#at least last year they had me do one piece. sent me the sheet music. soundchecked day of. and let me go.

[supercantaloupe]

this fucking woman has been sending us multiple emails every day with conflicting information about what she wants us to play and when she wants us to rehearse for this stupid xmas concert and i'm about to just fucking quit and tell her to find another oboist at this point

[idiotwithanipad]

A Chat With Amy

Alison: As far as Humphrey's told me, the hotel's newest ghost, Amy, gets quite chatty once you can get a topic she likes out of her. I did do a Ten Questions sheet with her last year but since then- haven't really heard anything of her. Other than liking Monster and depressing music, she seems a bit introverted. Might give it another crack today.

Alison: (Update: Turns out Amy is a night owl and doesn't get up till gone mid day. Can't get into the East Wing bedroom yet as haven't bribed the desk guy, I'll get him eventually though. Will have to ask the ghosts to wake her up.

(Attempt one: Sent Kitty to go get Amy up but she said 'She didn't move an inch'...)

(Attempt two: Sent Fanny but she soon came back looking like she was ready to meet her maker)

(Attempt three: Robin got cocky and said he'd go get her. He was up there a while but came back looking like a told off puppy.

Robin: That word cut deeper than spear...

Alison: Yeah... Don't really want to write what Robin said she said but it rhymes with 'Duck off can't'

Alison: Luckily, Humphrey's body came along so we sent him up.

Alison: Took another hour but finally got Amy into Higham Suite-

Amy: (Groaned like a zombie)

Alison: Humphrey was in one piece too, so she must like him. Or at least prefers him?

Amy: Remind me why the f—k I got tackled by Robin... On my f——g bed?

Alison: Remember the Ten Questions from last year?

Amy: Nah

Alison: Well, I'm going about getting more info off you. Don't really have a lot of time to ACTUALLY get to know you nowadays so this is the only way.

Amy: You wearing a wire?...

Alison: ... I'm sorry?...

Amy: You ARE sorry...

Alison: ... 'Kay...Anyway, don't suppose you remember your biggest Monster record? Most drunk in a day or quickest time to drink a full can?

Amy: (she practically sat bolt upright) Oh yeah. Most in a day was 9. Quickest record was a full can in one minute thirty seconds. It's was in the middle of August so it was boiling hot, couldn't have drank that shit faster

Alison: Wow

Amy: Yeah. There was another time where I tired to beat that record, it was on a school day during my maths GCSE's and it gave me the hiccups. All the way through the exam this c—t in my class was sat opposite me in the exam hall and he kept giving me the evils. So on the way out of the hall, I jabbed him in the arse with my compass.

Alison: Oh my- why?

Amy: He shouldn't have been staring at me...

Alison: ... Okay... Moving on then?

Amy: F'you want

Alison: Uhh, favourite flavour of Monster? Probably a trick question...

Amy: You'd be right... Mango Loco. A flavour came out a few years back called Bad Apple. I usually love artificial flavour but that one wasn't too sweet, kinda appreciated that from it.

Alison: Cherry is usually the go-to for me. Remember Cherry Lucazade?

Amy: Yeah, I tried that. I prefer Monster but Cherry Lucazade weren't bad. It's weird cause Cherry is usually one of those flavours that people get wrong. It's either too bland and doesn't taste like Cherry at all, or it tastes like straight up cough syrup. A wholeass bottle of Calpol

Alison: Yeah, I know what you mean

Amy: It's a visceral flavour... Like when you've got the flu and you cough up that green phlegmy shi-

Alison: AANYway- You join in any groups with the others? They do music club and food club? You said you liked Italian good before, anything else?

Amy: Ramen Noodles are pretty convenient I guess. Wish I could have some lasagna though. My all time favourite, my granddad taught me to make it when I was too small to even see over the stove, I had to stand on a chair.

Alison: Aww

Amy: Sometimes they cook it here and it drives me in-f——g sane. When I first died, like three weeks into death I was up in my room and one night I just smelled it. Like, I could tell it was lasagna even from the East Wing. I went down to the kitchen and Robin was already there sniffing it too. After that he started teaching me how to use my sense of smell more. Apparently not all ghosts can do it, so I guess I'm lucky really. He told me closing my eyes would help, that's what he did. Something about closing your eyes and taking sniffs, apparently when you smell something and you can't pinpoint what it is at first, you should just shut your eyes and your subconscious fills in the blanks...or some shit...

Alison: oh, never knew that. Interesting... What about music club? Silver mentioned liking Evanescence, you old enough to remember Evanescence?

Amy: Course I am. I liked Whisper to be honest, cool guitar riff. I don't really fixate on bands specifically though, I'm kinda like a musical salad, if I like the song, I'll listen to it. Doesn't have to be a particular genre, if it's a vibe, I'll vibe to it. But then I found ICP. My one true love, whoop whoop.

Alison: ICP? (Regret asking, got so intrigued that I googled them and now I'm scarred for life)

Amy: 'Rainbows and Stuff' is just me on a daily basis

Alison: (Don't know if that should be a concern or not)

Alison: Have anything to do once Silver goes to sleep? You can't tell me you spend the rest of the month all on your own up there?...

Amy: Nah. I talk to the others. Kitty's pretty fun to talk to sometimes, Silver's my best mate though, we have the biggest laughs. But when she sleeps, it's normally Robin and Humphrey. Mostly Humphrey, he's chill like that

Alison: (Couldn't help but notice the change in Amy's demeanour after bringing up Humphrey)

Amy: Truth is, he didn't try to force me to join in at first. Apparently he'd been in my room the whole week that- me and my mum came here. I saw him after I woke up from dying. I just remember waking up and seeing nothing but pitch black and hearing muffled voices. When I sat up I kinda like- passed through the dark and into the light... But then I saw that I was on a stretcher in a f——g body bag. I crawled back away from these two weirdo paramedics and heard a voice under the bed, low and behold, that's when I met Humphrey...

Alison: ...

Amy: But then Robin came in and spotted me and got all excited and went to find the others before I could hide (rolled her eyes). The idiots were kinda itching to be 'the new girl's friend' and it was so annoying, so I just hid in my wardrobe for a week

Alison: A WEEK?

Amy:…Problem?

Alison: You mean to tell me you just sat in that old wardrobe for a whole week?

Amy: Well, yeah, I weren’t gonna just come out and have those weirdos screaming in my face, I get enough of that every morning with Robin still.

Alison: Okay, so- what made you change your mind?

Amy: They didn’t come in for a few days, so I thought the ‘coast was clear’. I got out to stretch my legs and left the East Wing. But I heard Pat and Cap arguing downstairs about what to do with me, so I held on the stairs and earwigged for a bit. Then Humphrey came along again, can’t exactly remember how the conversation went but we ended up telling each other how we died. It felt good to vent after all that bull—it. Kinda felt like he was the only sane one left in this house (she smiled)

Alison: He got you used to being a ghost?

