#why didn't he corner me at that bridge like he normally does???

[penisbutterjellytime]

This is probably the worst place to introduce yourself and proposition your devil deal. Brother the ambiance here is a guy screaming in the agony in the background

[yanderefarm]

Now I need us “pretending” to forget about Emil, only to actully forget about it him.

Like, as a punishment we lock him in the basement and forget about him as a joke, send a maid down there once a day to feed him, but then we genuinely forget about with him, because we didn’t realize how much work Emil does.

He gets feed once a day from a maid, but that’s the only interaction he has. (Need some more angst before it gets fluffy🙏🙏)

part 3 of this & 2

i don't know why i love this series so much i want to break emil so bad. i have so much fun writing pathetic emil whump.

cw;; domestic abuse, drugging, unsanitary, manipulation, dehumanization

things had been relatively peaceful since starting the divorce process. a process you had paid the information guild to purposely obstruct and delay while also leaking all the information about. at this point you met the guild master more than your own husband, in spite of emil's attempts. every day you would wake up to find some kind of expensive gift and your maids would inform you that emil was there to see you, to which you would dismiss both. but emil kept trying.

he wasn't even being drugged anymore but the effects had clearly taken their toll on his mind. according to the servants of the main house he wasn't doing his work, he would spend all his time wandering or sitting like he was the living dead, and they even heard him crying. your name and even mention of the queen title had been all but banned by his advisors in an attempt to get him to pull himself together. he wasn't.

the first time you saw him in 6 months was shortly after a meeting with the guild master discussing your next steps to take over the kingdom. you had decided with everything squared away you would go out for a walk by the fountain.

the moon was the only light on the usually vibrant garden, casting it in a somber darkness. the air was cold and heavy with the chilling change of seasons on the horizon so you were wrapped in a shawl. it was the perfect night to find him. your husband was standing on the bridge overlooking the fountain, he was staring down into the water longingly. you could see from his reflection in the water his eyes were sunken and there were bags under them, his hair was messy and uncombed, and he was paler than normal. he looked sickly and the cold blank look in his eyes didn't help.

he didn't even seem to notice as you approached when usually he would be on high alert or draw his sword. or he did notice.

"if you're going to kill me please make it quick." he must have thought you were some kind of assassin but more notably his voice was so soft and weak unlike anything you'd ever heard from him.

"i have no intention of killing you." your voice made his head shoot up with all the speed his weakened state could allow.

fresh tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "(y/n)..? are you... real..?"

he stumbled towards you his feet struggling to carry him. you reached out and caught his surprisingly light body.

"you're re-"

"what's wrong with you? do you think dying will make things better?"

he flinched and his head fell to the ground.

"i thought you would break eventually and just admit you were wrong. but you'd rather die, hm?"

"i- you- i tried-"

"i don't want your excuses, emil."

he swallowed hard as tears began falling freely from his eyes. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. you couldn't help but take some kind of pity on the poor man, your hand running under his chin and forcing him to look back at your face.

"you're so pathetic... this is what the terrible tyrant becomes?"

you ran your thumb along his bottom lip before you leaned in close enough to feel his ragged breath against your lips.

"give up your pathetic life. give everything to me. everything ends when you give it to me."

he tried to lean forward enough to catch your lips but you kept out of his reach. instead of letting him kiss you, you pulled away from him completely. you stood up straight and pulled your arms away from his body causing the pathetic man to drop onto his knees. his body hit the cobble like you'd dropped a corpse but you decided not to care, choosing to turn away instead.

you started to walk away when you heard scratching and clawing at the stone under your feet.

"-ing please. please!" his voice clearly strained to try get your attention.

you stopped in your tracks waiting for him to speak but instead you heard more clawing and shuffling. eventually you felt his head bump into your leg like a cat greeting its owner. his bloody hands grabbed your leg and he held onto you as tight as he could while rubbing his head against your leg.

"emil. let me go."

"please take it... please take everything..."

"let me go."

"you want everything its yours. please."

"emil."

you finally dared to look down at him. he was so pathetic, his tears and blood were staining your pants. you let out a heavy sigh and reached down, your hand running through his tangled mess of hair.

"if you mean that then tomorrow concede your kingdom to me."

his peachy pink eyes looked up at you.

"do you understand?"

he nodded.

"then let go. you're getting me dirty."

he hesitated but he slowly let go of your leg.

———

of course your husband came through. he did as you ordered him, meaning you ascended to the title of king ahead of your schedule. while it certainly had its benefits it did leave a few things unfinished specifically on the guild master's end. so after everything settled into place you used your new found power to help staple in the final touches.

your husband who had been so happy to have you next to him again the past few months had to resume the drugs just so your hard work wouldn't completely slip away. he was still walking around like a corpse just a better maintained one. but no one seemed to have the time to pay much mind in the chaos of making you king. no one had the time to wonder where he went near the end of the chaos as you took over. and it was only when it was too late did his advisors even notice he wasn't anywhere to be found in the castle. you had to reassure them that he was currently tucked away from the public receiving the utmost medical care for his poor condition.

you ran a hand through your hair as you descended the dungeon steps, you were currently complaining to your maid about all the tedious parts of your job. there was an undeniable smile on your face though, the pride of having the most powerful kingdom in your hands made even the tedium valuable. your smile only widened twisting into a sick smirk as your torch caught onto the dirty form of your caged husband. he was on his knees clinging to the bars of his cell with tearful dead eyes.

"how long has it been, emil...?"

you walked over and crouched in front of him, he immediately went to push his head against your hand.

"your highness it's been 6 months since your last visit." your maid hung the torch nearby.

"really...? it's been over a year since i started this..."

your maid set about preparing emil's food while you pet him gently.

"i didn't mean to forget you down here."

the poor man didn't even seem to realize as he rubbed his head against your hand.

"oh emil... to think it only took a little over a year to break the mad king. to take everything away from you. to trap you in a little cage like you did my family."

the maid returned with some fresh water and a bowl of porridge. you pulled away from emil as she gave him his food. you watched his pathetic eyes look up at you desperately and you cocked your head to the side.

"your highness he's asking permission to eat."

your eyes lit up as you looked over at your maid. "oh my goodness!! you're incredible! i remember telling you i wanted to train him but to think you really went the extra mile..."

"thank you, sir. it's an absolute honor to break the man who destroyed my home."

your smile didn't fade as you looked down at the pleading former tyrant. "go ahead. but you can't use your hands."

emil hesitated before he finally shoved his face down into the bowl, eating like a pig with slop. it was a disgusting but amusing site, you and your maid had a good laugh at his expense.

once he was done you decided to give him a reward for good behavior. you crouched down in front of him and gently cleaned the mess off his face with a warm wash cloth. it was the closest thing he'd had to a real bath in the past 6 months. he was sobbing as he leaned into your hands.

it didn't last as long as he'd liked and you pulled away again.

"continue training him. id like to parade him around eventually so we should work with that goal in mind."

"you'll have his complete obedience. he won't even think to breathe without your permission."

"wonderful." you ran a hand down through his tangled mess of hair. "... I'll give you a budget so you can properly turn this area into the perfect training facility and our private friend can help you with the details."

"i look forward to it, your highness."

"i do too. when we're done with you you'll finally tell me you love me. you'll thank me for all of this, emi."

all you got was a whimper in response. you left your precious husband down in the dungeon, a forgotten and disgraced king.

[soobchwe]

heartsick avenue —⋆˚࿔ 𝐧𝐫

➸ fic for the birthday boy and dancing prodigy himself! 🤍 ʚɞ pairing: nishimura riki x fem!reader ʚɞ word count: ʚɞ genre: slight to mid angst, fluff ʚɞ tags: exes to ? ʚɞ synopsis: Is it normal to celebrate your ex's birthday? Probably not. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't, and it definitely doesn't mean you still have feelings for him.

Lighting the candles on Riki's cake, you feel the intense, accusatory stares of Jake and Sunghoon behind you in the tiny kitchen. Your apartment is filled with Riki's closest friends and family, but two of them decided to stick around by your side to be as judgemental as ever.

In any other situation, you know Riki would be celebrating his birthday somewhere else. But it's you, and it's him, and it just feels right, despite all of the people wondering what is wrong with the two of you. The breakup was five months ago. Sure, there's cordial, but then there's off-putting denial.

"You're really going all out for him, you know," Jake comments, taking a free piece of garlic bread and stuffing it in his mouth.

"I would assume she's his girlfriend or something. Right, Jaeyun?" Sunghoon asks, sarcastically.

"Exactly! I was thinking the same thing."

"Can you guys just hush and keep eating? It's not like that," you admonish them. With the final candle lit, you feel successful that the cake is perfect and exactly to Riki's specifications.

Yes, you were his girlfriend, once upon a time. But that didn't mean you had to stop caring about him, especially when the breakup didn't end with any bridges burnt or sour feelings involved.

What was so wrong with wanting to celebrate someone who still meant a lot to you?

Sure, your friends told you trying to stay casually involved with each other as friends was not a good idea. It would only keep residual feelings in your heart and lingering disappointment in the air, but it didn't feel that way. It hurt more to be without him at all than with him but not in a romantic way.

Everyone's else's opinions didn't matter anyway. All that did was having his presence in your life any way you could.

Sunghoon turns out the lights as you begin singing "Happy Birthday," the rest of the partygoers following in your lead. You look directly at Riki as you set the cake down in front of him, your heart in your mouth as the final lines of the song ring out in your living room.

You know it was the right choice for the two of you to part ways, the decision amicable and made without anger or pain. His career was his focus right now, as was yours, despite the strong feelings that lingered.

Yet, why does your heart still clench every time you stare into his eyes and see the corners of his lips turn up? Why does he still handle you and every interaction you've had since the breakup with the same level of care he held when he was yours?

"Happy birthday, Nishi," you say with a smile, the expression equal parts real and fake. "Don't forget to make a wish!"

He blows out the candles the second after you tell him to. The people surrounding him clap when the smoke billows into the air, but all Riki can do is keep his gaze on you.

"You gonna tell me what you wished for?" You ask, covering another dirty dish with soap.

"The whole point is that you don't tell anyone or it won't come true, remember?" Riki smirks as you hand him the plate you've just cleaned. He rubs it with a hand towel vigorously, making sure it's spotless before it goes in the cabinet.

He's always been a neat freak, making sure things are in the correct order and place before he feels content. His quirks still make you laugh to this day, although they used to drive you crazy in the early weeks of your relationship.

"I was just curious is all," you say. "I didn't expect you to stay after everyone left. Shouldn't the birthday boy be drinking with his friends? Attending some after party  or whatever Hee was going on about?"

Riki chuckles. "Nah. I'd rather be here with you anyway."

Your heart cracks into small pieces. How could something so offhand from his mouth hit you like a shotgun barrel to the chest? It was easy to have a light conversation with him, but nothing to this caliber. Anything with a slight tinge of romantic undertones was not a territory you wanted to go back to again. It was too easy to fall into, and you fear you may never recover if you go back to that headspace.

The fragments in your chest are similar to the ones from the mug in your sink. It's chipped at the handle in a deep ridge. You barely remember the sound piercing the air, too lost in your thoughts to recognize the slipup.

"Shit," Riki exclaims, "are you okay?" There's no blood in the sink from his viewpoint, but he inspects your hand anyway to make sure you're not injured.

"I think you should go," you respond, the words coming out before you can stop them.

"Hey, look at me." He turns you to face him, saying your name with concern as he puts both hands to your face. "What's wrong?"

"We can't do this, Riki," you whisper, choking on the beginnings of a sob in your throat. "You can't say things like that, and you can't touch me like this. Not anymore." You remove his touch from your skin and walk to the bathroom, hoping he doesn't follow.

Like Riki can read your mind, he respects the space you clearly need and departs quietly. Little does he know, all you want is to pull him closer.

The December air bites through your thick coat as you tread the sidewalk to your apartment. Of course, you had to spend another late night in the office, your boss unrelenting even on the cusp of the holiday season. At the same time, it’s nice to be distracted by work, documents and timesheets taking your mind off the disaster of Riki’s birthday a week ago.

Speak of the fucking devil.

The man himself is sitting on the steps leading up to your apartment building, He has his hands tightly knit together to keep them warm, his attire doing nothing to provide the heat he needs. In denim jeans and a baseball shirt with a faux leather jacket, you’d think he had no intentions of stopping by tonight.

It makes you wonder how long he’s been sitting and waiting for you to arrive home.

“Nishi? What are you doing here?” You ask, clearly puzzled. You step closer to him, noticing the redness of his face from the chilly climate. The least he can do is find a warmer coat if he plans on going somewhere, on purpose or not.

“I had to see you.”

You force the butterflies down, not letting them flutter much harder than necessary. “What for? You could’ve called or texted.”

“I didn’t get to tell you what I wished for on my birthday.”

You can’t fight the chuckle that comes out of your mouth. “Yeah, because you said if you did you-”

In a millisecond, Riki is standing in front of you with his lips firmly pressed to yours. The kiss is rushed and clumsy, but the next few that follow are smooth and desperate. Your mitted hands press to his neck as his arms wrap around your waist, the urge to hold each other unavoidable.

When you part, Riki smiles like the world is a shade brighter because of you. “Last week, I wished to find the courage to do that again. And tell you how lost I’ve been without you.”

A sad laugh escapes your throat as a tear also forms in your eye. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“But it’s different. You know it is. And I want to go back to how it was before.”

You stutter, unsure what to say to that response. Did he think it could work again, in spite of all the things that made you agree to separate in the first place? “What about your job, and–”

“All that matters to me is us. Everything else is background noise.”

You whimper before connecting his mouth to yours again, his words and his touch melting you to the bone until you acquiesce to his plea. How could you say no to him, your bestest friend?And it feels so right to be in this place with him again that there’s nowhere else you want to be, as his friend and his lover.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @hursheys @slytherinshua @hyperdramas

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

Someone Close By

TW: references to a difficult past, blood and burning mentions (nothing happens they're used in conversation, it's mostly just fluff)

Note: Villain is referred to as 'Tiger' once. Also, I am incredibly tight on time, n I just found this in my drafts, I will get to the asks, I just have 16 million hw assignments to do 😣

One of the most annoying things about Villain was his stupid habit of throwing out a cryptic "You'll see," when anyone asked why he was doing something. He responded casually and automatically, with a languid gaze. And it was infuriating.

So when Hero had asked another question, she was quick to add a "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it."

"You'll see," he replied, tone lazy and offhand, maybe even a little self-satisfied.

She slammed one of her fists on his desk. "Why can't you just answer the question like a normal person?"

"Show, do not tell." He shrugged at her nonchalantly.

"You- you suck at writing," she accused, wagging a finger at him. Anything to gnaw at his ridiculously inflated ego.

"Hmm, tragic." The sarcasm lined his tone, like a thin, sheer veil draped over an otherwise emotionless attitude. The more striking irony was the fact that he complained about being assigned essays for school and his piss-poor writing skills on the daily. Bringing it up wouldn't affect him, she learned. Not after that reaction.

"You're incredibly dense, you know," she breathed out, frustrated, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Mhm. And yet here you are, wasting your time conversing with someone as incredibly dense as me." He spoke with a hint of amusement, more self-satisfied than anything, his eyes still fixed on his computer screen.

"Sometimes," she attested through gritted teeth, "you have to force yourself to endure what you don't really enjoy in the slightest, for a greater benefit."

"Ah," he concluded, some sort of finality to his tone, "so you admit that you have to put up with however I behave." The corner of his lip twitched up only slightly, the ghost of a smile gracing his lips. Unlike how she'd anticipated, it hadn't seemed so ill-fitting on a normally emotionless visage.

"I could still break your nose," she threatened, letting her shadow fall over his seated form.

He only raised an eyebrow in response, the dirt-eating smirk still visible on his lips.

"You know, you seriously need to relax." He continued typing with his left hand, and he let the cool fingers of his right hand stroke up and down her arm, almost soothingly.

At that, she froze. "Y-you don't like. .  .you don't like touching people."

"True that," he admitted. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No," she replied, before she could stop herself, and her face burned with an emotion she couldn't discern.

"Ah well, I remember you saying a touch could be calming?" At this point, he just sounded uncertain, a little confused if you will, every trace of the smug know-it-all from before vanishing.

"Yes, but I thought you were doing this to mess with me? Annoy me?"

This time, he finally met her gaze, lowering his hand to the desk again. "No. I think I've done enough of that."

She would rather be burned alive than to admit her arm felt cold where his hand had just touched. "That you have," she replied, rolling her eyes and earning a snort from him.

