#He barely ate for two weeks. And would keep looking for her before bed

[ode-on-a-grecian-butt]

[dollracha]

𐙚 i want it ⋆ h.js x reader pt.2

part one ⋆ part two

pairing: han jisung x inexperienced! fem!reader genre: smut, smau warnings: swearing ⋆ spit kink⋆ virginity ⋆ needy han ⋆ slight perv!han ⋆ reader is called “baby” and “pretty girl” ⋆ no use of “y/n” ⋆ reader is referred to by she/her pronouns ⋆ piv ⋆ munch jisung ⋆ oral sex (fem recieving) ⋆ fingering ⋆ light cum play ⋆ lots of praise ⋆ dialogue heavy wc: 3.2k synopsis: a week after jisung eats you out, he takes your virginity at your eager request. author's note: i feel like this is a safe enough space to say that i kinda didn’t wanna write this pt 2. i struggled a lot, but it’s finally finished!! didn’t wanna leave you guys hanging so i pushed through and delivered! if you like it feel free to reblog or comment bc those make my day <3

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

a pit of guilt grows in jisung’s gut. he promised you months ago that he’d take it slow. he broke that promise the moment it got too difficult to keep his dick in his pants. months ago, you would barely make out with him. you were so shy when it came to being intimate. but slowly, you got more used to it. slowly. 

he promised you that your first time together would be at the right moment. and he begged to get your pussy in his mouth before you were ready. he was such an awful boyfriend.

at least, that’s what he thought. 

jisung was oblivious to the lust that clouded your mind the following days. the way you’d wake up in the morning, only to feel slick between your thighs from the wet dreams the night before. the way you’d be going about your day, and suddenly the image of your boyfriend rubbing his dick on your pussy flashes in your mind. or the way you fantasize at night about how it’d feel to experience it all over again–his tongue, his fingers. how you'd fall asleep to the thought of his cock inside you.

he started a fire inside you without even knowing, and he needed to quell it before you lost your mind.

he’s barely even went further than kissing you since he ate you out. you know that jisung is scared to force you. but you also know that you’re ready. 

instead of asking him to fuck you, like any rational person would do, you decide the best way to what you want is to seduce him into it. it isn’t hard. really, it’s stupid easy. even a virgin can do it. 

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

when jisung gets into your apartment, all he wants to do is cuddle you while you stroke his hair. it’s one of the tamer things he’s been dreaming of all day. 

“baby?” he says, and shuts your apartment door. it’s silent. “baby?”

“bedroom.” is all you reply. when he opens the door, he pauses. he definitely had something to say with the way his mouth hangs open, but as soon as he sees you it’s thrown out the window. you see his adams apple bob as he swallows, and takes in the sight of you: naked except for a thin, cropped camisole and panties, your sweatshirt barely covering your arms before it falls to the floor.

“jisung.” you try your best to keep the amusement out of your voice. 

“shit! sorry, baby.” he snaps out of it quickly, adverting his gaze to the wall behind you. half of his thoughts for the past week come back to him all at once. seeing you barely covered makes the blood rush to his face, and his dick. it’s an instant reminder of how he had you just a week ago. he doesn’t look back to you, he might be strong enough mentally, but his dick sure isn’t. traitor.

“how was your day?” you're so casual about it, sauntering up to him and hugging him like you're not practically naked in front of him. like your tits don't press up against his chest when you hug him tightly.

“good. it was good. i missed you.” he's trying to stay calm. keep his dick from flying out of his pants like some deranged, horny adolescent who just discovered porn.

“yeah? still wanna cuddle like you wanted to earlier?” you ask, referencing a text he sent you a few hours ago.

screw his dick, his heart needed you more.

jisung sits on your bed, his back resting against the headboard. he watches as you climb into his lap, bare thighs against his sweats. you're so warm, and you smell so good… you're gonna kill him one day.

the moment your hands are in his hair, he's taking a deep, grounding breath. he loves when you play with his hair, it's the perfect stress relief for him. his girl, all pretty in his lap, running her fingers through his hair. dream come fucking true.

jisung can't help the low groan that escapes his lips as he adjusts his position. his arms wrap around you, shifting you in his lap so you're not sitting on his dick.

“fuck, baby.” he mutters. his eyes are shut, teeth biting at his lip to keep himself quiet.

it's cute, really. how worked up your boyfriend gets over you. you can't help but kiss the corner of his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as you try to push things further.

“kiss me, jisung?” the way you ask him is so sweet, so innocent sounding. like you don’t have a plan (you do) and all the pieces aren’t falling into place (they are). he can't resist, leaning up to kiss you short, sweet, and chaste. 

it's not enough. you take charge, kissing him and shifting in his lap to get a better angle. he gets the message, and lets you lead the kiss. in no time you're deepening it, your tongue in his mouth, and jisung's quick to pull back, your unusual boldness finally catching him off guard. 

“you good, baby?”

“mhm.”

“really?”

“you haven't kissed me in forever.” you're quick to defend yourself with a pout. forever, a week… same thing.

“c'mon, baby. you know i don't wanna rush you… i wanna take it slow with you, you asked me that and i'm doing my best…” he's looking at you like you’re too good for him, or he’s too bad for you. “you really don't know how hard that is for me, sometimes.” he mutters, eyes averting away from you. his hands come to rest on your hips, and it illustrates his point: he can't keep his hands off you.

“you're so gorgeous… prettiest girl i’ve ever seen. and you've got no idea how badly i just wanna push you down on the bed and fuck you sometimes.” jisung takes his hands off you, like they'll betray him. his hands ball up into fists at his sides. “you deserve someone who's able to wait for you, patiently.”

you don't like the implication of jisung's words. that you might ‘deserve’ someone better than him. your hands reach for his wrists, and guide his hands back to your body where they currently belong.

“i don't want anyone else, jisung, only you. it felt good when you ate me out. i liked it. i want more.” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “fuck me. please?” you ask, thumbing over his cheeks. your eyes are so warm, so full of love for your just slightly perverted boyfriend.

“i don't wanna make you wait anymore. i'm ready now. please? i want it.”

jisung can't resist you: his dick is throbbing in his sweats, his mind clouded because you look so damn good on his lap. you're begging him to take your virginity. you’re clearing up the doubt and guilt in his mind. who is he to deny you any further? 

“i love you.” he grins, shaking his head. his hands travel up from your hips to your waist, and he presses a quick kiss to your cheek. “lie down, baby. let me take care of you.”

you’re quick to push yourself off his lap, and lie down beside his sitting form. there’s an air of excitement bouncing between you two as he kneels between your legs. he sits back to admire you beneath him. 

the way your hair lies behind you, the eager look in your eyes, the gloss of your lips from the messy kiss you shared. the way your top scrunches up beneath your tits, the strap barely falling off your shoulder. It’s the little nuances of your appearance that have him feeling like the wind’s been knocked from his lungs, and he wants to commit that beauty to memory, write about it like he’ll ever find the right words to describe you.

debauched. hot. perfect. ‘mine’. 

he can’t control himself, hands wandering your body to brush up your thighs. they reach your ribs and begin pushing up your top, freeing your tits for him to grope and tease. he takes in the way your breath catches, notes the things he does what makes you react. you’re so reactive and all he’s done is feel you up.

“shh… baby, i know…” he whispers as he takes your nipple between his thumb and index finger to give it a rough pinch. “want it so bad, right? want me to just put it in?” 

you nod. he’s worked you up quickly. “not yet. my girl deserves a special first time. i can’t just put it in. what kind of boyfriend would i be?”

“but, ji–” jisung’s hands trailing down your ribcage to your hips. his thumbs soothe over the skin, but his grip is firm, and keeps you in your place. 

“don’t be a brat.” the sudden sternness in his voice has you shutting up immediately. you don’t think he’s ever spoken to you with such strictness… it turns you on. with that, he stands, and pulls you to the edge of the bed. 

“let me take care of you.” his voice is softer as he speaks and drops to his knees on the floor. he ends all your thoughts of impatience the moment he begins kissing up your inner thighs. “gotta prep my girl first, okay?”

there’s a gentleness in his touch, as he spreads your thighs a little wider, taking in the sight of you. as if he didn’t make you cum on his tongue with no regards for your virgin status just a week ago. “relax f’me.”

he spreads your pussy open with two fingers, and in seconds there’s a slow, wet trail of his spit dripping down your clit. jisung starts with slow, gentle licks that have you melting into his touch. he works up a fire inside you that spreads with every deep shallow breath, every barely audible whine from your lips. when your wetness and his saliva are all glistening across his chin, he pulls away. “how’s it feel, pretty girl?”

“good.” you breathe out, and suck in a deep breath. “want more.” you roll your hips, desperate to get his mouth back on you. 

"yeah? more what?” jisung rubs your thighs, giving you a break whether you like it or not. it’s a form of self control for himself as well, he can’t get lost in eating you out if he stops. “what do you want more of, baby? tell me.”

honestly, you don’t know. you just want more of the feeling he’s giving you, the fire that builds slowly and threatens to take your breath away. luckily, jisung is more than happy to give you options. “want more of my mouth? or do you want to try my fingers?”

“just wanna feel good.” you decide, and jisung smiles. you’re cute, and you trust him with to make you feel good, even if you don’t know what you want. he’s eager now, your plea spurring him on. jisung teases his finger at your entrance, and slowly inserts it as he begins to suck on your clit. it’s not enough, not for jisung. as soon as he feels you relaxing around one finger, he’s quick to insert anther. it’s not a hard stretch. not when your pussy’s being so greedy, sucking in his fingers as he sucks on your clit. 

all the while you’re moaning his name so sweetly, rutting your hips up into his mouth like he’s just a pillow for you to hump. “fuck, baby…” he’s moaning into your pussy, reaching his arms beneath your thighs to pull you closer.

“ji…” the way you moan his name is obscene. he wants to hear it again.

“cum on my tongue.” it’s somewhere between a command and a plea. however he asks, he needs to see it again, feel it again–fuck, he needs to taste it again. “cum on my tongue and you can have my dick, baby. ‘s all yours.” 

it’s not lost on him that you’re close when your hands reach for his hair, tugging in a way that makes his eyes roll to the back of his head. he knows before you do, and he’s doing all he can to make you tip over the edge. 

“please–” 

the fire he coaxes within you builds and builds. until you’re warm to the touch and can’t speak anything but his name in broken moans. he holds you down when you cum, your hips fighting against his strength as his fingers fuck you through it.

“good girl… that’s my good girl…” he praises. his eyes are glued to your face, taking in every frame of you as you come undone on his fingers. once your breathing calms, and you lie still on the bed, his eyes trail down to your pussy. his fingers gather the wetness of your cunt and pull out in tandem with your whine of “too much!”

“look at you, baby…” he coos as he stands. “that’s my good girl, cumming on my tongue so pretty for me.” his clean hand trails up your body, and rests against your throat. his hand is warm, almost weightless as it rests above your throat. it’s oddly grounding for you.

“made such a mess, though…” an idea pops into his head.  “you ever taste yourself, baby?” you shake your head no. jisung brings two fingers up to your lips. “go ahead.” he brushes the slick pads of his fingers against your bottom lip.

“clean up the mess you made.”

jisung groans as you take his fingers into your mouth. He can’t recall seeing a sweeter sight in his life. the way you look up at him, eyes wide and glossy as his fingers hit the back of your throat. you don’t stop though. you keep sucking, even beginning to bob your head a little and it goes straight to his dick.

he’s enjoying this too much.

jisung slides his fingers out of your mouth, and runs the same hand through his hair. “feel good?” he takes note of the look on your face, so fucked out already. you nod. it’s not a good enough response for him. “talk to me.” he’s gentle as he speaks, and brushes your hair out of your face. 

“feels good, ji.” you sigh, and shut your eyes. 

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“want more? or are you done for the night?” jisung’s thumb caresses your cheek, the other hand sits softly at your waist.

“more, please?” 

“of course, baby. you did so good for me. i promised you i’d give you my cock, didn’t i? gotta give my pretty girl what she wants.” it makes him impatient, to know that he has you prepped and eager for him. but he has to start slowly. 

he pushes his sweats down beneath his thighs, too impatient to fully take them off. he fists his heavy cock in his hands as the tip prods at your entrance. 

“gonna put it in now, okay?” he doesn't give you much time to think about it and before you can reply, he's pushing in. 

“jisung…” your eyes shut as you moan his name, and jisung watches the way your pussy welcomes him. you watch jisung: the hungry look in his eyes, the messiness of his hair, the way he breathes deep and slow as he takes you. half his cock is nestled inside you when he finally breaks the silence.

“you're doing so good, baby…” he mutters, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “taking me so well…” 

it's then that he starts to thrust. calculated and slow strokes that have you gasping as clenching around him. jisung is captivated. his eyes are glued onto the way you suck him in. he's barely able to keep himself from fucking into you deeper. 

your eyes wander down from taking in jisung's expressions, to the way his hips fuck into you with all the restraint he has. it makes you want more, want to feel him completely.

“more,” it's not an ask or a plea. it's a demand. you keen into his touch, and your eyes lock. “i want it all.” 

jisung laughs. he can't help it, you're cute. “more, baby? you want all my cock?” he teases and slowly begins to pull out.

“yes!” you whine, “jisung, please?”

it's cute. you're so desperate for him. it's hypocritical almost. he's using all his self control trying not to fuck you like he's a fucking rabbit in heat.

without any warning, he's grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. he slides into you, slowly. he groans as he bottoms out. you reach out to grip the sheets, but he's quick to grasp your hand instead.

“good job, baby. fuck, pussy's made for me–hold my hand, pretty girl…”

jisung pulls back and he swears he sees stars. “fuck…” he doesn't know how much longer he can control himself. his thrusts are deep and slow, falling into the familiar routine he fucked you with earlier. 

it's not enough for you. not enough pleasure to satiate the fire hes stoking inside of you. “more.” you demand. “more, ji.” something snaps in him. he’s quick to fulfill your request, fucking into you faster. 

“so dirty, baby. never been fucked before and already can’t get enough.” you can’t deny his words, or respond. all you do is moan his name again and arch into his touch.

“close?” you mutter, almost unsure of when your own orgasm is coming. with that, jisung spreads your pussy open with his fingers, and spits right on your clit. the high pitched whine that leaves your lips makes him smirk. 

“i know, baby.” his fingers work fast circles against your clit, and he feels the way you tense and squirm against his touch. “too much!” and it’s not. jisung knows it’s not. it’s just enough.

 “cum for me, baby.” and you do: with little whines and moans of his name, with little rolls of your hips to chase the pleasure he’s giving you. you’re clenching around him like a vice, each flutter of your pussy brings him closer to cumming, and he’s already trying his best to hold off.

he can’t take it anymore. jisung pulls out quickly and fists himself as he cums on your tummy. “that’s my girl… did so well.” he praises, his free hand soothing over your hip. 

jisung watches as you come down from your high. you're so pretty. his pretty girl. all ruined. your hair's a mess. the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead. his cum all over your tummy.

“how are you feeling, baby?” he asks with a soft smile on his face. 

“good,” you nod, a barely there smile on your face as you reach for his hand. “more than good.” 

you tug his hand, trying to pull him down to cuddle you. it's a signal that jisung responds to immediately. he's pulling you to the side to spoon you. 

one hand rests against your tummy, and he rests your head against his other arm. he kisses your nape, then your shoulder, then rests his head against you. it’s peaceful. 

“i love you, jisung.”

“i love you, baby.”

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

[notlongtolove]

the cup holds the tea

it hits you all at once and you’re out of the booth in a flash, spencer right behind you. you’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto spencer’s shoes. the world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff

content: bau!reader has too much to drink and its up to bf!spencer to get her home. and brief mentions of puke... oh reader...

word count: 3k

note: well personally i don't know if i could ever love someone enough where i would lay on my bed in my 'outside clothes' but good on you spence! once i slipped and fell in someone's puke and cried all the way home.

a line: They’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this? This is something else entirely.

It is a kind of love, is it not? How the cup holds the tea, How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare, How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes Or toes. How soles of feet know Where they’re supposed to be. - pat schneider

The room hangs on your words, the perfect moment of suspense stretched like a tightrope. You let it linger, savoring the pause.

“And they ate every last drop of it!”

The punchline lands, and laughter spills out around the table, loud and easy. You beam. Spencer watches you, his gaze warm, almost reverent. He’s always known you had this gift—how you could spin a story, command a room. If he weren’t so completely in love with you, he might’ve envied it. No amount of books or degrees could teach him your knack for recounting stories with such flair, or your ability to whip up comebacks at speeds that leave even Derek speechless.

Spencer’s lucky, and he knows it. His eyes trace the curve of your smile as you sip from your glass, your third—or fourth? He’s lost count. He notices you’re not wincing at its taste anymore and well, you know what they say when the drinks start to taste like water. The fact that you’re tearing up at something Garcia’s showing you—a sloth video, from what he can tell, doesn’t ease his worries in the slightest either. He's not entirely sure what Emily has been ordering for the table but whatever it is, it’s clearly doing its job.

It’s one of those rare nights out, the kind where the team sets work aside and pretends, for a few hours, that the weight of the world isn’t on their shoulders. Rossi had insisted, his treat he said, but Spencer suspects it was just an excuse for the team to watch you two loosen up, to let your guard down. A carefully orchestrated opportunity for the team to see something they hardly ever got to see. They’ve seen you two in the field, sharp and focused, in sync like clockwork. But tonight it's the way you lean into Spencer’s side without realizing it, the way Spencer gently moves your glass out of harm’s way when you gesture too wildly. This is a glimpse of something sacred, something rare.

It’d only been about a month since you and Spencer had made it official. Everyone saw it coming long before you did, but that didn’t stop the teasing once the news broke. They could barely pick their jaws up from off the floor even tonight when Spencer had his hand resting lightly on your waist, steadying you through the crowd as you laughed yourself breathless, stumbling. At work, you both keep it professional, steering clear of anything that might make Hotch raise an eyebrow. But the dim light of the bar is ever so tempting. The bar is full of loud laughter and clinking glasses and you just can’t help but take Spencer's hand into yours, fingers laced without hesitation. 

Spencer catches the way Derek’s eyes light up at the sight, the subtle nudge he gives Emily. He knows they’re going to bring this up later, probably all week.

But he doesn’t move his hand. He doesn’t let go.

The booth is packed tight as you’re all wedged together, shoulders brushing. Everyone’s smiling, unwinding in a way you rarely allow yourselves to, laughter bouncing in overlapping bursts. Spencer sits nursing his water, content to observe. His eyes are drawn back to you over and over, catching on the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh and the animated gestures you make as you speak.

“C’mon, pretty boy, live a little,” Derek teases, “Just one drink.”

Spencer gives a sheepish smile, waving it off. “I’m fine,” he says, eyes flicking over to you once more.

He can’t keep his eyes off you tonight, it seems. You’re laughing, and It’s unmistakable, the adoration in his gaze, something so un-Spencer-like that makes Derek smile.

He knows Spencer’s not one to drink. You, on the other hand, seem a little too eager, maybe encouraged by Emily’s coaxing, and you’re already on your next drink, cheeks bright and eyes sparkling. You lean into Garcia’s cheers, your glass lifted high. Your laughter is bright and unrestrained, pulling everyone else along with it.

Spencer considers saying something when you're giggling a little more than usual, laughing too hard at a joke that doesn't warrant it. But he knows how you’d take it. You’d wave him off with that familiar insistence, the same as always. It wasn't like you couldn't hold your own, Spencer knows that. You’d held your own at Rossi’s birthday last year just fine, outlasting nearly everyone—everyone except Rossi of course. And that’s probably why he’d already taken his leave tonight, not wanting to get caught in the tail end of whatever chaos this night will inevitably bring.

But that was then and now— Well, it’s different now. Now, the role of boyfriend sits heavier on his shoulders, a title he’s all too happy to hold. And tonight, it’s a card he’s all too happy to play. It gives him leverage, an edge that makes him feel like he has a little more room to step in without you pulling the I don’t need anyone to take care of me speech. 

Spencer sees his opening as lean back into his side a little too comfortably. “Here,” he murmurs, pressing his glass into your hand. “Drink this.”

He hopes you’re just tipsy enough not to ask too many questions, as long as it’s something from the bar. For a moment, it seems like it works—you sit up, eyeing the glass cautiously, then take it from him with slow deliberation.

Almost there, he thinks.

You peer into the glass, squinting at the clear liquid, then give it a small sniff. Spencer’s heart sinks as your expression shifts.

“This is water,” you say, suspiciously.

“Yes, it is,” he admits.

Your brow furrows, the faintest pout tugging at your lips. “I’m drinking vodka.”

“And now you’re drinking water.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, and I’d rather not carry you out of here tonight,” he says softly, the faintest flush colouring his cheeks.

You look up at him, unimpressed, but he stays firm. “Just drink the water, sweetheart,” he says quietly, his voice barely cutting through the noise.

He braces himself for your resistance. Instead, you huff, give him a pointed glare, and drink it. He watches as you sip, your nose scrunching at the lack of a bite. Spencer lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

The night winds on, the team louder than usual, swept up in Derek’s overly dramatic retelling of the prank war that once took over the bullpen. But you’re quieter, Spencer notices, the drinks maybe finally settling in a little too fast. Your smile slower, your laughter softer, head resting on his shoulder now and again. 

And then, suddenly, you’re not looking so well. It hits you all at once. The queasy welling in your stomach, the cold sweat prickling your skin. You’re out of the booth in a flash, Spencer right behind you as you stumble toward the door, your hand clamped over your mouth. 

You’ve barely made it to the sidewalk when the drinks betray you—straight onto Spencer’s shoes. The world blurs, and all you can think, mortified, is that you’ve just broken one of the cardinal rules of dating.

Of all people it had to be Spencer—germ-conscious, always-prepared Spencer—your lovely boyfriend who at this moment you’re not sure you can ever look in the eyes again Spencer. 

You don’t have to look up to see the team’s reaction as they round the corner, wide-eyed as they process what just happened. Derek’s mouth falls open in disbelief, Emily stares in shock, and Garcia whispers a dramatic, “Oh, no…”

They’re frozen. Because Spencer—Spencer, who uses hand sanitizer like it’s an extension of his arm, Spencer who’s the first to scrunch his nose at anything remotely messy—has just had his shoes christened in the worst way. You know they’re waiting for Spencer’s reaction, the tense recoil, the carefully contained grimace.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, Spencer pauses, takes a measured breath, and steps closer to you, his hands steady on your shoulders. “Hey,” he asks, voice low and soothing as he crouches to meet your gaze. “Sweetheart, you okay?” He brushes your hair away from your face, his touch careful and kind.

“Spence—” you mumble, your voice cracking with embarrassment. Your hands fly to cover your face. “I’m so sorry. Your shoes—oh my God, your shoes—”

Spencer shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping as he crouches to steady you. His voice is impossibly gentle, calm in a way that eases the edges of your shame. “It’s fine. They’re just shoes,” he says softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “Let’s get you home, okay?” 

You nod, eyes shut, clearly mortified but he doesn’t let you dwell on it. He takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. For a brief moment, Spencer contemplates asking the bartender for a glass of water to rinse off the mess, but he glances at you—your slightly swaying frame, the way your head droops just a little—and decides against it.

Getting you home safely takes precedence over everything else. Shoes can wait. You can’t.