Amy: In some ways. Robin helped me get used to walking through walls and stuff, but Humphrey was kinda like my rock the whole time. He always told me to take it easy. I almost didn’t wanna put the poor guy down cause I was scared I’d lose him again…

Alison: Again?

Amy: Yeah…this doesn’t leave this f——g table, but I lost his head once and-

Robin: (Seemingly appeared out of nowhere) She did big cry and got tears and sticky nose stuff all over my furs-!

Amy: (She chased him out of the kitchen and came back 5 minutes later)

Amy: Next!

Alison: Nah, think that’ll be it…

[laketaj24]

Marked II

Author’s Note: Hello, people! I hope all is well out there! Here is a second part of Marked! I hope that you enjoy it! Let me know what you think! My taglist, requests are open, but I’m slow with the writing here lately. I apologize!

Pairings: Alpha!Henry Cavill x Omega!Reader

Warnings: Dub!Con, Masturbation, Omegavers, Smut 

Henry Cavill M A S T E R L I S T

The room smelled of fresh pine, maple syrup, and eggs, a delightful thing to wake up to in your own house and not a stranger’s. You shift beneath the red covers, sitting up in the bed and staring at the plate in front of you. Henry had cooked; there was no walk of shame when breakfast was involved. “About time, you woke up.” The groveled voice of Henry sent sensations down your body, last night still lingered down your body. The kisses on your thighs, the bite mark on your chest. Everything raged for him.

“I didn’t mean to stay the night.” But you were not going to apologize, the sheets were soft, the food was hot, and so the hell was he. The plate called your name, and you answered, picking up the white plate with a blue rim and the fork.

“I don’t mind, I called into work, had some other things I wanted to do.” Henry cocked his thick brow and smiled. “You seemed to sleep pretty well.”

“Yeah.” You started with the bacon, savoring the sweet and salty flavor before clearing your throat. There was no doubt something in you had changed in one night. “So, where do we start?”

“I’m sorry?” He looked confused, but you were not convinced.

“You bit me…” The oversized shirt hung from your shoulder, already making it easy for you to show him the bit mark mid-chest. “Called me… omega,” You swallowed the remaining bits of your bacon.

“That’s what you are, omega.” Henry was a well-toned type of animal, his muscles flexed with each move he made, and he was bulk. And now, for some reason, the only thing you could think when he was near you was how his weight would feel on top of you.

“I don’t know what that is, and nor do I want to hear about it. I want a formal apology for you biting me, and I want you to put on a damn shirt.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“Yes.” You started on the eggs, closing your eyes as you savored the first bite swirling with butter and just the right amount of seasonings. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.” He shook his head. “Get some clothes on, pet.”

“Pet?”

“Yep.” He turned from the room and headed down the hallway that seemed narrow in comparison to him. “You have a few minutes to get dressed, and we are leaving.”

“To go?”

“Hurry up,” Henry added.

 It was odd being across the street from your own home but dressing somewhere else. He had been nifty while you slept, using your keys to get clothes from you all the while hiding them from you so you could not go home. You hopped quickly in the shower, equipped with a glass door. It was evident that he was watching; you could not determine if you were pissed or happy to put on a show.  The soaps appeared to be all-natural, the smell of the oils hitting your nose, adding a sense of calm to everything, even though you were anything but calm.

Henry had chosen another dress; you pandered between it being easy to access or the sight of your legs, being the reason why he chose them. Either way, you put on the ivory dress garnished with pink and yellow flowers with a smile, this dress made you think of home. There was no hope to comb your hair; he wouldn’t have known the right supplies anyhow. He waited stoically on the bed as you dressed, admiring you as a wolf would his prey, eyes narrowed and tongue sliding across his lips.

“See something you like.”

He chuckled. “That cocky attitude has to disappear before we head to the Den.”

“The Den.”

“You’ll see.” He stood from the bed, revealing the simple outfit he’d chosen for himself. A white t-shirt the clenched onto those muscles like a glove and dark denim jeans that perfectly hugged his ass. Damn if you weren’t near salivating yourself. “Come on.”

 The Den, it was nowhere near the one-way street downtown, like everything else. It was ‘up the way,’ as he said three or four times when you asked Henry. He liked to sing, though every note was offkey; you wanted to watch him do it. He had not one care in the world other than you, and one day in or not, it was more than any of the other men you dated had to offer. The windows were down, and the woody smell only grew stronger the further you drove down the backroad.

“I shouldn’t trust you this much, you know?”

“And why not?” Henry glanced from the road to meet your eyes.

“You could be a killer.”

“I would have killed you already if I were a killer.”

“Some wolves like to play with their food.” You quipped.

“Touché.”

The Den appeared in your view; it was an ominous as you pictured. A cabin-like bar with people standing outside around fire pits. Country. You liked the aesthetic, wasn’t precisely sure if you wanted to be a part of it. He opened the door for you, taking your hand in his to help you step out of the truck.

“Henry.” The hulk of a man walked over to the two of you, burly and covered with hair.

“Jason.” He smiled.

“Omega.” He bit his lip, “She is nearly in heat.”

“I know,” Henry whispered as he walked towards the door, he left you standing alone while he started to converse with Jason.

Every free eye in the area was on you, and the whispers had started. “Scared?” The friendly voice startled you, but he was there to catch you, chocolate eyes met yours as soon as you found your balance.

“No, for what…” You shrugged. “I don’t know these people.”

“But they know you, omega.”

“Okay… what the fuck is an omega?”

“Well, you’ve been marked.” He pointed at the bite mark on your chest. “Your scenting too.”

“Get the fuck away from her.” Henry barked, and the guy scrambled away with his hands up. “Why didn’t you come with me?”

“You left me standing here!” You growled. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

They all looked as if you had broken the law, disgruntled and in awe, everyone but Henry. “You have a fucking cub’s mouth.”

“Cub? Look fucker and all of your equally fucked up friends…”

“She needs training.”

“Enough, Y/N.” Henry was in front of you in a few seconds, he pulled at your arm moving you up the steps and into The Den. And the inside appeared not to be what you thought, there wasn’t a dancefloor, a stage or even a full bar. There was a small bar, no dance floor, just a long hallway leading to a few different rooms.

“Henry.” You whispered.

“Shut up.” He answered once you were to the room. He pushed you inside, and there was nothing fancy about the place, just a bed.

“Why am I here?”

“Because,” he touched your neck. You’d started sweating. The drip was on his fingertips and took them in his mouth, closing his eyes and then growling. “You’re mine.”

“Bullshit excuse, and also no the fuck I’m not.”