"It was reflexive. But I wasn't joking. You really do need to relax."

He was right, and she hated it. But she'd always been so tense; she couldn't even tell what being normal felt like to her. She didn't know it was so obvious that he could read it off her like a magazine.

"Do you want to watch a movie? I could use a break."

"You and a break? Don't you have a bad relationship with those? You never get tired," she mocked, smirking.

He turned around in his chair, "Not tired, just bored. Not doing something that important anyway."

Liar. He was both bored and tired, if the dark circles under his eyes and the way he seemed to slump, trying to let the tight line of his shoulders fade. He slowly ran a hand through his hair, a common tell for when he was exhausted. Except he hadn't known she could tell.

So, they found themselves sprawled out on the living room couch, the lights dimmed and a bowl of salted caramel popcorn resting on Tiger's lap.

He may have pretended to be a health nut, but deep down, he was a major sweet tooth. The movie playing on the flatscreen TV was terribly violent, gunshots and a ridiculous amount of blood featured in every scene or the other. It was definitely NOT the kind of movie one would relax to. Yet here they were, Villain was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other, and Hero had unclenched her jaw, her shoulders more slack now.

To the film's credit, there were a few light-hearted moments, mostly dark humour, enough to draw a laugh even out of him.

"He's not going to kill him," she said, completely certain.

"There would be no point of all this then. He's definitely going to kill him," he countered through a mouthful of popcorn.

And sure enough, he did not kill him.

"No way!" he protested.

"I've seen enough movies to read between the lines, kitty cat." She let a smug grin dance across her face.

The nerve of her. "Alright, Steven Spielberg, I get it," he huffed out.

The movie wasn't over yet. This was only half of it. Again, she found the fingers of his right hand running up and down her arm, his left currently sticky with caramel and tiny bits of popcorn alike.

The touch was relaxing, even with his calloused fingertips. Maybe even more so. "Do you want me to change the movie?" he asked softly, reaching for the remote.

He must've taken notice of how the line of her shoulders went taut only slightly. A scene in the movie where an older sibling took the pain to save the younger ones. The way it was acted out hit a little too close to home. "No. I'm fine really, and besides there's not much time left, and I wanna know what happens."

"Anytime you want me to change, just say it." And he continued caressing the skin of her arm absentmindedly. If she focused on that, then whatever the movie dished out wouldn't matter.

There was much worse she'd lived through, much more provocative to her triggers. At least right now, she had the comfort of someone close by.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @catsarecool00 @muffinrebel44

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

[alj4890]

Can't Take My Eyes Off of You

(Maxwell Beaumont x Olivia Nevrakis) in a Choices The Royal Romance Crackship AU

Masterlist

A/N Sorry this took so long. I'm the girl who gets the flu each year in the dead of summer, instead of the winter like a normal person 🤦🏻‍♀️ Anyway, on to more enjoyable things! The Court is at Lythikos. After replaying TRR, I forgot how the things Maxwell says and his reactions could be interpreted into him actually liking Olivia in the two Lythikos chapters. Naturally, for this storyline, I ran hard with it 😂 This chapter focuses on that first day there.

Chapter 2

The Royal Palace, the Duke of Ramsford's chambers...

"Maxwell?" Bertrand snapped. "Are you paying attention?"

Maxwell remained silent as he stared out the window. His thoughts were focused on a wild variety of revelations. After the previous day's time observing Liam and Riley play croquet and then last night's sneaking out for cronuts, he could see that Liam had a definite favorite amongst his many suitors.

It continued to give him hope, not just for himself, but also for Liam. He'd never seen the prince react the way he was with any of the ladies they'd grown up with. Maxwell could tell that Riley seemed just as crazy about him. If things continued to move along like he thought, he would be lifting a glass of champagne with the rest of the nobles in honor of their engagement in a few months.

The rest of Maxwell's thoughts, as usual, were filled with Olivia.

The conversation he had with her outside her room the night of the Masquerade Ball revealed that she preferred it when he acted like himself. He couldn't help but be pleased to hear that. Perhaps his idea to be more casual and aloof was going to pay off in the end.

It has to, he argued with himself. This has to make her finally see me.

He also couldn't help but notice her looking at him curiously the day before at the derby. When he didn't go up to her to even say hello, her eyes narrowed. Usually, he'd have remained by her side, making outrageous bets in the hopes of seeing her smile. It'd been hard to merely nod her way then turn his back on her. He wondered what she was thinking at that moment.

He'd then done the same at the Queen's tea later on. Olivia's frown followed him over to where Riley was sitting after the croquet match. He hadn't even bothered to look for her, at least not obviously. He'd instead watched her from the corner of his eye.

If his actions kept him on her mind in trying to figure out this new version of himself, then it would all be worth going against his very nature.

His worry now was how to behave at Lythikos.

Should I change it up or--

"MAXWELL!"

He jumped, turning quickly towards his brother.

"Sorry!" He automatically replied. "I um, well..."

Bertrand groaned.

"Maxwell, I have to return to Ramsford." He began again.

"Why?" Maxwell asked.

"Why?! I just went into a detailed explanation on why I'm not journeying to Lythikos with you and Lady Riley!"

"Oh." Maxwell said a touch sheepishly. "Right. Sorry."

Bertrand sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can I trust you to make certain Lady Riley behaves herself appropriately at Lythikos?"

"Of course you can!" Maxwell replied, slapping a reassuring hand upon his brother's shoulder. "You know I'll make sure she has a great time snow skiing and all."

"That's not what I'm worried about!" Bertrand grumbled. "I'm worried about her bringing attention, the wrong kind of attention, upon our House!"

He narrowed his eyes at Maxwell.

"Don't think I've forgotten what I'd hoped was a joke of yours about finding an indecent woman to represent us."

"Come on, Bertrand." Maxwell folded his arms. "You've seen for yourself that Riley has been a perfect lady since she arrived."

"She does appear to be all you've promised." Bertrand said. "I suppose I have little choice now."

"You can't send her home, even if you wanted to." Maxwell pointed out. "Liam is crazy about her. Now, the public wants to see more of her with him."

"True."

Maxwell held his right hand up while placing his left over his heart. "On my honor as a Beaumont, I swear only the best of both me and Riley will be shown at Lythikos."

"I can't very well argue against that type of reassurance." Bertrand's lips curved into a slight grin.

"You and I made sure no one could ever doubt the word of a Beaumont." Maxwell added, grinning even more.

"That we did." Bertrand patted Maxwell's back. "Let's go awaken our chosen lady and give her the details about this next event."

*****************

Lythikos...

Olivia watched from a window in her library as Maxwell's limo pulled into the drive. She knew she should already be outside to greet them, but she wanted just a few more seconds behind the curtains to see how Maxwell acted with Riley.

She didn't know why her curiosity was notched to an eleven over his odd behavior, but she was determined to see if Liam's new suitor was possibly stringing both men along.

Her eyes narrowed even more so to see Drake and Hana getting out of the same limo.

Well that's odd, she thought.

She ducked down when Maxwell glanced over towards her way. Cursing herself for that ridiculous reaction, she crawled out of view and hurried to greet them.

"Welcome to Lythikos." She announced from the front steps. "I hope you will take advantage of all the beauty my duchy has to offer."

Before anyone could properly respond, she waved towards her butler standing at the ready. "Harris will show you to your rooms. Please let him know of any needs you might have."

Olivia cast her typical smirk and took off towards a frozen pond that already had a gathering of nobles.

"Join us when you're ready." She added.

She glanced back to see Maxwell help Riley with her luggage. A slight frown formed on her lips when she noticed the two laughing over some joke.

Her temper simmered as she faced forward. No matter how distracting Maxwell was at this moment, she was determined to focus all her attention on Liam. After all, the prince was the whole point of this social season.

I despise the mystery that is Maxwell Beaumont. He can act weird all he wants with that barely attractive American. If he wants her, then he can have her. See if I care.

***************

"C'mon Riley!" Maxwell urged. "We need to get down to the pond."

"Okay, okay." Riley struggled with a sweater she was pulling on. "Geez, Max. It isn't like the ice will melt before we get there."

"I know." He mumbled. "I see that Liam is already out there."

"He is?" She hurried over to the window. "Looks like most of his suitors are out there too."

"Yeah." Maxwell's brow furrowed the longer he watched the group skate.

Riley gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah! I'm great!" Maxwell held her coat up for her. "I'm only anxious to get our future queen out there for some fun!"

Riley laughed as she slipped her arms in the sleeves. "I'd love some fun."

"Then you shall have all the wintery fun you could possibly want!" He slung his arm along her shoulders. "On the suitor front though, you'll have to work hard to catch Liam alone here."

"I figured." She gestured about the mansion. "It's what happens when you have a home field advantage."

"Yep." His smile dimmed. "Olivia isn't going to waste this opportunity to win Liam."

"Max?" Riley stopped him once they were outside. "Do you think this is right?"

"What?"

"Me trying so hard to win Liam?" She turned towards the pond, eyes narrowing in thought. "I mean, if he wants someone like Olivia or Hana or anyone else out there; should I be breaking that up?"

"But he doesn't!" Maxwell exclaimed. "He has to humor them because that's who Liam is. He's too polite and thoughtful to tell them he's already made his choice, i.e. you."

Riley shook her head, a smile forming. "You really believe strongly in your candidate."

He smiled once more as they walked to the pond. "I can't help it that the Beaumont's are backing the right lady."

He took her hand and squeezed it.

"Liam really is crazy about you." He whispered.

"You think so?" She asked.

"Not only do I know, I'll prove it." Maxwell helped her lace up her skates before he did his own.

The pair stepped out on the ice.

****************

That was a close one.

Maxwell ran his hands over his face as he thought back to his rash action on the ice. He tried to excuse his impulsive behavior as a means of helping Liam and Riley find a moment alone together, but he knew the truth.

I didn't want Olivia with him.

He stared into the flames of the crackling fire. What had he been thinking? Yelling out for Olivia to watch him spin. He'd nearly blown the whole cool, aloof noble persona he was cultivating by acting like he was twelve years old again, trying to get her to notice him.

Thank God for Penelope.

If she hadn't clapped and begged him to teach her how to spin like a professional figure skater, he might still be acting out in front of Olivia. Penelope's attention gave him a chance to once again ignore the one he wanted most. Olivia's frown formed the moment he turned away from her. Her perplexed expression when she rejoined Liam and Riley helped him keep as far away from her as he could.

When everyone decided to go snow skiing, he knew he couldn't join them. He'd probably break his neck in trying to impress Olivia. So, while his friends headed towards the ski lift, he escaped back into the manor.

Unable to sit still and dwell on how badly he could screw this up, he pushed himself off the couch and looked about. He needed something to distract him from his worries. His attention landed on a pair of crossed swords over the mantle.

I'll go check out Olivia's armory, he decided. That'll take my mind off things.

He lost track of time as he toured the impressive display of weapons and torture devices the Nevrakis had been fond of for centuries. As he got near a wall covered with war hammers and flails, he heard voices coming from a nearby vent. There was one in particular he recognized.

That's Olivia!

He leaned closer to hear what she was saying.

******************

Olivia's Ballroom...

"Harris?" Olivia called out. "Were you able to find the items I asked about earlier?"

"I was, your grace." Her butler answered. "I took the liberty of placing them in Lord Beaumont's chambers as you requested."

"Good." She eyed her ballroom and the work done to have it ready for the next evening's special event.

So far, it was exactly as she pictured it. Her lips curved as she imagined dancing with Liam. Her ballroom always sparked romance with the soft lights of the chandeliers combined with the wide expanse of windows showcasing the wintery beauty of Lythikos. Once everyone saw her in Liam's arms against that perfect backdrop, there would be no doubt that she was meant for him.

The other ladies will be forced to give up, she thought with glee. My history with Liam alone puts me in the top spot. Add in everything else I possess and it will be proven to be a lost cause for those poor, pitiful suitors.

"Your grace?" Harris cleared his throat once more to get her attention.

"Hmm?" Olivia refocused.

"Is there anything else I should put in Lord Beaumont's room?"

"Not at the moment." She checked the time. "Everyone should be returning shortly. Have the footmen prepare the refreshments in the main drawing room."

Harris bowed on his way to do as she commanded.

Olivia left and began to mentally prepare to steal Liam away from everyone. Along the way, she noticed Maxwell running down a hall towards her right.

She almost called out, then stopped herself. She still wasn't certain what was going on with him. The one thing she did know was that she was tired of how often this mystery that was the new Maxwell Beaumont was getting on her nerves. She detested anything she couldn't figure out quickly.

Her hope was simply this: that the old Maxwell would return once he saw the surprise in his room. When that happened, she'd interrogate him over who made him change.

She still suspected it was Riley. He was perfectly normal before she stuck her big nose in Cordonian affairs. Now this woman was trying to befriend everyone. Olivia wasn't buying her sweet, butter wouldn't melt in her mouth act. Everyone had ulterior motives for doing what they did.

She would find out the American's and then make her regret ever coming to Cordonia.

*****************

Maxwell took the main stairs two at a time. He nearly tripped twice as he made a mad dash for his chambers.

I gotta know what she had put in my room!

His door bounced against the wall once he burst inside. Breathless, he quickly scanned the guest room for anything out of the ordinary.

Is it a cool weapon? Maybe a letter finally telling me she's been crushing on me too?!

He shook his head

No. It wouldn't be that.

He noticed a silver covered tray sitting on an end table near a wingback chair.

He lifted the lid and gasped.

"SHE GOT ME CHEETAH CAKES!"

Maxwell slapped his hand over his mouth for that outburst. He rushed to his open door and peeped out to make sure the hallway was empty. He blew out a relieved breath to see that no one heard his undignified excitement over a sugary treat. He hadn't reacted like that since he was eight years old and first tried the perfection that was simply Cheetah Cakes.

He couldn't believe she remembered something so insignificant like his favorite snack cake.

But why did Olivia go to the trouble to find these for me? Does this mean she like likes me? Or am I just wishful thinking again?

He didn't know. He only knew that this made the trip here that much sweeter, literally and figuratively.

"I'll see you in a few hours." He said to his cakes. "Together, we'll celebrate the awesome duchess who sent you to me."

Feeling a lot happier than he had mere minutes ago, he went downstairs to wait on Riley.

*****************

The Main Drawing Room...

Olivia eyed Maxwell from across the room.

He's doing it again!

Maxwell was sitting next to Riley, grinning that dimpled grin of his and listening.

Since when did he ever just listen? He's always got some story or joke or anything that makes him the center of attention! Why is Riley able to be at the center? Why is he not mingling with everyone else? He hasn't even come to me like he normally does to brag about his skiing or whatever he did when he disappeared earlier.

And what in the hell is Drake and Hana doing hanging out with her??? I get why Liam has to be nice to her. That's just how he would be with anyone. But Drake?! There is nothing more unnatural on this earth than Drake Walker going out of his way to be nice! Come on! And is Hana that stupid to think Riley is a friend? She's in competition with you, you idiot! You can trust no one here.

Maxwell, can't you see it's all an act? As soon as she loses to me, Riley will reveal her true self. Then you'll be hurt because she isn't as sweet as you think she is. Are you falling for her? Is she actually playing both you and Liam?

Olivia couldn't take another second of their happy little group.

"Is everyone enjoying all I've provided?" She asked.

The group stilled. Drake and Hana eyed her warily. Riley nodded while Maxwell spoke.

"I've always enjoyed my time with you, Olivia." He said in a soft, unassuming tone.

Olivia blinked over that. She wasn't certain how to take that statement. Normally she'd chalk it up to his crush on her. But that damn tone! How was she supposed to interpret that now?!

She did not like him pushing her off balance like this. Searching for anything to make her world seem normal again, she zeroed in on the half eaten eclair on Hana's plate.

"Drake, did you notice the treats I had the staff set out?" Olivia smiled at him.

She knew he wouldn't like where she was going with this. A little verbal sparring with some carefully executed jabs would be just what she needed to recover from Maxwell's mysterious ways.

"What about it?" Drake asked.

"I remember how Savannah loved eclairs. She plowed through them as if they were the last on earth." Olivia laughed. "I guess we should all be grateful she isn't here or else no one would have a chance at the buffet."

"Don't," he hissed, "talk about my sister."

Drake glanced at his watch and stormed out.

"Wait Drake!" Olivia shouted with a giggle. "I'm not done--"

"Shut your damn mouth!" Riley snapped.

Olivia whirled back towards her. "Well, well. Look who has a soft spot for Cordonia's most popular commoner."

"Leave him alone." Riley commanded, getting to her feet.