Emily’s mouth falls open slightly as she watches, “Did Reid just…?” she murmurs, half to herself, as Derek gapes beside her. “Didn’t think the kid had it in him,” Derek says, shaking his head, a grin slowly spreading. Garcia sniffs, dramatically dabbing at her eyes. “I knew he loved her, but this? This is another level.” she says letting out a dreamy sigh. 

They linger, watching as Spencer guides you steadily toward the car with careful patience. He helps you in, crouching to fasten your seatbelt. You’re still mumbling apologies, your voice thick with embarrassment, but Spencer doesn’t falter. Instead, he shrugs off his jacket, draping it over your shoulders even as the mess on his shoes remains. There’s not even a hint of disgust on his face—if anything, he’s focused, caring, murmuring words of reassurance as he tucks his jacket around you. His hand lingers on yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a silent promise that nothing about this has shaken him. 

“I’m so sorry, Spence,” you whisper again, your voice small and heavy with guilt. “I ruined your shoes. And your jacket. And—”

“It’s fine. You’re fine. Besides, I was planning to throw them out anyway.”

You shake your head weakly, your tone petulant even through your embarrassment. “Nooo, don’t throw them out because of me.”

His lips twitch, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Well, what do you suggest I do with them, angel?”

“I’ll wash them,” you declare, your words slow and sleepy.

Spencer raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “You’ll wash them?”

“Mhmm,” you murmur, already halfway to drifting off against the seat.

“How about we get you home first and then worry about the shoes, okay?” he says gently.

“’Kay,” you whisper, your voice barely audible as sleep begins to take hold.

Spencer stands, glancing back at the bar where the team is gathered. They’re not even pretending to hide their stares anymore, and he knows he’s going to hear about this for weeks. He raises a hand in a small, sheepish wave before climbing into the driver’s seat.

Derek shakes his head, laughing softly. “He’s gone,” he says, his voice carrying just enough awe to balance the humor. “Kid’s completely gone.”

Emily doesn’t need to ask what he means. Neither does Garcia. Because they’ve seen Spencer look at a thousand things with fascination—books, theories, puzzles, statistics. But this?

This is something else entirely.

The ride home is quiet, save for the occasional slurred apology from you. Spencer reassures you with the same soft patience each time, his hand steady on the wheel and his gaze flickering to you every so often, checking to make sure you’re okay. By the time he gets you home, your protests have faded, replaced by the heavy pull of exhaustion.

His arm remains firm around your waist, steadying you as he helps you inside, careful and methodical in the way he moves. He guides you to the bathroom, where you try to freshen up, fumbling with the faucet and splashing water on your face. Spencer steps in without hesitation and takes over when your movements falter. His touch is featherlight, but there’s no mistaking the care in every movement. The closeness makes your cheeks flush, though whether it’s from lingering embarrassment or something else entirely, you’re too tired to decipher.

“You don’t have to,” you murmur, your words sluggish but sincere.

“Of course I do,” he replies, his voice light but firm. “I want to.” 

He guides you to the bedroom with careful steps, his hand steady on the small of your back. Once there, he sets a glass of water on the nightstand, the gentle clink breaking the quiet.

“Drink,” he coaxes softly, his tone patient but firm.

You take the glass without protest, sipping obediently. Spencer watches, a small smile tugging at his lips. He considers making a playful comment about how quickly you’re drinking it now—so much easier than earlier—but he decides against it.

You’ve been through enough tonight, he thinks.

When he finally tucks you into bed, you’re too tired to resist. You mumble something incoherent, your hand brushing his as he leans in. Spencer pauses, his gaze lingering on your face—peaceful now, the traces of the evening’s mishaps melting away. He presses a light kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Spencer steps out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear you if you call out. He lingers in the hallway for a moment, his shoulders sagging slightly now that the night’s adrenaline has begun to wane. He glances down at his shoes—still damp and stained. With a resigned sigh, he makes his way to the kitchen, grabbing a plastic bag. He slips the shoes inside, tying the bag tightly before heading outside. The cold air bites at his skin as he steps toward the dumpster behind his building.

He stands there for a moment, holding the bag. The sight of the shoes, oddly enough, makes him smile. It’s ridiculous, he knows. They’re just shoes. Ruined, stained, completely unsalvageable. But they’re also a reminder of tonight—a reminder of how he’d taken care of you, how you’d let him take care of you. 

With a soft thud, the bag lands in the dumpster. Spencer dusts off his hands, turning back toward the building. When Spencer steps back into his apartment, the soft hum of the heater greets him, a gentle reminder of the warmth waiting inside. And there you are, standing in his shirt in the doorway of his bedroom. Spencer thinks it's a sight he'll never get tired of.

There's a pout tugging at your lips. “Where’d you go?” you ask, your voice thick with sleep and just a hint of a whine.

“Had to throw out the shoes angel,” he says as he steps into the kitchen to wash his hands.

Your gasp is exaggerated like he’s just committed an unspeakable betrayal. “I thought I told you I’d wash them!” you exclaim, your voice rising. 

“And I thought I tucked you into bed,” Spencer counters, his laugh soft and full of affection. “Why are you out of bed sweetheart?”

You shuffle closer, blinking up at him with drowsy eyes. “Missed you,” you say simply, your earlier outrage regarding the shoes already forgotten. “Wanna cuddle.”

Spencer’s expression softens, but he gestures to his clothes. “I’m dirty,” he reminds you gently, “Outside clothes, remember?”

“Change then,” you reply stubbornly, tugging at his sleeve as though that’s the simplest solution in the world.

“I need to shower first,” he says, his voice patient as he begins to guide you back toward the bedroom.

“I didn’t shower either,” you argue, leaning heavily into his side as though that somehow strengthens your case.

“Because you’re drunk,” he replies with a small smile.

“Am not,” you insist, though your tone is far from convincing.

“Wanna tell that to my shoes?” Spencer teases, raising a brow.

You ignore him, brushing past his comment with a huff. “You’ll take too long,” you complain, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you too,” he replies, his voice tinged with amusement as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then cuddle,” you plead, your tone slipping into that sing-song quality you know he can’t resist. “Pleaseee”

Spencer hesitates, the logical part of him warring with the sight of you—soft, vulnerable, and looking at him like he hung the stars. He knows you’re usually the enforcer of the outside-clothes rule, a stickler for order when sober. But right now, you’re anything but sober, and he can’t find it in himself to deny you.

“Pleaseee,” you say again, drawing out the word for emphasis, “I’ll buy you new shoes,” your eyes wide and imploring.

He knows you probably will.

“Enough about the shoes,” Spencer rolls his eyes fighting back a smirk, “Just help me change the sheets tomorrow,” he relents, his voice warm with affection.

He knows you probably won’t. But he lets you drag him toward the bed anyways.

You beam, looping your arms around his waist in triumph. “Knew you wouldn’t say no,” you mumble into his chest.

Spencer laughs softly as you settle against him, burying your face in his chest with a soft, muffled sigh. He feels his heart swell in a way he can’t quite put into words. He’s never been one for mess—for dirt, grime, or anything out of place. Heck, he hadn't even wanted to shake your hand the first time he met you. It’s in his nature to keep things neat, orderly, clean. But now, with you?

His shoes could be ruined, his clothes crumpled, and the night an absolute whirlwind. And still, all he can think about is how peaceful you look now, your eyelids fluttering shut as sleep starts to claim you.

Spencer presses a kiss to the top of your head, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles along your back.

For you and only you, he thinks, he’d make an exception every time.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the alpha and his little lamb Part 1

Part 2

Ateez Yunho X female reader

Genres and warnings: werewolf Yunho x human reader, strangers to lovers, soulmates, fluff, angst, mature language, mild smut

Word count: 5.4k

Your life was as boring as it could get, before you took a tumble in the woods and came face to face with a large creature. Who would have known the man behind the beast would be a big softie, and your soulmate?

(Part 1 of a two part series)

"You're too stressed Yunho, you've got to calm down."

That was a sentence Yunho has heard about a million times before. How could he keep calm? He was about to become the official alpha of his pack, but his mate was nowhere in sight. He thought he'd have her by now, and they would be happily in love.

The universe had other plans, it seemed.

"Mingi, I love you, but please go home. I can't deal with all of this paperwork, and listen to you."

Mingi was his trusted beta, and he adored the man, but right now he wanted him gone. They've been friends since they were babies, born in the same pack. The friendship turned into brotherhood, and when they announced he was the new alpha, he immediately knew who would be his second in command. Unusually it was the other way around, and Yunho had to keep Mingi in check. This time, with the ceremony approaching, he was a bomb of nerves waiting to explode.

"Look, I'll go if it makes you feel better, but there is no point in sitting here, mopping around."

Yunho knew Mingi was right, but he just couldn't help the way he was feeling. He took great pride in being a werewolf, an alpha at that, but he needed his mate by his side. The ceremony was three weeks away, and the elders were starting to worry as well.

"I'm sorry Mingi, I'm usually more collected than this. Go home, I'll follow soon."

It seemed like his beta wanted to say more, but he decided against it. Yunho already had a lot on his plate, it would be best if he left him for a bit. The men exchanged goodbyes, and silence filled the room after the door closed.

Yunho took a deep breath, his wolf going haywire inside his head. He loved the damn thing, but sometimes he could get overbearing. There was an incredible ache in his chest, one that could only be soothed by his other half. Maybe he should go out on a run tonight, let out some steam.

He just hoped she would come soon, because he couldn't bear being alone for the rest of his life.

.

.

Y/N wanted to be left alone for the rest of her godforsaken life. Men were shit, that much was obvious, but she was starting to lose hope at this point. After another disastrous date last night, she could barely get herself together.

Chan was nice, at first. Then he ate her portion of fries and dipped his finger in her custard. As if that wasn't enough, he licked her cheek as they said goodbye. Men really were dogs.

She deleted all of her dating apps, vowing to be celibate for the rest of her life. It was much easier that way.

There was no chance she could sleep peacefully tonight, so she decided to go running in the nearby forest.

Yes, that might sound unsafe, but there was a well known trail mapped out, and she's been in the city for a month now. Her new job in the marketing office was nice, her colleagues were polite, but she didn't make any friends yet. Perhaps that's why she's been on so many dates lately.

Deciding to leave those thoughts for a later time, she stood up from her bed and went to her closet to put on her running clothes. It was hot outside, so she opted for a pair of shorts and a simple T-shirt. After lacing up her shoes, she made her way out of her building and towards the woods.

It was slowly starting to become dark outside, and she knew she couldn't spend as much time as she'd like. She was alone, after all, and that wasn't a risk she was willing to take. Soon enough, she was greeted by the soft forest ground. Her steps turned into a jog, and before long, she was huffing and letting her frustration out.

What she failed to notice was a tree root sticking out of the ground, and suddenly she was tumbling down onto the dirt path.

She fell with a yelp, wincing loudly as she tried to get herself together. It was her fault, being so careless on this terrain. Now she would have to hobble back home, and that would take a long time. Her knee was bleeding, the skin around the cut red and irritated.

"Great! Is this all? Does the universe have something else in store for me?!" She yelled in no particular direction, frustrated with herself and her life.

A loud growl made her freeze.

"Um... I was just joking... Come on, I can't get eaten here!" Her yelling turned into a whisper.

Her eyes scanned the area, looking for the source of the noise. It was impossible to tell where it came from, but she was certain she heard it.

While she was trying to decipher whether this was a life or death situation, an excited wolf was looking at her from the shadows.

Yunho couldn't believe it. There she was, in all her glory. His mate. His one and only.

His true love, sitting down on the floor, hurt.

The feeling in Yunho's chest became tighter. How could she be hurt? She wasn't supposed to be in harm's way, not with him by her side. He'd make sure that this kind of thing never happened again.

The beautiful woman was still looking around, probably scared by his growl. He couldn't help it, he was too excited to see her. Maybe he should come a bit closer?

Would he scare her? Probably.

Did he care after finally finding her? Not really.

Slowly, he approached her crouched form. Her scent was more intense the closer he got, and it made his whole body warm up. He picked up hints of vanilla and cherry, so sweet he could almost taste it in his mouth.

The rustle of the leaves in front of her made Y/N freeze. She could now clearly see the figure emerging from the shadows. It looked like a wolf, he was too large for that kind of animal. Wolves weren't supposed to be this huge. His fur was midnight black, and it was tough to focus on him so late at night.

What caught her attention the most were his eyes. They were red, the colour popping out in the darkness.

This was it. Her final moments in life would be spent as wolf kibble. Did something like that even exist? There was no time to brainstorm, because the monstrous animal stepped closer. Her arms went up to protect herself, as if they'd do much.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my... Please make it quick."

She waited, but nothing was happening. The only sound she heard were her own whimpers, along with something loud thumping on the ground. Moving her hands from her head, she saw the strange wolf sitting down in front of her. His head was on his paws, demeanor calm. What the hell?

For a moment she swore he looked into her eyes, as if to show her he wasn't going to do any harm. It would be foolish to think so, but her fear overpowered her common sense.

The strange animal slowly inched closer to her. She tried to get away, but the pain in her leg stopped her.

"Ouch! Motherfuc-" Y/N cut herself off, remembering she wasn't alone.

The wolf... Whimpered? It sounded like he was the wounded one, not her. His head was now at her feet, but he didn't stop crawling closer.

"Hey there Mr. Big Guy." She said nervously.

In a flash, the giant animal's head was on her lap, gazing up at her eyes.

This was not happening. There was no way in hell she was sitting on a dirt path in the middle of the woods with a giant wolf thing in her lap.

Said thing reminded her that it indeed was by whimpering again.

Y/N didn't know what to do next. Does she throw him off and try to run? Does she... Pet him? Did he want that?

She cleared her throat. "Listen up Big Guy, I'm about to do something really stupid, but you seem like you want me to. Here goes nothing."

Her hands slowly went to the creature's head, patting lightly to see his reaction. He didn't move, nor did he take his eyes off of her. The only thing she noticed was his tail. It was moving around like a dog's. That was a good sign, right?

She got bolder with her moves, so she scratched behind his ears. His tail was now moving faster, his posture relaxed and happy, she thought.

"You like that, don't you?"

A grumble left his chest, his body now fully stretched out on the floor, head relaxed in her lap. She continued scratching and petting him in silence, in utter disbelief of the situation.

"It's fine, everything's fine. I'm just here, in the woods, petting a wolf. No big deal? Yeah? Yeah."

Yunho thought she was odd, talking to herself like that. That might have been his fault, but he only had pure intentions. The mate bond probably made her trust him a bit more, so she relaxed quickly. It was weird, though. He couldn't sense her inner wolf at all. Was it dormant? Maybe she was afraid?

That usually wasn't the case with mates. Their wolves would thrive in a situation like this. He took a quick sniff again, and it came to him.

She was human.

His mate was a human with no trace of the werewolf gene.

What will the elders say? How can he be the pack alpha without a strong werewolf female by his side? His cubs? What about his future cubs?

A hundred thoughts were running around in his head, but they soon vanished when he heard her giggle.

"You're quite the softie, aren't you?"

Yunho felt proud. He managed to make her laugh in the short amount of time he was present, and he was in his wolf form. It just solidified the fact that he, actually, didn't care about her non supernatural status.

She was his, and she was perfect.

He wished he could speak to her properly, introduce himself and proclaim his undying love for her. It may seem sudden to the average person, but werewolves mate for life. Their bond is so strong, they feel each other's emotions from miles away. It was a bit difficult to do that with her, just because she couldn't communicate with him properly.

The option of changing back in front of her was off the table for now, but he could enjoy the moment for a little while longer.

Her pets didn't stop, and she slowly started talking again.

"I'm sorry I freaked out. I see there was no reason to. Well, you're still much bigger than me, and you eat meat. I know this doesn't make sense to you, but to me it kind of does."

She glanced around herself, realising how late it had gotten.

"Mr. Wolf, I... I have to go home now. It's late, and I'm all alone. I don't know how I'm going to hobble my way out of here, but I better do it soon. We can meet again, okay?"

Wait, was she leaving him?

How can this be? He just got her!

Yunho didn't realise how worked up he got, and the growl he let out wasn't on purpose. She, however, didn't cower away this time.

"Hey! Do you want me to bleed out? I need to go, but I promise I'll come back to meet you. I'll even bring you a treat!"

Okay, that did make him feel better. He could let her go now, but she'll be back. Maybe next time he could come out in his human form? Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.

Reluctantly, Yunho stood up from his position in her lap. She tried pushing herself off the ground, but her leg was still weak. He kneeled before her, hoping she would get the message and hold onto him.

Thankfully, she did, grabbing into his fur carefully and pulling herself up. She hobbled a bit, but managed to stay on her feet. Once she was stable, she let him go. Now that they were both on their feet, she noticed he came up to her waist in height.

"Hmm... What are you? You're no ordinary wolf, for sure. You must be special, there's no other way to explain it."

Yes, Yunho thought, there was. He was a werewolf for crying out loud. You patted him on the head again before making your way towards the direction you came from. He was one step behind you, making sure your balance wasn't off.

"You know I can't bring you home with me? You should stop following me."

She could bring him home, but where would she put him? He wasn't exactly apartment friendly. There was no answer, not like she expected it to be, so she answered instead.

"Maybe I can sneak you in somehow? No, that would be ridiculous. Please, stop following me, I don't have the strongest willpower, and I'll end up taking you home."

Yunho felt happy. His mate didn't want to be separated from him. The bond did its job, but he could also tell her real feelings. As much as Yunho wanted to never be apart from her again, he had to stay back. People in town were familiar with the legend of a werewolf pack residing here, but he hadn't seen her before. She also had a different scent than the regulars, so she must be from somewhere else.

Just as they approached the edge of the forest, Yunho sat down on his hind legs and watched her hobble the rest of the way out. She turned around, looking at him with a smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Wolf. I'll see you again soon."

With a wave, his mate was gone.

The ache in his chest got worse as she went further away, but he knew this wasn't the time to chase after her. She promised she'd be back, and he could search for her in town. Maybe she'd appreciate his human form a bit more.

He took a final sniff of the air, savouring her scent before running back through the forest towards his home.

.

.

Y/N was always questioning her mental state, but she now determined she was out of it. Did she really talk to a wolf?

She couldn't really talk to anyone about her encounter, because she had no friends, and nobody would believe her. What intrigued her the most was the certain aura around the animal. It felt powerful, like it meant something big. It surprised her how well they communicated. It was like he could sense her mood, and he acted according to that.

Reaching her apartment after a long walk back, she made her way to her bathroom to wash off the grime and dirt. As she shampooed her hair and skin, she felt little tingles going over her body.

It almost felt like another pair of hands were on her. A big, strong and secure pair. Maybe she was too touch deprived, so her brain conjured it up. She didn't want to get too into it, so she quickly washed herself off and changed into her pyjamas.

As she lay there in her bed, the moonlight shined through her window and lit up her room. The moon was bright tonight, and she fell asleep gazing at it out her window.

Somewhere, deep into the forest, an alpha was sitting outside his mansion, thanking the Moon Goddess for finally bringing him his happiness. He only hoped his little mate would feel the same way about him.

Yunho had a plan. First of all, he had to find out who she was. He hadn't seen her before in town, which meant she was probably new. Maybe he could take a stroll around the center tomorrow and try to look for her?

He remembered her words from earlier. She said she'd be back in the forest to bring him treats. He hoped she truly meant it. Yunho would just have to wait and see.

"Hey Yun. What are you smiling for?"

The alpha turned around and saw Mingi leaning on the front door.

"Nothing much. I found her, Mingi."

His beta's eyes widened. He was beside Yunho in a flash, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him.

"What? Are you serious? How did it happen?"

Yunho smiled, pushing Mingi's hands off of him.

"Calm down boy. It was... I don't know, it was so random. I went out for a run and just bumped into her. I was in my wolf form though, so it was kind of awkward at first."

"You didn't scare her off?" Mingi asked.

"Not really. She warmed up to me quickly. I just have to find her tomorrow, and meet her properly."

"Do you know who she is?"

Yunho sighed, glancing at the moon again.

"I have no clue. I'll have to go and look for her in town. I thought it would be easier."

The men sat next to each other on the steps, silence enveloping them. Mingi was happy Yunho finally got to meet his other half, but there seemed to be something else bothering him. He cleared his throat, placing a comforting hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Yunho nodded, realising he didn't have to keep quiet about his mate's status, at least not to Mingi.

"She's... She's human, Mingi. My mate is a human, there is no trace of the gene in her. I would have felt it."

Mingi fell silent. He knew Yunho would have a field trip with the elders later. Sometimes, he hated the way Yunho's life had so many obstacles. Being an alpha wasn't easy, and now finding his mate was even tougher. He felt for his friend, his true brother, but he couldn't do anything to help.

"Do you feel the bond?" Mingi almost whispered.

"In every vessel of my body." Yunho confirmed.

"Then nothing else matters. As long as you know she is your mate, nobody can do or say anything about it. It's your choice, your destiny. The Moon Goddess wouldn't make a mistake, even if it's unexplainable or unfair."

Yunho's eyes softened. He knew what Mingi was talking about. His beta met his soulmate a long time ago, but she didn't want to live a pack life. Three years have passed since she left town, not even glancing back at Mingi. It tore him apart, but he learned to live through it all. Nobody knew about the nights he spent crying into his pillow, except for Yunho. He's gotten much better with the help of the rest of the boys in his pack. Hongjoong always dragged him around to music stores, Wooyoung taught him how to cook, and Jongho sparred with him almost every day. The boys were a nice distraction, and they had a positive influence on Mingi. He was thankful his friend was back on his feet, living the life he deserved.

"Thank you, Mingi. Somehow, you always know what to say." Yunho reached over and pulled him into a hug. He wasn't always affectionate, but it came naturally with his beta.

"No problem. Now, go inside and sleep. We'll think of a plan tomorrow."

.

.

Y/N was feeling antsy. The pain in her knee was bearable now, but the memory of last night wasn't.

She almost felt... Sad. There was no way she was sad about not spending more time with a literal wolf, but her feelings were confusing. Her workplace was suffocating, and she couldn't wait for the day to end.

All she wanted was her bed, a glass of wine, and a good movie. Maybe she could take a stroll through the woods again?

Now, that would be ridiculous. What would she do, hobble around trying to look for a wild animal?

She did promise him a treat, and she wasn't someone who went back on her promises.

Determined, and probably a little crazy, she went to the local butchers to buy a pound of beef. That would probably be enough for the furry creature. As she drove to her destination, it dawned on her how bizarre this whole thing was. For some odd reason, she didn't care much.

Parking near the entrance from last night, she exited her vehicle and made her way into the trees, bag of meat in hand. She thanked the lord she decided to wear her converse, otherwise walking would be a disaster.

"Mr. Wolf? I came back for you! Are you around here?"

A couple miles away, Yunho's whole body began to tingle. He could feel her on his territory. Did she come back for him? His protective instinct took over immediately. Was she crazy? It was starting to get dark out, and she was probably still injured.

He stood up abruptly, and the boys around the dinner table went silent. Mingi could sense there was something wrong.

"Yun, are you okay?" He asked.

The alpha barely glanced at his pack before pushing away from the table and storming out the door.

"Gotta go, be back later, don't eat all of the pie!" He shouted before shifting mid air and sprinting towards the direction his mate would be.