“I marked you.” Henry touched your chest. “I made sure the entire pack knew to fuck off…”

“Pack? Omega.”

“Yeah, piece it together.” He moved towards you, shrouding you in his height, his presence in general. His eyes flickered amber, and those beautiful canines made their appearance.  Henry had made the thing known; he took what he wanted. He delved his fingers under the line of your panties and groaned. Why the fuck did you go weak when he was around you? They pulled the delicate fabric, and his teeth nipped at your neck. His tongue swiped the sweat, and you felt him hard behind you, instinctively you pushed your ass on him, and to your surprise, he stepped back.

“Since you have no fucking manners, I’ll make you wait.”

The sunset after a few hours, the golden hue of the room faded into the dark, and the only thing that could genuinely be heard was the rustle of the leaves outside the window door along with the occasional bustle of laughter from the men outside. It was no light, or at least you could not find one, you even clapped twice with hopes it would trigger the lights to come on, but there was nothing, just darkness. There was an innate part of you that wanted to try to break down the door and run, but from the looks of the guys in the house, they would not have allowed that to pass unnoticed.

There was no service in the god forbidden place, any call you’d tried would not even ring. You’d given up two hours ago, but your phone had not been rendered useless yet. Music was your only comfort in the place.

The smell of honeysuckles was prominent, a scent that you hadn’t smelled in years. The sweet floral scent was soothing; you stretched out on the bed, parting your legs.  Hunger. It had been a while since you truly valued yourself, took the time to give yourself pleasure. This was good as time as any. Your fingers start first exploring the smooth slope of your legs, the curves and dimples all accentuated by the slow pace you’d made for yourself. You’d enjoy yourself, even if he didn’t want to.

You were already wet, pushing your legs together for a moment, and you had drenched your panties and tossed them aside. Moments of last night flashed before your eyes, Henry had a way about him, that fucking muscled body over yours was the first. He had a way of commanding what he wanted, and he hadn’t said one fucking word. You traced over the sore areas of your thighs, the place he’d been anchored in for half the night, and then to your pussy. You were swollen at the thought, pulsing for him. You dipped your fingers into yourself, noticing how you dripped down the curve of your ass without even starting. Fuck.

The slim fingers plunged into you, and you moaned. Fuck, you should have been doing this from the start. The melodic sounds of the Summer Walker filled your ears; Girls Need Love fuck the words the song gave a feeling that was unmoved. Your nipples hardened against your bra, feeling fuller as you gripped them with your free hand and plunged back into your pussy with the other. Your walls were tighter, hungrier than you’d ever noticed. You slipped out, and you wasted no time pressing them upon your clit, rubbing in planned circles. If your clit was a safe, you knew the combination to get you where you needed to be.

Maybe you didn’t notice the door open because your eyes snapped shut, perhaps you didn’t give a fuck who saw you, but the bed dipped down as Henry sat at the edge of it. You couldn’t stop, him being around made it mandatory that you came. You rode your fingers, pushing them back into you, winding your waist before finding a rhythm that suited you.

You didn’t halt when you felt him in between your legs, the heat building as you worked harder, and then it boiled over when his long tongue met your clit. You came, the cum gushed out of you, and your head swirled. The bed was wet, but Henry didn’t seem to mind. He leaned closer, sucking at your clit and then lapping up the sweet slick that came from you. You knew now that the distinct earthy smell was him, as it intensified the closer he got.

His inhaled. “Making you mine was the easy part.” He said.

“You didn’t ask.” You said through labored breath before yelping again.

“An alpha doesn’t ask an omega. He claims her… is that not what you want?”

“I want to know more about you,” Your confession was drenched in lust, your fingers pulled at the curls in his head.

“You’re so sweet Y/N.” He sucked at your clit again, this time riling you to nearly cum again just from that, but he didn’t. You were wound tight, nerves tingled throughout your whole body, and all you wanted was to have him inside you again. Henry cupped your breasts, squeezing them to near pain and then releasing.

You sucked air through your teeth as he moved over the mark on your chest, and only moans can escape after. He tugged at your nipples, twisting, and edging the pain, then he would stop. Lap the juices from your pussy up again and laugh when you whimpered in defeat. He infuriated you.

“Don’t you want me to fuck you, Y/N.”

“Please.” Was it proper to beg, plead for this man to give you what you wanted? “Please, Henry. Fuck.”

In response, he hovers over you and plants a soft kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself; the sweetness resembles the same honeysuckles that had filled the air. What the fuck was going on? His mouth brushed down to your taut nipples, the beard tickling while he sucking at them for a moment, and then his teeth made an appearance biting until you squirmed away and then moving to the next. “I want to mark you again.” He whispered. “I want every fucking person in that room over there to know that this sweet pussy is mine.”

“Do it.” You moaned.

He grinned down at you; the sly smile was full of satisfaction and a carnal lust you’d never experienced. “I will, pet.” He pushed your legs further apart and found the spot that suits him well. He had on no pants, the heat of his heavy cock hung right on your thigh, there was no patience in you. You reached down, taking the weighted cock in your hand then lined him up to enter you, one hard stroke would be all it took to get there.

“Fuck me.” You begged. “Please.”

Henry obliged, thrusting into you so hard the headboard knocked back in response. The mewl that came from you only ignited him more. He slammed into you again and again. It was a moot point to beg for harder or faster because he knew when you wanted it. His pace was untamed, animalistic as he pinned your hands above your head and fucked you.

“Please, don’t stop.” You panted on the precipice of another orgasm. You’d lay beneath him all day and get fucked if it felt this exhilarating. “Please.”

Henry didn’t stop; he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to. Never had he been inside someone that fit him this perfectly. He wanted to mark you again, make you know he was serious when he said you were his. He flipped you on top of him, and he slipped out. You were so wet it was hard not to slip out. He didn’t mind. He liked it.

You didn’t pause the fucking, mounting him and placing your hands on his chest to anchor you. You bounced on him watching that perfect mouth form an O each time you sunk and took more of him than he thought you could make. He pushed the limits fucking you back, and all you could do was throw your head back and take it all.

His moans were louder now; he gripped your hips, guiding you over his cock, he wanted this to last longer, fuck you until you couldn’t stand was his goal since you could handle it. Your pussy clenched around him like a velvet glove, and a scream erupted from you. He was swelling; you loved it when he got bigger. You didn’t even think that it was fucking possible, and here he was fucking growing harder, longer, and bigger inside of you.

“You want this cum in you, pet?”

You shook your head vigorously riding the high of your climax, plus the way he felt inside of you when he came was unexplainable. “Please.”

Henry slammed up into you, knocking you forward so that you were on his chest. He loved to grip your ass to make you meet his strokes. He was fucking you faster, growling like the animal he had grown to be with you, and then it happened again. His cock swelled, he locked into you, and he came with a carnal noise that triggered you again. Fuck he was perfect if this was what it meant to be marked… then you wanted it every fucking day.