Olivia's smirk faltered when she noticed the sad, disappointed look in Maxwell's eyes. A slight pinprick of guilt washed over her.

"As fun as that was," Olivia straightened her shoulders, "I should be on my way. I promised Liam a personal tour of my duchy."

She left the small group, doing her best to avoid Maxwell's unwavering gaze.

[litterednglitter]

In the Cemetery I Found

So about 3 weeks ago something crazy happened! If anybody lives in the area plz explain this to me...is it normal for any of this to happen!.

I work for WayMo collecting data, on Wednesday night going on to Thursday. I work an odd shift. 7PM to 4AM that extra buck 50 does make a difference in the Bay Area. We got to collect all them coins so we can live in the area for another 52 seconds okay folks let's face it. We are all on borrowed time over here!

Anyways, while I was trollin around SF with a buddy of mine we will call him rich. I have a route that I love to take every time I have full control of the car. That's when I usually go fuck off on company time. This job is basically joy ridin' with your homies and you getting paid 33.50 an hour. Yup! That's right, I said it! I said my wage Whoot! Whoot! Who cares! moving on!

We go sightseeing in SF like that house that exploded on 22nd St. Because he was roomed to have been cooking meth. Breaking bad style! After hitting up where all the tranny and normal hookers reside, I figured it was about time to go exploring in Presido. One of the most if not the richest spots in the Bay Area.

As my buddy Rich and I were driving around we made our usual stops around the area, the golden gate bridge, the Almighty Yoda fountain etc etc. It was getting later in the night by this time it was 10:43PM - ish and we were driving next to a cemetery. You know I always knew there was a cemetery around the area I just never knew it had the view of the golden gate bridge.

When my route populated again the yellow brick road on my company-issued phone told me to go IN THE CEMETRY!!!!! We looked at my phone, we look at each other, we look at the cemetery, and we look at each other again, then we both looked at the laptop and opened it up.

There's software in there at we can look at. The way I can describe it without getting sued is like Kentic from Xbox 360. I told my partner to pull up the software for one reason and one reason only! To see some ghosts! That's right folks, I wanted to be like the ppl from tik tok recreating Telsa at a cemetery but WayMo addition. So we both rolled down our windows and headed on in. Because nothing bad happens in a cemetery at night. >.<

Unfortunately, our laptop didn't pick up anything which isn't all that strange. I was really hoping to catch something. So, as we were approaching the exit the car was trying to take us through it was locked. The car route rerouted us so we were slowly making our way through the cemetery to get back out of the area. Out where we came in.

As we were approaching the back heavily wooded corner of this place It was really dark out. The moon wasn't even out so it made it all that more spookier!. I noticed something moving in the dark, head. Listen, I'm no stranger to a cemetery Im Mexican we are always at gatherings if it's not at a Quinceanera then it's at a funeral.

When I noticed something moving up ahead I was expecting (more like hoping) a freakin ghost or a the very least a thieving Bambi eating dead people's flowers. Thats it! There shouldn't have been anything else in there! Right! When I was approaching the back heavily wooded area I kid you not when I flicked on the high beams and the fuckery that transpired in the back there. I see 2 classrooms worth of kids that looked no older than 15yrs. in pajamas. Like it's the normal thing to do around here.

May I remind you, we had all the windows rolled down and we can hear a pin drop in the distance. I know there are a lot of parents around here what's the number 1 rule in parenting? If you have a couple of kids in the household and they ain't making any noise they're up to some shit! My buddy and I have seen at the very least 2 classroom sizes full of a bunch of kids in pajamas in the middle of the night in a cemetery being quiet! That's right you guessed it there was fuckey afoot!

There should be no dam good reason why there should be children in the middle of the night at a cemetery? The millennial came out and I have temporarily lost my mind. Yup, that's right I took out my phone and wanted to take a picture. My buddy Rich losses his freakin mind. and yells at me asking what on earth am I doing? I wanted to take a picture. That's what I wanted to do. He just wanted to get the fuck up on up outta there.

Why can't I take a picture?

They might throw something at our car!

So, what?

Do you really want to explain to our bosses why we are at a cemetery at night?

Well, he had a dam good point my boss already knows me around the office and I was once told that I left an impression. In management talk that means bitch we are keeping an eye on you. I already knew that I needed to leave the second I entered in there and we did. I wanted to go back but my buddy for the day wasn't havin' it.

On the car ride back to the depo like normal people we just had to talk about WTF just happened! Now I have my theories. My partner told me that... in his eyes there is no other explanation. These children are a bunch of Satanists! I don't think that THAT is the case.

To be Continue

[ultravioletwrites]

(here i am swinging at this)

"Shit shit shit!" Eddie yelps.

One week at his new apartment and he's already fucked it up. The bathroom sink, that is. All he wanted to do was wash a couple makeup brushes and he stepped out to do one thing while the water was running and now it's everywhere.

Most of his belongings are still in boxes littered around the apartment. It'd take too much time— time Eddie does not have—to rummage through them and fix this. He considers knocking next door but the sweet elderly woman across the hall still seems a little wary about him. Eddie makes a mental note to buy her cookies or flowers or, hell, offer to walk her dog because he doesn't know a soul on this side of Chicago and he could really use someone in his corner. Even old Bernadette.

He fishes his phone out of his pocket to call a plumber, grimacing already at the thought of footing that bill, when he sees it.

Grindr.

Surely, there's one normal enough gay guy out there with a tool kit in close proximity. He swipes through dozens of shirtless twinks and self-proclaimed daddies (why do they all take pictures from that same god awful high angle) before he finds him.

Steve. 24. Online now. 0.1 miles away.

Eddie skims his profile for glaring red flags, dutifully ignoring Steve's artfully crafted selection of pictures. There's one snapped from the middle of a dance floor: tastefully blurry in that this-is-completely-candid-and-I-still-look-good way, strobe lights casting Steve's angular face, hazel eyes, and pouty lips in an angelic glow. He's wearing a goddamn mesh tank top, too. It'd be cheesy if he didn't have that boy-next-door appeal.

A trickle of water makes Eddie jolt. It's spreading across tile floor, soaking the right side of his jeans. Focus, Munson. Boy-next-door. That's exactly what he needs.

He drafts a couple opening messages and erases them all before he sucks it up and chooses pathetic honesty.

I'm not looking to fuck right now, but my bathroom sink is currently flooding the bathroom

Three bubbles appear almost immediately while Eddie types out the rest of his message and waits.

Yeah why not

Eddie doesn't need enthusiasm, he just needs a screwdriver. He sends his address along with a customary "If you come here to murder me I've got multiple friends who will find you and murder you back even harder".

He mops up what he can with a towel and waits. There's a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Jeff, scolding him for inviting a stranger into his home, but Eddie pushes that aside. Five minutes later, he hears a knock.

Eddie rushes to the front door and pulls it open. "Thank god you're—"

Fuck Steve for being even prettier in person.

"—here," he finishes weakly.

Steve smiles and waves his screwdriver. "I'm here."

Eddie ushers him down the hall to the bathroom. If he sneaks a few glances at Steve's ass along the way, that's no one's business but his own. It's Steve's fault, really, for showing up in tight jeans.

Eddie slides in front of him, blocking the doorway, and holds out his hand. Steve passes Eddie the flathead. "Turn around."

Steve's eyes widen, hands held in front of him like Eddie's suddenly morphed into a rabid animal. "Shit, is this a roleplay thing? Fuck, wait, are you gonna put that—Look, man I really don’t—"

"What? No, no!" Eddie squawks.

"Then why do you want me to turn around?"

"Because it's gross and embarrassing!"

"It's a sink!"

"A sink that's clogged with my hair, Steve!"

"For Christ's sake, stop yelling at me!"

"You yelled first!"

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. "Fine, I'll fucking turn around. Just fix it and give me the screwdriver back."

Eddie turns on his heel and gets to work. He glances over at Steve every couple of seconds to make sure he's facing away from the gay disaster that is Eddie's entire existence. He's admiring the lines and curves of the guy's frame—broad shoulders and triceps flexing while he's crossed his arms over his chest, thick thighs, probably an immaculate waist hidden under that T-shirt—when Steve pipes up.

"Are you almost done?"

"Goddammit," Eddie mutters. "Yeah, just about!"

He wedges the screwdriver past the sink stopper and feels around for the culprit clump. Twisting, he snags it with the tool and pulls. The sink gives a promising gurgle as Eddie gathers the hair from the drain and tosses it into the trash.

"You can, uh, turn back now," he says sheepishly.

Steve faces him, expectant. He steps into the bathroom, skirting around the dirty towel on the floor, and Eddie hands him back the screwdriver.

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles.

“You’re welcome.” Something past Eddie’s shoulder catches Steve’s attention. “Makeup brushes?”

Eddie peeks over his shoulder and flushes. “I-I was cleaning them, when the whole…” He gestures vaguely. “I’m in a band, a metal band. So, you know, eyeliner.”

Steve’s stepped closer at some point during Eddie’s lame spiel. “I wouldn’t know, actually.”

The proximity makes fresh sweat prickle under Eddie’s arms. He can smell old cologne and something earthy radiating off of Steve. “We play every Monday at Oilcan Harry’s. Doors open at 9. If you wanted to… be in the know.”

The corner of Steve’s mouth ticks upward. “What’s in it for me?”

And what could Eddie offer him? He’s grasping for straws, a syrupy one-liner perhaps, when he sees it. The Lowe’s logo on on Steve’s shirt.

“Garden section, huh?” Eddie, feeling bold, taps the lettering on Steve’s chest. “I could really use some plants to liven up the new place.”

Now Steve’s the one blushing. “You’ve got the perfect balcony for climbing roses, you know.”

Eddie beams. “I wouldn’t know, actually.”

(Steve comes to his next show, hollering from the front of the pit. Eddie cooks him breakfast the next morning and drives Steve to his shift. He drags Steve down the aisles, pointing to every plant and listens as Steve rattles off facts about partial sunlight and soil pH levels.)

new fic trope just dropped

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 38 - Part 3

*Warning - Adult Content*

"Does Aspen know you're here?" Vince asked, almost immediately as I stepped in the room carrying my duffel.

He was on his laptop on the couch, the television playing something softly in the background.

"Um," I placed my bag down before scratching my head.

"Nope."

He blinked, before shaking his head and continuing to type.

Maybe it was the serotonin from being with Sally and Helen earlier or from my discussion with Lucas, but I was feeling bolder than normal.

Normally, I'd sit the furthest possible seat from Vince but I decided to sit in the middle, within arm's reach from him as he continued to work on his computer.

I could tell he was anxious, glancing out of the corner of his eyes, pausing his typing to turn towards me.

"Seriously?" he scoffed.

I frowned, noticing the same tense feelings he was feeling from the other day still present.

"What're you doing here?"

"I can't be here?"

He shook his head again before jabbing his thumb at the bed.

"If you're tired, sleep there. I'll sleep on the couch."

"I'm not tired," I told him.

"I wanted to talk."

"Talk?" he scoffed again.

He rubbed his temple before turning to look at me.

"Really?"

I nodded, before asking.

"What are you doing?"

"Work," he responded curtly.

He didn't elaborate, only continued to stare at his emails on the screen.

I hummed, letting the silence grow again before I decided to lay down.

Grabbing the pillow, I placed it next to Vince, resting my head a mere few inches from his leg.

He tensed but surprisingly didn't move, just continued to type on his computer and for a second, it reminded me of sitting next to Sam while he worked.

We'd be silent for an hour, then talking for hours like it was nothing.

The silence was never awkward around him, no, it was more the opposite.

It was inviting, soothing.

With Vince, it was painful to watch.

Watching Vince type made me wonder what it'd be like if he placed his hand on my head like Sam, rubbing soothing patterns through my hair like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Would it ever be like that between us?

I wanted to slap myself for getting carried away, trying to imagine something so implausible.

A couple of minutes passed in silence before he asked...

"Are we not going to talk about what happened?"

"Why should we talk about it?"

"You wanted to talk," he said incredulously, pressing the bridge of his nose.

"Besides, Aspen is not going to be happy if it happens again."

"He's harmless," I brushed off.

"Mostly."

"He looked ready to murder me that morning."

I waved my hands.

"No, he wouldn't."

He looked down at me like it was a blatant lie.

"Seriously," I told him.

"He means well and I already told him it was just a dream."

"It didn't seem like just a dream," he replied.

"Most people don't scream when they wake up from one."

"Nightmare, then," I corrected, a recurring one, I wanted to add.

He sighed, before shutting the laptop closed and that when I remembered the wound I made.

"How's your arm?"

He raised a brow, before looking at his upper arm.

"It's mostly healed. It didn't hurt."

I pouted, poking at the arm.

"Liar. I could feel it. You were hurting that morning too."

He blinked, before looking at the television screen.

He didn't say anything and it made me wonder.

"Did I hurt you somewhere else?"

He shook his head, sighing loudly before responding.

"I had a dream that night too. Nightmare. I guess I was still shaken up about it."

"Oh," I drawled.

"What about?"

I didn't expect him to elaborate, especially when he refused to look at me again, zoning out at a corner of the room and in a soft tone, he replied.

"You."

"Me?"

"You," he repeated.

"Sixteen years ago. That memory."

"Oh," I said softly.

"I had the same dream."

I looked up at him, his hands were starting to shake again.

"How so?" I prompted.

"My family... they were there, all of them," he explained, shaking his head.

"D-dead."

"Dead?"

He nodded and I could feel a surge of emotions emitting from him like he was seeing it replay in his head.

"Yours too. But..."

"But what?"

He took a deep breath in and exhaled heavily before turning to look down at me.

"You asked me to kill you."

I bit my lip, thinking about all the times I had wondered the same thing.

Was he simply scared like Lucas mentioned?

But even so, it didn't explain why he did everything else.

With my family or kicking me out.

None of it made any sense but I wanted it to, I wanted it to make sense, so I can understand why I went through what I did. I deserved to know.

So I looked him dead in the eye, narrowing the, before asking him...

"Why didn't you?"

A strange emotion flashed on his face before he blinked.

"What?"

"Why didn't you?" I repeated.

"Why kill them and not me too? Why not kill me instead, if you hated me that much? You should've just killed me with them."

"I," he faltered.

"I couldn't let that happen."

My jaw clenched, getting annoyed by the second.

I sat up to look at him harshly.

"What are you talking about?"

He shook his head.

"I couldn't let you die."

"Why not?"

"I just couldn't," he exasperated.

"I didn't want..."

"No," I shoved at his chest.

"Why? Why do those things? Why not just reject me or just kick me out. What did my family possibly do..."

"I don't know," he cried out, a pained expression plastered on his face, but it only made me angrier.

I was the one in pain, not him.

He didn't get to feel hurt by this.

"I just don't."

"You do know!.You're the only one that knows why," I shouted, feeling the tightness in my chest build but I continued to pummel at his chest, the tears starting again.

"Why would you do that? Why?"

"I can't."

He balled his fists, gritting his teeth.

"I can't explain."

"I need to know why, Vince," I tried to glare at him through the tears.

"What did I do to make this all happen?"

"It's complicated," he said.

"Then uncomplicate it, you bastard," I cried, slamming my fist on his chest harder.

"Why Vince? Why?"

He took the punches, even though I was sure it would hurt later but the emotions were too strong for me to stop.

Years of not knowing anything, feeling lost and guilty really took a toll on me and now he refused to tell me why.

It wasn't fair and I needed him to know that.

"I can't," I heard him say over my muffled cries taking in all my punches until I finally stopped, as I let out earth-shattering sobs into his chest.

"I just can't."

[authorred]

Hell's Gate (Hemlock Grove) (Roman Godfrey x Fem!Reader)

Preface: We all know Olivia Godfrey only cares about herself and her legacy. Any threat to that is a threat to her. You, the person whom Roman loves, is a threat. So, she opts to get rid of you. Little does she and Roman know, you have your own secret.

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, general angst, cursing, reader isn't a baby bottom bitch in this, Roman having a breakdown, crying, some dark gifs to appeal to the edgy readers, etc..

Part 2 here Part 3 here Part 4 here Part 5 here

You knew the moment Olivia walked into the room you were in, alone, that she was going to try something. What that 'thing' was, you didn't know. A dig at your integrity, your intelligence, your lineage; who knows. That's how it always was between you two. Underneath the superficial layer of flowery words of flattery lied malice beyond human comprehension. You could tell from the instance you met her she didn't like you. Why? You were involved with Roman. In fact, he loved you. He loved you more than he feared her. She didn't like that.