She seemed like a girl who'd keep him on his toes, and he kind of liked that. His legs kept pushing him to go faster, and before long, he could smell her scent in the air. The blood in his veins began warming up, and as soon as he noticed her figure, he almost howled in glee.

Y/N turned around, hearing the rustling of the leaves behind her. She wasn't even scared, not questioning whether it could be another animal. She knew it was him.

What she wasn't prepared for was his large body jumping onto hers. They tumbled to the ground, and the wolf began licking around her face. She barely managed to shield herself from his slobbers.

"Okay, okay! I'm excited too, but please get off!"

He immediately listened to her command, stepping off her body and sitting down in front of her.

"Hey there buddy. Look! I brought you beef!"

She picked up the bag from the floor, opening it up and pushing it towards him. Yunho sniffed around, excited to eat again. His mate was a true sweetheart. The beef she brought wasn't cheap, and she was about to spoil what she thought was an animal. She truly had a heart of gold.

Yunho quickly inhaled the meat, licking his face afterwards before jumping onto her again. This time he didn't lick her, but he just laid his whole body over her. The woman chuckled, taking her hand to pet around his ears.

Yunho was ecstatic. His mate was enjoying his presence, and he was taking in hers as much as he could. The euphoria clouded his mind a bit, and he thought about shifting back to his human form.

Would she be scared?

Maybe she'd run away and never speak to him again. He just got her, he couldn't lose her. He knew the logical option would be to just enjoy another moment and try to look for her tomorrow.

However, his instinct took over in a second, and he pushed his large body off of her. She looked confused.

"What's wrong buddy? I thought you liked being pet? Did I do something wrong?"

Yunho's chest hurt. He didn't want her to think anything she could do was wrong. She was an angel, spending time with a monster like him, and he was probably about to make it worse.

Yunho sat on his hind legs, keeping his eyes on his mate. She was still on the floor, sitting cross legged, returning his stare.

The ground started to rumble a bit as the transformation began. His bones cracked, emitting a horrible sound, and he could tell she was getting scared. In a matter of moments, his human form was in front of Y/N, butt naked and smiling.

"Hi. I'm Yunho."

His sentence was met with silence, his mate's eyes wide and terrified. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

"Sorry we had to meet like this. Thank you for the meat, how did you know I loved beef? It was delicious."

Y/N didn't know what to do. Was she high? No, she never took drugs in her life. Did she have a concussion? Also no, she hurt her knee.

What the hell was this then? There was a naked, very handsome man, sitting across from her. How did he get there? What happened to the wolf?

She must be hallucinating. There was no other explanation.

"Hello? Are you with me? You still haven't told me your name?"

The man was persistent. After he asked for her name, she kind of came back to the present. She quickly stood up, trying to steady her footing. Curse her stupid knee.

"Whoa, careful! That thing must hurt! You should be resting right now, you took a good tumble yesterday."

Why was he speaking like he was there? He wasn't, the wolf... Oh God.

"You... You're a..." It was the only thing she managed to say before turning around and trying to sprint back to her car.

"Hey! Wait up!"

Yunho took off after her, catching her easily. He grabbed her by the arms, turning her around. She screamed, but he quickly covered her mouth.

"What is with you today? Stop screaming, people might think something bad is happening." He took his hand off and Y/N trashed around in his embrace.

"Get off of me you... You freak! You're a naked freak! Let go!"

Her words hurt, but Yunho knew she must be frightened.

"I'm not a freak, I'm your mate!"

She froze, looking into his eyes. She did have to admit, he was the most beautiful man she's ever seen. His hair was ruffled, chest broad, shoulders wide. She glanced down, heat creeping up her cheeks. There was something else big about him, but she was too embarrassed to look again.

Yunho noticed her blush while checking him out, and he felt proud. He could sense the change of emotions in her, and he knew she was loosening up. The bond helped in this situation.

"Like what you see little lamb? This is all yours to look at. You can touch me if you want to."

Yunho let go of her hands, putting some space between them to help her relax. He could see she was thinking about it, but she was still apprehensive.

Slowly, one of her hands lifted up, lightly caressing a deep scar on his peck. Her touch was soft, and Yunho couldn't help feeling excited.

"You... I'm so confused." She whispered.

"It's okay. This is a bit much to take in. We can take things slow. What about your name first, him?"

She looked into his eyes, going over her options.

For some reason, she didn't feel threatened by him. If he was (and she knows this sounds crazy) the wolf from earlier, he wouldn't do her any harm. Making up her mind, she took a deep breath.

"Y/N. My name is Y/N. Yunho, was it?" She somehow managed to get out.

The man in front of her was ecstatic.

"Yes, yes. Yunho. I'm your mate. Pleasure to meet you."

Y/N looked even more confused.

"Why do you keep saying that word? What does that mean? Are we... Buddies? I don't get it." She shook her head, pointing a finger at him.

"And what the hell are you?"

Yunho chuckled. She was a spicy one for sure.

"I am a werewolf. A shape shifter. And no, we are not buddies. We're mates, as in soulmates. You're my other half, Y/N." Yunho was about to take her hands in his when she abruptly stepped back.

"Woah, take it easy Mister. Werewolves? Soulmates?" She sat down on a tree stump, head in hands.

"I need a moment."

Yunho knelt down in front of her, and she realized he was still bare. Without a word, she took off her jacket and handed it to him. He looked confused.

"Please, cover yourself up. I can't think with you naked in front of me."

"But... This is all yours, little lamb. My body is yours to enjoy."

He sounded so innocent, it made Y/N almost swoon.

"I'll... I'll look some other time. Cover up, please."

The man took the jacket and wrapped it around his waist, sitting down afterwards. Y/N cleared her throat and looked at him, more comfortable now that everything wasn't visible.

"So... Werewolf. How does that work?"

Yunho smiled. "Well, I am the alpha of my pack. It's a big pack, our territory spreads out far from this town. I can shift whenever I want, and I enjoy spending time in my wolf form. My pack mates live in a big house near mine, we have a mansion for ourselves, don't worry."

He said it so casually, she almost missed it.

"Woah, woah. Who's 'we'? I don't know you, and frankly, I still don't believe what's happening."

"I get it, but it's just how it goes. Now that we've met, it will only progress naturally. You don't have to be afraid, I already have deep feelings towards you. You are my one and only, as I am yours. Don't you feel it?"

Yunho placed his hand on her knee, and she did feel it. There was a certain warmth coming from his touch, and she's never felt like this before.

"See? You're confused, and that's okay. I just don't want you to be afraid of me."

Her gaze now softened on the big man in front of her. He was worried about scaring her off. Honestly, she was accepting this more quickly than she thought she was supposed to. Y/N needed to go home, otherwise she might do something stupid, like following him to his house.

"I have to go." She stood up, not bothering to look at Yunho again, and made her way towards her car.

"Wait! Y/N! Don't go!" He ran after her, catching her easily. His grip wasn't tight, he just didn't want her to run off, again.

"Please, don't leave me now. I just got you!" He pleaded.

Y/N felt sad all of the sudden. She wanted to reassure him that everything would be fine.

"Yunho... I have to go home and think about all of this. Don't you think I deserve that? I don't know you, and all of the things you said are a bit much for me. You need to let me go." That made his grip on her tighten.

"No! Please! You'll leave me and never come back! Please, we can get to know each other. I-I... Let's go on a date!"

Her eyes widened. The man was frightened about the possibility of rejection, and her heart clenched.

"A date? Okay... Let's go on a date. I'll go home now, but I'll be back tomorrow. We can talk some more. I'm surprised at how calm I am about this."

Yunho smiled. "That's because the bond is making you feel safe. It's doing its job. I'll be here tomorrow, and I'll wear proper clothes, I promise. I can't wait to see you again, my little lamb."

He wanted to hug her, or place a kiss on her cheek, but he didn't want to overwhelm her. So, he opted on patting her head. The beautiful woman smiled up at him.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the one who pets you."

Yunho chuckled, bending down to be eye level with her.

"You can pet me anytime you want."

Y/N blushed, and detangled herself from him and turning around to walk away.

"Okay now, I'm off. See you tomorrow wolf boy!"

All she heard was his laugh, and it brought a smile to her face.

Her life was about to become a lot stranger than she expected, but she wasn't complaining. If a man like that wanted her, who was she to question it?

.

.

[oneshotnewbie]

Carina is afraid of Reader getting hurt (she is a police officer) and maybe, just maybe, they get hurt? You don't have to if you don't want to!!

Authors note: This story has been sitting in my finished documents for about two years haha. So maybe it's not all that well written

ᕚ---ᕘ

Working undercover was exhausting, if not draining. You were aware of it both physically and mentally, yet you accepted the job. Accepted it in hope that, like every order, it would pass quickly. You had been investigating undercover in a drug gang for several weeks now. Barely exchanged a word with your wife for endless days to protect her from the cunning mastermind of the gang. Sporadically, there was a short on-minute-conversation at a phone booth here and there, but it was not enough. On both sides.

Carina was worried sick; she only got fleeting answers from your lieutenant on how you were doing. She was so concerned for your life that the brunette even fell ill and had to be hospitalized. When you found out, you wanted to break your cover and risk your life just so you could see her. But she managed to stop you, promising she would take care of herself until you were back home.

You missed everything about the cozy apartment you shared with her. The scent, your bed. Even the smell of cheese that had spread throughout the kitchen. But mostly the closeness of your girlfriend and the warmth that reached you every time you had a hard day at work. All of that you had to exchange for a cold, sparsely furnished one-room apartment outside of the city.

With each passing day it became harder to maintain the disguise. Everything got on your last nerves and ripped you apart. On the very first day, you wished that you could leave work and go back to your family but it had taken you a long time to earn the trust of the drug lord, Joaquín González, before he gave you permission to do big jobs. You were basically his second hand and knew everything about his business.

Even so, you still had to wait to snag all of his followers. At least until this evening where the cruical deal would go through. If everything went smoothly, you could go back to your old life tomorrow. Back to your family. The day passed faster than you could have imagined and it slowly started to get dark. The pink tone of the setting sun gave you a feeling of security and freedom- a feeling you had not had in a long time and made you believe that everything would turn out the way you wished for.

Slowly, you sat down on the chair you had prepared and waited out the last hours before your assignment while you looked through the small window. The landscape was swallowed up in a deep darkness, so completely dark that you felt the cold and hatefulness filling up your heart. Without the feeling, you could not think straight in the violent drug clan. This feeling had changed you, you felt it deep inside. That freezing cold surrounded you and gave you the courage to do any assignment without hesitation so you would not experience pain. But you still hoped to shed that mask once you were safe in the arms of your beloved Italian.

The mask had so often saved you from a mental collapse on missions, that you might not want to take it off as protection for further police operations and it shocked you deeply, that you even believed in wanting to keep it. After each undercover assignment, Carina was always able to give you the feeling of security, and the conscience that everything would be fine again. But you were not sure if she could still save you from what ate away your soul this time.

Of course you knew that she would do everything in her power to get your old self back- Carina had managed it all the time. The brunette would take care of you, spoil you like your life was more important than hers. This time was different. You had been separated from your old life for far too long to make up for with a few days of utmost nurturing.

A small tear, which you quickly wiped away, rolled down your face. You were not allowed to cry, you had to blame yourself for your fate and now you had to face the consequences.

ᕚ---ᕘ

"Where is she? Where is Y/n?" yelled a rough and worried voice at a nurse of the emergency room and you could immediately assign it to Carina. Frantically, she made her way to search between the occupied beds for the woman for whom she was the emergency contacts. „Deluca, calm down. She is here, I will lead you to her"

To her ears, the spoken sentence of Owen Hunt sounded like a war. Knowing the seriousness of the situation, she felt nothing but pure fear. Worries enveloped the woman and she could not imagine finding you badly injured somewhere in the emergency room and realizing that you were hovering between life and death.

The brunette swallowed hard. She missed you so much and just wanted to back healthily. Quietly, she trotted behind the head of trauma surgery, very carefully and slowly, until she came to a stop in front of a curtained bed. There, she already heard your pain-distorted grumbling while stilling in her movement.

Carina had never forgotten how your voice sounded, longed for it every single minute of the day. And now, hearing it without the hum of the phones terminating line, her heart was racing like the first time she had met you. She was only centimeters away from you, as close as she had not been for a long time. "It hurts like hell!"

"I wanted to give you a pain hemmer but you refused," she heard the soft chuckle of Miranda Bailey and a stone rolled from her heavy heart. You were not badly injured, at least not bad enough to be concerned for your life. "Now live with it"

As the brunette doctor moved the curtain with a firm grip to gain access to you, she looked down at you with glassy eyes. Your clothes and face were spattered with dirt and blood, your jeans cut down on one leg to the thigh. Her eyes widened to the bulled hole in your femur, blood still dripping slightly through the stitches already in place.

"Bella, what happened? Stai bene?" (Are you alright?) her voice trembled and was overwhelmed by choked tears. She sneaked through the narrow space between bed and curtain and knelt down next to it. Her warm hand softly cupped your cold one, that was gripping the bed sheets, and squeezed it tightly.

"The deal was overrun by my colleagues. The shooting was in full swing and some were trying to escape. I wanted to help another police officer and I caught a ricochet myself. It is half as bad, it was a straight through shot"

Disorted in pain, your body tensed up briefly before relaxing shortly after; abruptly pinching the hand of your wife before your eyes turned back to her. Deeply, her fawn eyes stared at you, some pitiful tears welling up from them before they closed. "For a brief moment I thought I lost you, mi amor"

Thinking lines appeared on her face and you swallowed impercepitibly. You knew her mind was working through every negative scenario she had ever saw in movies. A faint smile appeared on your face and you broke away from her before you put your hand under her chin and tenderly pulled her to you. "Carina, look at me"

The addressed opened her eyes slightly, pure was immediately recognizable. A tear rolled down the Italian´s face and she grabbed your midsection to cross the last empty space between you. "You did not lost me. I am still here"

Gentle kisses spread across her ruddy cheeks, forehead and nose; trying to catch her bitter tears. You hated when she cried. But you hated yourself even more for causing those sadness upon her. Such a great woman like Carina did not deserve to be in a constant state of fear and you were more than sorry. It broke your heart and shattered it into pieces. 

"You won't do me another mission like this. Mai più, capito?" (Never again, understand?) she said insistently. Her arms broke free from you and crossed over her crumpled pink scrubs, expertly starting to pout. "Se lo fai di nuovo, ti uccido io stesso" (If you do it again, I'll kill you personally)

That it was your last police operations for the time being, which you would do in the next few weeks, was more than clear to you. But you did not care. The most important thing you had to worry about now was your wife, whom you had neglected for weeks, and your health.

[toasttt11]

five times quinn knew

One.

March 28, 2020

Carter answered the FaceTime from Quinn smiling at her phone waiting for the call to connect from Michigan to Sweden.

“Hi Quinny.” Carter smiled at her big brother, sitting on the couch in her common room in Sweden.

“Hey Cart.” Quinn smiled softly at his sister, feeling weird to be home with his family and without her, “How has your day been?” Quinn yawned slightly having just woke up and wanting to call his sister before anyone else wakes up and interrupts him, and Sweden is six hours ahead of Michigan.

“Good, I just got back from our practices so i have the rest of the day off.” Carter smiled telling Quinn about her morning having got back from her hockey practice a little bit ago.

Quinn heard a door open and saw Carter’s head snap up away from the camera and saw her smile, a smile he has never seen before.

“Is that?” Carter happily grinned seeing Connor holding something in his hands.

Connor laughed and handed her a smoothie, “Thought you would want one.” Connor soflty smiled at his teammate who has became one of his best friends the last few weeks, he saw she was on call with her brother and quietly excused himself knowing she missed her brothers.

“Was that Connor?” Quinn questioned rasing an eyebrow at the screen, thinking about how Carter just acted.

Carter snapped out of something and looked down at the screen, “Yeah.” Carter nodded happily sipping on her smoothie.

Quinn smiled softly seeing his baby sister have her first crush and he has a feeling she hasn’t even realized it yet.

Two.

April 13, 2021

Connor frowned as he watched Carter play the game even though she had been very sick the last two days, throwing up often but Connor also knew how much Carter wanted to play in the game as it’s important game if they want to play if the playoffs this season.

The Regina Pats did end up winning the game securing their spot in the playoffs. Carter also had to throw up multiple times during the game and Connor was seriously worried as Carter has barely ate anything that last two days and had been throwing up so much.

Connor helped Carter into her apartment and walked her to her bed, Carter slowly laid down and Connor covered her up and tucked her in, “I’ll be right back okay.” Connor brushed a hair off her face before grabbing the bucket and setting it next to her.

“Okay.” Carter quietly croaked out feeling miserable.

Connor opened Carter’s phone pulling up Quinny🩵 and hitting the call button.

Connor heard the call accept and Quinn’s voice come through, “Hey Cart, i saw you guys won, good job!” Quinn smiled as he was laying down on his couch.

Connor cleared his throat nervously, “Hey uh it’s Connor.”

“Connor? Where’s Carter?” Quinn sat up hearing Connor.

“Carters in bed but she’s sick, really sick. She’s been throwing up the lays two days and can’t keep anything down, She shouldn’t have played tonight and i couldn’t stop her. And she’s not getting any better and i have no idea how to help her and she doesn’t want anyone knowing and-“ Connor rushed out all those words breathing heavily, he felt his hand shake anxiously.

“Woah buddy, take a deep breath okay.” Quinn soflty spoke to Connor, even though he is nervous for Carter, Quinn was getting up and starting to quickly pack a bag, “Try to get more liquids in her and i’ll be there in a few hours okay.”

“Okay.” Connor took a deep breath slowly nodding, feeling a bit better because of Quinn.

“And Connor thank you.” Quinn couldn’t help but softly smile seeing how worried Connor was for Carter and how Connor is taking care of his baby sister.

Three.

September 10, 2022

Quinn walked in the kitchen in the morning hearing Carter in the kitchen already and saw her blushing and smiling as she held a big bouquet of flowers and Quinn could tell they were her favorite type of flowers.

“Who are those from?” Quinn teasingly smirked knowing exactly who they were from.

“Connor.” Carter sheepishly told her brother with a smile.

“They are very pretty.” Quinn nodded at his sister with a smile.

“Aren’t they!” Carter happily smiled giggling as she looked at her flowers.

Quinn could feel his heart softened seeing Carter so happy about something, it’s not often she gets so happy about something and it reminded him of the days when she was a kid and would be that happy when anyone in the family would play hockey with her and it made him happy that there are still things that can make Carter that happy.

Quinn knew that nothing in the world makes Carter more happy than Connor does and that’s all Quinn could ask for.

Four.

October 22, 2022

Carter happily smiled as she quickly got out of her gear earning a few looks because they had just lost and she never looks this excited, Carter showered quickly and put on her outfit back on and rushed out of the locker room seeing Connor waiting outside the locker room, She smiled happily walking over to him getting pulled into a tightly hug.

“Hi.” Carter happily spoke to her best friend, resting her head againt his chest and relaxing being in the arms of her bestfriend.

“Hi.” Connor grinned, Connor being home for a few days and Carter invited him to her game and to stay over with her for the night.

“Baby Hughes have a boyfriend?” Brock asked Quinn as they walked out of the locker room, seeing Carter with a guy.

“Not yet,” Quinn fondly shook his head, “He is her best friend they use to play together.”

Brock nodded in understanding and say his goodbyes to Quinn and ruffled Carter’s hair as he walked by her to his girlfriend.

“Brock!” Carter groaned and Connor chuckled slightly.

Quinn walked over to the two and Connor smiled seeing Quinn, Quinn pulled Connor into a hug and smiled at him.

The three headed to the car and Quinn drove them back to his apartment.

Quinn knew the two missed each other so he had no problem seeing them head to Carter room to spend time alone. Quinn just headed to his room and started reading his book in bed.

Carter let Connor get changed into comfortable clothes in her bathroom as she changed into his sweats and Luke’s hoodie.

Carter hopped into her bed quickly turning on her heated blanket waiting for Connor to come out of the bathroom.

Connor came out of the bathroom and quickly got into the bed next to Carter and Carter cuddled up to him. Connor and Carter started taking about everything they had missed over the last few months.

Quinn closed his book ready to go sleep and paused hearing the giggles coming from Carter’s room and fondly smiled glad to hear her laugh a lot again. Quinn having noticed Carter had been sad lately and knew she was missing her best friend. Quinn smiled glad Connor is her best friend and is waiting until they finally get together.

Five.

April 15, 2023

Connor had finished his last season at the Regina Pats and had come home for the few weeks before everything for the Drafy starts, he saw Carter’s last home game and had spent a lot of time with Carter.

Carter staying in Vancouver for a little while before Jack and Luke are done with the playoffs and they head to Michigan and getting to spend time with Connor.

Connor was peacefully laying his head in Carter’s lap as she brushed her fingers through his hair as she read out loud.

Connor always loving listening to Carter read and had asked Carter once before to read to him and now it’s something they do often and they both enjoy.

Quinn walked into the apartment hearing Carter read out loud and paused knowing Carter absolutely hates reading out loud and use to hate having to in school, he remembered she would practice with him the night before she had to read in class. Quinn quietly walked into the living seeing Carter reading to Connor and couldn’t help but smile seeing how much Connor doesn’t even realize how much an effect he has on Carter.

[scripts4dreamers]

Leave a light on pt. 3

AN: Part 3 is heeeeeerreeeee! My little 50 page fic has turned into an 87 page fic (and counting), so these are going to keep coming. Thank you again to everyone who's said nice things about this fic. it means a lot.

Part One, Part Two, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Solas’ healing was remarkable. It took several days for him to get his mobility back to where he had been before the battle with the archdemon but, considering that Amala had been planning to track his healing in weeks, if not months, she considered it a marvel. Sometimes, when they ate together, or when Solas consented to sit still long enough for her to manually check on the progress of his wounds and burns, she could physically see them healing over. It was like…well, it was like magic.

Outside of that things had been progressing slowly. Solas was giving her space, which she appreciated, and they had fallen into a comfortable routine. Every morning after they woke and prepared for the day, they would meet in the library for breakfast. After breakfast, Solas would wish her well and leave, slipping through the Eluvian into the wider fade. He was searching for something, though whether it was a physical something or more of an emotional something she wasn’t quite sure. If she asked she knew he would tell her, but every time she opened her mouth to actually do that, she hesitated. Amala would then spend the day exploring the lighthouse, building bridges to the surrounding islands and learning as many of their secrets as she could. They would meet in the dining room for dinner, spend hours discussing their various findings and then slowly make the walk back to their respective chambers and say goodnight. On her own in her chambers, Amala would then document the things she had seen and felt around the different islands and read through her past entries to see if she could figure out any patterns. She would bathe, dress for sleep and then lie awake in bed and replay every interaction in her head, painfully aware that Solas was just a short walk away.

Things between them were still fragile. After the day when she’d helped bathe him, touch between them became infrequent and always happened in passing. It was as though they had both realised how dangerous that kind of physical closeness was and they were afraid to shatter one another. At first that made sense. After all they were both recovering from more injuries than they could count but, as time continued to pass and even their darkest bruises faded from black, to purple and then to green, the softness began to feel strained. They orbited around one another, trading looks and smiles, but never quite closing the distance. Occasionally she would touch Solas’ shoulder as she moved around him to reach a glass, or he would place his hand on the small of her back and usher her out of his way in the library. When they walked back from the dining hall they were close enough that the backs of their hands brushed, but it never went further than that. It was almost funny. If someone had told the Amala who snuck into Solas’ tent every other night that one day she would hesitate to hold his hand in the dark, she would have laughed right in their face, but here they were.

