and MC would think naming Eisuke, of all people, as legal guardian in their will was beyond him.

              You’re the only one we can trust, Soryu had told him. But that didn’t mean Eisuke was ready to be a father.

              Hell, he wasn’t ready for anything that came since that day.

              He wasn’t ready to be a father.

              He wasn’t ready to lose his best friend.

              He wasn’t ready to lose her.

              (Despite everything, the torch he held for her never burned out.)

              Every time he looked at Ryusei, Eisuke felt the dull ache he kept hidden for so long resurface again.

              At first glance, Ryusei was the spitting image of his father. With his dark hair and dark eyes, Ryusei was essentially the mirror image of the stubbornly serious young boy Eisuke had befriended all those years ago at boarding school.

              But to anyone who knew better, Ryusei also carried his mother’s likeness, albeit more subtly. Ryusei’s eyes held a gentle strength Eisuke was all too familiar with, and the boy’s selfless nature was a constant reminder of what he could never hope to have.

              Sitting on the edge of Ryusei’s bed, Eisuke pulled up the covers over the boy. Ryusei was asleep, but he held onto his family photo with a firm grip, as if he was afraid that if he let go, the people in the photo would fade away.

              It’s too late for that now, though.

              Since that day, Ryusei had been unnaturally quiet. He had always been on the calmer side, but now, it was like Ryusei couldn’t speak anymore.

              Even with constant visits from all the other auction managers, nothing could rouse him from his self-inflicted speechlessness. Despite Baba’s gentle encouragement, Ota’s invitations to hang out, and even Mamoru’s uncharacteristic support, Ryusei wouldn’t budge. Not even Inui or Samejima could do anything to help their Young Boss.

              During the funeral, Ryusei practically held a blank gaze the whole time. Not once did he cry, and his once bright gray eyes were now a dull slate.

              But right now, Eisuke could see how puffy his eyes were in his sleep. Ryusei had been crying, but he did so all alone, away from anyone’s sight. He probably didn’t want to burden anyone with his tears, Eisuke thought.

              Just like his mother.

              Baba had suggested looking through old photos  to try and cheer Ryusei up.

Recalling and sharing happy memories might help him, the thief advised with a smile.

              Eisuke was never the type to be sentimental, nor was he good at comforting kids, but he supposed Baba was right.

              “This was from your sixth birthday, right?” Eisuke asked, holding up a photo album.

              “… Yeah,” said Ryusei, speaking up for the first time in a while. “The Ice Dragons threw a surprise party for me. They said I was the hero of the day.”

              Eisuke remembered that day, too.

              Ryusei had a superhero-themed birthday party. The whole thing was pretty silly, now that Eisuke thought about it. Seeing all the hardened Ice Dragons dressed in bright capes and masks was a sight to see. Even the auction managers got it on the hero action. Baba was excited to show off his full-on spandex outfit to everyone.

              “That was a fun birthday. Everyone looked really cool in their costumes,” Ryusei beamed.

              “They did, huh?” The corners of Eisuke’s mouth twitched in a ghost of a smile. He remembered how hilariously uncomfortable Soryu had looked in his costume.

              The two of them continued to browse through all the albums until Eisuke stopped at a particular one.

              “Oh, that’s my parents’ wedding album.”

              The devil in Eisuke told him to drop the album immediately in anticipation of the ache that he knew would surge, but he told himself that he had to do this for Ryusei.

              I’m supposed to feel grief, not jealousy. Get your shit together, Eisuke.

              Leafing through the pages, Eisuke could almost relive how bittersweet their wedding day was.

              He, of course, was chosen as Soryu’s best man. Standing to next to Soryu, Eisuke could see MC walk slowly down the aisle, looking immaculately stunning in her gown. She was so painfully beautiful that Eisuke was tempted to take her hand in his own, as if he were the groom.

              But he wasn’t.

              She stretched out her hand—with her engagement ring shining—and laced her fingers with Soryu’s.

              Now, Eisuke knew that if anyone deserved MC, it was Soryu. He knew that Soryu, amidst his tough exterior, was a good person at heart. He would never do anything to hurt her, and he would always, always make her happy. MC, in turn, was a perfect match for Soryu. Seeing the usually-cold mobster letting his walls down and opening up to someone was a breath of fresh air. She managed to bring out the tender side he had hidden deep within him. Eisuke knew better than anyone that they both deserved to be happy with each other.

              (But still, that didn’t mean it hurt any less when he heard the words “I do” from her lips.)

              “…Mom looks really pretty in that picture,” Ryusei said with a sad smile, pointing to a photo of husband and wife, lips on each other’s in a fervent declaration of love.

              Biting back a sob, Eisuke gave a sad smile of his own.

              “Yeah. She sure is.”

              Ryusei was finally feeling better enough to see visitors again, so Eisuke asked Inui and Samejima to watch over their Young Boss while he went out for a while.

              It had been far too long since he last checked Soryu and MC’s grave. Eisuke thought that now would be the best time to visit, considering not much people would go there after all the time that passed.

              Driving alone, Eisuke checked the back seat one last time to make sure his cargo was still intact. Thankfully, the flowers he had ordered weren’t damaged from the long car ride to the cemetery.

              When he finally arrived there, he took the baskets of flowers on each hand and began the long, halcyon walk to their grave. The only sounds he could hear were the clacking of his own footsteps on the pavement, and the constant humming of the cicadas in the summer.