So, when you were basically cornered by the predictably unpredictable woman in the Godfrey estate, you knew some shit was going to go down. She was a beautiful woman. It was a shame she was so ugly on the inside.

"Mrs. Godfrey," you greeted with a slight incline of your head. "Is there something you need?"

"Yes, actually." She came to stand in the middle of the parlor room, heels clicking against the polished wooden flooring. "Roman is out currently, and Shelley is resting right now. I would absolutely love it if you would join me on a walk."

You slowly stood up from the comfy chair with a wary gaze. "Through the estate? Or over a bridge?"

"That depends on whether I feel up to dragging you that far away from the house." She gave a tight smile before turning. "Still, I would love to get to know the girl my son seems to be so attached to."

You nodded. "Alright. If you insist." You pulled out your phone and sent a quick text to Roman, who was out meandering with Peter due to some dreams they had about the Vargulf.

'Your mother wants to take a walk with me. I don't like the way she's holding herself. I love you.'

Your message was delivered--and Roman normally texted back moderately quickly. However, this was the one time where he wouldn't be able to see your message in time.

You pocketed your phone and smiled at Olivia, who gave you one of her own. It was pleasant--her teeth straight and white--but the feeling she gave off greatly contradicted it.

The day was beautiful. A calm, autumn day. A crisp 60 degrees with a cool breeze. The fallen leaves crunched under your feet, varying shades of red, orange, and yellow. Olivia has not spoken to you once the entire time, and you weren't quick to start a conversation either. Roman still hadn't responded to you--nor had he actually read it. That was fine. You understood what he was doing was important. You could handle yourself. Probably. Maybe. You hoped.

"How well do you think you know my son?" She suddenly spoke, hands placed delicately in her trench coat pockets.

"Hm," you hummed. "I would like to think I know him well enough. Maybe not the best, but I know him better than my other friends."

"Is that so?" She murmured. "Do you think he loves you?"

You shrugged. "I don't think I have a right to speak on his feelings. Especially regarding me. It seems egotistical."

"You know, Y/n, Roman is a brilliant boy. He is my son, my flesh and blood."

"I'm aware of how basic biology works, yes. He very much looks like your son." You nodded. You may not have been as sharp as her, but with the wit you did have, you would use it at every chance.

"And as his mother, it's my job to make sure nothing gets in the way of his bright future."

You slowed your walking. "Do you think I'm a hindrance, Mrs. Godfrey?"

She matched your slowed pace and looked over her shoulder at you. "Well, I don't believe you to be a benefit. You're a distraction. Surely, you understand where I'm coming from. I just want what's best for him."

"And you don't think I'm one of those things that are 'best' for him?"

Olivia chuckled lowly, playing around with her leather gloves. "I believe that you will lead him astray from the path I've laid for him. That's all. It's nothing personal, truly Y/n. You're a lovely girl, I'm sure. When you're away from Roman."

You nodded slowly, sucking your teeth. "It feels personal." You looked around your surroundings. You were at the back of the estate's yard--the house itself was a good distance away. "Are we finishing our walk here, Mrs. Godfrey?" You asked, tilting your head. You gazed at her eyes with calm intent.

"You're truly not scared?" She asked, slowly removing her gloves. She no longer cared whether you knew or not. You would be the only one to, at least. Aside from her, but she's very good at keeping secrets.

You smiled lightly and stared at her hands. "I've come across scarier things than a narcissistic Upir."

Her lips twitched into a frown. "Then I suppose it's good that that'll be the last thing you come across."

~ Roman fell against the wall, entire body collapsing into itself. Peter didn't catch him in time, but he did attempt to keep Roman's body from crashing to the floor. A violent sob racked through the said man's body, face screwing up in pure agony.

"Roman? Hey--it's okay, buddy. It's okay," Peter soothed, not minding his best friend clinging to him currently. "I know. It's okay."

By the time Roman had read your text, you were already dead in a ditch somewhere; disembowled and dismembered. You were found there a few days later after your walk with Olivia. According to her, you went off on a walk after an unpleasant conversation with Olivia, to which she stayed behind in the house because of Shelly. There were no witnesses and no evidence left at the crime scene enough to create a concrete suspect list.

Olivia was the one who broke the news to Roman of your 'absence'. At first, he just thought you needed space from her--which was understandable. His mother was extremely suffocating, and if you're not used to her, it can quite literally kill you. Unfortunately for you, it did.

As expected, he took it poorly, and Peter had to give all of his energy to keep Roman from lashing out and hurting himself or hurting Olivia (no matter how much they both disliked her). Of course, it pained the older woman to see her son in pain (but let's be honest, she didn't care about the reason), so all she could do was swear to him that they'd find the person responsible for your murder.

Peter couldn't be with him 24/7, and the two boys still had school to deal with as well. Anger coursed through him 24/7, a thin film that kept the grief at bay. Peter knew what was going on, and Letha as well, as Peter had told her. Anyone else who had the misfortune of crossing Roman during that time was left in the middle of a whirlwind of anger and hurt.

"Roman," Peter called softly. "We both know Y/n didn't. . . just randomly die, right?"

Roman puffed out a cloud of cigarette smoke--the fourth one he's smoked that morning alone. He nodded solemnly, expression already screwing up. "No way," he chuckled bitterly. "That woman could punch anyone's lights out." He paused for a brief moment.

"Shit," he cursed, voice breaking and stumbling over itself. "I didn't even answer her text."

Peter nodded slowly, reaching over to pat Roman on the shoulder comfortingly. "It's not your fault. Y/n would've understood. She knew how important this was. It's not your fault." When Roman looked over to his friend, Peter just gazed steadily at him. "We got this, buddy. We'll find the person. And when we do, we'll kill them."

Roman nodded in agreement, sniffing. Both of them knew this wasn't something to come back from easily. If anyone knew Roman past the fuckboy, hard-ass image, they'd know he wouldn't move on--that nothing would, or could, replace the spot you took in his life and heart.

Dirt and mud were peeled away like a sheet of ice, uncovering the freshly dug hole in the ground. Flesh was spiked with shredded wood splinters and blood soaked through the pure white shirt. A hand came up through the ground to claw at the surrounding solid dirt. With a hefty, polyphonic grunt, you pulled yourself out of your shallow grave. With eyes blazing an angry red and a voice like a demonic choir, you uttered one single sentence,

"I'm going to fucking kill that bitch."

[reporterleroux]

The Hybrids Society

Characters: c!hybrids x gn!striderhybrid!reader (/p)

A/N: Yet again suggested by my friend my ideas are on a low rn lmao

UPDATE AFTER WRITING:

I have been made aware that Ranboo is uncomfortable with x readers, I am trying to privately save any to find things that may possibly be uncomfortable for him in the future and avoid them, however I cannot do that with asks. This can be read as a friendship if you please, I personally don't think it's weird for friends to hold hands, but if youre uncomfortable please scroll.

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The hybrids of the SMP always seemed to be pretty innocent, doing their own things, living their own lives. But behind the scenes there was a secret society for them. A society away from normal humans. A society built for them. It simply went by the Hybrids Society, that's all. It was a group for everything, from healing and support, to meetings for when it came to more serious times. When it came to meetings, everyone had to attend, but otherwise it was open for any of them to stroll in and get what they need any time. The main people you would normally see there would be Ranboo, Tubbo, Fundy and Phil, Techno and Foolish would appear from time to time when needed, but otherwise the others were barley seen at all. It was content, quiet enough for them. They had all the support they could need, right where only they could find it. It was only these lot, until you came along.

It was just a normal day for you, strolling around the lowest points of your home on the lava, checking in on all your friends and family, even if they were full Striders and not Human hybrids. That was until 2 people saw you.

"Uh, Phil? That's a person, right?"

Ranboo asked Phil. They were out looking for some Quartz, it would usually be Phil and Techno or Ranboo and Techno, but he was busy today, so the 2 of them went instead. Phil looked awfully confused, so Ranboo pointed in your direction, both seeing you playing with the smaller Striders in the middle of the lava pool.

"Oh yeah mate, it looks so. How are they not burning?"

Phil said. Ranboo just shrugged in confusion. They stood in silence, careful to be aware of their surroundings, watching you trying to figure out how you weren't burning.

"Why don't we go down and talk to them?"

Ranboo suggested. Phil took a moment to look in his inventory for cobble, if they were going to head towards you, they needed enough.

"Got any spare cobble? I think I'm just slightly short of it."

Phil asked Ranboo. You didn't have to ask him twice, as he pulled out all the cobble in his inventory and passed it to Phil. You could tell he was excited to meet you.

It wasn't long until they were at a suitable level and started bridging towards you. About halfway through their bridging, you noticed them, and decided to walk towards them to help them save resources. They somehow didn't notice you, not until you started talking to them.

"Hello."

You simply stated. The bridging blonde was taken by surprise and fell from the shock. If it wasn't for you catching him, he would've fallen into the lava.

"Sorry about that, here, pass me that, I'll help you."

You said as Phil passed you the cobble, and you began to build a bigger platform for them to stand on.

"Thanks... Wh-whats your name?"

The bi coloured boy asked, clearly nervous about meeting you, now that it was happening in person.

"I'm Y/N, how about you guys?"

Ranboo looked at Phil, and Phil looked at Ranboo, both clearly confused on who's answering first.

"I'm Phil, and this is Ranboo."

Phil finally spoke up, pointing at Ranboo as he said his name. He waved in response.

"Nice names! Would you like to stay and chat for a bit? Obviously if you're not busy, it's just nice to talk to someone since noone here speaks English."

You said. The 2 looked at eachother, remembering what they came for.

"We gotta get some Quartz, but you can come with us if you can walk on land?"

Phil asked. You thought about it for a moment. You'd never been on land before. Would you drag them behind their schedule? Striders are infamous for walking slowly on land, is it the same with you?

"Yeah, sure! I'm not sure if I'll slow you down though, I've never walked on land before."

You answered, excitement dying down slightly in the second sentence. Ranboo looked at you in slight disappointment of your excitement dying down.

"Don't worry kid, it's fine. There's a first time for everything, isn't there?"

You nodded in responce, and Phil held out his hand to pull you up, as the platform was one block above lava level. You placed your bare feet on the cobble. It was cold, rocky. But nice. It was different, you liked that. Phil started walking back, Ranboo behind him and you behind Ranboo, surprising you as you were walking at the same speed as them.

You were next to Ranboo, the 2 of you walking behind Phil, talking while he looked for Quartz. Ranboo would unconsciously stop talking at times to study you and your hybrid features. You had pale red skin, dark red hair, and wore a raggy shirt and trousers.

"So,"

Ranboo began.

"What other hybrid features do you have?"

You thought for a moment. The issue is you didn't really know. You never went outside the lava, never tried something new before today.

"To be honest, I'm not sure. I've never left the lava before today. All I know is that I like mushrooms, it's the only edible vegetation here for me and it's quite nice."

Ranboo let out a slight laugh at your honest opinions, which made you smile. You didn't know what you did or how you did it, but it felt nice.

You were all there for a while, you got to know Ranboo quite well and he got to know you quite well. You got back to the portal, kinda upset that it was time for them to leave. They both looked at you, before looking at eachother, and back at you again.

"Would you like to come with us? Y'know, like live in the overworld with us, meet out friends?"

Your eyes visibly lighted up.

"Yes! I'd love to!"

You called out. Ranboo offered you his hand so he could help you through the portal, which you excitedly took. You all stepped through the purple swirls, and before you knew it, you were somewhere you've never seen before.

It was indoors and decorated like your home, granted, but you cod tell it was different. You felt scared. You gripped Ranboos hand tighter, he looked over to you confused until he realised how scared you looked.

"Hey, it's ok, it's a nice world out there, trust me."

Ranboo told you with a smile. You smiled back but still didn't let go of his hand fully, you just released your grip a bit. It was all fine until you got to the exit of the building. It was pouring down with rain. Phil looked over at Ranboo and handed him a coat. You looked confused.

"He's an enderman hybrid, so he can't go into the rain. Wait, since you're a hybrid from the nether, does that mean you can't go out into rain?"

Phil said. You shrugged before you stuck the back of your hand out into the rain. It only took a single drop for you to pull your hand back in pain. You could see where it landed, it was physically sizzling.

"Ah. In that case, wanna get under with me?"

Ranboo asked, lifting up the coat so you could get under. You edged closer to him, as he released your hand and rested it across your back and looped his hand to hold onto your stomach. You reached up for his hand with one of yours, the other pulling the edge of the coat down. It wasn't overly comfortable, it wasn't the biggest coat, and Ranboo had to bend down to your level due to his height. But it was whatever it took for you both to be safe. The issue is you assumed you were running and didn't know where to go.

"Uh, Phil? I guess we're running, right? I have no clue where were going."

Phil looked at you, before looking at Ranboo and turning back around.

"Don't worry, Ranboo will show you. Now, ready? Let's go!"

Phil said before running into the rain, the 2 of you close behind. Ranboo held you close, making sure you weren't hurt at all. He was used to this by now, but was aware you were new to rain, and wanted to make sure you get back in one piece.

You finally reached where you were heading to, and Ranboo stood at his full height, letting the wet coat fall off both your backs. Phil was aware of why you both didn't touch it and picked it up for you. You followed Ranboo into the place.

"This, Y/N, is what we like to call the Hybrids Society. It's a place open for all hybrids whenever they need it. It's hidden away from the non-hybrids, so please don't tell them about it."

Ranboo said. You nodded when he said not to tell the non-hybrids, as you both approached a corner. You tugged on his jacket to grab his attention.

"I'm not sure about this mind..."

You said nervously. Sure, you were excited to meet hybrids like you, but it was also nerve wracking.

"Don't stress, you'll be fine."

You grabbed Ranboos hand and walked behind him as he walked around the corner. Phil had already walked ahead.

"Hey Fundy, Tubbo, Techno! Were back!"

Ranboo said as he walked in. You hoped his tall figure would hide you since you were considerably shorter than him.

"Hey Ranboo! Why's your hand behind your back?"

Fundy asked, as Tubbo nodded in agreement to his question. Techno was looking through chests for potion ingredients, not paying attention to them. Phil was in the corner smiling, looking for some clothes for you to wear. Ranboo looked at you, as you looked back up at him. He smiled at you softly.

"Remember what I said, it'll be fine."

You slowly poked your head out from behind him, before showing your whole self, waving at them nervously, still holding Ranboos hand.

"This is Y/N. They're a Strider Hybrid and we met them in the Nether earlier."

Ranboo introduced you. Techno perked up at the fact you were found in the Nether and finally looked at you both.

"Hello Y/N! I'm Tubbo, I'm a Goat hybrid!"

Tubbo introduced himself as he waved at you excitedly. You smiled and waved back.

"I'm Fundy, a Fox hybrid. Nice to meet you."

Phil had finished looking for clothes by now and was watching you all. He could see Techno looking at you in curiosity as to your hybrid abilities. He made his way over to him and nudged him.

"Go on then mate, introduce yourself!"

Phil whisper-shouted to Techno.

"Uh, yeah right, sorry. I'm Technoblade, but you can just call me Techno."

He said in a monotone voice before turning back to what he was doing.

"Y/N, here, go put these on, it's probably more comfortable than what you're wearing now."

Phil said as he handed you the clothes he picked out, baggy jeans and a red shirt. You took them before Phil pointed towards where you could go change. You walked off to go change, while the others continued the conversation.

"So, about you guys,"

Fundy began with a smirk on his face. Ranboo instantly cut him off, knowing what he was going to say.

"Were just friends. They were nervous about leaving their long time home, and I don't blame them. We talked alot during the trip so I suppose we got quite close and they started clinging to me for safety? I'm not sure, we'll just see how it goes."

Ranboo said. It was a simple response, with a simple theory, he just didn't know if it was correct.

You later walked out of where you were changing in your new clothes, happy with the selection.

"These are nice, thanks Phil."

You said. Phil simply nodded his head slightly.

"Hungry? There's some mushrooms over there if that's what you fancy. They're overworld ones though, not ones from the Nether."

Ranboo asked. You headed towards where Ranboo pointed and looked at the mushrooms. They were way different to ones you were used to, they were beige or red and white spotted, rather than blue and orange. You looked back over as if to say "Are these safe to eat?" and they all nodded. You simply shrugged before taking one of each and trying them one after the other.

"Mm! These are nice! Different from the usual, granted but it's nice that they are different."

You sealed the approval of the mushrooms.

You hung out at the base of the Society for a bit longer, meeting more hybrids and getting to know others better. It was getting late, and there was just one problem. You didn't have anywhere to sleep. You started getting tired, and they all noticed.