Part of it was Solas giving her space. She knew that. Part of it was him wrestling his own demons and part of it was a personal discomfort she had over what she called “the Mythal of it all”. It hadn’t always been a problem. At first Amala had barely even noticed but, as the days wore on… Mythal was everywhere. Statues, murals, books. Everywhere Amala turned there was some depiction of Mythal, and right by her side, every time, was Solas. At first Amala figured that she must be jealous, but it wasn’t quite that. Even when her and Solas had first met she had known that he was older than her and probably more experienced. There had never been any sort of illusion that they were each other's' firsts. It wasn’t even hard for her to accept that Fen’Harel may have had a romantic relationship with Mythal. It was translating that romantic relationship to her, and to her relationship with Solas that Amala couldn’t wrap her head around.

Solas had tried holding her hand once. They had been leaning against the wolf statue in the courtyard, admiring the night sky and discussing nothing of importance when she had felt him shift closer, his fingers brushing against hers and staying there. As always, his skin against hers had made her feel like she was touching the stars. Her whole body had shivered. She had wanted to let him hold her hand. She had wanted to close that last bit of distance and kiss him but, as she decided to, she caught sight of one of the Mythal statues, towering over the stairs, watching her with its blank, featureless face and Amala had pulled away instead.

It was one thing, she figured, for the love of your life to have loved someone more than you once. Sure, fine, that made sense. It was one thing to learn that you were not the love of your life’s love of their life. Sure, fine. Hurtful maybe, but not ultimately too much of a problem. Amala could accept that. It was another thing entirely for the love of your life’s love of their life to be Mythal, the Protector, the All-Mother and to be constantly surrounded by depictions of them together thousands and thousands of years before you were even born. It was more than an emotional crisis, it was an epistemic nightmare. So, yes, maybe she was being a little more distant than she wanted to be.

In these moments of crisis, Caretaker had become her saving grace. They were not the most emotionally responsive confidant, but they always managed to make her feel better and they always listened.

“The Wolf would be able to answer your questions more effectively than I can, Dweller,” they always said, “perhaps when he returns from the Crossroads, you can ask him.”

“Perhaps,” she always agreed, with absolutely no intention of following through.

If Caretaker could have sighed, they certainly would have.

—-

The peace couldn’t last forever. Something eventually had to snap. It happened at dinner, after Amala had just finished explaining the magic of a nearby island that held a seemingly bottomless pool in the centre. Solas had been listening intently, as he always did, smiling as she spoke and asking relevant questions, basking in the simple pleasure of being with her, of hearing her happiness.

The wine was strong, the food was good and Solas was starting to feel the slightest bit tipsy when something Amala said caught his attention, “You should come see it. There are flowers and ancient willows all around. It’s beautiful if you can get past the Mythal of it all.”

The moment the words left her lips, he could see that she wanted to die. She pressed her lips together and she avoided eye contact, clearly hoping to pass it off as nothing. Solas, of course, knew her far too well for that.

“The Mythal of it all?” he questioned with a confused smile, “What exactly is the Mythal of it all?”

Amala shrugged, “It’s nothing. Ignore me. The pool is beautiful and you should visit if you have time.”

“Amala-” he started to insist

“The Dweller is referring to the various depictions of you and Mythal that are scattered around the lighthouse, Dread Wolf,” Caretaker spoke up, refilling Solas’ glass and seemingly pretending not to see the daggers Amala was staring into their head, “she finds them difficult, emotionally and intellectually she finds her emotional reaction to them confusing. It has been causing a great deal of distress.”

“Thanks for that, Caretaker,” she grumbled, her face so hot with shame that it looked like it must physically hurt.

Solas was stunned. Without meaning to, he began sorting through his memories looking for signs of discomfort in his Inquisitor. He tried to put himself in her shoes, but there were so many factors that just didn’t transfer that he couldn’t help but think he did a poor job of it. How had he missed her unhappiness? How had Caretaker seen something that he, himself had not?

He was quiet for a while, long enough for Amala to force herself to look at him to see his reaction. He avoided her eye, feeling a strange mixture of confusion and shame. He walked through the lighthouse in his mind, flushing with embarrassment as he realised the true extent of Mythal’s presence. He had grown so accustomed to this place that he barely noticed anymore. His attention was always so squarely on one of two things; Amala, on where she was and how she was feeling, or on how he could atone for his endless list of sins that he hadn’t even noticed the giant stone elephant in the room. He sighed, feeling his age for the first time in ages and braced himself for a conversation he did not want to have. It seemed that, no matter how hard he tried, he was always making some sort of mistake.

He finally said, “Amala, I am so sorry. I had not considered that being here might be uncomfortable for you.”

Amala opened her mouth to speak, closed it and then pushed her chair away from the dining room table, disappearing into the pantry. His chest clenched with panic. She was slipping through his fingers again. She had realised the mistake she had made in loving him. He had finally pushed her too far. He-

Solas started to ask where she was going but, before he could finish, she returned, carrying four bottles of wine.

“If we’re going to do the relationship post mortem, I am going to need to be a great deal more drunk,” she announced, “you’re welcome to join me if you wish.”

Relief. Palpable, irrational relief.

“Oh I do wish,” Solas immediately agreed, uncorking a bottle and pouring them each a very full cup.

In unison they each downed it, pulling faces as the wine burned its way down their throats. Solas immediately refilled their cups.

“This is such a bad idea,” Amala said, drinking deep.

Solas shrugged, downing his second glass, “We’ve had worse.”

Almost immediately, he began to feel the effect. That was the problem with the fade, it heightened things, made them more vivid and alive. Usually that was something Solas appreciated but, as he physically felt the alcohol start to loosen his muscles and go to his head, he could acknowledge that it was also fairly dangerous

Amala laughed, watching him pour a third glass and gesture for her to get on finishing her second, “Oh now this is a surprise. You almost never drank with us back in the Inquisition days.”

He finished his glass in two deep gulps and poured another one, “During the Inquisition days I was trying to hide the fact that I was a secret elven god and also the cause of all our troubles. Being drunk would have made that significantly more difficult.”

She raised her eyebrows incredulously and the look - that look of fond exasperation - was so familiar that Solas had to physically hold himself back from leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, on the spot where he could see her smile just starting to form.

Too soon, he told himself. Far too soon, but someday…

The thought alone made him shiver.

“What, the Dread Wolf can’t drink and lie?” She asked teasingly, snapping Solas out of his daydreaming, “I’m disappointed.” She took a deep drink from her cup, seemingly as an excuse to break eye contact before continuing, “And, wait a second, aren’t you the one who’s constantly harping on about how you’re not an elven god?”

“I never said I couldn’t drink and lie,” he replied, “I only said it would make it more difficult. What I couldn’t do at the time was drink, lie and remember all the very good reasons I had for not sleeping with the Inquisitor. I’ve been told that’s a common problem with alcohol.”

Amala snorted, “Isn’t that the truth.”

“And, alright, I’m not an elven god, I’m a very old, very powerful immortal elven mage who waged war on the Titans and then the Evanuris, locking them in a prison I built by creating a veil that separated our world from magic. Somehow I don’t think that distinction would have mattered much when Bull stuck a horn through my stomach for giving the orb to Corypheus.” Solas pointed out, realising with growing mortification just how drunk he was becoming.

It was worth it though. She threw her head back and let out a roaring laugh, the exact laugh he sometimes caught just a hint of in his dreams. His Inquisitor had always had the kind of laugh that made everyone around her laugh as well, like she made things brighter just by seeing the humor in them.

“Alright, alright, that’s fair,” she conceded, still chuckling, “damn, I forgot how sassy you can be.”

“I am not sassy!” Solas insisted.

“You are sassy, and you’re a lightweight,” she continued, finishing her glass and giving him a nod of thanks when he immediately refilled it.

“I prefer the term sardonic,” he corrected, “and you, my dear, are deflecting.”

Amala pulled a face, “I am not! I’m just not drunk enough for all of that yet. Keep teaching me what words I should call you instead of sassy while I drown my inhibitions in this-” she looked at the bottle, which had no label, “what even is this?”

Solas shrugged, feeling warmer and lighter than he had in ages, “There’s no way to tell. Some of the bottles here date back to before the fall of the Evanuris.”

Amala, who had just taken a swig, choked, “What?” she spluttered, coughing, “You’re telling me that this wine could be over a thousand thousand years old?”

He took the bottle from her hands and inspected it, “Probably not this specific bottle, but that one-” he gestured to one of the others she had brought out, “that one I distinctly remember.”

“Well then fuck this bottle,” she said, turning to the one he had pointed at, “I want to try the pre-veil wine.”

Solas couldn’t help but laugh, delighted by how fearless his Inquisitor always was when faced with the unknown world. It had never stopped surprising him how she approached everything with curiosity, with the sincere hope that the next thing around the corner would be something wonderful rather than something terrifying. If he had ever been that way then it had been so long ago that he couldn’t remember it. She passed the bottle to him, her eyes wide with reverence as he twisted the cork off. It opened with a loud pop and Amala let out a burst of laughter, clapping as though the bottle had just performed some sort of delightful magic trick. He poured them both a glass of the pale golden liquid, pleased to see that the bubbles had not dissipated over the years and handed one to her. She accepted with a smile, a real, unguarded one and Solas felt his heart stutter in his chest. Their fingers brushed, electricity shot through his body and he felt the instinctual urge to pull away. Luckily, the contact only lasted a second.

“So,” he asked after she had taken a sip, “what do you taste?”

She closed her eyes, humming with pleasure as the flavor coated her tongue and slid down her throat. Solas felt his face get hot.

“It’s-strange,” she eventually said, her eyes still closed, “I guess it tastes like that moment when you’re out with friends and you’re all drunk and you’re all walking home together and someone starts to sing. Like that specific kind of fuzzy, hazy togetherness, with your feet echoing on the ground as one and your voices getting all tangled up in the air.” she opened her eyes again and looked at him, “What was that?”

“Wine,” he answered simply, “before Elgar’nan burned away so many of the things our people used to feel. What you just experienced was the specific emotion the winemaker infused this vintage with. It used to be that sampling wines was like sampling the memories of the winemaker themselves. Each one was completely unique, completely singular.”

Amala stared into her cup with pure wonder, “That’s incredible. I can see now why our nights at the Herald probably seemed tame to you.”

“Oh no,” Solas assured with a laugh, taking a deep swig from his own glass and sighing as the feeling pulled him in, “I tried whatever it was the Iron Bull kept drinking. Once.”

She chuckled, “Ah, Bull. He was always such a riot.”

“He did keep one on their toes, yes,” Solas agreed.

“And he never gave me shit unless I deserved it,” She said, “he never let all the Inquisitor stuff scare him off.” She was quiet for a moment, teetering on the edge of sad, “I’m going to miss the big lug.”

He wanted to say something, but there were no words. If it weren’t for him, she would be home right now. She could pack up and visit the Iron Bull whenever she wanted. There would be a whole world full of people who adored her right at her fingertips. Instead she just had him. A poor substitute. A bad deal. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and drank deep.

“Do you want to know something terrible?” She asked, something dark and intriguing flickering in her eyes.

Solas held her gaze, letting her see his sincerity, “Nothing you say could ever be terrible to me.”

She scrunched up her nose, but he could tell she was pleased, or at least placated.

“I don’t think I’ll miss much.” she admitted, “A handful of people, my favorite bakery and that’s it. Everything else can go fuck itself. The Inquisition, the Imperium, Orlais, Ferelden, the Free Marches, the Chantry, the Templars, the Grey Wardens. Everyone who ever forced me to risk my life cleaning up their fucking messes only to blame me for it afterwards can piss right off. I’m done.”

She pushed herself up, swaying ever so slightly as she made her way to the fireplace, leaning against one of the stone wolves that stood guard at its side. Solas turned in his seat, following her with his eyes and feeling the thrumming pulse of tension as it started to swim right below the surface. Her anger, even subdued like it was now, was magnetic. He had always loved seeing her like this, taking charge of herself, taking charge of her destiny and flinging the expectations of others right back in their faces. Solas had learned long ago that you could push and push and push Amala, and she would try to be accommodating. To a point. Once that point was reached, you had better pray to the gods and take cover, because nothing in all of creation could keep her down.

“Good,” he said honestly, “I always thought that people were far too comfortable asking you to die for them.”

She scrunched up her nose again, “For the cause, technically.”

Solas rolled his eyes, “For them. If others could make the sacrifice and they continuously expected it to come from you then they were asking you to die for them.”

“You died for me once,” she said, so softly that Solas almost missed it.

The simmering tension spiked to a roiling heat and he could feel her gaze on him, heavy with expectation. This time it was him avoiding meeting her eyes as he floundered for the right words. He thought about that lost year often but they had almost never discussed it, at Amala’s insistence. Whenever Solas had tried she would clam up, blinking back tears and ask him to please just leave it alone. Except once.

It had happened right at the beginning of everything, when he was still struggling with his feelings for her, when he had started to accept that it was a pointless fight, that he was already drowning. Still, when he’d found her sobbing her eyes out on the battlements in the pitch black and she’d broken down enough to tell him the full story of what had happened, it had shaken him. It is an odd feeling to stand in front of a woman you have not even kissed yet, who you have barely even touched outside of your darkest and most private dreams, and know that in one year’s time you would lay down your life to save her without a second’s hesitation. In a way it made things much simpler. It had forced him to stop fighting his feelings, anyway.

He took another deep drink and refilled his cup, “I would have died for you a thousand times over if it were necessary.”

Amala sighed and let her eyes drift shut, though whether it was to ward off his words or to better drink them in, he couldn’t say. The wine made everything soft and beautiful, made his already fragile sense of self control feel like an unjustifiable weight on his shoulders that he itched to just throw off, but he held himself back. The last thing he wanted was to shatter the fragile peace they had carved for themselves.

“You can’t say things like that to me,” she said, “not while I’m drunk. You’re going to give me ideas.”

Fuck it, Solas was nothing if not an opportunist. He pushed himself up and made his way towards where she was standing and leaning against the fireplace. He moved slowly, reaching for her while still giving her plenty of time to pull away if he was overstepping. She stayed, her eyes sharp and wary as he moved closer.

“What kind of ideas?” he asked, feeling his blood thrum under his skin as his hands found her hips.

She closed her eyes again, “Bad ones.”

“Tell me about them.”

She laughed, meeting his gaze and leaning ever so slightly forward, into his touch, “They’re really bad.”

“I highly doubt that,” Solas teased, “outside of your inexplicable choice to continue to believe in me, you have world class judgment.”

“Not this time,” she assured.

He pushed his luck, leaning in so that his lips almost brushed her ear when he whispered, “Tell me anyway.”

Amala shivered and Solas felt a deep, primal sense of satisfaction at still being able to draw out those kinds of reactions from her. Perhaps all was not lost, perhaps things between them were not so broken that he could never hope to fix them. They still had chemistry, they could still talk.

Agonizingly, she pulled away, putting that dreaded, hated space in between their bodies again. Solas wanted to scream, but the pained look in Amala’s eye soothed the rough, fraying edges of his control. He was not alone in this pain. She still wanted him, there was just something in the way.

“I think I’m drunk enough to talk about it now,” she said with a resigned sigh.

It? What were they-? It took Solas a second to remember how their conversation had started - damned wine - but once he did, the pieces started to slot into place.

“Mythal.” He said.

“Mythal,” she agreed. She downed the rest of the wine in her cup in one, “I’m not uncomfortable per say,” she eventually started, “I just-” she gestured helplessly, “she’s everywhere, Solas. I can’t go five seconds without seeing some picture, or statue or mural of the two of you together. The walls are painted with your deepest regrets about hurting her. There’s a room whose key is literally just turning giant statues of the two of you to make them look at one another.”

Something in his chest pinched and he couldn’t help but smile. Of course she figured out the statue puzzle. Of course she had uncovered another one of his secrets, “You found the music room, then?”

“I unlocked a door, yes, but I never went inside.” she admitted.

“Why not?” he asked, cocking his head to the side, “I had thought, with your curiosity, you wouldn’t have been able to resist.”

Amala crossed her arms over her chest, something Solas knew she did when she felt vulnerable, as though her arms could create a barrier between her and the world, “I figured that, if you had wanted people to see what was inside there, you wouldn’t have hidden it behind a door that was locked with a massive statue puzzle.”

“A very fair observation,” he smiled, “but now I’m deflecting, we were talking about Mythal.”

She sighed, “It really isn’t important, Solas.”

That stung. She hadn’t meant anything by it, he knew that, but every time she pulled away, every time he asked her what she was thinking and she brushed him off he was reminded of how easy things used to be between them. There had been a time when Amala would just appear in his room and they would spend hours talking about nothing. They had been each others’ confidants. Sometimes Solas longed for a return to that closeness so much that it actually hurt.

Give her time, he reminded himself. You both need time to heal.

“If it is important enough that Caretaker has noticed, that means it is important to you. If it is important to you, it is important to me.” he replied simply, leaning forward slightly to catch her eye, “Tell me what’s on your mind, Vhenan.”

The wine was strong. He could see it affecting Amala. He could still feel it affecting him, loosening his tongue, lowering his carefully constructed inhibitions and heightening his emotions. He clenched his hands into fists at his side to keep them from reaching for her again.

She took a breath, her brow furrowed as she carefully selected each word through, what he could only assume was, a thick fog of drunkenness, “I just don’t quite know how to deal with all of this,” she finally admitted, “I don’t know where I fit. The two of you together, that makes a sort of sense, doesn’t it? You were spirits together, gods together. You forged a body out of lyrium because she asked you to, you went to war for her, you killed Titans for her. She was the great love of your life, it makes sense that she would be memorialised here.” she paused, thinking again before she continued, “But I don’t know where that leaves me, exactly. For most of my life, Mythal was the All-Mother. We prayed to her, we left offerings in her name. I have family members who still wear her Vallaslin. Comparatively, I’m just some woman who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Conceptualising Mythal as a real person, as the man I love’s great love…I suppose I’m just struggling with my place in it.”

Her words fell like stones and settled hard in Solas’ chest. They weren’t meant as a condemnation but hearing her talk, hearing the twists and breaks in her voice, the pain and confusion, it made him flush with shame nonetheless. Was there no end to the damage he had done? Amala had always been head strong, confident in her capabilities but measured in her judgments. The way she spoke about his relationship with Mythal…it was like it was an incontrovertible fact, like she had always been second to Mythal, like she belonged beneath Mythal. It was familiar. It was heartbreaking. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Solas tried to keep his voice gentle when he spoke again, “You believe that Mythal was the great love of my life?”

She shot him an incredulous look that was undercut in its severity by the soft sadness in her eyes, “Don’t do that. I’m not arrogant enough to believe that a year with mortal, Dalish, non-mage me measures up to a goddess you spent centuries with. Look at all you did for Mythal.”

“I did do a lot for Mythal,” he admitted, “I also murdered her, if you remember,” he countered.

“Alright, fair,” she conceded.

“And what makes you think I care about you not being a mage?” He asked, “I understand I haven’t always been the kindest about the Dalish, which is unfair of me, and you being a mortal did raise some concerns but-”

“You are terrible at comforting people,” Amala interrupted with a sad chuckle. She raised her hand to her eye and, to Solas’ horror, wiped away a single sliver of wetness, “any other ways I was deficient then?”

“Vhenan-”

His resolve cracked and he stepped towards her again and gently touched her shoulders. She turned her head so that he couldn’t see her face, but she didn’t push him away, which Solas took as a good sign.

“Look, I get it,” she said, her voice just the slightest bit shaky, “you loved her, she’s gone. I get to spend an eternity in a shrine to you both. Let’s just move on, alright?”

“You are not deficient,” Solas insisted, “I am drunk and you know I can get caught on little details but what I was trying to say-”

“It doesn’t matter, i-”

“Yes it does!” he interrupted, “It does because it is clear to me now that you have no idea what you mean to me. It’s my fault, of course, I was so hell bent on keeping my distance and minimizing the fall out that I never actually said the words. I am so sorry, Vhenan, truly. My only defense is that I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” she replied, her eyes locked downwards, away from him.

He wanted to give her space. He wanted to back away, to fold his hands behind his back and explain calmly and clearly. He wanted to be Wisdom in that moment, because wisdom had never steered him wrong but, with his Inquisitor - his Amala - so close and the wine pumping through his veins, he was just a man.

“Look at me,” he said quietly. Her eyes stayed trained on the ground. Solas sighed and cupped her face with his hands, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, “I will not lie to you and say that I did not hunger for Mythal’s approval. I did. I always have, but she was not and will never be the great love of my life. After the way I have treated you, it’s only natural that you would feel as though I valued your love less than Mythal’s. I see that, I understand it, but please hear me when I say that I have never loved another as deeply or as ruinously as I love you. I may have forged a physical body for myself to please Mythal, but I had never felt like it was truly mine until I touched you. For centuries I had felt ugly and twisted and wrong in this body. It was a constant reminder of my failures, of my weakness, but you-” he shook his head, “you changed everything. You change everything.”

“You’ve said that to me before,” Amala said softly.

“I know,” Solas smiled, “but it bears repeating. Amala, when I called you my heart for the first time, I did not do that lightly. I have lived a very long time, and I have loved very many people, but I am still a man. I still have only one heart, and it belongs to you. If it will make you happy, I will tear down every statue in this building and repaint the walls. Hells, I’ll build you an entirely new lighthouse if you want me to.”

She chuckled, “That is perhaps a bit excessive.”

“Well,” Solas conceded, letting the tension break, “no one has ever accused me of thinking too small.”

Amala laughed gently again and he savored the simple pleasure of being the person that made her smile.

“True enough,” she agreed, taking a step back and sheepishly meeting his eye again, “I’m sorry for ruining our night.”

He let her go, though every centimeter between them felt like a mile.

“No, Vhenan. You ruined nothing. We have…” he considered his words carefully, very aware that he was still drunk, “it had to be said.”

“Ten years apart is a long time,” she agreed, taking a seat at the table.

Something in his chest softened with relief. She wasn’t leaving him yet. He followed her example and retook his seat.

“Too long,” he replied.

“Is that so? And whose fault is that?” she continued, with a hint of her old teasing tone.

He raised his glass, silently swearing that she could mock him for the rest of time so long as she kept looking at him like that, “Add it to my list of sins.”

“Where on the list?”

“The very top, of course,” he teased back, taking another sip and relishing her fond, if exasperated, smile.

So long as he could keep her smiling, he thought to himself, everything will have been worth it. Maybe it was the wine talking but, in that moment, Solas could not think of anything he would rather do with his existence than make Amala Lavellan smile.

[brooooswriting]

For Carol: How about Carol growing slightly distant and neglecting R because she's scared she isn't enough since she always has to leave earth and be away for longer times. Some nice, juicy angst until it gets resolved. Happy ending with R living with Carol on her ship?

To the end of the galaxy

You met Carol and furry in a restaurant and it just immediately clicked. It was like that scene from hotel Transylvania, where they met and it chinged. You couldn’t take your eyes off of each other which caused Carol to walk into a table. After you stopped laughing you walked over to greet her, introducing yourself and she was quick to do the same.