              Eisuke had to chuckle bitterly. If only his feelings were as peaceful as the surroundings.

              Their grave was left in pristine condition, with white chrysanthemums to adorn it. He assumed a caretaker must have been tending to the grave every day since the funeral. He’d have to thank them for keeping the place pleasing to the eye.

              Setting down the flowers on their graves, Eisuke mused to himself silently.

              He had so many things he wanted to ask them—what would happen to the Ice Dragons now, what should he do to the rival gang, why did they think he’d be a good father to Ryusei—but he kept it all inside.

              Seeing MC’s name etched onto the grave didn’t make it any easier for him.

              Sometimes, in the darkness of his bedroom, Eisuke would think about all the forbidden what-ifs. What if they never died? What if they were never married? What if she had chosen him instead of Soryu during that fateful night at the auctions? He could’ve kept her safe, they could’ve been happy together, she could’ve lived to see today—

              “Oh, Eisuke. I didn’t know you were going to visit.”

              A deep voice shook him out of his internal stupor. He turned around and was met with the sight of an old, familiar friend.

              “Luke. So you’re here.”

              Eisuke didn’t expect to see Luke, of all people, show up with a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in hand.

              “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The doctor gave a sheepish smile. “How is Ryusei?”

              “He’s doing much better. I left him back home with Soryu’s lapdo—ahem—Inui and Samejima. But what about you? What brings you all the way here?”

              “I’ve actually been coming here to give flowers and tend to the grave every day.”

              Luke did all this?

              “You don’t have to do that, you know,” Eisuke replied. “You must be busy with all the surgeries.”

              “You’re right about that. But every time I try to go back to my old routine, I can’t stop thinking about them. You and Soryu were the first friends I ever made back in school, and now that he’s gone, it all feels so… incomplete. The three of us won’t be together again to play with cats anymore.”

              It was unlike Luke to be so open and honest about everything, but the wistful nostalgia on his face kept Eisuke from saying anything.

              “And Sexy Bones—no—MC. She was… special. Her collarbones were definitely a thing of beauty, but I’ve never met anyone whose smile could heal me until I met her.” You and me both, Luke.

              “I… I miss them terribly, Eisuke,” Luke lamented, his lips trembling in an attempt to hold back his tears.

              “… I do too.”

              Both of them stood in silence, basking in the sorrow of it all. The cicadas hummed again, as if to play a requiem for the lost lovers and their grieving companions.

              “… I have to go now. Ryusei’s probably waiting for me to get back,” Eisuke said, turning to Luke.

              “All right then. Tell him his Uncle Luke said hi.”

              Eisuke gave his friend one last nod before walking away to leave.

              “Wait, Eisuke,” Luke called out. “I only noticed it now, but the flowers you gave Sexy Bones… why did you get her yellow tulips?”

              This was one secret Eisuke would keep to his grave. No one, not even Luke, must ever know what those flowers really meant. This was between him and MC alone.

              (If anyone knew the language of flowers, then they would know that yellow tulips stood for one-sided love.)

              “I just thought they would suit her, that’s all.”

              One morning, Eisuke and Ryusei had breakfast together in silence. Unlike all the previous times, this silence was peaceful instead of the usual stifling tension.

              It had taken a long, long time, but Ryusei improved considerably since that day. He stopped crying alone, and he opened up a lot more, too. He was back to his old self, thanks to the constant support from all the others as well.

              In truth, Eisuke was thankful for Ryusei. After his last visit to the cemetery, he focused all of his attention on raising the boy; that way, Eisuke wouldn’t have the chance to lose himself in grief and longing.

              In a way, Ryusei saved Eisuke from himself.

              “I made us some omelets,” Eisuke said, setting down the plates. “It’s not as good as your mom’s, but it’s certainly better than your dad’s.”

              “You’re right about that. Sometimes, the kitchen explodes when he cooks!” Ryusei laughed in return, poking the eggs with his fork. It was true that he could order a chef to cook for them, but Eisuke thought this would be a nice change of pace for them both.

              “Oh, wait! Stay there, Uncle Eisuke!” Ryusei chirped. “I’ll be right back.”

              Ryusei ran to the kitchen, leaving Eisuke wondering what he had in store.

              After a few minutes, Ryusei came back, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

              “Um, I made you some coffee,” the boy said, slightly unsure. “Mom… she told me you liked coffee a lot.”

              “Ah… she did, huh?” Eisuke forced a tight smile. The recognizable aroma was starting to take a toll on his self-control, and he could already feel the waves of his forgotten déjà vu hit him one after the other.

              ...He really is your son, through and through.

              With a slightly shaky hand, Eisuke took the mug from a hopeful Ryusei. He took a sip.

              “I—I hope you like it! I’m sorry if I put too much milk and sugar.”

              The taste that spread through his mouth was all-too familiar. It was a combination of a resolute sweetness, a gentle warmth, and a signature creaminess that reminded him of the only person that ever mattered to him in a long time. The experience of it all was all too much to bear.

              “Uncle Eisuke, are you okay? Was it too hot?” Ryusei fretted.

              Eisuke didn’t even notice the tears that started flowing down his face. All the years of pent-up loneliness, grief, and regret came out at once. It had been far, far too long since he had let his guard down in front of anyone, but the drink was what finally burst the dam of his well-hidden sorrow.

              “… It’s delicious, Ryusei. You make really good coffee,” Eisuke confessed through his sobs, ruffling the boy’s hair.

              It tastes just like yours.