"Hey, we got beds here, want us to stay here tonight and we'll find you somewhere to sleep tomorrow?"

Tubbo asked, praying the others wouldn't mind what he put them up to. All you could do was nod, before you physically went out cold.

"Damn, they are tired, huh. It's been a long day for them I suppose."

Phil said, while Ranboo picked you up before taking you to one of the beds and staying until you felt comfortable.

"Goodnight Y/N. See you tomorrow."

He said before walking out. It was a different life, of course it was, but it was going to be a nicer one for you, with more people to talk to, and a best friend you would trust with your life.

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A/N: a place for them would be nice where they just do stuff yeah

[jonesyjonesyjonesy]

wild, or that time of the month

a john paul jones x fem!reader oneshot

summary: That time of the month and the timing couldn't be worse since you have to play happy hostess tonight. But maybe John can help release some of the tension.

notes: nsfw, discussion of menstruation, blood, but also genuine curiosity and love for the menstruating body 🥺

a/n: Um yeah. I like period sex and I hope you do too. It's also my birthday and while I was hoping to have the next bit of Wildflowers up, that didn't manifest so. Happy birthday to me 🥰

"I can’t believe I’ve never seen you like this."

You bury your head further into the pillow and tighten your knees up to your chest. Cramps don’t normally lay you so low, but today, you find yourself unable to think about anything else. It’s the aching in your legs that you can’t abide.

You climbed into bed an hour ago at John’s behest after he found you crumpled in the bathroom with your forehead pressed against the porcelain tub. At first, you protested; there was a laundry list of things that needed to be done and you only had so much time. You can’t afford to be down for a whole day. Tonight, of all nights, you’re having friends over for dinner to see the new house. But he was adamant, always is, and as soon as you slipped beneath the covers, you knew he was right.

The door creaks open and John peaks his head in, the grocery list you scribbled this morning at the kitchen table in hand. “Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Are you feeling any better?”

You don’t reply with words, just groan.

“That’s not reassuring,” he chuckles and sits at the edge of the bed beside you. John pushes your hair back from your face, the pads of his fingers grazing your throbbing temple. “I’m going to go pick up the things on your list, but your shorthand is more like an enigma cipher.”

You can’t help but smile.

“I would hate to mistake baking powder for soda and ruin the evening,” he says.

You reach for the list and screw your eyes together to see through your haze.

“Would you like to cancel, darling?”

“No, we can’t, it’s too late for that,” you sigh. “Hand me that pen, will you?”

He does and you begin to rescript the list.

“Are you sure? They’d understand.”

They would, you’re sure of that. But you both have been looking forward to this for weeks, the house finally staged to your liking, the garden in full bloom, the two of you settled into a joyful domesticity. “I’ll be better by then.”

“You were muttering to yourself earlier, ‘I want to die, I want to die, I want to die,’” John quotes you somewhat melodramatically, but with a hint of worry in his voice.

You look to him; his lips are pursed together and watchful eyes trying to discern if you’re being honest about your state. “Don’t worry too much about me, I’ll…” you clear your throat, handing the list back. “I’ll be up and about by the time you get back.”

He takes the list, folds it, and slips it into his pocket gingerly. You are entranced by the way his fingers are so precise, even for pedestrian things. “I hate to tell you, but I’m not very convinced,” John says.

You aren’t really either. The cramps are aggressive, sending furious ache all the way down to your ankles. "If you could refill the hot water bottle on your way out.”

“Of course,” John answers. He knows he won’t change your mind on this, even if he wishes he could. He leans down and kisses you on the lips chastely, before leaving with the hot water bottle.

It’s only one kiss, one ordinary, habitual kiss, but it’s left your body confused. There’s a perversity to your time of the month always, the painful ache mixed with an intense level of desire you don’t normally seek to sate with John. Not when you’re so fresh into your period. You do so privately and quickly, which often alleviates some of the pain. Although, it has crossed your mind that with John’s assistance; perhaps you could get even more relief from both forms of ache.

You sit up in bed and press a hand to the outside of your underwear, giving yourself a gentle wave of pleasure. Once John leaves, you’ll delve your hands inside and scratch the itch, wash your hands, and be up and about by the time he’s back. He’ll probably look at you with raised eyebrows as if you’ve been resurrected from the dead.

John returns a bit later with the hot water bottle which you gratefully take from him and put into your lap. “Anything else? Before I go?” he asks with a smile.

There is something about him right now that you’re finding hard to resist. The way he provides his willing ministry is so genuine, so kind. You want him to destroy you.

“John…” you say and slip a hand against his slim waist.

“Yes?” his voice glides upward and his eyes narrow as if he knows where you’re going.

“Could I ask you for a big favor?”

John nods. A lock of his hair falls from behind his ear.

“You can say no.”

“You’re really selling this so far.”

You flush. “Well, you’re a very…you are very quick to please me and I don’t want you to feel pressured if – “

“What are you getting at, Y/N?” John asks with a crooked smile. It only makes you want him more.

“Would you maybe…” you trail off. “Could you…” You’re too afraid to say the words. You don’t want to sound stupid. You lean your face into the lower part of his belly and groan.

John laughs, “Love –”

“Could you fuck me?” you say, muffled into his shirt.

“What?” John asks confusedly, unable to hear you.

You take a deep breath and repeat, “Could you…fuck me?”

“Stop that, say what you need to say,” he mumbles and leans back to see your eyes.

You must rip off the bandage. “I said could you fuck me?!”

His eyes widen.

You recoil uneasily. “…please.”

“Um…”

“Like I said, it’s alright if –“

“No, no, I just didn’t expect that, I – “ John stops short. He looks away from you a moment, searching for the right thing to say. “That would make you feel better?”

You nod, “Yes, I think so.”

“You’re sure?” He’s skeptical. And you’re unsure if it’s resistance.

“Only if you –“

“No, no, Y/N,” John interrupts. The bridge of his nose goes red. “I’m embarrassed to say that that is something I’ve always really wanted to do.”

You notice that the fabric around his crotch has slightly tensed and you smile, “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“I don’t know why,” he half-laughs, “But there’s something about you this time of the month that makes me kind of…wild.”

Wild. Now that is a word you didn’t expect him to use in this context. You imagine that while you’ve been quietly pleasuring yourself beneath the sheets, he’s been hiding in the bathroom to try and quell his desire as well. You get to your knees before him on the bed and lean your front up against his. "Pheromones," you say with a devious smile.

"Is that what it is? Because it's powerful stuff," John replies dryly, all to aware of his erection and your awareness to his erection.

You tilt your head up so your lips are only a bit away from his jaw. “We’re idiots.”

John laughs, “Yes, we are.” He rakes his fingers through your hair, cradling your head in his hands. “But are you sure? I don’t want to hurt – “

“Just take good care,” you say and hang your hands on his wrists. “I just need you to take care of me.”

You knew that’s what he wanted to hear. A soft breath escapes him as his glassy blue eyes take in each of your features, one by one, before kissing you. The desire hefts forward again inside your aching middle, scattering the tension down the front of your thighs. Just the thought of him being inside is a relief in and of itself. You clutch at the front of his shirt and bring your groin to his. John’s erection is unrelenting and ready for you, but there are new strictures now. You pull back from him to his dismay, a dazed look in his eye from the pressure between your throbbing centers. “You’ll need to get a towel, love,” you instruct him gingerly.

“Mhm, right, right,” John agrees and flits away from you quickly to the bathroom, retrieving a light green towel. You regret the pastel scheme you chose for the bathroom linens now, but there isn’t time to lament that.

John unrolls the towel at the end of the bed. He pulls on the corners and smooths out any wrinkles in the towel and then looks to you eagerly. “Can I do anything else?”

You smile sweetly. He’s nervous, a combination of wanting to do things properly for you and the unflinching arousal that’s now built up in him. You crawl to the end of the bed before him and lift your arms. “You can take this off of me.”

“I can do that,” he grins, sliding the flowery fabric of your housedress up your thighs, to your waist, and up over your head. He drops it to the side of the bed and then brings his eyes to your nearly naked body. You’re suddenly feeling self-conscious, remembering how different you see yourself in the mirror this time of the month. But John’s admiring you in the same way he always does, a small crinkle between his brows and lips parted so slightly, like there are a million things he could say and he can’t pick out just one. He lets out a longing sigh, “You're positively, incredibly sure?”

“Stop asking me that and take off your clothes,” you laugh and lunge for his shirt. The two of you feverishly negotiate his clothes off, hands knocking together, hair falling in your eyes. Finally, he’s naked; his pale skin blemishes with chill and his ruby nipples harden. You caress his lips gingerly. “You are so good to me, John,” you whisper and run your hand up from his hip bone to his ribs to his clavicle. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

John doesn’t respond with words. He takes your head in his hands and hungrily kisses you with his blushed and beautiful lips. Wilting, you follow his lead, slow, graceful, until you’re on your back and John is eagerly thrumming against your entrance. His hands glom onto your breasts; he drags them down your front to your waist to the top of your underwear. He pauses. “I’ve never done this.”

You look at him incredulously. “Yes you have.”

“Not with extenuating circumstances such as these,” he mutters.

“Extenuating circumstances? What do you expect is going to happen?” you laugh. “Barbarism?”

John blushes. He’s a good man, but there are things that good men don’t go out of their way to understand until they must. “Look, I just don’t want to make a mess.”

“Let me do it then,” you offer and try to pry his hand off your underwear.

But John stands firm. “No, no, I should do it. I need to know how to do it.”

“You don’t need to know, it’s –”

“You’re making me nervous, Y/N,” John says manically, his smile betrayed by his jumpy eyes.

You throw your arms up over your head and sigh, “John, just do it, I want you inside me now.”

John’s going red. “You’re just adding to the pressure, god –“

“My eyes are closed. I’m not looking,” you laugh and scrunch your eyes closed. “Christ, you’d think you’re a virgin the way you’re trembling.”

John huffs with slight umbrage at the comment. You feel him dragging the panties down your legs. “Okay. I think I did it.”

You blink your eyes open and find him fixated on your sanguine center.

“Huh.”

“What did you expect?”

“Don’t know really. Is it – I can’t believe I’ve never seen you like this. You get one every month after all.”

You consider John's contrast a moment. His brow is threaded together and his eyes are curiously examining you, yet his cock is firm and angrily swollen as it waits to be enveloped. And you feel just as frustrated as his lower, eager parts. You wrap your legs around him and give him a gentle pull toward you. “John, you’re going to make me feel so good.”

“Really, because this is –“ his eyes widen a bit, still on your center. “I mean, barbarism, you were right.”

“John!” you whine.

“Every month, hm? Dear god, now I understand so much. Thank you for the englightenme…” he can’t finish his sentence as you lift your hips up to meet the tip of his cock and it rushes through your dripping core. John doubles over slightly. “Okay, okay.”

You drop your hips. “I’m in need, John. Need.”

“Need,” he repeats, shaken back onto task. John rests his hand on your knees and positions himself at your entrance, ready. He doesn’t expect how easily he slides in, gasps when he’s entirely inside you without even trying. “Oh my god.”

You smile at the relief of fullness and let out a moan. “There. Was that so bad?”

John shakes his head, mouth agape as he watches his small undulation in and out of you. “Is that alright?”

“Can go faster if you want,” you reassure him, resting your hand on his.

He follows your instruction; your extra slickness gives him an ease of speed that he isn’t totally in control of. You relish the wet sounds as his pelvis meets yours again and again and again. You feel like you’re soaring. It’s an easier feeling than ever before, the gentleness that your body is granting you with release. A joy, a true euphoria of letting go. Tensions slip away through your fingertips as you let John take control.

“Your eyes are…”

Rolling into the back of your head. Your tits bounce with each pulse inside of you.

“God, you look amazing.”

“Keep going.”

John takes your legs and positions them onto his shoulders. He pauses to catch his breath, eyes not leaving yours. He leans a kiss into the inside of your ankle and his hands slide down the length of your legs to your soft backside; he caresses it gently. “You alright?”

“More than.”

“You feel incredible,” he murmurs, a thrusting pattern returning. “Oh, Christ.”

Your angry garbled center has dissipated into fluttering exhilaration. You realize now that on the bathroom floor, this was the kind of death you were begging for and you start to laugh. The oncoming release creeps over you, heat all the way into your cheeks, fixing to burst. You reach as best you can to hook your hands around his thighs and moan out his name. You can see how it singes down his spine, electricity, hearing his name raggedly shunting from your mouth. His eyes squeeze shut, and he bares his teeth, tucking his chin to his chest. Oh, he’s close.

“Whatever you want, do it,” you say; your stomach muscles start to shudder. “Whatever you need.”

John’s eyes shoot open, and he stops, only long enough to sling both your legs over his right shoulder. You’re tighter now than before, gripping onto him, and this tightness sends both of you reeling into a groan. Your name, his name, god’s name, a curse, a prayer, it’s all right there in the way you’re convening at this sacred time in your cycle.

It’s the way John’s fingers curl around your thighs, clenching you even tighter around him, that joins you together into a shared, heaving and thunderous orgasm. John’s eyes go wide; his hips spasm forward as he spills into you, the groan of a fresh bruise from his lips. And you gladly accept each errant drop with your tight, wet warmth. You whimper with the angelic release.

John watches you, unwound and unburdened, so opposite how you’ve stalked around the house since you awoke this morning, and puts a gentle hand where the two of you meet. His thumb brushes through your sweated pubic hair. “Did that feel good, darling?”

You nod wordlessly.

“Did it help?”

You nod harder with a loopy sort of grin.

John chuckles. “Why have we waited so long? For this?”

“Because you’re scared of me,” you drone softly, your eyes shuttering to rest in the glow.

“What?! I’m not scared of you.”

You smile. “Yes, you are. ‘Oh, oh, what do I do with your panties? Am I going to hurt you? Are you s-s-sure?’”

“That’s not ‘scared’, that’s –“

You interrupt him. “I’m not fragile or delicate this time of month, John. I just need extra love even when I don’t deserve it.”

John goes silent and cocks his head against your feet. “Well, you’re always deserving of love.”

You flush and hide your face in the sheets. “You know what I mean.”

“You can be difficult," he concedes.

“That’s a kind way of putting it.”

“Downright mental, sometimes.”

You snap up to sitting and nudge at his cheek with your toes. “Would you like to remain celibate indefinitely?”

John laughs, “You’re proving my point!”

The two of you jab and rib a bit longer before John collapses beside you and pulls you into him entirely, his lips hovering right in the crook of your neck. "Even when you're driving me mad, I love you, darling."

You sigh contentedly and let him languish on your neck with soft, chaste kisses before you are both reminded that the time is ticking and the afternoon will be the evening in the blink of an eye if you aren't careful.

After you disentangle, you help clean John off; he watches, intrigued by the rusting redness that sheathes him (“Welcome to the barbarism,” you tease). Then, you leap up off the bed with a stretch. “Well, I feel much, much better.”

“Yeah?” John says with an adoring look in his eyes.

“Oh, yes, I could do the shopping even,” you shrug and find his pants on the floor, pulling the list from his pocket. “Let you take a rest.”

John sits nakedly, casually on the towel with an ironic sigh, “Thank you.”

You go to him and cup his chin in your hand. “I owe you the world, John, I really do.” You kiss his forehead and then begin to flit around the room to pull an outfit together.

John sits, lost in thought and quiet, as you rummage through the dresser drawers for another pair of clean and comfortable underwear.

“Y/N?”

You give him a look over your shoulder. “Yes?”

“What if we cancelled dinner tonight?”

You frown, “But I’m feeling much better.”

“I know, I know, I just wonder if that energy could be used…” John trails off and then clears his throat. His looks to his feet. “For different matters.”

You pause and a smile cracks onto your face despite yourself. “Are you suggesting –“

“I told you,” he sighs. His eyes laze onto you with a hungry, lip-biting smirk. “You’re making me feel wild.”

tag list: @jimmys-zeppelin, @princesspagey, @kari-12-10, @grxtsch, @edal-weis, @ritacaroline, @salixfragilis, @rogerfuckintaylor, @kyunisixx

✨ For more of my writing, visit my masterlist. ✨

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Can I just say Bones does not get nearly enough credit for how well he reads people?? Like, we all forget that he is not only a doctor, he's a psychiatrist as well. And not only is he insanely good at reading Jim, we also see him read and understand Spock (who is his opposite and with whom he frequently disagrees) and push him when it's necessary. It's Bones' words that make some of the most powerful exchanges out of all the 79 original episodes. Here is proof (and there's a lot of it):

Balance of Terror

Jim's doubting himself and is dealing with a lot of stress because of all his responsibilities and the burden of making decisions, and asks Bones, "What if I'm wrong?" This is an incredibly vulnerable moment for Jim, who always has to be strong, and when Bones starts to answer, Jim gets up and says "I wasn't really expecting an answer."