Henry Cavill Taglist: @oddsnendsfanfics​​ @taytayize123​​  @my-rosegold-soul​​ @titty-teetee​​ @sparklemichele​​ @imgoldielikehawn​​ @therandomthoughtsofmsparker​​ @therealcalicali​​ @rhys108​ @shut-up-broccoli​​@peculiar-monstar​​ @sincerelysinister​​ @xxpapasfritasxx​​ @brexrif​​  @sheismycherry​​ @justgrits​​  @angelic-kisses13​ @ikeepforgettin​​ @persephones24​​

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[alrightberries]

you look so beautiful in white

request: i'm sadist so can we request more levi angst. i don't have a specific plot in mind but just.... HURT ME AND RIP MY HEART OUT

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x fem!reader

❈ genre: angst ❈ word count: 1.4k

❈ summary: Modern AU. Levi stood in front of the altar, thinking about how much he loved you as your father walked you down the aisle.

❈ trigger warnings: mentions of sickness and death.

a/n: y’all got a fluff break last fic with the short end of the stick but since you asked me to hurt you then hurt you i shall.

(also, sorry for not making it gender neutral.)

Levi’s eyes glanced around the small chapel. 

His hands rested idly at his sides, the black tuxedo he wore fitting his small yet built frame well. His hair was styled neatly, covered in the gel that the makeup artist who visited him hours earlier insisted he use.

He took note of the flowers that littered the small venue. Delicate, white, and looking beautifully serene in the marble vases the florist had lent them for the event. It was a good choice, and Levi mentally made a reminder to himself to thank the florist for their recommendation (he’d never admit it but damn it they were right, white lilies did look better than white dahlias.) White silk ribbons lined the pews on either side of the aisle, accentuating the red carpet your father had specifically requested in the meticulous planning that led up to this point in time.

Perfect. Everything had to be perfect for today.

The guests they’d invited lingered amongst themselves, clad in their best semi-formal attire as requested on the invitations that had been sent out prior. Family, friends, co-workers, and people he’d only seen in passing yet couldn’t quite remember sat on the chapel’s benches, chatting quietly as they waited for the event to start.

His heart steadily beat inside his chest, emotions nothing but a bundle of nerves as he tried his best to keep his face calm and stoic. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the pianist he’d hired walk towards the piano that sat near the altar where Levi stood. The man held papers in his hands, sheets for the music he was requested to play.

As soon as the pianist had sat down and arranged the papers onto the stand in front of the piano keys, soft music filled the air, tickling Levi’s ears and calming his nerves as he breathed in deeply to calm his thudding heart. The chatter from the guests died down, all standing up as they looked at the opposite end of the aisle. Levi nervously fixed his tuxedo despite the fact that he knew he looked flawless, not a hair out of place as his eyes trained on the chapel’s doors when they slowly opened.

One by one, people entered and walked down the aisle, walking to their assigned seats just before they could reach the altar’s elevated steps the way they had choreographed the day before. And finally, his eyes widened and his heart stopped.

Because at the end of the aisle was the love of his life. At the end of the aisle was you.

Levi wasn’t sure what to think. Anticipation replaced the nervousness he felt in his chest. No matter how much he’d been preparing for this day, it didn’t stop his eyes from tearing up and his breath from getting caught in his lungs as he stared at the site of your father walking you down the aisle, the entourage slowly trailing behind.

He couldn’t cry, he simply couldn’t. He had to be strong.

For you.

Memories swirled in his mind. The day you met at the coffee shop, your voice nervous and eyes terrified as you handed him napkins and apologized for spilling coffee on his shirt. The day you started dating, how wide you’d smiled and your eyes twinkled when he asked to make it official. Your first anniversary, how you’d tried to make him a nice dinner to surprise him after work but fell asleep and almost burned down the house. The day he proposed to you, how you cried and yelled out “yes, oh my god, yes!” as you grabbed his face to lean in for a kiss. 

He loved you. His heart swelled at the warm memories because oh god, did he love you. He loved you more than he thought he could ever love another person.

He knew this day would come, he’d been anticipating and preparing for it as much. Yet, it took all his resolve to not let the tears fall from his eyes as he tried to ignore the lump in his throat the longer he stared at you.

Once you reached the altar and the entourage had helped you get settled in your spot, your father gently set his hand down on Levi’s shoulder. Ordinarily, this would make him cringe— he never really liked being touched, the rare exception being you. 

But today was no ordinary day.

Levi looked at your father’s eyes, emotions unreadable, and he noticed that they were brimming with tears. Your father noticed as well, letting out a small chuckle as he wiped them away.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “Always knew this day would come but I wasn’t expecting it to come so soon. It’s just so hard to let my little girl go.”

Levi let out a small nod, hand awkwardly reaching out to pat your father’s back. “It’s alright. She’s in good hands.”

Your father gave Levi a small nod as well, and the small, almsot unnoticable smile stayed on his face as he gave you one more lingering glance before he walked off the altar and to his seat in the pews.

Now left alone with his lover, Levi turned to finally look at you, and his heart skipped a beat. He admired the little white flowers woven into your hair, how they seemed to go so well with its color. The minimalist yet well thought out makeup accentuated your features, and the lipstick your makeup artist had chosen paired up nicely with the color of your skin. He made another mental note to himself, this time to personally thank the makeup artist who dolled you up for today.

His eyes roamed to take a look at the rest of your body, and he let out a small smile at the thought of how beautiful you looked in the expensive white dress he’d paid for.

Beautiful. You looked so beautiful it almost hurt.

The priest cleared his throat and Levi was snapped out of his thoughts.

This was it. This was really it.

Levi gestured to the pianist, the musician nodding and smoothly ending the song to let the priest speak. The chapel is silent once more.

“Friends, family, and loved ones.” The priest started.

Yet Levi couldn’t do anything but sadly eye the photograph of your smiling face. It sat next to your open casket, framed by the same white lilies that decorated the venue. He clenched his fists at his sides, head bowing down in defeat, unshed tears finally falling down his cheeks.

The guests at the venue blurred in his vision, going from discernible faces to a sea of black to reflect the dark clothes they wore for your funeral. It was better this way— this way, he didn’t have to look at their crying eyes and their pity-filled glances.

He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He couldn’t keep trying to be strong, even if it was for you, because this was pain— it was agonizing, tearing at his insides, clutching at his heart and threatening to break it into a million tiny pieces once more, just like it did when he rushed you to the hospital in the middle of the night where you were pronounced dead on arrival.

It made him want to yell, scream out, curse at the universe for taking you away from him, and the realization that your corpse lay in the white casket behind him finally sunk in. He silently heaved, knees threatening to give out beneath him, and he wanted to sob right then and there because life was just so unfair.