The same week you went on the first date, followed by 12 more before she had to go to space again. It was a hard goodbye, you had met up nearly everyday and now you could barely keep in contact. But while the blonde offered you an easy way out several times you didn’t take it. You liked her, a lot, and you wanted to stay with her.

It worked out rather fine. She would come to earth as often as possible, staying some weeks and spending every day with you. Those weeks were always the highlights and you counted the days until she would come back.

But lately it has been different. She didn’t visit as often and if she did she only stayed for a couple of days, barely talking to you or touching you. She was distant and it was weird.

You were sitting on your couch with a friend/coworker when the door suddenly swung open. Carol walked in, her normal stoic face as she appeared in the living room. “Carol? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” You asked her but she barely answered, mumbling something about flying by and wanting to say hi before she walked upstairs.

“Do-Do you want me to go?” Your friend asked, sensing the weird mood that suddenly appeared. You shook your head, the blonde wasn’t going to talk to you anyway. “Are you guys okay?” He then asked, which was a harder question.

“I’m not sure but we’ll figure it out sooner or later. Now about that problem…” you discussed the reason he was actually there until later that evening. Once he went away you started to cook the captains favorite, hoping that it would lift her mood but it was no use.

She came down, thanked you for the food, she ate with you but she barely talked. It was so goddamn confusing. When you went to bed that night she didn’t hold you like she used to, she was on her phone till late at night which was when you realized it was over.

She had distanced herself from you months ago but you didn’t wanna believe it so you acted as if everything was fine.

The next morning Carol woke up confused, the place to her left was empty and cold which meant that you had been up for a longer while. Normally she was up way before you and normally she used to hug you close to herself until you woke up. She strolled through the room for a bit looking at the pictures you had up from her, you looked so happy on those. All the other pictures you had up where from the times she wasn’t there, you looked less happy. Your smile didn’t even reach your eyes.

When she came downstairs she sensed something was off. And the feeling got proved right when she saw you sitting at the table with a coffee in your hand, the other side empty. Everytime she visited you made coffee for the two of you. Before the blonde could even greet you you started to talk. “We should talk. Sit please.”

With a bad feeling and a heavy heart she sat down opposite of you, her hands stretching out to touch yours but you pulled back. “What do you want to talk about?” She asked, it was a stupid question. She knew what you wanted.

“I think we should break up. I know you’ve been thinking about it for a while and I don’t want to keep you here if you wanna go. Since I have to work today I will be gone for about 7 hours which should give you enough time to pack your things but you’re always welcome to get something if you forget something” your voice broke several times as you spoke, tears streaming down your face while they brimmed carols eyes. “I’m sorry this didn’t work out C, I’m sorry if I didn’t love you enough” you pressed a kiss to her head before leaving the house, giving Carol space to cry.

She knew that this was her fault, it was her fault that you broke up with her and it was her fault that you were crying right now but it felt so unfair to keep this relationship alive. She thought this was what she wanted, to give you freedom and to stop you from hurting when she wasn’t there. But now she felt like she hurt you a lot more.

You’ve never felt so terrible. You loved Carol with everything you had and now you might never see her again which was ripping you apart. Sure, the long distance thing was hard but you would happily wait for her if you at the end would be with her. But it was no use, it was over. She made it obvious that she didn’t want to be around you anymore.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, the pictures of the two of you taunting you but you didn’t have the heart to take them off. You were sure that you were going to marry Carol one day, that you guys were going to live a happily ever after but now you just thought that you were stupid.

Carol didn’t feel any better, she cried in her ship with Goose on her lap. She was still in the sky above your house, she couldn’t bring herself to fly away. This was what she wanted but now that she got it? It was terrible and she could feel that you weren’t feeling better. She was sure about it when she saw you leave your house for work, tear tracks still covering your pale face.

When you came home the whole house smelled like your favorite vanilla chai candle, pizza and like something burnt. At first you were scared that you left a candle or the stove on but when Goose came toward you, rubbing against your leg you put one and one together.

With careful steps you walked into the dining room to find Carol there, figuring out how to plate the pizza to make it look good and fancy. Or better said, worth your time. “So, what’s going on here?” You asked, trying to keep your voice as nonchalant as possible.

The blondes head shot up at the sound of your voice and the piece of pizza in her hand fell onto the plate. “Y/n, you’re home earlier than expected” she started, staring at you for a moment. “I, uhm, I got pizza from the place down the street. The one you like so much and I bought you new candles and I really want to talk to you.”

You sighed, you really didn’t feel like talking right now. Your job sucked, you were tired and your head hurt from all the crying but the way Carol looked like she was about to cry made you give in. “Fine, but quickly. I got a long day tomorrow” you sat down opposite of her, starting the piece of pizza on your plate.

“Look, I know I’ve been an ass for the last couple of months and I regret that. Trust me I do but I thought it would be for the best. I have to leave so so often that it felt wrong to tie you to me you know? You’re so amazing and kind and pretty and friendly and you deserve the world. You deserve someone who would destroy the world to save you, but I’ve been destroying you to save the world. And that’s just now right” you opened your mouth to say something, the small smile on your lips giving Carol a hint. “And yes I know that sounds like a cheesy fanfic or something” she said before you could. “But I mean it. I felt terrible about it and i thought when I distance myself we can both move on from each other and you can be happy. God, I was so wrong because I don’t think I can move on” she looked at the plate in front of her, suddenly not knowing where she was going anymore.

“Carol, I didn’t care about all that. I knew what I put myself into, I was okay with it. Sure the distance was hard but you’re worth it. I would go to the end of the galaxy for you” you promised, your hand holding hers on the table. You wanted to be mad at her, you really did but it wasn’t often that she opened up like that and you wanted to show her that it was okay to show feelings and open up.

“To the end of the galaxy?” She asked, titling her head to the side. You gave her a convincing nod with a small smile. “Then I think I know how to fix all of this”

Two weeks later you woke up in space, Carol laying behind you, her arm carefully wrapped around your waist as you looked outside. The captains solution was that you moved in with her and you loved it. Your old job was shit and there was nothing really that held you on earth, so you jumped on the idea. Space was the coolest thing ever and by now you knew how to fly it and everyday Carol taught you something new about the technology.

“I love you” she mumbled as she shuffled closer to you, burying her head in your hair. If she had known how amazing it would be to wake up with you every morning she would have asked you to come with her a long time ago.

“I love you too” you answered as you stared at your reflection in the glass. Goose settled between you and the window. You were happy to have your own little family from which you’d never have to be separated from again.

“But we are still renovating the ship” you added, laughing as you heard Carol groan. The ship was kinda sad from the inside and there was barely any place where you could cook or do anything else, so a renovation was the solution. The blonde hated that, it was so much work.

“Anything for you” you turned your head gave her a quick kiss before closing your eyes again. It was too early to be awake anyway.

[rambosgirl]

Could you please do a oneshot where reader gives Rambo a job on her farm and they get close to one another. Please and thank you ☺️

Ooh interesting idea! You got it anon <3 And I'm so sorry this took SO long uhh I planned out like 6 parts to this thing so we'll see where that goes but enjoy chapter 1

Long Way Home - Chapter 1

The sun had been long gone by the time you dragged yourself through your front door, barely done with your chores. You sank to the floor, your legs refusing to hold your weight any longer.

It was easier before. Your father passed away two years ago, so you came back home to help your mother with the grueling farm work that she could no longer do. She would help you with the easier things, but her health took a turn for the worse - some days she couldn’t even get out of bed.

It was making things harder for you. Not just the physical labor you were burdened with alone, but the emotional toll it took on you. You hadn’t fully processed your father's passing yet, and the thought of losing your mother kept you up many nights. 

You had sacrificed so much to support her, your social life, your independence, to keep the family farm running, to keep your childhood home alive. You could never bring yourself to resent it. It was a choice, a sacrifice you made for the people and the place you love. You just wondered how long you could keep going like this.

Your schedule stayed fairly consistent: Your mornings were spent feeding and watering the animals, milking the cows, working the horses, and then lastly tending to the garden. You’d go inside next, waking your mother up, making sure she ate breakfast and took her medications. Then around noon, you were off to your job at the bakery. 

The bakery was small enough of a business that your boss was a reasonable, nice person, allowing some flexibility in your schedule when needed. You would get off work in the evening, drive home to make dinner for you and your mother, then finish up the evening chores. You would collapse in bed, the day taking a heavy toll on your body and mind— all to do it again tomorrow. 

But the to-do list kept growing. There were things you simply couldn’t handle alone, like thinning the ten-acre forest at the edge of the property for fire control, and moving the stack of freshly delivered alfalfa bales before the rainy season. It felt like drowning.

That all changed the day you met John. He first came to the bakery late one afternoon and bought a few loaves of bread. He stood out from your usual customers with his weathered look and green uniform. A veteran.

Just from working in the bakery, you heard all about him through your customers, all with very different stories and ideas.

"Oh, John? Yeah, I hired him to finish my hay shed frame last week," Mr. Hannover drawled.

"I heard he’s dangerous,” Jessica whispered loudly, “Some kind of rogue veteran. Took out a whole town up in Washington state!"

"He’s been good to me,” Dana started, wrangling her two squirming children, “Helped me clear my yard last month. Even helped build a new playground.”

You were at the bakery when John came in a second time. Despite the mixed things people had to say about him, you trusted him. You had to ask him for help.

He quietly paid and grabbed the waiting bag, the loaves still warm inside. He turned towards the door when you called him

"Wait."

He stopped and turned back to you. "Something wrong?"

“No! Well, there's no problem with your order.” You stumbled over your words, suddenly nervous under his steady gaze. “I just… I was wondering if you might be able to help me. With something. Only if you’re interested, of course."

He tilted his head slightly, inviting you to continue.

"I have a farm just out of town,” you said. “I’ve been running on my own, but it’s just too much right now. I can’t pay much, but I could offer housing if you want it."

He didn’t respond immediately, studying you with unreadable, strangely intense eyes. Then he nodded. "Alright."

You smiled, relief washing over you.

“Thank you! I can show you around tomorrow morning.”

You tore a piece of paper, quickly scribbling your address on it before handing it to him. He accepted it with a short nod, turning to the door again.

You drove home feeling a little lighter than before, the usual ache in your chest eased. As you  stepped inside, the scent of melted butter and syrup invaded the air around you. Your mother stood at the stove, humming with her back to you as she flipped a pancake. 

“You’re up,” you said, surprised. 

She turned around, grinning. “Thought we could have breakfast for dinner. Felt like a pancake kind of night.” The wrinkles around her eyes from years of laughter crinkled as she flipped the last pancake off the griddle and turned the stove off. 

You laughed as you took two plates from the cupboard. “You always said breakfast food could fix anything.”

“I still stand by that,” your mom stated, stacking pancakes on the plates, “Bad days, heartbreak, even setting the fire alarm off at 6am.”

You groaned. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” 

“Not a chance,” she laughed.

As you ate together, the warmth of past memories wrapped around you like a warm hug. Mornings spent flipping pancakes with your dad filled your thoughts, your mom pretending not to gag at your first disastrous attempts. You could still picture her face as she taught you, patient and kind, even when the batter ended up on the ceiling.

As you lay in bed that night, filled with pancakes and good memories, you couldn’t turn your mind off. But this time, it was in a good way. Your mom was feeling better, and you had a good time with her tonight. And something about how John Rambo looked at you had you thinking about him until your heavy eyes fluttered shut, the rest of the world falling away. 

The next morning, you woke up earlier than usual, despite having spent so much time thinking about John the night before. You didn’t expect yourself to feel this way, the realization hitting like a wave. You could feel it starting - the warmth in your heart, the butterflies in your stomach - as you spotted him through the window, walking down your long driveway. 

It was silly really, you thought to yourself as you threw your trusty flannel on. You hadn’t even known him long, but there was something about him - his quiet strength, the way he didn’t try to impress anyone, yet commanded respect without saying a word. It made your cheeks heat up as you hurried outside to greet him. 

The cool morning air filled your lungs as you stepped onto the porch, but all you could focus on was him. His steady pace, the way he stepped with purpose. You stepped down the stairs to meet him where he was, smiling when you reached him. 

“Good morning,” you said, your breath visible in the chilled air. 

John nodded in acknowledgement. “Morning,” he replied, his voice low but warm. 

A loud call from your milk cow broke through the morning air, reminding you of what you were supposed to be doing. “That’s our cue,” you joked as you walked towards the pastures, John following suit. “I’ll show you my routine. You’ll catch on quick.”

Barn cats darted out of your path as you and John moved toward the cow pasture. “I usually start with the cows, get them fed and milked. Then I feed and work the horses.”

You fell into your steady rhythm as you moved from chore to chore, pointing out where everything was along the way - Your father’s old tool shed, the feed bins, and all the water troughs, waiting to be topped off. John listened intently, helping where he could. It wasn’t too long before he fell into step with you, mirroring your pace. 

There was something nice about doing this with him, and it wasn’t just about the promise of lighter work, your burden shared with another. It felt like the beginning of something new. Something better. 

Chapter 2 here

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 40

Warnings: weak human pet, vampire carewhumper, recovery whump, blood drinking

Alex tried not to get his hopes up, but he'd put so much effort into this, it would be terrible if it didn't work to make his human happy. He slipped some mild sedatives into Mallory's garlic meal before serving it, hoping it would help relax the human and lower his guard a little – and it worked marvelously. He ended up with a perfect, compliant human, completely at his disposal. Mallory was so calm and sweet like this, it made Alex's chest ache with familiar loneliness. He could have this if he drugged the human, it seemed – but he wished things could be different. Wished he could have a real friend.

The feeling was brief, drowned out by the insistent hunger awakening in him. It was time to test Anisa's theory. And it was a different feeding than anything he'd ever experienced before. The blood was sweeter than honey, richer than the most expensive wine, with a hint of garlic taste to it. Anisa was right. Blood from a willing human was so much better. It filled his head with blank fuzz, sucked him into a world of pure bliss. He barely had the self-control not to drain the human dry.

But apparently he still took more than he'd thought, because after a few minutes of paradise Mallory's voice snapped him out of it and he realized how pale his human was. He really, really didn't want to stop drinking – but if he wanted to be able to feed like this a second time, he couldn't kill his human. So he reluctantly detached from Mallory's neck, licking the puncture wounds closed.

Mallory looked so peaceful like this, all limp and relaxed. Alex carefully scooped him up and returned him to the bedroom he'd been keeping him in, staying with him until he'd fallen asleep, which wasn't long.

After that he left to call Anisa and excitedly tell her of his success – his hard work paid off.

-------------------------------------------------------

Mallory awoke feeling well-rested and pain-free. Then the memories of the day before came rushing back, and his face heated with shame and disgust. Alex had drugged him, he was certain of it. And he had just… let it happen. Hadn't even fought back as the vampire fed.

Not like it would have gotten me anywhere, though, he thought sourly. He flinched when the bedroom door opened, and his tormentor came to stand next to his bed with a hot breakfast meal. No doubt one easy to microwave, considering how terrible the bloodsucker was at cooking.

Mallory sat up with a sigh and accepted the plate, setting it in his lap, and sheepishly taking the utensils he was offered – plastic ones this time, he noted. Alex beamed brightly at him as he ate, and Mallory frowned. He'd never seen the vampire so… alive-looking. Or not miserable and bitter.

“I have a proposal,” Alex announced. Mallory raised an eyebrow at him. What had the monster so uncharacteristically chipper? “Yesterday was… perfect. So, if you can keep up this good behavior for two solid weeks, I'll let you have that phone call.”

Mallory's heart stopped at ‘phone call’. A carrot being dangled in front of him, he knew. Motivation to be passive and compliant.

“Okay,” he mumbled around a mouthful of food. Challenge accepted.

⏪️ Back     Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings @mj-or-say10

@tippytappytyping

[unclewaynemunson]

TW minor character death / grief

Everyone thought Eddie lived with his uncle because his dad fucked up too bad and couldn't take proper care of a teenage boy. But that wasn't the truth: Eddie lived with his uncle because Wayne was the one needing someone to take care of him.

The truth was that Eddie used to have a cousin. Meredith was only three weeks older than him and the two of them had grown up side by side. Both of them didn't have a mother, but they did both have fathers who loved them more than anything else, even though Wayne usually had an easier time showing that than Clyde.

Meredith died on her sixteenth birthday. Before any supernatural presences were let loose in the woods of Hawkins, Meredith Munson drove to her birthday party at the Hideout on a frosty night and got her father's car wrapped around a tree because the brakes weren't functioning the way they should and the tires lost their grip on the icy road.

Understandably, Wayne took the loss of his only child badly. He barely ate, barely slept. He started drinking more than he had ever done before, even more than his brother. According to Eddie's father, this was just what grief looked like, and things would get better with time. But Eddie was worried. Like Wayne, he felt the loss of Meredith like a gaping hole in his chest. But he felt like he had also lost his favorite uncle on the night his cousin died. So he convinced his father to let him move in with Wayne for the time being, to keep an eye on him.

It helped. Eddie's lively presence was a comfort to Wayne, a reason not to drink too much, to clean up after himself, and to keep going to work every night. Meredith's room easily became Eddie's room: the band posters on her walls could've been picked by him just as well, he was just as messy as she used to be, and lying in the bed where she had once slept gave Eddie a weird sense of comfort. He and Wayne soon fell into a rhythm where they knew exactly what to expect from each other. They had an easy companionship and barely ever fought. They could grieve together, but they also managed to make some good new memories together, even though the pain was always there with them.

What should've been a few months, turned into years. Eddie didn't even feel all that bad when he failed to graduate the second time, because he didn't want to think about ever leaving Wayne alone in his trailer again.

---

please i beg you, whatever you do, do NOT think about how wayne must've felt upon finding chrissy's body and hearing eddie was dead a week later

[holdmymallowsweet]

What are you doing here? 02

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC Word count: 4684, properly tagged on AO3

Chapter summary: It's the start of a new school year, and Ominis hopes he and Sebastian can carry on as they used to, even if one of their trio is missing. Looking back, that thought seemed almost foolishly optimistic.

a/n: This is the first of two pre-library chapters, featuring Ominis’ thoughts and feelings and whereabouts during the first few weeks of their fifth year, while Sebastian and Mc are busy fighting trolls and sneaking into the restricted section. Enjoy!

Chapter 01 || Masterlist || Chapter 03

Chapter 02 - Relegated

Calling her arrival at Hogwarts ‘memorable’ was almost an understatement. Disrupting the feast, led through the great hall by the headmaster himself after a rather lively argument behind half-closed doors that had the entire student body sit in nervous anticipation, it was no wonder that she seemed to be the only thing deemed worthy of discussion by anyone who was not a quidditch enthusiast.

Ominis wasn’t too bothered by it. Usually the one who’d know everything that went on within the castle’s walls and not so secretly fond of gossip, after everything that had happened at the Sallow’s during the summer, he longed for some peace and quiet. A sense of routine, while he and Sebastian would try and figure out how to go on, now that one of them was missing.

Who they were, where they’d come from and why they’d made such a spectacle of their entrance didn’t have to be his concern, not tonight at least. They’d ended up at the opposite side of the Great Hall anyways, out of mind. It wouldn’t keep him from having a decent meal, a good night’s rest, a regular day of classes tomorrow. Nothing else would either, if he could help it.

Wishful thinking.

They’d barely passed the giant hourglasses to return to their common room for the night, when Sebastian took him by the arm, years of experience letting Ominis know before he even opened his mouth that he had other plans.

“Listen, Ominis-”

Ominis groaned. “What is it now?” He was so tired.

“I think I’ll make a detour into the restricted section before bed.”

Oh for Merlin’s sake.

“On our first night back? You could at least wait a day before getting yourself into trouble again.” And wasn’t he tired as well, after the day they’d had?

“There’s something I want to check.” Sebastian paused. “For Anne. If you’re worried about me, you could come too, if you’d like.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow. It seemed like an off-handed remark, but there was something pleading in his friend’s voice, and it did make him feel guilty for how he was about to answer. But not guilty enough. “I’m sure you don’t need my help to get yourself another detention.”

“Fair enough.” And just like that, Sebastian was gone.

Ominis took a deep breath. He suddenly felt nauseous, and it had nothing to do with the food.

Was this how his fifth year at Hogwarts was going to be like? Sebastian taking every opportunity to engage in extracurricular, clandestine activities and the detentions that would undoubtedly follow, where did that leave him? He’d hoped with Anne being the way she was, that Sebastian would perhaps be a bit more reasonable, grow up a tad more.

His exploits hadn’t bothered Ominis as much last year, when his friend first started digging through forbidden books and sought out the seclusion of the Undercroft by himself, but last year he had Anne. Anne, who would rather play games with Ominis than put her nose in old, eerie tomes, who would usually take his side in their petty arguments, who would listen to him and fill the silence with cheerful chatter, in a way only she could. In that moment, more than ever before, he was suddenly very aware that she was truly gone. 

It felt as if the realisation ate a hole through his stomach..

Ominis inhaled slowly, rubbing at the crease that formed between his brows. He was so tired.

The two Slytherins had walked up to the castle from Feldcroft, as they did every year. Making the journey to London and spending the whole day on a train had always seemed ridiculous when they lived that close to Hogwarts. 

In the years prior, the three of them would have left the Sallow’s house early and made a day of it in Hogsmeade, but it wouldn’t have been the same without Anne. So they’d spent as much time with her as possible, holding on, attempting to avoid the moment they’d have to leave her behind until the last second. It had been a subdued, gloomy journey after that, not to mention exhausting, both physically and emotionally.

Ominis stood there motionless for a while, trying to collect his thoughts. He was passed by waves of chattering students, eager to return to their warm beds and catch up with their dorm mates in private. Imelda stomped past him, cursing under her breath. Obviously upset about not getting to boss around her team on the Quidditch pitch this year, she would likely try to make it everyone else’s problem as well.

He sighed, resigned to head down to the common  room alone.

“Did you hear? About the new fifth year? Why they were late to the sorting?”

He strained his ears, determined not to miss the answer, slowing down a bit to walk behind the gossiping pair of friends. Change of plans. Perhaps holding on to his old habits would do him some good after all. And perhaps there was a chance for some more light-hearted thoughts to occupy his mind. Something intriguing and perhaps funny to discuss with Sebastian when he got back.

“No, I just heard they were with Professor Fig. Did something happen then?”

“I don’t know any details about it.” The girl paused for dramatic effect. “...but they say their carriage was attacked by a dragon. Some bloke from the ministry was ripped apart right in front of them.”

Oh, you can’t be serious.

“Nothing yet.” Ominis teased. “I hope we get to see- or at least hear one today.”

All in all, his mood had been surprisingly good this morning. Leaning against the common room windows, he’d amused himself trying to keep the new first years on the lookout for mermaids, listening to their little sounds of excitement and impatience, wondering how long he could keep them there before they caught on. 

It had been Anne’s idea last year, and the fun had lasted until the prefects told them to cut it out. Ominis knew it would never be quite the same without her, but she’d insisted he do it again, ‘in her memory’.

He’d tried hard not to think about the implications of that phrasing.

“I- I think I heard one!”

Sounds of little hands slamming against the window and excited, high pitched gasps made the corners of his mouth twitch into a sly grin.