Bones immediately puts his hand on his shoulder, stops him, and says, "Well, I've got one." Completely unexpected by Jim. Bones starts off by saying "This isn't something I'd usually tell a customer," then gives the speech we all probably know, about how there are millions of possible earth-like planets, "but in all of that, and possibly more, only one of each of us. Don't destroy the one named Kirk."

Let's break down why this is so good. First, Bones lets Jim know that he sees how vulnerable Jim is being and that he's talking to Jim as a friend. He recognizes that Jim's identity is fundamentally tied to his role as a captain, and also acknowledges how deep Jim's doubts are going, and at the same time reminds Jim that he is the one in control of himself (something very grounding for Jim) and he is not alone (because Bones is supporting him). Most of all, he doesn't dwell on the vulnerability Jim's expressing, but encourages him to take action, which is Jim's natural bent. He perfectly adapts to how Jim functions and knows what to say to get him back into a place where he can do what he does best: lead.

The Ultimate Computer

Jim has been been feeling insecure and threatened this entire episode, because a computer may take away his role as captain. Twice he seeks out Bones for comfort. First, he tells him that he has concerns about the computer, but worries about his motives. "You have my psychological profiles; am I afraid? Of losing my job? ...Daystrom's right, I could do a lot of other things. Am I afraid of losing the power, the prestige? Am I that petty?"

Bones replies, "Jim, if you're self-aware enough to ask that question, you don't need me to answer it for you. Why don't you ask James T. Kirk? He's a pretty honest guy."

Breakdown: Bones responds beautifully by once again reminding Jim that he knows himself and is in control. That sense of confidence is all Jim is after. He also establishes earlier in the conversation that what Jim is feeling is not unusual and can be understood. Brilliant.

The second time Jim reaches out to Bones (this episode is my favorite for a reason), he's doubting his role even more intensely, having just been blatantly insulted and called useless (affirming his insecurities). He left the bridge, silently, by himself, and even Spock didn't follow him out. Bones knew he needed help and went to him, with some drinks (Jim initially responds that he's not interested in eating--coping by losing interest in food) and a joke and light-hearted attitude, so that Jim can feel comfortable expressing himself. Jim puts on an air of not caring (shutting himself off from his emotions) and says he's never felt so useless, and makes a cynical joke as a toast, "To Captain Dunsel" (the insult from earlier, meaning "unnecessary").

Bones stops him, looks him in the eye, and says "To James Kirk, Captain of the Enterprise." Jim says softly, "Thank you, Doctor," and when he downs his glass, Bones follows suit.

There's just so much good about this. Bones seeks him out even when he was trying to isolate himself because he knew Jim tends to distract himself and unhealthily repress things. And he doesn't let Jim get away with being blasé about how he's been hurt, but he doesn't force him to be honest either; instead, he lets Jim know he sees how he's feeling and how deeply he's hurt, and also reaffirms that Bones still cares about, respects, and most of all, believes in him. When Jim starts talking after the drink, Bones just listens and lets him talk, and when Jim responds to the call to the bridge, he follows him out. Back in action, and another job well done.

The Trouble With Tribbles

Just a brief point with this: Spock is just being silent here, which is typical for him. But Bones asks him "What's the matter, Spock?" seemingly out of the blue. Spock responds with, "There's something disquieting about these creatures," which means that he was feeling off, and Bones picked up on it. Bones then makes a joke ("Don't tell me you've got a feeling!") which lets Spock know that Bones sees what he's saying but isn't treating it as unusual (since the joking between them is their normal behavior). And when Spock continues talking, he hears him out (although it eventually degenerates into their typical spat).

All Our Yesterdays

Spock has begun degenerating into a pre-reformed-Vulcan version of himself. He gives up on trying to get back to their proper time and becomes irritable. Bones notices that something's wrong almost immediately.

He starts by asking about Jim (because he knows how deeply Spock cares for him), and Spock responds apathetically. This clearly shocks Bones, who then says "I don't believe it, Spock. It's just not like you to give up trying." When Spock doesn't acknowledge something's off, Bones presses him: "I understand. I never thought I'd see it, but I understand. You want to stay here. In fact, you're highly motivated to stay in this forsaken waste!" Spock deflects again, and Bones keeps pressing, which leads to Spock grabbing him by the neck and saying angrily, "I don't like that. I don't think I ever did, and now I'm sure." Bones simply looks him in the eye and asks calmly, "What's happening to you, Spock?"

Instead of hassling Spock about why he isn't doing more, he focuses on what's wrong with Spock himself, and he clearly has a deep understanding of who Spock really is. He starts by trying to get a feel for Spock's emotional state by going to ground 0: Jim. And he doesn't back down when Spock tries to blow him off.

Seeing that he's getting nowhere, Bones bides his time, and then starts something with Zarabeth, knowing Spock will jump to her defense.

When Spock pins him against the wall, Bones calmly says, "Are you trying to kill me, Spock? Is that what you really want? Think! What are you feeling? Rage, jealousy--have you ever had those feelings before?" Spock is clearly affected by this, and says it's impossible, since he's a Vulcan. Bones sees his opening, saying "The Vulcan you knew won't exist for another 5000 years! Think, man! What's happening on your planet right now, at this very moment?" Spock answers with the facts, and Bones tells him flat-out what's going on: he's reverting. Spock falls quiet, and says, "I've lost myself. I do not know who I am."

Bones is specifically structuring his responses (both here and earlier) to cause Spock to evaluate himself--to think, which has always has grounded Spock. Bones indirectly (so that Spock doesn't feel as threatened by the accusation) indicates that Spock's being too emotional. He wants Spock to see for himself that something's wrong, so Bones asks questions or makes open-ended statements so that Spock will have to respond. He also provides enough evidence (pointing out the emotions Spock is feeling) to prove he has a point and guide Spock towards a conclusion. He's talking Spock through it, using reason and logic, which Spock has always responded to. Bones' questions are also phrased so that the answers are objective facts--he's bringing Spock back to the verifiable, Spock's comfort zone. Finally, he does the analysis for Spock, telling him what's undeniably happening, but leaves the course of action open to Spock, so that he can regain control of himself by deciding how to proceed. Bones smoothly and logically guided Spock to the delicate realization he needed to have.

Of Bread and Circuses

Then of course we have this iconic exchange. Jim's been separated from the both of them and they are all in danger. Spock is pulling at the bars although he knows it will be futile.

Bones calls him out on this, and then thanks him for saving his life. When Spock brushes him off and keeps his walls up, Bones says, "I know why you're not afraid to die, Spock. You're more afraid of living. Every day you stay alive is just one more day you might slip--and let your human half peek out." Spock is silent and looks away, and Bones continues, now smiling slightly: "That's it, isn't it? Insecurity. Why, you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling." His face makes it clear he's gently baiting Spock, who then looks back at Bones and says, "Really, Doctor?" Bones replies softly, "I know. I'm worried about Jim, too."

First thing: Spock's theme starts playing when Bones corners him. So we're supposed to get that Bones is really laying him bare. But starting from the beginning of the scene, Bones recognizes Spock's anxiety through his illogical behavior. He takes the time to thank Spock for saving his life, in an effort to remind Spock that he is competent and in control--basically, trying to calm Spock down and reassure him. When Spock refuses to deal with his emotions productively, Bones is having none of it, and shows Spock just how much he knows. He can tell Spock isn't worried for himself ("you're not afraid to die") but also is well aware of Spock's actual fears (which are coloring his current behavior towards Bones). Basically, Bones is saying, "this facade of yours can't keep me out. You're understood. You're not alone." Saying it in those terms, though, would just make Spock feel weak for unsuccessfully trying to mask his behavior, so Bones frames it as a gentle challenge. When Spock looks away, he can tell he's hit the nail on the head, and he smiles because he's getting through to him. His face as he says "you wouldn't know what to do with a genuine, warm, decent feeling" telegraphs to the audience that he's not actually serious, but is looking for a response. And he gets it--Spock acknowledges, as Bones had intended, that he is currently dealing with emotions. And that's where Bones wanted to get him, because now that he's admitted it, he can move forward; but Bones doesn't want this admission to go unrewarded, and definitely doesn't want Spock to go on believing that Bones meant what he'd said about not knowing what to do with feelings, so he again tells Spock that he understands what's really going on, but without challenge this time. He just accepts it and reassures Spock that he's not alone: "I know. I'm worried about Jim too." They're in it together, and now that Spock is a little more vulnerable, he's able to see that Bones is right beside him.

So that was a lot, but there is definitely even more. Basically, give Bones the appreciation he deserves, because his emotional intuition is off the charts. (After all, as he is so fond of reminding us, he is a doctor!)

[maplecornia]

chapter 8

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.23K

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: romance | slice of life | fluff | angst | bts x female!reader | ot7

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: i'm sorry, but i AM SO PROUD OF THE BANNER I DID FOR THIS CHAPTER

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: cliffhangers | angst | fluff | slight mentions of self hatred | depression | mental health illness | self harm | occurs in the year 2024 | set in a timeline where BTS went to the military together | slight language

tags:@kookaine |@fangirl125reader |@kookiebbyxx |@taradevonne

Kim Taehyung never thought he’d see you again.

He presses himself against the wall, petrified. Heart pounding in his throat. His stomach clenching and tying itself into a knot. His breath coming fast, he wonders if he's hallucinating.

He wonders if this is just a dream.

If he drank a bit too much last night.

Even though he only drank grape juice last night.

Even though he remembers the way Jimin kicked him out of bed this morning.

Nevertheless, he can't help wondering if he is somehow imagining this.

Because you can't be here right now. You just can't, it's too much of a coincidence.

Your face flashing into his mind, he tries to shake it away. Tries to reassure himself that he was just hallucinating, that you aren't here. But as he looks around the corner, and sees you staring at Jungkook in horror at what you had done, he knows that this is real.

Inwardly, he smiles thinking to himself, She is like this with everyone.

For some reason this makes his heart constrict in pain and he pauses to take in your face.

You have broken out of your trance, and are offering the towel to Jungkook with a sweet smile on your face.

The same way you smiled at him before.

Part of him wants to walk over there, and say hello. But another part, a larger part, feels as though that would do no good.

After all, he's already met you.

And you didn't recognize him.

Looking away almost sadly, he rests his head back against the wall, cursing himself.

How could he be so stupid? Normally he doesn't feel this way, normally he can keep these feelings in check.

Why should it matter to him if you look really pretty today? Why should he care if your quirkiness is adorable? Why should it bother him if you're talking to another guy? Why should he care that its Jungkook, of all people?

What should it matter to him?

He’s only met you once so how could he have all these complicated feelings already?

The sad truth is, that he does have these feelings.

And he doesn't know what to do with them. After all, you don't even remember him. And even if you did, you wouldn't know that it was him. You didn't even recognize him as he was standing there, mere feet away from you on the Hangang bridge.

He can still remember that moment. As he watched you, a strange girl, hop out of a taxi in the middle of the bridge. How you didn't even notice him standing there, watching with confused amusement. He can still feel the impact as you fell on top of him, in a tangle of arms and legs. The heartbeat in his ears as you rolled off of him and ended up mere inches from him on the ground.

And he can still remember the feeling that erupted in his chest as your eyes met.

Groaning, he runs his hand over his face before almost reluctantly peeking around the corner again. He watches as you hand Jungkook the coffee can and smile up at him brightly, the same way you smiled at Tae once before.

He tries to ignore the harsh tightening of his chest as he watches the encounter. He tries to tell himself that it doesn't bother him, that you are nothing to him.

Just a sweet stranger.

Just someone who brightened his life unlike it's ever been before.

At that thought, he finds himself unwilling to let you smile at anyone else except for him. Of course, you can smile at anyone the way you like. After all, to you, he’s no one, just a man who gave you his beret on a whim.

A man who didn't even tell you his name.

As Jungkook leaves, waving after you, Taehyung turns away. Behind the safety of his corner, he tries to build up his courage, ]to walk out there and meet you, face to face.

No mask, no lies, nothing between you two except who you are and how you feel.

But just as he steps out of his hiding space, taking a deep breath, someone taps him on the shoulder, causing him to let out a startled yelp.

The entire lobby turns to look his way at the sound, and he just barely manages to hide behind the corner before you look his way in curiosity.

Taehyung doesn't have to look to know that the one who hijacked his plan is Park Jimin.

He waits behind Taehyung smirking in amusement at his best friend's reaction. As he opens his mouth to say something, Taehyung places his hand expertly over Jimin's mouth, silencing all sound. Startled, Jimin’s eyes widen and he tries to speak, but all that results is incomprehensible muffled sounds from beneath Taehyung’s blockade.

Giving Jimin a harsh look, Taehyung motions for him to shut up. Jimin pouts in response before rolling his eyes as Tae frantically scans the room for you.

Spying you in the same place as before, he watches as you study the forms on the clipboard once more before heading to a seat in the small waiting room near the entrance. As soon as you sit down, behind a small clear wall, Taehyung lets out a relieved breath, sure that you won't notice him now.

He releases Jimin, who was once more struggling in Tae’s secure hold. Jimin backs up, gasping overdramatically for air. Taehyung rolls his eyes affectionately before shoving his friend lightly on the shoulder.

“Stop it.” Taehyung sighs, crossing his arms across his chest. “I hardly even touched you.”

Jimin pauses, like a cat caught in the middle of mischief. After looking side to side a bit guiltily, he straightens chuckling a bit to himself.

“Sorry, I couldn't help myself,” Jimin explains, and Taehyung rolls his eyes before turning around once more and staring at you.

He watches as you push back your hair, tucking it securely behind your ears so that it's out of the way. He smirks a bit at the gesture, finding it hilarious that no matter what you do, your hair can't seem to stop falling in front of your eyes. You're annoyed by it at first, but after a while, it becomes a habit for you to push it back out of your face.

“Who is that?” Tae jumps at the sound of Jimin's voice so close to his ear. As he turns on him suddenly, Jimin withdraws coolly from where he was previously peering curiously over Taehyung’s shoulder. He raises his eyebrow as Tae’s ears turn bright pink.

“What are you talking about?” he hisses, pushing Jimin back behind the safety of the corner wall. “I wasn't looking at anyone.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow, confused.

“Yes, you were. You were looking at that girl, right over there.” He says, a bit too loudly for Taehyung's liking, as he pokes his head around the corner, and points your way. Frantically, Taehyung grabs Jimin's arm, shoving it down to his side before dragging Jimin once more behind the wall.

“Will you stop it? I told you I wasn't looking at her, so please stop drawing attention to yourself!” Taehyung hisses and Jimin blinks a bit stunned.

Taehyung normally doesn't act like this.

He's normally much more easygoing. Normally, whenever Jimin is acting a bit obnoxious, Taehyung joins in. For some reason, however, today is not one of those days.

As Taehyung looks around the corner once more, Jimin stares at him in perplexed curiosity.

“Okay, fine, you weren't looking at her,” Jimin says, and Taehyung lets go of him almost in relief.

If anyone were able to read through Tae’s feelings, it would be Jimin.

Sometimes it's annoying how much the two of them know each other, sometimes it's reassuring knowing that you will always have that one person on your side even when no one else is.

Either way, all Tae knows is that he cannot let Jimin know his conflicting emotions.

Not when Taehyung doesn't know or make sense of them himself.

He resumes scouting out the area once more, watching as you finish one page and head onto another. You tilt your head back, exasperated with how long that took, and let out a tired sigh. Taehyung finds his heart warming up at the cute and funny way you wear every emotion on your sleeve, and smiles at your little sigh.

Jimin pokes his head over Tae’s shoulder once more, squinting his eyes at you. As soon as he gets a good look at your face, you turn to glance out the little window that lets you see into the entrance where you entered the building not too long ago.

Jimin’s eyes widen at the sight of your bright eyes and he lets out a sharp intake of breath.

Tae turns to him, confused as Jimin steps back, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his recent downloads in his camera roll.

“Jimin? What are you doing?” Jimin doesn't answer Tae’s question until he finds his prize and turns to him, excited.

“Look,” Jimin demands, shoving the screen into Tae’s face. Rolling his eyes, Taehyung patiently takes it from him and peers down at the phone closely. As soon as he sees the picture Jimin has shown to him, his eyes widen the same way and he spins on his heel to take another look at you once more. He compares the photo to you, over and over again before confirming that it is you.