You were supposed to have at least a year left to live. The wedding was supposed to be set two months from now, yet the cancer didn’t care for your shared plans of the future. It spread too fast, too aggressive to even consider the expensive option of chemotherapy. It had taken away the love of his life in the dead of the night, when Levi woke up next to you and realized you weren’t breathing, and he knew what it meant but it didn’t stop him from rushing you to the hospital to try... something, anything that could’ve possibly brought you back to him.

But you were gone.

He always thought that the expensive white dress he’d be buying for you would be a wedding dress, and the sick twisted irony of having to buy you a white funeral dress almost made him want to laugh.

Too soon. You were gone too soon.

The priest’s voice droned on in the background but Levi couldn’t find it in himself to care, his grief-stricken mind numbing his heart to the pain, still broken and hurting at the memory of your death.

“We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of Y/N L/N. A loving daughter, a wonderful friend, and a blushing bride to be.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[blueskrugs]

Tim McGraw | Brock Boeser

ahhhh! this is the first fic of the swift series! I can’t believe I am actually going to try and pull this off for the next five months. I hope you guys like it and big shoutout to @broadstbroskis for being my sounding board throughout all this fic planning and then beta-ing this!

length: 1.6k words

But when you think Tim McGraw,  I hope you think my favorite song

Falling in love with Brock was easy. 

It was the summer before your sophomore year of college, on the precipice of both your lives changing, though neither of you knew it at the time. 

Time seemed to move slower that summer, long sunny days blending into bonfire nights out by the lake, September nothing more than a distant day on the calendar. You watched as Brock’s hair turned more blond and his shoulders turned more tan, hours outside in the sun doing their job. 

You remembered the first time Brock kissed you; you weren’t sure it was something you’d ever forget. You’d spent weeks dancing around each other, learning each other, had spent an entire Fourth of July party practically glued to each other’s sides. It seemed more than inevitable by the time it finally happened.

He called you late one night, woke you up and begged you to meet him down at the lakefront. You went, because of course you did, met him down at the dock, where he was waiting with a pile of blankets in the speedboat his family used. He tossed you one of his UND hoodies with a grin before helping you onto the boat. You settled into the nest of blankets in the prow as Brock carefully steered the boat out from the dock and into the middle of the lake. 

It was a clear night, the stars and the full moon shining brightly against the still, dark lake, and a quiet one. The only sounds filling the air were the quiet hum of the boat’s motor and Brock’s country playlist playing quietly from his phone, neither quite loud enough to drown out the constant buzz of the cicadas. 

Brock cut the motor and came to sit behind you. You rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He was warm and solid behind you, and you were both quiet for a moment, just listening to the music.

“This is one of my favorite songs,” you murmured, as Tim McGraw’s “Humble and Kind” started filtering through the speakers.

“I know,” Brock said simply. You didn’t remember telling him that. You could hear his heartbeat beneath your ear, steady and calm. 

You were caught up in trying to remember when you’d told Brock your favorite song when he shifted a little behind you. You twisted in his arms to see what was the matter, but then he was kissing you, softly in the moonlight, and you didn’t get the chance.

“Wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted after he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. His breath fanned across your face when he breathed out a sigh. Tim McGraw was still playing somewhere behind you.

“I would’ve let you,” you said back.

Brock breathed out a laugh and kissed you again, one hand tangled in your hair, the other still wrapped around your waist.

And I was right there beside him all summer long,  And then the time we woke up to find that summer gone

For all that that summer seemed endless while it was happening, it ended abruptly, shattering the peaceful love you and Brock had been building out on the lake. 

You snuck out one last time, both of you dressed in something other than a swimsuit for once, spent the night in each other’s arms with your bare feet dangling in the lake off the dock, the stars and the moon lighting your way once again.

You weren’t sure you’d ever look at the summer stars the same way when you were older.

Brock went back to UND. Your family moved away from Minnesota. Summer romances were never meant to last, you told yourself, as you left yours in the dust.

Brock promised he would keep in touch, pressed a green UND hoodie into your hands and a goodbye kiss to your lips. You smiled at him, because you knew it would never last, and it didn’t. Brock had other things to focus on, hockey and his future. It was only a matter of time until he forgot you. 

You spent a lot of time wearing that hoodie he gave you in the beginning, more time than you cared to admit. You spent more time crying than you cared to admit, too. You kept wearing it long after it stopped smelling like Brock and summer, until it was almost nothing to you and the comfort of it was gone. Almost.

Brock’s texts trickled to a stop before Christmas, but you couldn’t blame him. You’d always had a feeling that this– whatever this had been– had meant more to you than it had to him.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop following him, though, not even when your friends and family gave you pitying looks, not when UND got booted out of the championship tournament. “He’s just a boy,” they’d say, but they also say you never forget your first love, don’t they? You watched his first NHL game, at home in Minnesota, his first NHL goal, too. And if you cried a little, well, at least there was no else around to see it. 

Years passed, and, slowly, you moved on. Brock’s sweatshirt made its way to the back of your closet. You fell in love again, fell out of love. Stopped loving Brock. You graduated college. You never did go back to the lake, wondered if Brock ever had. If he’d waited for you, or if he’d moved in and found another girl to spend the summer with. For the most part, you forgot about Brock. Forgot about his laugh, about the way he’d roll his eyes when you teased him. How he knew your favorite songs. You did your best to, at least. It was easier said than done for a long time.

But in a box beneath my bed, there’s a letter that you never read from three summers back It’s hard not to find it all a little bittersweet...

You were cleaning out your old bedroom at your parents’ house when you found it. It was a letter you’d written to Brock after that summer, when you were confused and lonely, filled with all the things that you didn’t have the courage to say to his face. It was in an envelope, addressed and stamped, but you’d never planned on sending it. In all the chaos of moving that fall, it had gotten thrown in a box and shoved under your bed to be forgotten. 

You remembered every word you’d written, but you carefully pulled it out anyway. You read that letter again and again over the next few days, always pausing on the last words you wrote before you signed your name: “I love you.”

It was another several days before you pulled out a clean sheet of paper and a pen, wrote a continuation to that letter. You’d loved Brock once, yes, but you didn’t anymore, not in the same way. There were no tears left in this story. He’d always be your first love, and you’d always want the best for him. You just no longer felt your heart break every time you thought of him, and you hadn’t for a long time. 

You hoped that he was happy out there in Vancouver, living his dream.

And there’s a letter left on your doorstep, And the first thing that you’ll read...

“Brock, there’s a letter for you!” his mom called through the house.

“Who sends letters anymore?” he asked, which earned him a smack with the envelope. He took it from his mom anyway. The return address was unfamiliar, out-of-state, and there was no name, but he felt like he’d seen the handwriting somewhere before. He took the envelope out on the back deck with Coolie, carefully slid his thumb under the flap and opened it.