Being back at Hogwarts and getting a good night’s sleep in his familiar bed had done wonders to rid him of the near constant feelings of unease and dread he had since Anne had been cursed.

Ominis missed her dearly, but it was a relief to be away from the now gloomy home in Feldcroft that had once been his sanctuary, from the tension stemming from Solomon’s anxiety and his constant disagreements and shouting matches with a helpless, short tempered Sebastian, periodically disturbed by Anne’s cries and moans of pain. 

In the family’s time of hardship and grief, he’d felt like an intruder.

Ominis would have liked to help, he would have done anything, anything for his closest and only friends, but in the end all he could really do was stand there and listen to the Sallows telling him that another examination had not come up with results, that another remedy they tried had failed. The best he could do was stay out of their way, trying to melt into the wall.

A week before they had to leave for school, the consensus amongst the healers was that nothing could be done except have her rest and wait to see if she got better on her own. They were told she wouldn’t return to Hogwarts. 

Sebastian had not taken it well.

Determined as he’d been to stay awake and wait for his return last night, the exhaustion of the day had caught up with Ominis, and he’d been fast asleep when Sebastian had snuck back into their dormitory. They’d made up for it in the morning, gossiping about her as much as everyone else as they’d gotten dressed. It felt normal, comforting. 

Until, after a particularly wild theory of Ominis’, Sebastian had blurted out “...wait until Anne-”

It had been an innocent mistake. Ominis hadn’t commented on it, but the carefree mood was marred by heavy clouds. But the rain hadn’t fallen, not yet, at least.

Ominis listened for the sounds of his friend, who went through his newly stolen library books in front of the fireplace, pacing back and forth and sometimes mumbling to himself. He seemed to be doing all right, for now, at least.

Even if he was no longer in the mood for conversation.

Sebastian had been picking up bits and pieces of information about the new fifth-year and her journey to Hogwarts on his way to the library, most of it probably exaggerated, some of it seemingly complete and utter nonsense. 

Regardless, most of the Slytherins thought of it as an excellent adventure, a riveting tale that would go down in Hogwarts history. Imelda thought it was brilliant of her to take away all the attention from the first years.

Ominis couldn’t help but feel sorry for the girl. He might have expected her to relish the attention if she’d been a Gryffindor or even a Slytherin, but Hufflepuffs were usually happy to quietly exist in the background and mind their own business. He could relate.

He decided to stop thinking about it. Either way, their paths likely wouldn’t ever cross, unless they’d happen to walk through a classroom door at the same time.

“What do you think mermaids look like?”

Only, the way things progressed, thinking of her or not wasn’t his decision to make.

“What do you mean, you fought a troll?” Ominis asked, distraught. “Are you all right? Is she all right? Did you get hurt?”

“Don’t worry, Ominis, we’re fine,” Sebastian drawled, unbothered.

Sebastian hadn’t wasted any time telling him about his exploits in Hogsmeade with the new fifth-year. They were sitting by the common room fire, eating their way through an assortment of snacks Sebastian had stolen from the kitchens on his way back. Naturally, he’d been rather hungry, having missed dinner. And almost getting smashed to pieces did apparently conjure up quite the appetite.

He’d barely made it back in time for curfew, stumbling into their common room where Ominis, first annoyed, then worried, had been pacing up and down waiting for him.

“She was brilliant, you should have been there.”

Why hadn’t he been?

“Real duelling prodigy, that one,” Sebastian stated through a mouthful of food.

Yes, Ominis had gathered that much from their Defence Against the Dark Arts class earlier that day.

He frowned, his good mood from this morning long gone. He hadn’t talked to his best friend since the end of Hecat’s class, when he told a stunned and confused Ominis that he’d invited the girl who just beat him to Crossed Wands, but the Hogwarts rumour mill had done it’s best to keep him informed about their whereabouts since then.

Sallow and the new fifth-year really hit it off.

Sallow and the new fifth-year were seen going to Hogsmeade together.

Didn’t Sallow have other friends he was usually with?

No one really cared that much.

It didn't exactly feel good. And although Ominis was usually content to leave Sebastian to his own devices, after being deserted for almost the entire day, one might think an apology would be in order. 

Perhaps an inquiry about what he’d been up to- nothing, really, but it would have been polite to ask.

But it was Sebastian, and politeness was not his strong suit.

He listened to Sebastian chewing noisily, feeling his way through the stack of food until his hand landed on an apple tart. More because he wanted to keep his mouth busy than because he was hungry, and also because he’d already gotten his fingers sticky, Ominis took a small bite. If he said something now, it wouldn’t be anything nice and he wasn’t spoiling for a fight. 

“There’s more to all of this. She practically admitted it,” Sebastian said. Dreamily, intrigued.

Understandable, all things considered. Not yet alarming.

“Just wait, I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Ominis didn’t like the sound of that at all.

Sebastian was starting to get obsessive again. Ominis knew him well enough to recognize the signs. Sebastian had been like this when he’d joined Crossed Wands, when he’d started sneaking into the restricted section, when he’d started to teach himself spells- dangerous, forbidden spells, many of which Ominis knew his friend didn’t bother telling him about anymore after he’d first voiced his concerns.

And now there’s the new fifth-year. Sebastian was going to make her his new research project, his new favourite pastime, and while it might have been good for him to have something to distract him from Anne, it made Ominis feel...

He refused to call it jealousy. He’d settle for ‘concerned’.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t.” Ominis tried to keep his tone light, but didn’t quite succeed.

“Why not?”

Ominis sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, only… I’m having a bad feeling about this.”

They were silent for a moment. Then, Ominis heard a stifled chuckle from his friend.

“When you say a bad feeling, you mean like an-“

 “Sebastian, don’t-“

“Like an ominous feeling?”

Ominis half-heartedly threw his leftover tart at him.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been that bad if he felt like he could ever get a break from her, but she seemed to be everywhere. Except of course when she seemed to be nowhere at all, sneaking out of school at odd hours, coming back hours later carrying the faint scent of the forbidden forest, or the lake, but even then, she was always… there. In the whispers in the hallways, in rumours, slipping into every conversation he’d have with Sebastian, at some point.

In their first Herbology lesson, it was her mandrake that shattered the greenhouse windows and almost took out his eardrums, turning an already debilitating class into a headache.

While he struggled in potions, she somehow excelled at the subject and even found time to steal from Sharp's office.

Ominis had groaned internally at the whole spectacle. If Garreth Weasley could put her up to theft not five minutes after making her acquaintance, he’d rather not think about what sort of mischief she got up to with Sebastian.

Like sneaking into the restricted section of the library. The tale of Sebastian Sallow taking the fall for her spread through the school like wildfire. When Ominis had asked him why he did it, Sebastian had simply stated: “Because that’s what I do for my friends. I’ve taken the fall for you before, anytime we’ve done something bad enough that I thought it might get back to your parents.”

Ominis hadn’t known what to answer. She’d been at school not even a week, and yet she already enjoyed the same friendship privileges as himself, in Sebastian's eyes. It felt as if he’d been punched. He knew his feelings were stupid and childish, it had been absurd to assume that Sebastian would never want or need any other friends. But still, Ominis couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t enough. 

He wanted, needed to let these feelings out somehow, and at first he considered putting them into his letters to Anne- but Anne had enough to deal with, sitting in that dreary house in agony with no one but her uncle for company. 

Ominis thought of her every day, everytime her empty chair in their classrooms reminded him of her absence, every time he heard someone talk about flying, or taking a sneaky dip in the lake before it got too cold. All things Anne used to love, that she wouldn’t do again, perhaps not ever.

If she tried to fly a broom and was struck with a bout of pain while mid air, she’d die.

No, he wasn’t going to bother Anne with his troubles. If she needed to know that her brother was positively smitten with the new student, Sebastian could tell her himself.

As the week went on, thankfully without further incidents, Ominis became more accustomed to her presence. She was, to his surprise, a fairly decent student, learning new spells on the first or second try and performing well in class, even when the teachers put her on the spot. How she managed that, when she seemed to prioritise gallivanting through the highlands over studying, was a mystery. She was polite, outgoing and cheerful, quickly making friends and wrapping her classmates around her finger with an effortless charm not unlike Sebastian’s.

The more time passed, the less Ominis could bring himself to share the enthusiasm.

Of course he’d been somewhat curious about her too, at least at first. 

He’d even made small, tentative attempts at approaching her. Perhaps making sarcastic remarks about her duel with Sebastian and their adventures in Hogsmeade had not been the best way to do it, but her complete and utter indifference, to the point of not even replying to him, left him dumbstruck. She could have at least quipped back.

And it stung- the realisation that she didn’t recognise him. 

Which meant Sebastian hadn’t mentioned him to her, at all.

He started to seek out the solitude of the Undercroft more often, lately the only place where he felt truly free from her presence, even if every empty crate in there seemed to taunt him with memories of himself and the Sallow twins, of nights they’d spent sneaking out of the common room to laugh and play games and eat stolen food from the kitchens. 

Simpler times that he’d never thought he’d one day miss so desperately that his very soul seemed to ache.

He knew he’d be there alone now, like all the other times, though he secretly wished he’d walk in there to find Sebastian waiting for him. Ready to carry on as they used to, even if there was someone missing. At least it would be a small comfort, for both of them.

Hearing the familiar mechanical whirring of the Undercroft’s hidden entrance made him pause, and for the briefest moment it seemed he’d gotten his wish.

“Hello Sebastian.”

No. Wrong.

“Wait.”

It wasn’t Sebastian. In an instant, he tensed up, his stomach filled with dread. Someone found the Undercroft, someone he didn’t recognise, someone who wasn’t supposed to be there. If they left without saying anything, he would never find out who they were.

“You there. I can hear you.”

Say something, anything.

“Oh, hello. Ominis, isn’t it? I believe we have Potions together. And- Herbology?”

His insides turned to ice in an instant, as he realised what was going on here.

It was her.

Of course it was her.

She tried her best to sound cheerful, but there was definitely a nervous undertone in her voice. And while it wasn’t his most pressing concern, the fact that even now she didn’t seem to remember him from any of their classes, other than those he was obviously rubbish in, did nothing to endear herself to him.

“I recognise that voice.” He said, more to himself than to her. “You’re the new fifth-year.”

He tried his best to sound calm, failing miserably as his frozen insides melted into white, hot anger.

“Did you just come from the Undercroft? How did you get in there?”

He already knew. He wasn’t asking because he needed the answer, he wanted to know if she was going to be honest about it.

“That room’s called ‘the Undercroft’? Ah. Well, I was exploring and suddenly found myself in a strange passageway-“

Liar.

He had enough of her. Of both of them.

“Don’t lie to me. No one ‘stumbles’ upon that room. Sebastian told you, didn’t he? You breathe a word about this place to anyone and not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to help you. My father is friends with the Headmaster. I’m not afraid to exploit that connection if I need to.”

It was an empty threat, of course. He hadn’t spoken to his father in ages, and he wasn’t keen on being in the vile man’s debt, especially over something like this. But there was a good chance she didn’t know and if she asked around, all she would find out was that his father was indeed friends with Professor Black, and perhaps that would frighten her enough to keep her mouth shut.

“You needn’t threaten me. I’m not going to say anything about your Undercroft.” The Hufflepuff’s voice sounded more assured than before. If she was at all intimidated by him, she didn’t show it. “And Sebastian is a good friend. You shouldn’t immediately assume the worst of him.”

“I don’t need you to tell me about my oldest friend, thank you very much.” His patience was at a breaking point, and it finally seemed to dawn on her that there was no way to salvage this conversation.

“Ominis, I just meant-“

“I know what you meant. Sebastian gets himself in enough trouble. He doesn’t need your help.”

At least she had enough sense not to respond. He walked past her, giving her a much wider berth than necessary. The thought of accidentally touching her, even briefly, made him sick.

It wasn’t entirely fair to her, and a small part inside of him knew that, but at that moment, it felt as if she’d taken everything from him. His best and oldest friend, his sanctuary, his very thoughts and feelings, everything seemed to revolve around her and Ominis just wanted it to end.

Fuming, he stormed into the Undercroft. Sebastian was still there, as expected, cheerful and completely oblivious. “Hello Ominis, I-“

“You.”

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.

“Yes? What did I do now?”

“Are you seriously pretending not to know?” Ominis snarled, anger dripping from every word like poison.

Sebastian went dead silent for a moment.

“Ominis, let me explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain. I trusted you.”

“And I trust her, I wouldn’t have taken her here if I didn’t. You know me. I promise you she won’t tell anyone else, I won’t either,” Sebastian pleaded.

“I suppose that includes me,” Ominis spat. “Would you have told me she was here if I hadn’t found out by myself?”

“I knew you wouldn’t take it well. It was wrong not to ask you before I showed her-”

Ominis snorted.

“-but I know she will keep it to herself. I can’t tell you why, not yet, but I know she’ll keep my secrets. Trust me.”

“But it’s not your secret, is it? It’s mine.” Ominis couldn’t make sense of the feelings welling up inside him anymore. He felt angry, betrayed, but most of all, hurt, and it all seemed to merge together to form a dull, throbbing ache in his head.

Yes, it was his secret. His special place, one of the few good things that came out of being a Gaunt. For him to share with the ones he loved and trusted. And even if Sebastian was right, even if she could be trusted- and he was not at all convinced that she could- it should have been his decision. 

If Sebastian had bothered to actually introduce them to each other, to include Ominis in whatever the two of them were up to, if they had gotten to know each other, on his own terms and in his own time, perhaps he might have told her himself.

But it wasn’t only the betrayal. If only he could find the right words to tell Sebastian just how abandoned he felt, tossed aside for a newer, shinier toy.

He wasn’t enough. He’d never been, for anyone. Too weak, too useless, too defective.

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. What if he said it, and Sebastian couldn’t pretend it wasn’t true?

Tears were threatening to spill out of his useless eyes, and he squeezed them shut, furiously pinching the bridge of his nose, desperately willing them to stay inside.

“Ominis?” Sebastian said, cautiously approaching him.

Ominis took a deep breath, fighting down the tears, at least for now. He leaned against one of the stone pillars.

“Anything else?” He hated how choked his voice sounded.

“What do you mean?”

“Is there anything else you told her, that I should know about? Be honest.” Ominis hoped the answer was ‘no’. And for that to be the truth.

Sebastian took a moment to answer. When he did, he spoke slowly and carefully, as if he was scared the wrong words would make Ominis’ temper flare up again. “Nothing that you’d disapprove of, I think. We talked a bit about Anne, and… you.”

Ominis raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“I told her you’re blind and that you use your wand to get around.”

“Why, thank you. I’m sure that would have eluded her otherwise.” Ominis remarked dryly, undoubtedly getting an eye roll in return.

“I told her the Undercroft is special to you-” Sebastian went on, ignoring Ominis derisive snort.

“-and a bit about your family.”

That hit Ominis like a Graphorn, making him tense up with a sudden, poorly concealed panic. “You didn’t-”

“No, of course not. Nothing she wouldn’t have found out eventually anyway.”

The crease between his brows and the harsh line of his lips formed involuntarily as a familiar darkness crept into his mind. His thoughts must have been obvious to his long-time friend.

“I’d never tell her about anything you’d want to keep a secret,” Sebastian said.

“I wanted to keep the Undercroft a secret.”

Sebastian groaned. 

It filled Ominis with a sick sort of satisfaction. “What did you tell her then?”

“...just, well. That you’re descended from Slytherin himself, that the Gaunts care a lot about blood status. But I let her know you’re not like them.”

So she knew. Perhaps that was why she’d seemed so flustered when talking to him.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing much. I’m not sure how much she knows about these things to be honest, I mean, she’s a Hufflepuff. And I didn’t bring her down here to give her a lesson on pureblood culture,” Sebastian said, unconcerned.

“Then there was no need to tell her anything. If she didn’t know, you could have left it at that,” Ominis said, irritated.

“It’s not exactly a secret, Ominis. Everyone else knows and you’re classmates, she would have found out eventually. Wouldn’t you rather she heard it from me?”

“I’d rather she heard it from me, actually.”

Sebastian huffed, obviously amused even if he didn’t dare to laugh.

“You just said there was no need to tell her anything.”

“I… fine. Just do me a favour and keep me and my family’s secrets out of your future conversations.” Ominis said dejectedly, as the fight went out of him. He hoped this would be the end of their argument. His head was still hurting from all the shouting and he just wanted to go back to their dormitory and take a nap, forget about her and all of this for a blissful few hours.

“All right. But now that she knows about the Undercroft, is she allowed back in here? It is a good place for spellcasting and there’s more I’d like to-“

“Sebastian, please.” Ominis’ voice was little more than a whisper. He pinched the bridge of his nose again in frustration.

“Please, I know you find her intriguing, that you’re using her to distract yourself from how much you miss Anne-“

“I’m not using her, we’re friends.” Sebastian’s voice dropped, he genuinely sounded hurt.

“You know what I mean. We’re friends, Sebastian, the two of us and Anne. All I want is for things to go back to how they were before, and so do you.” It was a last effort, a genuine plea for Sebastian to let her be, before their friendship went up in flames.

“That’s not-” Sebastian broke off mid-sentence and took a deep breath. “You don’t understand.”

“No, I do not.” Ominis admitted.

He wouldn’t for a while.

more a/n: But he will in the next chapter! …maybe. So this turned out quite a bit more angsty than intended, but I think Ominis’ anger at Mc when he finds out she’s been in the undercroft is very genuine and doesn’t just come out of nowhere, so I’ve spent a lot (and probably way too much) time thinking about how he must have felt about Sebastian and Mc’s friendship. Also I did settle on Anne having been cursed right at the start of the summer holidays. Because I’m pure evil and I like the thought of Ominis coming to Hogwarts like “at least I still have Sebastian…” only to have him snatched away by Mc. …sorry. Originally this and the third were one chapter, but the length of it got slightly out of hand and I’ve had the perfect spot to split it exactly in the middle (more or less, they’re 4k+ words each now). I hope to get the next one out a bit sooner, so you won’t have to wait that long.  I hope to see you all next time! And thanks again for every one of your sweet comments and your support, it means the world to me ❤️ And finally, as usual, this fic has no beta (unfortunately) but I do my best to make sure it’s free of spelling errors. If you find any anyway, or you notice me using words wrong, let me know (nicely) so I can fix it.

[fluffysucker]

8. Deep Blue, but you painted me golden

Bucky Barnes x Reader (AU)

Tw: Mentions of miscarriage.

A/N: Written in Third POV. No use of Y/N. However, the reader is referred to as a female.

I can't believe this is the last chapter. Thank you so much for reading. It means the world to me.

Epilogue coming right away.

Likes, comments, reblogs are VERY VERY highly appreciated. Opinions really matter to me

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

The day at Coney Island felt like a fever dream. It was too amazing to be real.

After finishing breakfast, Bucky told you to get ready, and he would help the kids get ready. Choosing to stay casual, all of you were out and in Bucky's car in a short time.

The car ride was filled with Lily and Theo's voices expressing their excitement about the day and all they wanted to do. It was barely afternoon, and your smile was already so big. Once Bucky parked the car and you helped the kids out, they ran off ahead of you, ready to start the day.

And it was wonderful. Between the kids getting in the children's rides while you and Bucky took pictures like any parents, going on rides as a family, and eating so much food, you never had more fun. Your favourite part,however, was a moment you didn't expect. You split up, Bucky took Theo to try a game he really wanted to, and you and Lily went to pick up some food for all of you. As you were talking to Lily, you heard your son's excited squeals.

"Mommy, look what Daddy won." While Theo was running towards you, Bucky was trailing behind with two teddy bears in hand. One is bigger than the other. Bucky kneeled to get to Lily's height. He gave her the pink teddy bear with a smile for his favourite girl and got so many kisses and hugs in return. Then he got back to his feet and gave you the bigger white teddy bear, which you happily took from him happily.You tried so hard to listen to your boy as he told you how strong his father is and how he won over all the people standing at the game, but you couldn't. All you could think about was one thing. He remembered.

In your first few months of dating, Bucky took you to a carnival that had opened recently. It was such a fun date. However, Bucky established an important rule for your relationship. Whenever you were out at a carnival, an amusement park, or any other place possible, Bucky was going to win a teddy bear for you. And he did. You have a big box filled with teddy bears labelled Buckies with a Heart. According to him, all these teddy bears are going to keep you warm and safe, just like he is.

So when you looked at him, you wanted to see if he gave you the fluffy animal as a coincidence or if he really remembered. And you saw it. He did it out of tradition. Out of a promise he made over 11 years ago. You collected yourself. This day was about the kids, yet he somehow managed to steal your heart again.

You thought that after spending the day running and playing around, the kids would be tired, but they weren't. So Bucky drove the four of you to your favourite ice cream place. You sat in a booth near the window. You and Bucky were facing each other with a kid on each side. You ate ice cream while the kids talked about their week, and Bucky would also share how his week was. You were almost sure you were going to get kicked out because you were talking and laughing too loud. Which is why, before you left, Bucky left a very generous tip.

On your way back home, the kids' energy finally wore out, with both falling asleep almost immediately in the backseat, leaving you and Bucky talking in hushed voices. You've reached your house. You got out to carry one of them out, but Bucky beat you and carried both of them as if they weighted like feathers. You opened the door, and both of you went upstairs to the kids' room and changed them into their pyjamas, then kissed them good night.

Watching Bucky leave after a beautiful family day was hard. You wanted him to stay. You would go to bed together, talk about your favourite moments of the day, and hold each other. But you knew this was the right call. Two days of pure bliss aren't enough to make up for everything.

And without the two of you noticing, it became a routine.

The first day of the weekend would be a family day. You would spend the day together. The next day would be Bucky's day. They usually spent the day at Bucky's place, having a lazy day, worn out from yesterday's activities. Because your family day always consisted of fun activities to do together. A day at the park A Picnic. An aqurimium. Cinema. Always so much fun.

Your favourite was the beach day. Bucky planned the day ahead with you. Summer was approaching, so it was the perfect time. Watching the kids play with Bucky on the sand and swim in the clear water under the bright sun was a heartwarming sight. It was a breath of fresh air. That day, you took a picture of the four of you together, which ended up being your phone's lockscreen. Then Bucky took a picture of the three of you—you  and kids—which ended up being his phone's lockscreen.

You started to feel like family again. In every sense, the word meant And not just because of the fun days you spent together, but because, in the face of hardships, you were a family. Like the time Lily had food poisoning, spent the night throwing up, and had a very bad fever. You called Bucky at 2 AM with tears and a shaky voice, telling him that Lily would almost pass out of the pain and you didn't know what to do anymore. By an unknown power, Bucky showed up at your doorstep less than ten minutes later in his pyjamas. You rushed to the emergency room with Lily in Bucky's arms, and you stayed in the waiting room with Theo, trying to ease your panic and not traumatise your boy. You couldn't leave him alone in the house, so you kept him seated on your lap, wrapped up in your arms, assuring him that his sister would be okay. A huge relief filled you when Bucky walked out and told you that Lily was better now. You had to stay the night at the hospital. But you had your family's support, and, most importantly, Bucky's support.