The same photo Jaejin sent to RM earlier this morning.

“Where did you get this?” Taehyung asks, showing Jimin the photo almost accusingly as though Jimin hasn't seen it before. Jimin scoffs, taking the phone away from Taehyung and glancing at the picture himself, doing the same comparison game as Tae had.

“It's her, right?” Jimin asks, Tae letting out an impatient sigh.

“Yes.” He answers. “But how did you--”

“RM sent it to me.” Jimin's voice is calm, sly almost. As though he has a secret waiting to be spilled, and he’s going to hold on to it long enough for Tae to spill his own.

Surprised, Tae doesn't speak for a moment, just watching Jimin as he slowly turns around to him, a smirk on his face.

“Don't you want to know how he got it?” he teases, and Tae, quickly noticing Jimin’s game, shakes himself out of his surprise running his hands through his hair.

“I….” he trails off, trying to find an answer that will satisfy the question but also keep his secret safe. His connection to the strange girl, the way they met, and every unspeakable, inexplainable thing that she has done to his heart. He can't let Jimin know.

Nobody can know.

Luckily, Jimin isn't planning to hold it in for much longer. He was never one for keeping secrets that weren't his own. He smiles, shoving Taehyung lightly on the shoulder as he moves down the hallway.

“Don't worry, I won't tell anyone.” He murmurs, heading towards the elevator where he came from. Almost reluctantly, Taehyung turns away from you and follows Jimin in panic.

“What are you talking about? Tell anyone what?” he asks, jogging to catch up to Jimin.

“That you have a crush on Namjoon's new assistant.” Jimin teases, turning to him and smirking up at Taehyung.

“She’s RM’s new assistant?” Tae wonders softly, before catching himself and shaking his head violently. “Wait….I don't have a crush on her!”

Jimin snorts as they reach the elevator doors and he presses the button before waiting patiently for the doors to open.

“Then why were you staring at her?” he asks, and Tae sighs in frustration. Jimin has the wrong idea.

There’s no possible way for anyone to start loving another person from just one encounter. There is no such thing as love at first sight, that's just people trying to justify being happy with the one they have chosen to spend the rest of their lives for. It's a phrase people use to fool themselves into thinking that there is some sort of destiny for them to end up with another.

Taehyung doesn't believe in that, he never has. However, he doesn't know if Jimin will understand his interest in you. Tae doesn't think Jimin will understand the connection he felt when he first met you. When he first talked to you. He doesn't think anyone will.

“I….” He begins, Jimin raising an incredulous eyebrow as he waits for the answer.

“I just thought her outfit was cute and was curious as to who she was. You know, maybe I could talk to her. Welcome her, make a new friend.” Taehyung spits out a bit too fast. Though Jimin doesn't quite seem to buy it, he looks away, nodding his head.

“Okay, I’ll believe you, but I still think there’s something else going on with you.” Jimin consents, the ding of the elevator doors opening and capturing his attention for a moment.

“What are you talking about? Nothing is going on.” Taehyung ponders, sidestepping to the side, as a few staff members walk out of the elevator.

Jimin and Taehyung bow respectfully, the staff doing the same before they take their place inside the elevator. The doors closing, Jimin responds, reaching to press the floor number they want to take.

“Yes, there is. You're acting especially weird today, and I suspect it has something to do with that girl.” Tae opens his mouth to respond, but Jimin holds up his hand, cutting him off. “Before we get into a fight about it, I’m just going to say I’m not going to assume anything, okay? If you say nothing is going on, I’ll believe you. But Taehyung, you know you can trust me right?”

“Of course!” Taehyung answers almost immediately.

It's the truth, he knows he can trust Jimin. He knows that his friend is probably the most reliable person to trust. Jimin knows Tae inside out, front to back, they are connected in the most intricate ways possible. Taehyung does not doubt that if there's someone he needed to place his life in the hands of, it would be Jimin. It wouldn't be that difficult, after all, Jimin already holds his heart, his soul, his life. They are just that close, a different kind of brotherly love, one that not many people understand.

This, however, is uncharted territory in Taehyung's body, and if Taehyung can't make sense of it, then how can his soulmate do the same?

This...this is something different.

“Trust me, Jimin. Nothing is going on. I'm just curious.” Taehyung reassures him, and Jimin nods, a moment of silence shortly following. Taehyung can tell Jimin doesn't quite believe him, and Jimin knows that he’s not getting the whole truth.

It’s strange, they normally tell each other everything, no matter how big or small.

Jimin doesn't understand why now would be any different. What could be so special about that girl that Taehyung would keep something from him?

What is it about her that Jimin wouldn't understand?

Shaking his head out of his dangerous thoughts, Jimin clears his throat and smiles, shaking his phone in front of Taehyung once more.

“You never answered me.” He starts, the beginning of a chuckle awaiting deep in his throat. Taehyung turns to him from staring out into space, looking confused.

“What?”

“Didn't you want to know how RM got this picture?” Jimin asks once more, and Tae smiles, before nodding, and settling next to Jimin against the wall of the elevator.

Jimin smiles, once more comfortable with the person he trusts the most in all the world before pulling up the picture once more. Both of them snort as they see it, the expression on your face causing them to smile.

“Who even makes a face like that when they eat?” Tae comments and Jimin chuckles softly, tapping the picture with a small finger as a thought comes to his mind.

“It kind of reminds me of Suga, when he ate that huge bite of salad. Do you remember?” Jimin responds, glancing at Tae who nods as the image comes to mind, his huge box smile making Jimin burst out in laughter.

“Remember?! It's such an iconic moment that even ARMY’s remember it.” Tae responds, tilting the phone so he can peer closer at the picture. “Now that you mention it though, she does kind of look like him.”

Jimin and Tae erupt into laughter, hardly noticing the ding of the elevator as the doors slide open.

Glancing up, Jimin slides the phone into his pocket, hitting Tae lightly on the shoulder before they walk out of the elevator and down the hallway, heading for the meeting room where they’ll be meeting with the rest of BTS.

“Anyway, RM got it from Jaejin, his assistant manager.” Jimin continues, and Tae looks at him, surprised.

“Jaejin? Why would Jaejin be sending RM pictures of a girl? Is there something he’s not telling us?” Taehyung asks, half-joking, and Jimin laughs, shaking his head.

“No, Jae sent it to him because he and his girlfriend were invited to model for fashion week. They were called away for training and Jaejin told RM that his friend will be able to take his place until he is done.” Jimin explains and Taehyung nods, trying to ignore the sudden panic in his chest at the thought of working with you in the same building. Jimin shrugs when Taehyung doesn't say anything.

“That’s all I know, but I guess she’s going to be a part of the staff now, more or less. RM only got this picture so he would be able to recognize her when she came in. He's been waiting for her since 8 this morning.” Taehyung murmurs something incomprehensible as a response, not listening.

Once more, he finds himself distracted with thoughts of you.

He wants to know everything about you.

From the way you laugh to the way you cry, from your likes to your dislikes, and every different tone or volume your voice is capable of.

He wants to hear the innumerable amount of stories you must have. How you came to know Jaejin, and why you came to Korea in the first place.

He wants to study your face, memorize your expressions, be able to read you the same way he can read any one of the expressions of his fellow members.

He wants to be able to read your mind like Jimin can read his.

Like he can read everyone else’s.

But most of all, he wants to know you and only you.

Turning the corner, Jimin spies the door to the meeting room, opened slightly ajar, the rest of BTS already waiting for them. Jimin sort of bounces to the door, opening it for Taehyung, as he waits for Tae to catch up. Tae smirks, putting all thoughts of you out of his mind as best as he can.

Though he longs to build up the courage and speak to you without a mask covering his face, he knows that right now, that is not important. One day, maybe, he’ll be able to find out everything he wants to know. One day, maybe these feelings of his will be safe, understood.

Until then...

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: this is one of my more favorite chapters hehe. oh, and whoever guessed that the man in the mask was tae, you get a cookie ;)

chapter 9 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

[mikkomacko]

Toothpaste smears at the corners of his mouth as he scrubs the brush over his teeth, the white foam getting dangerously close to dripping down his chin. Y/n eyes his reflection in her bathroom mirror, swiping a cotton ball of toner over the bridge of her nose. Last minute, Harry leans over the sink and spits, turning the faucet on to rinse his mouth and messy chin.

"One of these days you're going to drip toothpaste on your toes and I'm not going to help you clean it." She says, now reaching for her night serum. Harry scoffs, towel pressed to his face as he turns to face her. He drops the cloth on the counter, wiggling his butt onto the countertop.

"I've been brushing my teeth for over 20 years. Know what m'doing." He argues, eyebrows furrowing as he watches her rub the moisturizer into her skin. He does that often when they get ready for bed together, watching her skincare routine as if he were going to be rigorously tested on it later. But he never comments on it other than the occasional "that smells good" or "made ya all soft" when he presses a kiss to her cheek.

She's always wondered why he's so interested in it and apparently tonight is the night she gets some answers.

"Have ya always used all that stuff darling?"

Surprised, her eyebrows raise just the slightest bit, but she does her best to remain casual when she speaks. "Started having like a real routine a few years ago."

Harry hums, reaching for the dropper she'd previously held in her hand. He squints, reading over the label as she takes a chance to prod more. "Why bub?"

Innocently, he peers up at her through his eyelashes. "Don't know," he shrugs, "just never knew so much went into cleaning ya face. Thought some people just have good skin and others have bad."

He then reaches for her moisturizer, reading that bottle too. "There's no good or bad skin" she responds, "for some people acne is more manageable. For others it requires more time and probably money too. And some people just don't want to mess with their spots or marks. It's all normal."

Placing the products back on the counter, he gently reaches up to run his thumb over the pink bow on her headband. "So ya don't think I have bad skin?"

His tone is neutral, but a little too forced for him and she realizes why he examines her so closely when she takes care of her skin.

She lets her gaze meet his. "No Harry you don't have bad skin." She says earnestly. "You have very pretty skin. Look at how shiny your cheekbones always are." Harry smiles softly when she cups his face, running the pad of her thumb over his natural highlight.

"I've got a lot of spots though." He argues, reaching up to take her hand in his. Y/n shrugs, resting her hip against the counter. She can finish in a sec, right now she needs to talk to her extremely adorable boyfriend.

"You breakout because you workout everyday and you don't really have a routine Harry. But that doesn't make you gross or bad or anything. It's just normal."

He hums again, chewing on his bottom lip and dropping his gaze to their hands. He looks...upset. A little sad about her words. Y/n squeezes his fingers, drawing his attention back to her face.

"If you want to you can use my stuff tonight and if you like it we'll get you some too?"

Immediately his eyes light up, lips spreading into a smile. "You'd do that with me? Like show me how and everything?"

Y/n giggles, her heart wanting to burst with love for the man in front of her. "Of course I would. Can even use my other headband."

"The one with the bunny ears?"

She nods, amused by his eagerness. "Okay." He says, rising from the counter and releasing her hand to dig through the drawer for her white bunny headband. She gets him a clean towel while he slips the cotton over his head, pushing it up his forehead so the ears rest just in front of the frizzy bun on his head.

While Harry lathers her cleanser into his face, paying special attention to his forehead and hairline, y/n rolls her jade stone over her face before cleaning it for Harry. She can't help but giggle at the way his face crinkles and pouts as he focuses, his tongue poking out of his mouth.

"M'being thorough." He mumbles, not even glancing at her. Once his face has been rinsed and dried, she instructs him to sit back on the countertop. Harry does so, excitement buzzing from him as she stands between his thighs.

He's watching her intently when she reaches for the toner and serum he loves so much, and she takes a moment to button their mouths together. Sometimes it's difficult for her to imagine this man in a boxing ring, fighting simply because he loves it. Harry gently takes a hold of her waist, tilting his chin up so she can better apply it to his face.

"The toner cleans your face a bit more and gets off extra dirt and stuff that the wash didn't get." She explains, swiping the cotton ball over every inch of his face. He hums his acknowledgement, trying not to move when she drips serum onto his cheeks and forehead.

"This moisturizes. It's the stuff that smells real good too." Harry fights back a small smile, a sluggish blink dulling his eyes. They still brim with happiness, but he looks peaceful, enjoying the feeling of her fingers massaging his cheeks and jaw. She wipes her hands off, reaching for the little tube next.

"This is pimple cream. You just put it on where you actually have noticeable pimples but only a bit or it'll burn and itch." She says, squeezing some on her pointer finger. Then she dabs it to his face, remaining gentle.

"Wha's next?" He finally questions, his accent thicker with sleepiness. Y/n smiles, adjusting the crooked headband on his forehead.

"Moisturizer. Then roller."

Harry's head lulls back when she applied the moisturizer to his face, rubbing small circles into his soft skin. His whole body has melted into a cooked noodle-like state, a lazy smile on his lips. Before he can fall asleep on the counter, y/n gently rolls the stone up his neck and under his jaw. His eyes flutter shut, a satisfied purr rumbling his chest when she rolls it over his cheeks and under his eyes.

"Don't fall asleep on me baby," she murmurs gently, rolling over his cheeks and under his eyes. He hums, smiling peacefully at the feeling of the massager.

"Didn't know it felt so relaxing," he whispers "no wonder you're also so sleepy after this."

She finishes with the bridge of his nose, sealing the process with a kiss to his nose. "You're so handsome Harry," she says after she's put the roller away. He blinks his eyes open, cheeks squished when she cups his face. "Spots or no spots I've never seen another man as beautiful as you."

A blush rises to his dimpled cheeks. "Thank you darling, I like when you call me beautiful."

"Yeah?"

Bashfully, he nods. "Makes me feel....soft. Or gentle ya know?"

She looks over his face, heart softening at the bunny ears on his head and the sleepiness of his eyes, and she thinks about he spends his life doing violent things but he's really just a teddy bear at heart. All he needed was for someone to love that side of him as well.

"I'll always tell you that you're beautiful." She promises, giggling when he pecks a few kisses to her jaw.

"Beautiful, but manly right?"

Snickering, she nods. "The manliest bub."

[mercurysstars]

The Shadow Thief (part 4)

Summary: what happens when Peter has to work with the girl he hates to possibly save the world.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: swearing

A/n: I apologize for the late chapter! :)

_

"What the fuck." Peter said wide-eyed.

Peter quickly parked the car and unbutton his seatbelt. He opened the door and stepped out in front of the car. The Avengers compound was destroyed, all of the windows were busted through, the doors were broken and even a few walls were missing.

Peter felt as though his stomach was twisted into 10 knots. It was like some sort of sick joke. Could they really be gone? They were the earth's mightiest heroes, right? He clenched his fist, Peter felt tears weld up in his eyes but he never let them fall.

Y/n got out of the car and walked next to him. When she approached him, he didn't say a word, he just stood there and stared. After a few moments of silence, Y/n gave him a little nudge "Let's see if we can find anything inside."

Peter didn't say anything to acknowledge her but he followed her. Y/n stepped through the broken glass door. The electricity was cut so the elevator didn't work. She found the stairs so she began to climb.

The first floor they enter was the laboratories. They were all a wreck, it looked like they all had been scavenged through. Desks were flipped, papers were scattered, glass was everywhere.

Y/n looked over to Peter. His face was blank void of any emotions but she sensed he was still stuck in a state of shock. They needed to leave. She figured by now that who it was attacked them earlier had found where they were and sending another load of soldiers.

"Peter, where is the Avengers weaponry?" She asked. He didn't say anything or point anywhere. Y/n cursed him and herself.

Not knowing what else to do Y/n began to search through the lab to see if she could find anything that could help them. Y/n noticed a random bookshelf along the wall. What were the chances that could be a secret door?

Y/n walked over to the shelf. With all of her knowledge from cliché movies, Y/n began to pull on random books. Every time one didn't work she would throw it backward.

Finally, Y/n pulled on a book about ants. She heard a noise and the bookshelf moved backward. She mentally high-fived herself. Y/n looked over to Peter "Stay there." She told him. She figured he probably wouldn't have moved anyway.

Y/n walked down a flight of stairs and pushed open another door. When she opened the door her jaw nearly fell slack. It was a lab but 100x nicer. It felt like something out of a movie.

There were huge screens and holograms. There were long desks with pieces of different robots on them. Y/n figured this is where Tony and Bruce did their work.

There was a big cabinet labeled spider-boy. She tried to open the cabinet but it was locked. She tried again but ultimately failed. Y/n grabbed one of the screwdrivers off of the table and stuck it in the lock. She balled up her fist at the end and hit her palm against her fist. The lock gave Y/n a shock "Fuck."