A picture slid out from in-between two folded pieces of paper when he tugged them out. It took only a quick glance at it to tell him exactly who had sent him this letter. It was a picture of the two of you at that Fourth of July party you’d spent together all those summers ago. Brock had spent the entire day trying not to kiss you right there in front of everyone.

Brock smiled at the picture for a moment. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, your hands reaching up to grasp his. You were both laughing at some joke long forgotten. He didn’t even remember anyone taking the picture. He carefully set it aside to turn his attention to the letter. He read in silence as the afternoon sun slowly dipped lower in the sky. Coolie was off somewhere in the grass, having found a stick to chew on.

Brock read the letter, then again. He stared at your name on the bottom of each page for a minute before carefully refolding them. He whistled once for Coolie, who came running, still carrying the stick. 

“Where are you off to?” his mom asked as he made his way back into the house and grabbed his car keys.

“For a drive.”

When you think Tim McGraw, I hope you think of me

The letter was tossed in his glovebox. Brock plugged in his aux, pulled up Spotify, and scrolled all the way down to his country playlist. There was a song on there he didn’t listen to very often, could never really explain why he always skipped it, but right now he clicked on it and turned the volume up.

“Always stay humble and kind,” sang Tim McGraw as he put his car and drive and allowed himself to remember, just this once.

[waywardwrestlewritingwaif]

Raise the Stakes, part 14

Aaaaaaannnnnnd we're done! I literally decided on this ending today and I'm posting it before I start to get THE DOUBTS. I hope you enjoy it and thank you so, so, so much to everyone who's liked/ commented/ messaged along the way.

There's mention in here of an interview that did actually happen a couple of days ago and what's included is pretty much what I've read online. That said, I've embellished some for the purpose of the story, so I'm not claiming to know anything.

Previous sections are on the Master List.

Pairing: David Finlay x OFC x Jay White

Word count: 2,767

Content advisory: other than the usual language, nothing really. Should I be cautioning people about angstiness? Because there's angst.

Thought you should see this.

The toneless message with its link is ruining your day. You can’t stop looking at it, but you don’t want to open the link again because you don’t want David to see it. Not that you have any reason to feel guilty. If anything, he’s the one who has some explaining to do but he also has the biggest match of his life tonight, the one where he can finally put the years of tension and rivalry with Jay behind him. You want to be supportive but you also want some answers.

It can wait, you tell yourself for the hundredth time. You’ll talk about it tomorrow. Or next week. All the time in the world. At least, that’s what you hope.

The whole day, the two of you are together but you have to keep a little bit of distance. Don’t want to get distracted and he has to conserve all the energy he can. Doesn’t stop you from touching each other, of course, but even when you do, it feels like you’re still at a distance. He’s trying not to think about anything except tonight. Or maybe it just looks that way. Maybe he’s thinking about his future beyond tonight, when he moves on. It would be nice to know if he wanted you to move on with him but he’s not letting you in on his plans. Hell, if it were up to him, you wouldn’t even know that there were plans.

You’d expected Jay to have some sort of mocking comments. How come the boyfriend you’re so in love with is giving interviews talking about signing with another company, moving to another state, changing everything about his life, and you don’t know anything about it? How Jay had looked at that interview and immediately known that you weren’t aware of it is beyond you. It’s unnerving sometimes, his ability to figure things out when it comes to you. You suppose it’s one of the reasons he’s always been able to get under your skin and make you do what he wants.

But aside from the initial message, he doesn’t say anything. You think that maybe it was a ploy to see if you’d confront David and start a fight before their match, because that’s exactly the kind of ugly trick Jay loves. When you arrive at the venue, though, you see him getting out of a car at the same time. He doesn’t look scornful, doesn’t shout something insulting, doesn’t strut like a damn peacock in mating season, nothing that you would normally expect from him. He looks straight at you and doesn’t smirk or sneer. On anyone other than Jay White, the look might be interpreted as concern.

Technically, you’re supposed to be there for all the performers but at this point, there’s very little left for you to do. It’s all on them now and if everything turns out to be a garbage fire, it won’t be because of any failings on your part. So you do your rounds to make sure everyone has what they need, knows their cues, gets any questions answered. But you always circle back to where David is and stay for as long as you can before your nerves get the better of you.

And then there’s the one person you should check on, but don’t. You aren’t completely derelict. You check with the people he has around him, you even lower yourself to telling Chris Bey that he can text you if his majesty needs anything. Strangely, you don’t hear anything. You text Jay once to say that you’re available to help. You keep it professional and don’t mention anything about the link he sent earlier, so you’re expecting him to needle you about it, or at least act like you’re useless because you aren’t spending your entire day catering to him. Nothing. You’re almost tempted to go check to make sure he’s not sick because one thing Jay White has never been is one to stay quiet when something is bothering him. Maybe he feels sorry for you, in which case you’d rather he yelled.

You enjoy as much of the show as you can but you spend the last minutes before his match with David, largely quiet, just holding each other’s hands. You walk as far as you can with him and, as his music hits, squeeze his hand extra tight. He turns and gives you a soft, quick kiss before leaning back and doing it again, deeper.

“I love you,” he says, cupping your face in his hand.

“I love you too.”

He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of something. You sound like you’re calling after a train that’s already left the station.

Against your better judgment, you stay where you are. Jay arrives, already acting his part, hands tapping idly on the belt that, in theory, is the reason they’re fighting. You stare at him waiting for him to acknowledge you but there’s nothing. His music swells and he heads out like you’re not even there.

“Just like old times,” you mutter to yourself.

And still.

You watch from backstage as Jay holds his belt up, grinning and preening like he never had a moment’s doubt. You know him well enough to know that’s not true. He keeps cutting looks back at David as if he’s expecting to have to defend himself again, as if he doesn’t believe that he’s truly vanquished him.

The audience doesn’t share his insecurity, cheering him on like he was the hero and David the villain. He’s obnoxious and self-centred but they love him anyway. It makes you feel a little less stupid for the years you’d spent doing the same.

A couple of assistants help David backstage, holding ice to his neck and making sure he doesn’t collapse on the way to the locker room. He looks angry, sullen, and bitter, but not injured, which is a relief. You turn away from the scene in the ring and follow him back to his dressing room, taking over from the dojo students on ice duty when you get there. You don’t speak. You figure it’s better to let him decide when he’s ready.

You’d love to, of course, because despite the fact that you don’t want to make his night worse, it’s becoming unbearable to keep everything inside.

“Where does it hurt?” you ask quietly, picking up a new cold pack.

“Everywhere,” he mumbles.

You hold the ice against his lower back, remembering the awful hit he’d taken on the ring apron.