That night, Bucky took in his surroundings. It's 5 in the morning. His baby girl was sleeping peacefully on a hospital bed, the colours returning to her face. He was holding his son's sleeping figure securely in his lap. And you rested your head on his shoulder, finally feeling the stress die down. All of you were still in your sleepwear. Despite the panic the night had caused him, this was exactly where he belonged. Taking care of his family. Making sure they are safe. Looking after three of them. This is what he is supposed to do for the rest of his life. And just like that, all the remaining doubts evaporated; his demons left him. Nothing can make him leave this. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a silent promise that he would always be here. He would live his life by your side.

Despite your heart being full at the return of your family, you and Bucky were still a work in progress.

You and Bucky managed to steal time for just the two of you. Secret dates nobody knew about. You were still mainly using Sam for babysitter duties, but whenever he wasn't available, you would have to lie to your friends about where you were going or why you were so smiley.

Bucky managed to have a date at least once a week. It was always something you loved. Restaurants, Café shops, bookstores, and places that you enjoyed Sometimes, Bucky would bring back the act of you not knowing each other before. You always had more fun during these times. It felt like re-exploring your relationship.

Along with dates, there were the bouquets of flowers at your doorsteps every weekend, the lunch packed on your desk with the sweetest note every now and then, the small gifts you would find around the house, and the dreamy texts you would receive out of nowhere. Bucky was making it extremely hard not to get back, but you knew you needed your time. You needed to be sure he wouldn't just get bored.

That is why you avoided physical contact as much as you could. Bucky was indeed a very charming man, but his main love language was always physical touch. And of all the people, you were the one to know this the most. You had fallen under his magic far too many times. You knew the minute you felt his touch, you would give in immediately. Because his touch was captivating. It never hurts you. It always made you feel loved, safe, secured, wanted, and taken care of. You never understood how Bucky was able to express so much through his touch, but it was always so loud. So you kept physical contact to a minimum.

One time, you broke your own hidden rule. The kids were spending the night at their aunt Nat's house. So, you weren't surprised when Bucky showed up with takeout and your favourite snakes, ready for a movie night. It was supposed to be a normal movie night. You didn't know how you ended up on the roof. Each of you is wrapped in a comfortable blanket, watching the stars and moons in the sky. Stargazing was one of Bucky's favourite activities. You loved listening to him talk about the different stars. It was soothing. You didn't know how the conversation went from stars' names to serious topics. Deep questions flew around between the both of you.

Without giving it much thought, you asked Bucky if he could make a wish and know it would be granted. What would he wish for? His answer wasn't something you could have ever expected.

"I would wish that I would have been there for you when you lost the baby."

You didn't know how to feel. Your miscarriage was something you never talked about. Up until now, no one knew. You felt no need to tell them anyway. You moved on, supposedly. You saw in Bucky's eyes many questions, begging you to tell him everything. You had to be open and vulnerable. You knew this was necessary if you wanted to carry on again. Together. So you did. You told him everything.

When you found out, how did you feel, keeping it a secret, losing it, going to the hospital, getting back home, having the kids, everything. You never said this stuff out loud. They were kept hidden in the back of your mind, like it was someone else's story, not yours. But it was yours. It happened to you. You openly told Bucky that the worst part was the empty house. It left you with just yourself and the pain, both physical and emotional.

Bucky couldn't help it. He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you and letting you rest your head on his chest. He noticed the way you avoided his touch, and he understood. But this time he couldn't. It was too unbearable. The need to comfort you was overpowering. Hearing the full story was painful, but he wanted to. He had to. He wanted to know what it was like to go through such a thing alone. He wanted to do the thing he should have. Hold you.

You felt overwhelmed. Different emotions were hitting you. But the feeling of being surrounded by Bucky was the strongest. Deep apologies filled your ears. And you knew he meant it. However, you could only focus on him. This was why you avoided his touch. Because, exactly as you expected, him holding you was the only way for you to heal.

As the night carried on, it got too late without notice. You offered the guest room for Bucky to stay in tonight. A part of you didn't want to be alone tonight. You wouldn't invite Bucky back to your bedroom. You just wanted to know he was there. And he understood. Despite the sad topic that you approached, both of you went to bed with a smile on your faces. Something tells you that you were a lot closer to peace.

After that night, it got very hard for you to hide what was going on from your friends. Suspicion grew between your group. And you neither confirmed nor denied anything. Which was all the confirmation they needed. They respected your choice to not share until you wanted to. However, they didn't stop teasing both of you. Sharon and Natasha were having a field day with it. But they have already coordinated the threats and promises of torture to warn Bucky once you make it official again. They already regretted not doing it the first time. So this time, they would make sure Bucky wouldn't have to face your two very protective bestfriends.

You would always get teasing texts from all of them whenever they were on babysitter duty. Even if they were the ones to ask to have the kids. They would always make comments about the blossoming romance between you.

However, you never expected to receive this text. In the middle of the day, from Steve

"Why do I have a feeling that the fact that Bucky was unbelievably disgusted by this beautiful woman's, who was very much his type, flirting and turned her down so fast, has something to do with you?"

"And why has he been going on for almost half an hour now about how it is rude and disrespectful to hit on a taken man?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about, Rogers."

"I thought so, too."

"Heads up, He is calling your babysitter to come for the night."

Right after Steve's text, you got a text from Bucky that got you smiling.

"Hey,doll ♡♡ What do you think about coming over tonight to my place? I already called the babysitter."

Bucky was so offended by the flirting comments, and you weren't even back together. In his mind, he was only yours.

As you were approaching Bucky's place, an uneasy feeling started to go through you. You spent tonnes of time alone, both of you. However, you had never been to his place after that day. So was it a good idea to spend time there? You removed these thoughts quickly and knocked on the door. Bucky opened up with a smile that flattered your heart. He let you inside. The delicious smell instantly filled your nostrils. He told you dinner was almost ready. So you joined him in the kitchen, where you put the dessert you brought on the counter and helped as much as you could. It was peaceful. You and Bucky were cooking and eating, genuinely enjoying each other's company. After dinner, you moved to the living room, where you both sat on the couch, still talking. Unknowingly, you and Bucky found yourselves in a very serious and open conversation. A conversation about what really happened between the two of you. After so many dates, it was the right time. It was another important conversation that you had to have. Bucky poured his heart out to you, and you welcomed it. Everything that clouded his judgement Everything he thought he couldn't share. You understood why he would hesitate to say this, but you were his wife and his safe place. It was a long conversation. You shared your sides and talked about the miscommunication that happened. It felt like removing all the dirt so you could build again.

You turned to Bucky as you were about to leave after convincing Bucky that an Uber would do okay as long as you shared your location and texted him once you were home. You needed to tell him that.

"Just to make something clear for the future. There are millions of men in the world. Only you have my whole heart. Only you are perfect for me. Only you, I would choose every time."

It took every bit of power and self-control. Bucky had, so he wouldn't kiss you. Wouldn't hold you and never let you. Not to bring you in and worship you all his life. But he would wait. Bucky wasn't a patient man. However, he would wait all his life for you.

But today, Bucky's patience was being tested beyond what he could handle. It was supposed to be a normal day at work. He didn't think much of the meeting with a new business partner who was Steve's friend. He was thinking about your family day tomorrow and the time he was going to spend with you. But his thoughts came to an abrupt stop as he saw that man walking into his office. His biggest enemy That god of a man Thor Odinson.

You didn't mention Thor again that often, as it really meant only work for you. However, Bucky could never forget him, even if he wanted to. His hands around you weren't something Bucky could forgive. Which is why he knew this deal wasn't going to ever happen. Steve and Sam kept looking at Bucky, confused and questioningly, as they watched Bucky be extra rude and strict to the other man. It got to the point where Steve had to hit Bucky's leg under the table, but Bucky didn't care. He despised the man in front of him for obvious reasons.

It all stopped when Thor excused himself to answer his wife. Before Steve or Sam could open their mouths to scold Bucky, he turned to Steve quickly, asking if he knew Thor's wife. Steve told him that Thor had been happily married for over six years now. Steve was offended on behalf of his friend when Bucky asked if Thor was the kind of guy to cheat. Before Bucky could know more, Thor returned and apologised. "Sorry, but I always answer my wife. I don't let my wife's calls go to voicemail." And just like that, Thor became someone Bucky could tolerate. The meeting went well after that. Bucky was more focused and open to the deal.

Everything made sense for Steve and Sam as Thor was leaving, and he mentioned your name. "And please, send my regards to her. It was a pleasure working with her. I'm sure working with her life partner would be just the same." Thor was a smart man. He knew Bucky was more than just your kids' father. And Bucky liked that. He was indeed your life partner.

Planning dates was more Bucky's thing. Unless there was somewhere you wanted to go or something you wanted to do, Bucky was usually the one to make the plans. So he couldn't say he wasn't surprised when he got a text from you with a location, asking him to meet you there and to dress nice. Bucky also couldn't say his heart didn't flatter at the thought of you being comfortable putting in efforts again with him. For him.

And he listened to you. He cleaned up nicely. And went to the place you chose. He tried to keep his heart from bursting when he saw the place. It was your bar. The classic bar that held so many memories Your first anniversary, your first date as an engaged couple, and your first date as a married couple. A special place. Bucky didn't bring you to the bar the past few months because he didn't want to overwhelm you or make you rush your decision. But he couldn't help but have hope for tonight.

He didn't wait long before you were there. Bucky always wondered if there was ever going to be a time when you didn't take his breath away. He knew the answer was no. Bucky would always be enchanted by you. You walked to him, wearing his favourite dress that he always loved, then joined him at the table he picked. Right when he thought he could recover from your beauty, his eyes caught sight of something that left him breathless. You were wearing your wedding rings. Bucky could swear he almost shed a tear or two. He didn't want to read too much into the situation, but his heart was doing little dances, making him more hopeful for tonight.

You still find it fascinating that after so many years, conversations never died down between you and Bucky. There was always something for you to talk about. To laugh about. And you wanted it to be like this always. You never wanted silence to take place between the two of you again. And you had a feeling it wasn't.

Bucky's smile was too big when you asked if he wanted to dance. He stood up, offering you his hand, which you took gladly. The bar had a small area in the middle for dancing, which was now only occupied by you and Bucky. The soft music was playing, his arm around your waist, yours around his neck, your fingers intertwined together, and you were swaying to the music. Bucky could swear this was heaven. You were his heaven.

And if his heart could take more. Your song started playing. And Bucky looked at you as if you hung the stars and the moon. His eyes were showing all his love for you. And you took this as your sign. That what you were doing was right. What you planned to do was the right decision.

The night was magical. A night of your dreams. Bucky dropped you off. And got out of the car to open your door. But you still had one thing to do. You moved a little as if you were getting inside, but then you turned to Bucky, who was still waiting by the car, making sure you got inside safely.

"Do you think if we go to the same lawyers, they will give us a discount on the marriage this time?"

Bucky could swear his heart jumped from his chest. His lungs were working overtime to keep him breathing.

"I don't know. But I will pay everything I have, if that is what it takes."

You were standing in front of him, wrapping your hands around his neck. His arms came around your waist instinctively.

"So you want to get married again?"

"Never wanted anything more in my life."

Bucky couldn't resist anymore. He leaned forward, capturing your lips with his. Like pieces of a puzzle put together, a cold breeze of air after a blazing day, rain after drought, home after exile—everything felt alright.

The kiss was gentle, soft, and sweet. Both of you are pouring all your emotions into it. No pain. No confusion. No regret. Only true love.

You broke the kiss, maintaining eye contact. You said it all with your eyes. And Bucky understood. You stood on your tiptoes to bury your face in his neck, needing to feel him once again. Bucky tightened his arm around you. At that moment, Bucky felt like he owned the world.

By a miracle, you loved him so much that you forgave him and let him have you again. And he would never waste your trust or love again. He would never hurt you again. He is going to live all his life doing one thing. Loving you

Taglist: @lethallyprotected @almosttoopizza @ragingrainbowshipl @dexter99 @xdarkcreaturex @nash-dara @paarthurnax59 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @unaxv @missmielyhoran @wintermischief @kandis-mom @aboobie @ozwriterchick @pattiemac1 @noahspickettfence @a--1--1--3 @elsie-bells

[mysticwolfshadows]

Taken - Zutara - Part 100

First / Previous / Next / Masterpost

Despite his panic at discovering his sister was missing, Zuko had kept his word about taking Katara to Ember Island for a vacation. He put all his anxiety into preparing his temporary leave. Since he would still be in the Fire Nation, he could leave the council to keep things running. Well, Minister Su Lee and General Wan. Minister Chang would probably try to sneak a tax increase in.

He gave Suki the week he and Katara would be on Ember Island off, so she could go and visit Sokka. If Katara was right, now that they were both 16, Sokka would propose soon, even if it would be two more years before they could officially marry, as Kyoshi Island and the Earth Kingdom required them to both to be 18 before it became legal. Of all the nations, it was the highest age requirement, with the Fire Nation being 17, and the Water Tribe being 16.

As he and Katara stood on the dock and watched Suki waving at them from the deck of the Wani as it headed for the South Pole, Zuko thought about proposing.

He knew, from his vision in the Foggy Swamp, that Katara would one day become Fire Lady. And he wanted that so desperately. To have Katara at his side, always, making the Fire Nation - the world - a better place, together. He trusted that the vision was real, that she would one day wear the Fire Lady's crown. Only...

The crown had gone missing, when his mother had. His grandmother had given it to his mother on her death bed. Something about trusting his mother to fill the role, even if she wouldn't be able to have the title, when Uncle became Fire Lord. Only, Uncle hadn't become Fire Lord, and then his mother had gone missing, taking the crown with her.

If he wanted his vision to come to pass, did he need to find his mother? The thought made his chest ache.

"Hey," a gentle voice asked, squeezing his arm. He turned to find Katara looking at him in concern. "Everything alright?"

His pain eased, as he gave her a small smile. "Yeah. I'm fine. Here, let me carry your bag."

She gave only minimal protest, but let him take her small rucksack. They headed to the old house, Katara talking excitedly about all the things they wanted to do. They could go to the beach and swim with how nice the weather in the Fire Nation was, even in the winter. And she wanted to go sight seeing, even hiking, since they didn't have much time for that when they had been staying on the island before the invasion. If the Ember Island Players were putting something on, they'd have to see it, according to Katara, despite Zuko's complaints.

Zuko couldn't really deny her when she got this excited. Or ever, really.

They explored the town the first day of their stay, which was quieter than normal thanks to it being the off season, even if there were still plenty of visitors. Katara grinned at him when she found a flier for a production of Love Amongst the Dragons that the Ember Island Players would be putting on the last day of their trip. Zuko groaned, but Katara only beamed at him.

They went hiking that evening, walking the scenic trails by the light of the local torches, looking for a spot to have a picnic dinner. When Katara pulled him off the trail, they walked in the glow of a flame he held in his palm, until they found a little clearing near a cliff. They had a perfect view of the ocean, the dark water ripping to reflect the dark new moon night sky, the stars seeming even brighter. They ate huddled together, until Katara had set aside her plate and waited for Zuko's full attention. He had barely set his own plate aside before she was kissing him, a flick of her wrist tossing water from their canteen onto the torch Zuko had lit for them.

There was a lot more of that, Zuko quickly realized, during their vacation. They were free of their responsibilities, at least for now, and even though they were still in the Fire Nation, the people of Ember Island weren't familiar enough with him to recognize him on sight like most of Caldera. This meant that Katara felt free enough to just start kissing him, whether it was while they were alone relaxing at the house, or pulling him out of sight in town. And each time left him breathless.

They did, in fact, go to the beach, on their last full day on Ember Island. The day was abnormally warm and clear, for a Fire Nation winter, so they took advantage of the sun. Katara insisted that they visit one of the public beaches, instead of the private one that connected to the house.

Turns out, Katara wasn't the only one that thought to take advantage of the usually warm weather. The beach was packed, filled with mostly teens. Which irked Zuko, as plenty of guys were eyeing Katara with far more interest than they should, while they were setting up a blanket to sit on and a beach umbrella for getting out of the sun. As Katara was admiring their handy work, one guy even deigned to approach and ask Katara if she wanted to play volleyball with him and his friends.

"Sure," Katara said, and had immediately turned to Zuko with a grin. "Be my buddy?"

"Always," Zuko said, cracking his knuckles.

The guy, Chen or something, backed up a bit, but didn't tell Katara no. They took one side of the net, the guy and his friend on the other side. Chen severed, clearly going easy on them. Zuko, seeing the way Katara's knees bent, quickly stepped up to set the ball. The sound of the ball slamming into the ground between the two guys leering at Katara when she spiked it down was very satisfying. Especially with the way the guys flinch.

Katara laughed and Zuko grinned. The game continued on like that for a while longer, until the two guys conceded, and had gotten used to Katara's strong arm. Katara was kind and polite, joking as she excused herself to go to the restroom. Zuko stood awkwardly with the two other guys for a moment.

"Sooo," Chen's friend started. "You guys from around here?"

"No."

"Visiting from somewhere?"

"Yes."

There was a pause, before Chen tried. "She your girlfriend?"

Zuko narrowed his eyes. "Yes."

"You don't talk much, do you?"

He grunted.

For a second there was silence, before a shout drew their attention. Katara had returned, pointing out towards the water, where there were a few people were riding a large wave rolling in.

"You guys surf?" Katara asked, her eyes sparkling with interest. "Have any extra boards I can try?"

Chen glanced at Zuko, then nodded. "Yeah. Interested in learning?"

This time, Katara snorted. "No offense, but I'm pretty sure that I can surf better than you. I meant your boards. They're shaped a little differently than what I used back home."

Zuko stared, and couldn't stop his mouth from moving. "You surf? In the South Pole?"

That got Chen's attention. "South Pole?" he asked, turning to Katara. "You're Water Tribe?"

She gave Zuko a look, but let it go and nodded. "Yeah. Before the war, surfing was a popular pass time for waterbender's. The last water Avatar, Kuruk, brought it from the Northern Tribe when he moved to the South to get married. But with the raids-" She paused, glancing at Zuko. "Well, it's not exactly safe to surf in the South Pole without a waterbender acting as a life guard, so I didn't really learn until after the Northerners migrated down."

"Whoa," Chen breathed, then nudged Zuko. "Dude... How'd you score her?"

Zuko blinked, confused. Chen had been trying to flirt with his girlfriend, and now looked at Zuko like he was some kind of hero. And while he technically was a war-hero, Chen didn't know that. He looked at Katara for help, only to see her mischievous grin.

"Katara," Zuko warned, which only made Chen's eyes go wider.

"Zuko and I fought in the war together," Katara said. "Alongside the Avatar."

"Katara," he groaned, as the two civilians stared at them. "We're supposed to be on vacation."

"You're the Fire Lord," Chen's friend gaped.

"You tell no one," Zuko said, trying to put as much authority into his voice as he could. "No one needs to know that we're here."

Chen nodded with wide eyes. "Will you guys come to my party tonight?"

Zuko jerked, surprised. "What?"

"Sorry," Katara said, wrapping on arm around Zuko's and smiling. "We're going to the theater tonight. Love Amongst the Dragons. It's our favorite. Actually, we should probably go and get cleaned up for that."

She pulled him away, as his face scrunched in distaste at the mention of their plans to see the Ember Island Players.

Which, they did in fact go to. After getting cleaned up, they dressed modestly, and got to the theater early, so they could sneak into the box seat Zuko rented before anyone arrived.

The Ember Island Players hadn't improved since the last time Zuko had seen them and the play was just as butchered as before. He hated it. Katara, on the other hand, seemed to love every second of it, leaning up against Zuko's side. Her smile made it all worth it.

As they left that night, Katara listened to his complaints, and seemed to enjoy his whining just as much as she had enjoyed the show itself.

"And don't even get me started on the Dragon Empress," Zuko sighed. "She was so... so... boring. Nothing like the original!"

Katara hummed this time, nodding along. "I would have liked to have seen Ursa's take on it."

Zuko stopped in his tracks. "What?"

Pausing, Katara turned to look at him. "Your... Your mom. Sorry, are you... Do you not want to talk about her?"

"That's not-" His throat going tight, he flexed his hand. "What do you mean 'her take'?"

"She was... She was an actress, in a theater troupe, before she married Ozai."

She said it like it was something he should have known. Like it was obvious that his mother, before being royalty, had been an actress. That his father, that Ozai the tyrant, had picked a pretty actress to become his wife like some sleezy governor. And it would make sense, if Ozai had been interested in anything other than power, but he wasn't. But Zuko's mother had been an actress.

"You didn't know?" Katara asked, sounding far away to his ears. He could feel a tug on his sleeve, but he felt numb all over. "She told me, after Fire Lady Ilah died. Showed me some... Some memorabilia and things she kept hidden away. Zuko, I'm sorry. I... I thought you knew."

He shook his head, stumbling towards the house. His ears rang like the chirping of a thousand cicada cricket. Stumbling through the house, he came to a stop on the back porch, dropping down to sit on the steps.

It was a shock. To learn that Katara apparently knew more about his mother than he did. He knew... He knew she had married Ozai, when he was just the second prince. He knew that she hadn't exactly loved Ozai, but she had loved him. She had tried to love Azula, but she was always a little too much like Ozai, and Zuko was always... too much of the opposite. He knew that his mother liked the turtle duck pond, and the theater, and the gardens, but he didn't know...

He hadn't known that she had been an actress.

He was starting to realize that he never knew where his mother was from. He didn't know the names of his mothers parents. He didn't know if his mother had any friends, if she liked to travel more than from the palace to Ember Island and back. For all he knew, when she left, she went across the world and disappeared into some far off Earth Kingdom town, vanishing into obscurity.

"Zuko," he heard somewhere behind him. "I... There's an emergency. Someone washed up on the beach, and they're looking for a physician. I'll be back soon, okay?"

He couldn't bring himself to answer. He didn't know anything about his mother. Did he know anything about anyone? Did he know Sokka? Aang? Toph? What didn't he know about Suki? What had he missed about Katara.

He hadn't known his mother had been an actress...

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[my-castles-crumbling]

Merry Christmas! Chapter 12- Clandestine

Merry Christmas, to all those who celebrate! What better on this lovely holiday than lots of toxicity and angst? WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS PRETTY HEAVY SO PLEASE READ WARNINGS! CW: deadnaming, transphobia, lots of dysphoria, mentions of physical abuse, abuse by parents through magic, just like...really shitty people, a hint of people sexualizing minors (but not in a way that results in anything), use of the imperius curse, but not in a sexual way, just...Walburga and Orion being horrible.

The euphoria of having two supportive roommates was short-lived, as an owl arrived for Regulus as December started that made his skin crawl:

Regina, This serves as a reminder that we expect both you and your brother here and on your best behavior during the holidays. We have many important extended family members coming to our hour for Christmas, and it is important that you are here to represent the Black family. We will pick you up at King’s Cross at eleven. Mother

-

When classes ended for the holidays, Regulus found himself laying in his dorm room, Pandora laying on Barty’s bed while Barty lay with Evan, all of them staring up at the ceiling.

“Is anyone actually excited about going home?” Barty asked vaguely, kicking gently at Evan’s knee.

The room was quiet.

“Don’t suppose Cas can fit all four of us at her house?” Evan joked humorlessly, kicking back at Barty.

“She could barely fit me,” Regulus murmured, stomach turning at the thought of going home.

More silence.

“Well. We could all stay here?” Pandora spoke now.

“My parents would rather birth a dragon before allow me to stay here again,” Regulus snorted, thinking of the letter he’d received last week.