The cabinet swung open revealing tons of different equipment. There was a bag at the bottom that Y/n assumed was Peters. She grabbed the bag and began to shove everything that could fit. She grabbed web fluid, web-shooters and she might have even grabbed one of his suits.

Y/n zipped up the bag a knife caught her eye on the other side of the room. She walked over to the knife. It was black with a few gold lines running through the middle. Y/n picked up then knife and a screen popped up.

A video began to play with a shaken up Tony Stark "Anyone who watches this SOS. You are in danger meet—."

The video paused and a voice interrupted "Vehicle approaching. Click to watch surveillance footage."

Y/n clicked on the button a video popped up of several SUVs pulling onto the road leading to the compound. Y/n was confused. Why would this pop-up? She looked at the corner for the date. The footage was live. She swore she felt her heart leap out of her chest.

Y/n tucked the knife in her pocket and booked it up the stairs. Peter was still where she left him and she ran over to him. "We need to go." He stared at the wall

"Peter we need to go like right now." He still didn't make a move.

Y/n decided to say fuck it and take matters into her own hand. If he didn't want to move she would make him. Y/n took a deep breath and slapped Peter as hard as she could. "Get it together."

Peter's hand flew to his cheek and he glared at her "Ow! That hurt." Peter shrieked.

"Good. We need to leave. They already found us again."

"Tony told me about a few safe houses just in case something ever did happen."

"Good enough for me." Y/n took the bag off her bag and shoved it into Peter's hands. What was he good for if not super strength.

They ran down the stairs, sometimes skipping two or three at a time. They ran through the door and to the car. Right as they got 10 feet within the car it exploded and caused them to fly backward.

"Son of a bitch." Y/n exclaimed. Her ears were ringing from the loud noise.

"That was our only ride out." Peter groaned. He was sure they were going to die. He figured he had a good enough run. He was surprised he lasted this long anyway.

"Maybe not."

Peter followed Y/n's line of sight to a motorcycle "Are you crazy?" There was no way in hell he was getting on that. He rather take his chances with the SWAT team.

Y/n gave Peter a look. One that over the few times he's meet her he's grown to know almost too well. She was going to do something risky, stupid, but not necessarily unnecessary.

Y/n gave Peter a wave before she broke into a full sprint toward the bike. She was going to get herself killed. Peter clenched his fists before running after her.

Shots began flying toward them and Y/n hopped on the bike. Peter got on the bag, she quickly started the bike and pulled off before he got the chance to argue.

After 30 minutes of riding in a random direction into the woods, Y/n pulled over. Peter unwrapped his arms from around her waist and got off the bike.

Peter walked over to a tree, bent over, and threw up. Y/n grimaced and quickly looked away. He may be strong but his stomach surely isn't. Of course, she didn't say that she figured he was occupied enough for the moment.

When Peter was done he walked over to Y/n and threw his hands up in the air "What in the actual fuck. You could've gotten us killed."

Y/n had to suppress the urge to laugh. She noticed whenever Peter got mad his face scrunched up and got red. "I just saved your ass. You surely could have stayed back there and tango with the death squad."

"Jesus Y/n. Do you even know how to drive a motorcycle?" Peter shouted.

"Well actually no." He had gotten her there "My fight or flight had kicked in and that's good enough for me." She put her hands on her hips.

Peter let out a long sigh. She was crazy. Actually fucking batshit crazy. "We need to get to a safe house, and figure out a plan."

Well isn't he just a bright one? "Well, Mr. Parker be my guest." She pointed to the bike "Unless you're too scared." She challenged.

"I'm not scared." Okay so maybe he was a little scared but he wasn't going to tell Y/n that. He walked over to the motorcycle and swung his leg around. It was just like riding a Bike. Right?

Y/n swung her leg around the back of the bike and sat behind Peter. She wrapped her arms around his waist "How Are We going to get there? Does your Spidey sense show you the path to follow?" She teased.

"It doesn't work like that." He grumbled as he pulled off.

They drove for what felt like hours. Y/n was pretty sure she dozen off a few times from the lack of scenery. Her arms were starting to ache and her but were starting to get sore from driving on the gravel road.

Finally, they pulled in front of a big cabin. It was huge, it looked like a place someone would go to get away for a weekend. The cabin was surrounded by trees and behind it was a lake.

Peter turned off the bike and they both got off. They walk up the stairs to the porch. Peter punched in a few numbers. There was a camera above the door. Peter walked through the door. A voice came through a speaker "Welcome, Peter Parker."

When Y/n tried to walk through the door the voice came through again "Unauthorized personal."

Y/n looked over to Peter. He had a clueless look on his face and he shrugged. Not knowing what else to do Y/n looked at the camera "Y/n Y/l/n."

"Access granted. Welcome, Y/n Y/l/n."

Y/n walked through the door "I wasn't sure that it would work." Peter laughed.

Y/n looked at Peter and narrowed her eyes "We came all the way out here when you weren't even sure if I could get into the damn safe house."

"I took a calculated risk." Peter crossed his arms.

"Oh so when you take a chance it's a calculated risk but when I do it's stupid and reckless."

"Before I take a risk I weigh all my options but when you do it's always spontaneous and mindless."

"Well, my spontaneous decisions saved your ass more times than I can count."

"Can you stop swearing for like 2 seconds?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Peter. Does my fucking swearing bother you?" Y/n seethed.

"I can't with you." Peter sighed pinching the bridge of his nose "I'm going to take a shower there should be some clothes for you in one of the rooms." He walked upstairs and out of view.

Y/n let out a long breath of air. Peter was such a stick in the mud. "Can you stop swearing?" She whispered to herself in a mock voice. God, he really did manage to get on her nerves.

Y/n finally took a chance to look around the cabin. If she could even call it that. It was nicer inside than it looked to be outside. It's looked like a normal modern house with the exception it had the Stark touch.

Y/n walked upstairs and entered one of the random rooms. It had a queen bed and a nightstand. The closet was huge and full of different clothes and shoes. She found a pair of open-fingered gloves. If she had to guess she'd say this was the scarlet witch's room.

Y/n suddenly felt dirty and decide that she needed to take a shower. She grabbed a pair of shorts and a shirt she thought could maybe fit. She walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, she hoped Peter didn't use all of the hot water.

She peeled off her clothes and stepped into the shower. She lets the warm water run down her back. It did wonders for her sore muscles. She quickly scrubbed the rest of her body and turned off the shower.

Y/n dried off and got dressed. She stepped back into the room. She saw Wanda's bed. It looked more comfortable than it did before. It was basically calling her name. Y/n decided to say fuck it and hop in the bed. She decided whoever was trying to kill them could wait for tomorrow.

Part 5

Taglist

@fandom-strumpet • @ginger-swag-rapunzel • @libraries-and-coffee

[eivorsjawline]

tw: the usual blood and cuts visuals

Chapter 7: Turn Back Time

Reader’s POV

A crescent moon lit up the night sky and the grass remained damp from the recent storm, crickets and frogs sang nearby. The wet, muddy terrain on the hill worked my calves as well as ruined my shoes. My escort finally dropped me off at the stones. Though I know it's odd dropping a strange woman off at a landmark in the middle of the night, he never asked any questions. The atmosphere was dark and cold, part of me felt scared to go back. There is always the chance that the stones could send me to the wrong time period, or even further back. I found love here, and even friends of my own. At least what I thought was love, even if the feelings were not mutual. How could someone so sweet and loving towards me flip within an instant. I questioned if I truly knew Eivor at all in the time I spent here.

Everything changed through the years, but the stones remained the same. Unchanged by any shape or form of mankind. People have come and have gone as they have sat and watched patiently. I wonder whether people have even noticed my absence and how I would explain where I was. It's difficult bearing the truth but having no one to tell it to otherwise I’d be deemed insane. I was back where my journey started, in the same spot engulfed by the tall rocks around me. The standing stone I had touched previously stood directly in front of me. However, I couldn’t bring myself to touch it as if a magnetic force was pulling me away. My name echoed in the distance from a voice I could recognize no matter how far.

Eivor stepped down from her horse with caution and let out a groan. Her knees appeared weak as she stumbled towards me and her voice dry and tired. I still felt anger towards her and wondered why she didn't just apologize earlier.

“Y/n, wait!”

“Why, Eivor?” 

“Im sorry, I’m drunk and I can't think right now. Please, forgive my harsh words… You deserve more than what I can offer you. So I…”

She paused and placed her hand on her stomach before dropping to her knees. I quickly moved her hand and lifted her undershirt to reveal she had been wounded. Though I’m not an expert, It was clear to see the wound was deadly. Eivor reached her hand outwards towards me for support. I screamed out her name whilst the anger in my body was now replaced with fear.

“Eivor, get up!”

She could hardly keep her eyes open and her body refused to stand up. For once, I had no time to think of what to do next. Running on pure adrenaline, I reached behind her and grabbed underneath her arms in an attempt to drag her but she was too heavy. My panicking only worsened from that point forward.

“Eivor, I need you to help me please… Just for a moment.”

Her eyes flickered with what little fight she had left in her body. I placed her arms around my neck, holding her wrist. This allowed her to place less of her body weight on me as I led her to the stone. She groaned in pain and could barely support herself. I quickly pulled her free hand onto the stone alone with mine.

This is the only way… 

Eivor’s POV

Consciousness started to return to me as a bright light shined in my eye, I could make out the voices of other  people around me. Everything was colorless, only white. For a moment, I truly thought I had died. I looked up to strange sounds coming from a machine that had cords hooked up to various parts of my body. Men and women wearing white coats surrounded me and they seemed to somehow know my name. I sat up to get a better view of my surroundings and my jaw dropped, unable to fix the frown on my face. I began to tug and pull out the lines connected to me and a woman advised me to stop.

“Where am I? Who are you people?”

“This is a hospital and we’re trying to help you. I need you to lay back down.”

The lights around me were so bright and everything so foreign, I felt genuine fear forming in my body. They mumbled towards one another, words I could not make any sense of. The woman in front of me started to fidget with a set of tools near my bed until I grabbed onto her wrist and she flinched. She squirmed and tried to pull my hand off before I finally released her.

“Tell me where y/n is… Please.”

“She's waiting for you outside… Doctor, she's moving too much she needs to be put back to sleep.”

What does she mean put back to sleep?

Before any further thoughts could form I felt a pinch in my arm and my eyes started to grow heavy. I could not fight my drowsiness so I succumbed to it.

Readers POV

I waited outside Eivor’s room anxiously. Thankfully, I had been placed in the exact same time period I had left. Nothing changed and I knew no questions would be plastered onto me by anyone I know. The door to Eivor’s room opened and a doctor greeted me, papers in his hands of x-rays and tests. He was a tall freckled man with thick brown hair and his glasses kept falling from the bridge of his nose. I stood up to shake his hand and waited for him to tell me any news of her.

“So, the wound has been disinfected and is ready for proper healing. We’ve done a few tests on her brain activity and everything is functioning normal. However, she has multiple scars all over her body. They look to be battle scars, oddly enough. I understand you tell me she’s a new friend of yours but do you know anything else about her life?”

“All I know is that her life has been a rough one… Now, when can she be released?”

“Soon. She’s very confused right now, unaware of her surroundings. Perhaps, once she's awake you can help jog her memory.”

“Could I at least see her now?”

“I’m assuming you’re not family therefore, I can't allow that. Leave your number and we’ll let you know when she’s ready to be brought home.”

I jotted down my number with the black-ink pen the doctor gave me. He told me she needs to be aware of her surroundings before any further stimulation. Even if the doctor seemed suspicious, they know only so little. I felt bad on the walk to my car, I didn’t wanna leave her all alone there but there was nothing I could do about It. I feared she would be angry with me once I picked her up. I started up my car and pulled out of the driveway, the rain trickled onto the front of my window and I turned on my windshield wipers. The drive back home was somewhat rejuvenating, being back relaxed me, I didn’t have to witness war and blood every second of the day.

I neared the driveway of my parking lot and pulled in. On the passenger seat my keys laid, I grabbed them and shut the car door. When I unlocked the front door to my apartment everything remained just as It was before, like nothing changed. My cat greeted me with a meow and I replied back with a scratch on her neck before making sure her food bowl was filled. I missed my life entirely, though I hadn’t been gone terribly long, a feeling of deja vu still resonated within me. The night would be long as I waited for my phone to go off. I turned the television on in my living room and kicked back, my cat laying next to me.

Just like old times...

Traveling through time seems to tire me, so I laid back and let my mind drift away. 

Eivor’s POV

I awoke from my practically forced sleep. I knew my journey to her would bring me here, to her strange world. Some more clothes would have brought me more comfort rather than this sheet they have me in. My wound was healing nicely, the pain of it wearing away though still sore. Some good ale would help me endure this. The nurses treated me well, making me regret how aggressive I had been in the beginning. My knowledge of the world around me made them suspicious but they knew I was fully responsive. We discussed my release, and they gave me news that I should get ready to go home. One of the nurses placed a bag on the chair next to my bed.

“Your friend left some clothes for you to change into when she left.”

A simple shirt and pants, strange material though. Surely, for such an advanced time I would have thought the clothing would be more complex instead, It was rather minimalist. The shirt fit rather snug but the pants were fine and felt comfortable. No one bared any weapons or armor, I felt nude without anything to defend myself with. Everyone seemed content and relaxed, I envied the people around me and the sheltered lives they had always lived. They walked around completely oblivious, and so did I. The concept was foreign but trying to fit in with the people around me was easy, just act like everything is okay. I heard a knock on the door once I finished dressing and the doctor came in to consult with me. He shook my hand and smiled.

“Hello, Eivor. Your wound is healing wonderfully. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I was.”

“The severity of your wound was extreme, even I’m surprised you made it… Your scars, how did you get them? If you don't mind me asking.”

I threw my hands up in the air trying to spare some time, my voice became soft.

“Oh, you know. Used to be a troublemaker, got into some bad fights.”

“I assume you're still troublemaking since that wound is fresh.”

“This one was an.... accident.”

Reader’s POV

The familiar sound of my phone started to ring. I knocked out so hard, I’m not even sure what time it is. I wiped the corners of my mouth before clearing my throat, the hospital was calling me. Anxiously, I answered the call and It was the doctor I had spoken to prior. Finally, I can pick her up from the hospital. I never got up quicker, throwing on some clean clothes and grabbing my keys on the way out the door. I whipped out of the driveway and headed towards Eivor, I think I may have even been speeding. Upon arrival I made my way to the desk to check into Eivor’s room. I took the elevator and pressed the floor number I needed to go to. Ugh, I hate the smell of hospitals. Disinfectants and chemicals everywhere, yet the taste of nothingness in the air at the same time. I found myself at her room door, and knocked to make sure she was ready for my entrance. The door handle twisted and opened swiftly, my heart began to beat faster when I saw the way she looked at me. I wrapped my arms around her neck and gave her a warm embrace.

“I’m so sorry It happened this way. We’ll get you back, I promise.”

“There’s no need for apologies, you saved my life. These people saved my life, there would be no going back home if it wasn’t for your quick thinking. I will admit for the first time there is true fear in my body for what lies out there.”

I chuckled, sure enough she had the look of fear in her eyes.

“Eivor, there’s nothing to be scared of. Come on, let me show you my home. Oh, I just picked the shirt and pants out real quick, sorry if the fit is wrong. We’re going shopping as soon as possible...”

Eivor looked overwhelmed, perhaps the bright lighting and a bustling hospital was a lot to handle for her. We stepped in the elevator and made our way down, the buttons and how we dropped seemed to fascinate her. When we got outside to the parking lot she was surprised to see all the cars moving fast, faster than any horse could go. When we got to my car I made a short, “ta-da!” movement with my hands.

“This is my humble stallion, she takes me wherever I like.”

Behold, my silver car. A few years dated but in almost pristine condition, I seemed quite proud of myself somehow. I opened the door for her and had to remind her to tilt her head down when entering.

“More of those…”

She pointed at the numbers in my car.

“They're called buttons, love.”

I turned the volume dial on my car and played some tunes. The surprised expression on her face when she heard what we consider music, we shared a look before smiling and laughing at each other. The moment was short when she ran her fingers over the functions, the radio station changing repeatedly and the heater kicking on and off… Like a child in a candy shop, touching everything in sight. Though I was trying to contain my laughter, her face remained serious and extremely focused. I got on the road to go back home, making sure to play some of my favorite songs for her entertainment.