“You looked great out there.”

“Didn’t feel so great.” He gives you a little smile. “Onward and upward, right?”

“Or southward?” You don’t even mean to say it out loud because this is absolutely not the time to bring it up and certainly not in this passive aggressive way.

“Southward?” He raises his eyebrows like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about but you can see immediately that he does.

“Nothing, it’s ok.”

He sighs. “What’s southward?”

“Do you need another ice pack?”

“Uh oh, sounds like someone’s been reading the dirt sheets.”

“Just making a joke.” You wish you hadn’t brought this up because now you have to try to cram it back into its hiding space in your brain. And you have to suppress the fact that you’re actually kind of angry.

He watches you, trying to gage your state of mind. “Shouldn’t listen to idle gossip.”

That hits like a slap across the face.

“It’s not gossip, David. You did an interview with Wrestling Observer. If people are speculating or have questions, it’s because of what you said yourself.”

“It’s just talking. I didn’t confirm anything.”

He seems a little proud of this, like he’s very clever for getting people talking about what they don’t know. He doesn’t seem to have an issue with the fact that you’re one of those people.

“It’s all there, though,” you murmur. “Talking about how much you want to work in the States, that you want to try somewhere new, that you’re moving to Florida. You’re going to NXT, right?”

He shrugs and avoids your eyes.

“Were you ever going to tell me about any of this or did you figure I’d be able to piece together where you’d gone from news clippings and Reddit posts?”

“Of course I was going to talk to you. Nothing’s final yet.”

“So you were waiting until you bought a house in Florida and signed a contract with another company? Then what? You’d wake me up one morning and just say ‘bye babe, I’ll be living in another state from now on?’”

“The opportunity came up. This,” he gestures to the two of you, “is still really new. I didn’t want to introduce all these complications.”

“David, I’m not some girl you picked up in a bar. We’ve known each other for years. You’ve talked to me before about your contract renewals. Seems like you could have told me something.”

“I was going to tell you something. When I had a better idea of what I wanted to do.”

“You told a journalist, a ‘dirt sheet’ in your own words, that you’re in the process of moving to Florida. That seems like you have a pretty clear idea.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for you to find out. You don’t even read that stuff normally.”

“You’re aware people are talking about this on social media, right?”

He grunts but doesn’t say anything more. It’s infuriating. He looks resentful that he has to explain himself, like he didn’t think this was going to be an issue for you. Finally, he meets your eyes, guilt very clearly evident now.

“I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I’m an idiot, I could have figured out that you’d see something, or that someone would tell you.”

“It is my job to know stuff like this, all other considerations aside.”

“Believe me, I did not want you getting this from some random dweeb on Twitter.”

“I wish it had been a random dweeb on Twitter.”

He looks surprised and then it’s like part of him collapses when he realizes what you mean.

“Got up this morning to a one line text and a link to the article from our old pal. You know, making sure I’m not out of the loop.”

“Asshole.”

“In this case no. Somehow, you managed to cede the high moral ground to a man whose morals are generally nonexistent.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Well, this is hardly the ideal moment to have this conversation, but I want to know if and how you see me fitting into this new life you’re going to have.”

He shrugs a little. “How do you want to fit in?”

The realization hits you hard. “You don’t think this is going to last, do you? You didn’t think I was serious.”

“Wanting is a lot easier than having.”

“Maybe for you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant, it’s just that I… You’re right. I didn’t think I needed to consider you. It wasn’t part of my decision-making process.”

“You’ve been setting this up for weeks. All this has come together at the same time you’ve been with me almost every day. If I wasn’t part of your process, that was the decision right there.”

The two of you stare each other down but there seems to be nothing left to say.

Eventually, you rise to your feet and stammer, “I’m just going to… I need to take a walk or something.”

You wander around the place, watching the crew rushing to pack up. Eventually, you find yourself outside, where the ring still stands, bathed in the glow of the safety lights. It seems forlorn in front of the empty seats but there is still a kind of magic about it. That’s what draws people to this business, you suppose, the feeling of magic.

Since no one else is around, you climb up and through the ropes, kicking off your shoes. You’ve been in one before, but always just to set it up or break it down. You’ve never had an in-ring moment. And there’s a reason for that, which is that you can barely wrestle your way out of your winter coat. But as long as you’re here and you need to do something to take your mind off the sensation that your chest is about to rip.

You run, or jog, from one side to the other, bouncing off the ropes as you do, the way you’ve watched dozens of men doing for years. Although you know the “ropes” are actually steel cables with a plastic coating and you’ve handled them before, it surprises you how much it hurts when you hit them too hard. It’s not the worst pain you have right now.

You pick up speed a little and then practice letting yourself “bump”, a fancy way of saying fall flat on your back. Each time, you knock the wind out of yourself a little but you get right back up and continue your running. Finally, you have enough momentum that you’re able to just roll yourself into a somersault, and sure, it’s not the most perfectly executed thing, but you keep your body straight and you pop right back up. Just like a pro.

“Ta-da!” you say to yourself.

That’s when the tears come. It’s not falling to pieces, but the stew of emotions inside you just starts to leak out. What the hell do you do now?

There are some footsteps behind you, echoing a little in the empty arena, and you see a man’s approaching shadow loom behind you, pushing his long hair back from his face as he crouches down. So you’re not startled when a thick pair of arms wraps around you and you feel his face pressed against your neck.

“Come home.”

You give an unhappy laugh. “Home is kind of a weird concept right now, Jay.”

“You’re always home for me. I guess I was hoping you felt the same way.”

You snap your head to look at him, pulling back enough so that you can focus on his eyes. In all the time you’ve known him, you don’t think he’s ever looked as calm as he does in this moment.

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Yeah, I get to be a target for a while longer.”

“Stop pretending you don’t love it.”

“Sure, I love it. It’s nice. There are other things I love more.” He runs his fingers over your cheeks, cleaning away the remains of your tears. “I’m sorry about sending you that story earlier.”

“All the shit you’ve pulled over the years and that’s the thing you apologize for?”

“Oh I meant I’m sorry that I had to be the one to send it. I don’t want you to shoot the messenger or anything.”

“If I haven’t shot you by now, I think you’re safe.”

He laughs and pulls you back against his chest, kissing down your cheek and neck. Then he stands, pulling you right up with him and letting his lips trail over the crown of your head.

“Come on.” he whispers, taking your hand.

“Wait, I need my shoes.”

You dart over to pick them up and he’s right there to help you into them and to lead you through the ropes and down the stairs. That’s when he plants his lips on yours, firmly, so that you can feel it in your knees.

“I need to go get my suitcase inside.”

“Do you always carry everything with you wherever you go?”

“I’m headed straight to the airport from here. Catching a red eye back.”