Barty sat up and laughed a bit. “I’d pay money to see that.”

“Same.”

-

Sometimes, Regulus wondered if anyone really enjoyed the holidays. He tried to remember a time when they didn’t mean some sort of discomfort. Some amount of dread.

Even as a child, the holidays weren’t magical, like in the stories. Because it wasn’t magical to be stuffed into horrid outfits and paraded about to others. It wasn’t fun to sit in hard-backed chairs and pressured to behave perfectly so company didn’t ‘judge the entire family.’ It wasn’t joyous. It wasn’t a celebration.

He wondered if some families got together simply to see each other and enjoy being with one another. Because really, days with his extended family weren’t enjoyable. It felt more like a competition- Walburga reminding both him and Sirius to be the most well-behaved. To not embarrass her. The adults bragging about their children to each other while said children were expected to sit and eat what they were given. Like living dolls.

This year was obviously expected to be no different.

-

“You’re getting older, Regina,” his mother said one night at dinner, shortly after they’d arrived back from Hogwarts.

He winced, trying not to stab too violently at his steak. “Regulus,” he murmured.

“That’s exactly it,” his mother continued, looking over her nose at him. “Your father and I have been talking and we’ve given you enough chances. We’ve tried mind healers. We’ve tried giving you time. We’ve tried punishment. You’re far too old for this nonsense, and I’ll be having it no longer. From either of you,” she said pointedly, looking to Sirius.

Sirius just rolled his eyes and ate quietly.

“You’re to drop it. All of it. Or your father and I will have to find a stricter consequence,” Walburga said in a threatening voice.

Regulus’s stomach turned at that, and he felt a bit ill. He grabbed at the rock in his pocket, squeezing it tightly. Stricter than partial starvation, isolation, and pain?

He looked at Sirius, who looked back at him with an equally-nervous expression. “Yes, mother,” he murmured, deciding he could try his best to keep his mouth shut for the next two weeks.

-

“Just leave it, Sirius,” he told his brother late that night, even as his stomach churned at the thought. “Don’t- don’t correct them anymore. Don’t say anything anymore. I don’t want…I don’t want anything bad to happen.”

He reflected on all the things their parents had done to both of them without batting an eye. The bigoted ideals they spewed so blatantly as if they made all the sense in the world. The way they supported hurting and even killing people they disliked, people who were different from them.

It was scary to think about, but Walburga and Orion could be dangerous. And apparently, they didn’t possess a soft bone in their bodies. Even for their kids.

Sirius stared at him for a moment, the moon reflecting in his eyes, making them sparkle like stars. “Reg….someday we’ll find a place where we won’t have to worry about it.”

“We have that place. Hogwarts,” Regulus shrugged. And Hogwarts was that place. Especially now, with Barty and Evan knowing about him and accepting him. He truly felt like himself there. Like he wasn’t fighting against anyone or anything just to exist.

But Sirius looked at him with pain in his eyes. “No, like...a home.”

Regulus thought about that. Had he ever really had a home? “Sounds nice,” he murmured.

Sounds impossible.

-

Keeping his mouth shut worked for a while. He responded to his parents, even when they said “Regina” or “she” or “her,” even though it made his skin crawl. He wore baggy shirts to hide his binder. He and Sirius both stopped correcting their parents.

He tried instead to stay away from everyone. He hid in his room during the day- reading, completing his homework, turning his rock over and over again in his hand and daydreaming about being back at Hogwarts. Being Regulus again.

If he was honest, he hated it, but he knew at this point that fighting against Walburga and Orion was risky. The entire Black family favored more traditional forms of magic, and Regulus wouldn’t put it past them to do something particularly cruel or painful. Or even to keep them both from Hogwarts completely.

So, he sucked it up for a bit, sneaking into Sirius’s room like he used to, sharing his bed with him and whispering to him about the goosebumps he felt on the back of his neck when Mother called him ‘Regina’ and the way he wanted to cry when Father called him his daughter. And together they counted down the days until they would go back to Hogwarts.

“It’s not forever, Reggie,” Sirius whispered to him as they shared a blanket, Sirius’s warmth the only comforting thing Regulus could find.

-

“Absolutely not,” Regulus muttered to himself when he woke up on Christmas Day, the nausea making his knees wobble.

It sat there, innocent and unmoving, shiny and pristine: a dress.

But it wasn’t just a dress. It was the most dressy dress he’d ever seen.

Baby pink with matching satin bows, tulle in layers to make an obnoxious three-tiered skirt, poufy sleeves and a corset-type bodice with a v-neck that would make even his small chest look pronounced.

And a clear message: He was to wear it.

He was not going to. Fuck Walburga’s threats.

As if summoned by his thoughts, his mother walked to his door and murmured dangerously, “I had this custom-made for you, Regina.”

He glared at her feet and didn’t say a word. Absolutely not.

“You’ll wear it. You’ll thank me.”

He still didn’t say a word, still resolutely clamping his mouth shut and looking away.

In the corner of his eye, his mother waved her wand. And then-

His brain cleared. It was the oddest feeling. Suddenly, he didn’t feel. Everything felt empty. It was almost nice, except he didn’t have a choice at all when he felt himself saying, “Thank you, mother.”

And then the feeling was gone. He almost missed it.

Except, of course, now he was furious. And he felt completely violated. Like he needed to scrub his brain out with a wire sponge.

“Good,” his mother said calmly, walking away.

And then he ran to throw up in the bathroom, clutching at his own head.

-

“I have no choice, Sirius,” he muttered to his brother an hour later, as they both stared at the dress.

Neither had said much to each other about the curse his mother had used. It felt like an elephant in the room. Neither wanted to be the one to bring it up; how horrible and terrifying it was. That they could just be controlled like that. What, exactly, had she done? What else could she make them do?

Sirius nodded, looking pale. “Alright. Alright, so you wear it.”

Regulus gagged a bit at the thought, but nodded as well.

“She’s not going to keep doing that. She- we just have to get through the holiday,” Sirius murmured unconvincingly.

“Right. And then the summer?” Regulus asked, eyes twinging only a little.

“We- we cross that bridge when we come to it,” Sirius said firmly.

Regulus nodded again, slowly peeling off his clothing. He didn’t even care that Sirius was there to see. It wasn’t like it mattered much, anyway.

-

After the first ten minutes of dinner, Regulus decided he hated Christmas.

He’d gotten so many reactions on his outfit.

Bella and Narcissa both complemented the pink and bows, giggling and smirking.

Aunt Druella had simply drooled over it, commenting on how Regulus had ‘finally turned into a proper lady!’

Uncle Cygnus had looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl, the old man’s eyes raking over his chest appraisingly.

He’d been to the bathroom twice already, having to take such a long time to calm his sobs, squeezing his rock in his hand and gagging over the toilet, that Kreacher had been sent to check on him the second time and make sure he was quite well.

He was not.

He saw Sirius sneaking worried looks at him, but tried not to react, or even meet his eye.

He felt like a sideshow. An animal on display. And the tortured, furious, worried look in Sirius’s eyes just made it worse.

“Go downstairs, Sirius,” Regulus moaned through shivers as he tried, for the third time, to collect himself in the bathroom.

A friend of his fathers had complimented him on just how “shapely” his body looked in his dress.

“This is ridiculous, Reggie!” Sirius hissed through the door. “I- we have to do something! She’s basically torturing you!”

“I can get through one day!” Regulus spat back, sniffing and avoiding looking down at his body as he wiped his eyes in the mirror.

“I can’t just stand by and let them treat you like this!” Sirius retorted.

Regulus opened the door to look his brother in the eye and tell him that, yes, he absolutely could.

But he was gone.

-

They were called to dinner at that moment and Regulus reluctantly went down the stairs, hoping Sirius would follow suit.

Everyone sat, placing napkins on their laps and folding their hands politely, complimenting Walburga’s ‘spectacular table setting’ or whatever, when someone exclaimed, “Oh! Where has Sirius gone?”

Walburga looked to Sirius’s assigned seat (next to Regulus) and turned a bit pink, clearly horrified that Sirius would dare embarrass her by being absent from dinner and bringing negative attention to her by association.

But then they heard Sirius’s voice down the hall, “No need to worry, dear family! I’m here!”

Regulus turned to see Sirius, and his mouth dropped open.

Because Sirius was dressed in the most obnoxiously frilly dress he’d ever seen.

If he’d been anywhere else, he’d probably have burst out laughing. It was a comedic scene, after all. Sirius’s dress was even worse than Regulus’s. It was pink as well, but mostly a floral pattern, with multiple layers of ruffles and curly pink bows at his waist. Though it was short in the front, the back was long enough to have a train, even though he wore platform bubblegum-pink high heels. Magenta roses lay at each hip and a pink ribbon was tied corset-style up his stomach, and he’d even stuffed apples in the top to give himself a chest. He had another rose tied around his neck and two horrifically giant floral bows tied in his dark hair, which was in pigtails.

The entire table stared, mouths agape.

“I figured, since we’re forcing boys to wear dresses now, I would wear one as well,” Sirius said, and while his eyes held a challenging glint, he spoke so simply it was as if he was stating the evening’s menu.

And Regulus had to snort at that. He was terrified of his parents’ reaction, but he felt the biggest sense of relief wash over him, the sick feeling he’d been fighting against all day suddenly fading away. He was no longer alone, being stared at by his family.

Instead, he and Sirius were together, two boys in ridiculous dresses.

He felt powerful.

Until Orion stood, breaking the silence, his wand in hand.

“Bedrooms. Both of you.”

Regulus looked to Sirius, who looked a bit nervous.

The calm feeling washed over him.

“Now.”

He walked away from the table, quite without his own permission. Sirius followed mutely alongside him.

Bitches be like, "this is my comfort character" and then put said comfort character through all of The Horrors. Sorry, guys. I warned you. But...you should click below to read the full WIP and leave comments and kudos!

[yourkimjaejin]

Dizzying Thoughts

In Osaka

“Unnie-yah, You ate right? I didn’t see you grab anything.” Juno sat down with her full plate in catering. The younger barely missed the leader's wince. Moxy’s face snapped back into a neutral position when Juno looked up. 

“Yeah I had some food earlier.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Madrid

“Migyeong-ah, I didn’t see you eat today. You’ve had something right?” Soonjae asked her charge while Moxy adjusted her mic.

“I ate a granola bar Unnie. You know how my stomach is before a show. I promise to eat after.” Before Soonjae could respond, The stage director started rehearsal.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In Paris

“What did you order last night, Gyeongie?” Hannah luckily was lounging on one of the beds in Moxy’s room while the aforementioned leader was finishing up her skincare in the bathroom. It’s lucky cause Hannah missed the flash of panic that racked thru older’s body while she thought of an answer. 

“Uhh…..I got a……burger?” 

“Really?” Hannah sat up, “I got one too but Kenji-oppa never mentioned getting you one too.” 

“He must have gotten mine earlier than you.” Moxy walked out the bathroom, praying her face didn’t betray her.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

The members of AG and their tour crew were crowded around two long tables with piles of food lining each one. The group was celebrating ending the European leg of AG’s tour with a final show in London tonight. While her members and staff sat around talking jovially and devouring the food laid out for them, Moxy sat hunched over. Moving the food around on her plate, illuding that she was eating. But Moxy had been doing quite the opposite for a while now. 

See, our precious leader has an anxious stomach. Sometimes things get so severe that the sight of food nauseates her. Leading to the rapper going on stage with nothing for her body to feed off of for three hours of vigorous dancing and exhausting singing. Nervousness mostly affects her before big moments in her career. Her first stage of Limitless. The first time she sang You Don’t Know Me. Her first recording session for Something Like A Party. You get the point.

It was never something she couldn’t manage. Once her worries were disproven, she’d take the time to eat and everything would be right with the world. Noone would be none the wiser. The first time it got real bad was during 127’s tour, Neo City - The Origin. Moxy was so nervous. Anxious over how each crowd would receive her. Everytime the boys offered her food she shrugged it off, promising to eat later at the hotel. Then she’d there and a whole new batch of fearful thoughts crept into her brain, taking her appetite with them. 

This went on for a weeks. Regretfully, all of 127 were just starting to get along. So the boys weren’t tuned into Moxy behavior until it was too late. After the group's show in Phoenix, Moxy collapsed as soon as she made it backstage. Nobody had a clue what was wrong so Soonjae made the decision to call an ambulance. She was diagnosed with low blood sugar and was forced to spend the night for observation. The managers knew they had to get to Houston. They all could tell getting them to leave would be like pulling teeth so they rebooked flights. Migyeong got the scolding of her life from Johnny when she came to. She proceeded to get smothered within an inch of her life between the arms of Doyoung and Taeyong. 

127 had a serious talk about what Moxy had been going through after the next show. Jaehyun and Doyoung paired up on ways to help the rapper get past her nerves before they got on stage and it worked. As the tour went forward, with her members help, Moxy was able to stomach small meals and snacks before performing. Anytime another attack came, she knew her members would be right there to help even when Moxy had to fly back to Korea for AG’s debut.

Before AG left for their tour, Johnny talked to her about keeping up with meals. 

“I’m seriously Migyeong-ah. I do not want to hear about you fainting while I’m here and you’re across the country.” Moxy grabbed Johnny’s hand. She felt the same concerns but she was better now. 

“It won’t get to that point and if it does I’ll tell Hannah. You know she doesn’t play with any of our health.” Moxy continued to pack. She missed her oppa’s concerned gaze. 

Now almost a month later and it was worse. Moxy was lucky to fly under Hannah's radar while the second oldest fretted over Aurora and her healing burn. As she looked around at the others happily shoveling food into their mouths, it nauseated her even further. Moxy pushed her plate away, ready to escape the stuffy restaurant into the sweet silence of her hotel room. But her actions caught the attention of her dongsaeng. 

“Unnie have you even eaten anything? Your plate still looks full.” Juno stole a piece of the elders chicken. The leader had to fight off the look of disgust. Then the question registered in her brain. If Moxy was in an anime, that one sweat drop would be right next to her forehead. 

“Oh! That's just because….. I grabbed more food than I can handle. Don’t wanna be too bloated before tomorrow.” She rubbed her stomach to sell the lie. 

“Are you girls excited?” Soonjae interrupted, “The crowd last night was crazy. I swear they’re the loudest we’ve heard so far.” 

Hannah snorted, “Yeah lets hope we don’t get another crying session courtesy of Aurora.” Aurora reached out to smack Hannah’s shoulder but the elder ducked out of the way. “YAH! I told you that was because my nanan was in the crowd.” Happy to have the attention off of her, Moxy slumped down in her chair.. The nauseous feeling dulling down. Maybe once she gets to the hotel, she’d be up to eating something. 

Yeah, she could do that. Just make it to the hotel. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

That hotel meal didn’t happen. After dinner finished, Moxy had every intention of ordering something small but the girls were called to the venue to do some testing and last minute rehearsals. They didn’t finish until 3am. By that time, food was the furthest thing from the leader’s mind. She crashed as soon as her body hit the bed. 

Breakfast and lunch didn’t cross Moxy’s mind either. Even after a flawless show yesterday, Moxy woke up worried. She didn’t want to underperform especially when their fans had paid money to see them at their best. The leader went through the motions all day. Time passing in a daze of anxiety. She blinked and the group were being ushered to their places. During the entire opening, Moxy fought off several bouts of blurriness. The rapper was lucky her spots were drilled into her brain. She could find a formation blindfolded. 

Nobody questioned if something was wrong……at least until the dizzy spells started. 

Come on….not now… Moxy thought as another wave of dizziness washed over her after the girl group cover section. The results of her mistake had been growing and growing all night. Honestly, the stories of adrenaline doing crazy things to the human body was a fact to her now. Moxy had no idea how she made it through this much of the concert with passing out. 

She couldn’t wait until the show was over so she could finally eat. 

In the middle of the cordi noona’s helping her change for the next stage, Moxy felt her legs give out for a moment before she caught herself. The noona’s around her shared a look but Moxy waved them off. “Just lost my balance.” reassuring everyone

Come on girl……two sets then you’re home free. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Everything was moving in slow motion. Every step felt like it took minutes. Moxy barley felt the hands ripping clothes off and replacing them with the ones she needed for the encore. 

The noise around her turned into sludge. The rapper was incapable of distinguishing what anyone was saying around her. She didn’t even notice when her members surrounded her. 

“Noona?”

“Moxy..can…..you…..hear……”

“Is…..-thing…..on.” 

The world around her felt far away. Like she was floating into a dark abyss. The arena’s backstage a small box as she lifted off. 

Moxy didn’t even register when she hit the ground. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Her eyes opened to the concerned eyes of Soonjae. 

Moxy’s brain caught up before her body. The memories of the night coming like photos in her brain. Skipping meals. Feeling sluggish just as the concert started. The dark spots in her vision as she looked out at the thousands of fans. The dizziness giving way to exhaustion finally taking her out. Confusion, recognition then panic rattled through her. She sat up but another sudden wave of dizziness almost sent her back down. Soonjae tried to push her back but Moxy twisted away. 

The director ran in, “I don’t know how much longer we can stall.” 

Hannah’s eyes snapped over, anger blasing, “You better find time. Migyeong’s not awake yet but when she does there's no way she’s going on stage yet.”

“Actually look who's joined us.” At Soonjae’s voice, three faces snap to Moxy’s place on the couch. All wearing different expressions: one pissed, one of concern and another of relief. They crowded around the leader but instead of assuring them she was ok. Moxy went against Hannah’s words. 

“Yes….I am.” Moxy was finally able to say after the dizziness faded. She tried getting up but Hannah pinned her with a dark look. 

“Moxy you just passed out. No way are we performing the encore.” Hannah was ready to argue back but Moxy glared. 

“Good thing you're not the leader.” Four pairs of arms reached out as Moxy stood up, wobbling a bit in place but quickly steadying herself, “I was only out for a couple minutes. We’re going out there and finishing this show.” Everyone tried to object but Moxy just held her hand up. “I’ll take it easy but we are going out there and that’s final.” Nobody said anything. Well nobody had the courage to. 

Hannah, Juno and Aurora worried over the leader's condition but they all knew she wouldn’t change her mind. Slowly everyone resumed their tasks. Three women surrounded Moxy to fix her makeup and clothes. Practically erasing the past four minutes from reality. 

The girls ran to reenter the stage while the music started up for Our Time Is Here. Several mangers followed behind the eldest, making sure she made it to the stage safely. Before Moxy walked out, Soonjae grabbed her hand. 

“Answer me one thing? Have you been eating?” Moxy’s silence was answer enough. She couldn’t even look Soonjae in the eye. 

If looks could kill, Moxy wouldn’t be walking into a stadium full of cheers from the crowd. She’d be in for an earful when they got back to the hotel.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Moxy stayed back to get checked by the doctor while her other members left for the hotel. Maybe I won’t get chewed out tonight Moxy though as the car pulled into the hotel's parking lot. The dread built as she walked through the lobby to the elevators. The leader dragged her body down the hall, feet sliding on the carpeted floor. She swayed on her feet, fumbling with the key to unlock her door. 

She could feel the embrace of her bed close by but instead of a blissfully cold bed, there sat Hannah with a full bag of food and holding a phone, Moxy sighed knowing what she was in for.

“Oppa’s on the phone for you.” Hannah held the phone out for the leader to take.

“Taeyong-oppa?” She said, hopeful. 

“No…..Johnny-oppa.”

“Shit…” Hope’s shattered, Moxy plopped down on the chair across from Hannah. The dancer focused on taking out the food while Moxy braced herself for a pissed off Johnny.

“Yeobeoseyo?”

“........Thea Marie Thompson.” 

“Oppa before you start—” 

“Don’t even try it, Thea.” Moxy’s mouth snapped shut. She could feel Johnny's anger through the phone. 

“I can’t believe I’m talking to you about this. You promised me we would not repeat what happened during Regular promotions. You promised me you’d eat, Thea. But now not only am I getting calls from Soonjae but from Hannah about you passing out and still going back on stage.” Hearing Johnny’s retelling of what happened tonight made Moxy feel worse than she already did. Maybe things had gotten bad and she just didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

“I did and it wasn’t going that far. At least I didn’t think it was. I…I was only skipping food before the show. I tried to eat after..…but things got hectic. And that's on me. My nerves have been getting to me and I felt like I couldn’t stomach anything. So I kept going because I had to” Both sides of the line were quiet. “I’m sorry for not calling for help.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t fly out to make sure you’re eating before every show.” 

“Hannah’s already got food sitting in front me.” Moxy looked out at the impressive spread Hannah was able to put together between the ending of the show and the car ride to the hotel. 

“You should have told Hannah beforehand.” 

“I thought I could handle it okay! I’m not some little kid Johnny. I’m a young adult who made a mistake and went past her limits” She heard Johnny sigh on the other end.

“You’re right…..You’re right you are an adult. But can you blame me for being concerned? Last time this happened, you landed in hospital with no one knowing what was wrong. I never want any of us to go through that again.” Moxy didn’t like to think about her last stretch of not eating. All of her memories revolved around the worried looks of the 127 members as they surrounded her hospital bed. 

“I’m sorry Johnny. I promise to keep a closer watch on my food intake.” 

“And I promise to help her.” Hannah chimed in, making Johnny and Moxy laugh. “Don’t worry oppa, we’ll get our leader back on track.” Hannah placed a container of food in front of Moxy and a fork. Before he hung up, Johnny told Hannah to take photo evidence of Moxy eating and send it to him. To ease his worries. 

Moxy finally dug into the delicious food Hannah had ordered. It’s not weird to cry over really good food, right?

“So what happens?” Hannah asked between bites. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When it feels like you can’t eat. What runs through your head.” Moxy blew a raspberry trying to think of how to answer that.

“I guess….I overthink about everything. The performance and my vocals. I want everything to be perfect for the fans. I don’t want to disappoint them. Those thoughts…..they run through my brain like a hamster wheel. I get overwhelmed then my stomach gets queasy. You know what happens next.” Moxy took another bite of her food. 

The members of 127 set up a code word to help Moxy through these anxious moments. Code: Underwater. Anytime her emotions took over, Moxy could text one of the members at any time. They in turn would help calm her down and get a couple bites of food down in Moxy’s system. The more she thought about it. The more the truth behind her regression became apparent. She was AG’s leader. Calling her older members for help with her anxiety felt like she was being a baby. Someone that wasn’t fit to lead a team, especially when they were away from home. 

“Now, you got me to help. And anytime you feel nervous like that I’ll remind you that you’re a beast and one of the best leaders around.” Hannah shook her shoulders, getting a smile on her face. 

Luckily, she has the greatest members on the planet. Who would never think less of her for having anxieties. 

“Even if you made a mistake you could never disappoint anyone. Not us and much less the fans, okay?” Moxy nodded. It would be difficult reaching out at first. But she never wanted to worry her members again. Not when it can be stopped beforehand. Taking Hannah’s words to heart, The oldest began to eat with earnest, savoring every bite. 

As they ate, Aurora and Juno joined them with their own food. The four of them crowded around the small table, sharing what they had between them. Moxy knew the younger two wanted to be close after she scared them today. 

The members decided to screw bedtime and just stay up. They scrolled through instagram, played music, danced and even caught up with some of the members. They all needed a night like this. After all, the tour just started. AG had a long way to go. 

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Next up for tour angst.....Hannah ~ Author Izzy