“Skip it. Leave tomorrow.”

“Just like that?”

“Sure. I have a really nice room.”

“I know you do, I booked it.”

“Always taking care of me, aren’t you?”

“Oh wow, he noticed.”

He kisses you again, a little longer, digging his fingers into your back, and your body melts against him of its own volition.

“I’m not coming back if everything is just going to go back to the way it was, Jay.”

“I didn’t come running after you because you’re good at managing my schedule.”

You give him a sceptical look but you can't entirely keep from smiling.

“Look at me,” he grins, “I’m a god. Any woman would want me and you have me. You should feel like you won the lottery.”

“Yeah,” you drawl, letting him wrap an arm around you as you walk away together, “I won.”

[snelbz]

Light Up the Ice - Chapter 9

A/N: Well. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, guys, but this story just...wasn’t coming to me for a while. But now we’re back and I am so excited. Since it has been over a year and a half since I updated this one, please forgive us if there are a few details that aren’t perfect from the first chapters. Feels good to be writing my babies again.

Written with @tacmc.

Rowan woke up to the smell of cooking bacon and fresh coffee and he sighed contentedly. It had been two days since the hit that put him out of commission. He was hoping the rest and relaxation he’d enjoyed with his girlfriend would handle it, but it seemed that his body was protesting its natural healing process.

He groaned as he rolled out of Aelin’s bed, smiling when he found Lumi curled up in the hoodie he’d left in her chair in the corner. After giving her a scratch behind the ears, though the cat pretended he didn’t exist, he padded out into the living room, finding Aelin at the stove quietly humming to herself.

“Good morning,” he said, yawning as he pulled out a bar stool and sat down.

Aelin turned, and he was once agIn floored by how gorgeous she was, straight out of bed. That first night, when the fire alarms had pulled them all from sleep, he’d been convinced she’d scrambled to do her makeup before coming out onto the lawn. Waking up next to her two days in a row had proven to him that she was naturally beautiful and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Good morning,” she smiled and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. “Hurting today?”

“Aye,” he said, stretching his arms in the air. He felt every muscle tense in his upper body and before he could say the words, Aelin beat him to it.

“I think you need to give the team trainer a call today,” she said, placing a plate full of bacon on the counter next to her.

Rowan stared at it, wanting to reach over and snag a piece, but was fairly sure she’d catch him when he grunted in pain trying to lift it. Plus, she was dumping nearly a dozen eggs into a skillet to scramble, so he was hoping she’d be feeding him soon enough. He nodded. “I was going to do that today. I was texting with him last night and he said he and the massage therapist could come here today.”

Aelin smiled. “That would be perfect. I have to go

to work in about an hour, so I’ll feel better knowing someone is here with you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You do know I’m a grown man, right? Lived on my own for about seven years?”

Aelin stuck out her tongue and continued cooking at the stove, before setting a plate down in front of him piled high with eggs, hashbrowns and crispy bacon.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” He asked, as she slid onto the stool next to him.

She smirked and said, “Once or twice, but don’t worry. I’ve got a drunk voicemail to listen to if I ever forget.”

She winked and Rowan felt his cheeks heat, but regardless, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead and began to eat.

After his second full helping breakfast, Aelin got Rowan set up on the couch, babying him the entire time, much to his dismay, and he sent a text to the trainer asking him to call him when he got to the arena that morning. Aelin was getting ready and Rowan was playing NHL on his Xbox when the trainer finally called him back.

“Hey, man,” Rowan answered, pausing the game and propping the phone between his ear and shoulder.

Dorian’s voice came through the receiver. “How ya feeling?”

Rowan groaned as he rotated one of his shoulders. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

With a snort, Dorian chuckled. “Have you seen most of the Pirates’ team? They’re ridiculous; all of them are huge, freaks of nature. Rolfe is no exception.”

With a nod, Rowan cringed. He hadn’t realized the captain of the Skull’s Bay Pirates had been the one to lay the hit on him. “Well, whenever you and Sorscha have time, I’d appreciate it if you could make a house call.” There was silence on the other side of the line. “Dor?”

“Sorscha’s last day was Thursday of last week, I had no clue you didn’t know,” he explained. “The new therapist started yesterday.”

“Oh.” Sorscha had been the team’s massage therapist for years and Rowan vaguely remembered rumors that she’d be leaving them. He just never had them confirmed. “That’s fine, how’s the new guy?”

“She is...a piece of work,” Dorian admitted with a sigh. “You’ll meet her when we come by. You free for us to head that way?”

“Yeah, man, the sooner you get me back in working order, the sooner I can get back on the ice,” Rowan replied, debating on saying something about the home game they had that night.

With a chuckle, Dorian said, “Don’t even think about it, man. You’re not playing tonight. We’ll leave in just a bit and see you soon.”

The call ended and Rowan dropped his phone on the couch. He looked at the clock and hollered, “What time are you off tonight, Ace?”

She poked her head out of her bedroom and said, “Four o’clock, why?”

“Wanna go to the game with me?”

Aelin blinked at him. “You aren’t playing, Ro.”

“No,” he said, standing and stretching - and groaning. “But we can go sit in the player’s box and watch.”

“You want to sit next to me for an entire hockey game and hear my commentary?” She asked, grinning.

Rowan’s grin matched hers as he held out a hand, stepping towards her. She placed her hand in his and he gently pulled her towards him. “I promise I won’t be thinking too much about the game with you there with me.”

Aelin ran her palms down Rowan’s chest. “Well, that’s a tough argument.”

Rowan’s grin widened as he leaned down to kiss her. “You’ll go with me then?”

Aelin nibbled on her lip as she nodded. “If you get your ass on the couch and promise to take it easy today.”

He groaned softly. “Fine. If that’s what it takes.”

“Thank you,” she said, rising up on her toes to kiss him once more and turning back to finish getting ready. “You also have to make an appointment with your trainer.”

“He’s on his way with the sports therapist now,” Rowan said, watching her walk back to her room, enjoying every step she took. He really did try to focus on more than just her ass, but the leggings she wore weren’t helping his cause. When she looked back at him as she paused in the doorway, he had just enough time that she didn’t catch him - not that he thought she’d mind.

“Looks like we’ve got a game to go to then,” she winked, and disappeared into the bedroom.

About thirty minutes after Aelin left for the café, Rowan’s phone rang. “Hey, man. You here?”

His trainer and friend’s usually cheery voice was distinctly pissy. “Open up, Whitethorn. I’ve been knocking on your door for two minutes.”

“Oh, shit.” Rowan was up on his feet with a quiet grunt and ran to the door throwing it open. Dorian stood in front of his own apartment door, down the hall. He called, “Sorry, man, I’m staying with my girlfriend.”

Dorian’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re Aelin’s boyfriend?”

Rowan paused and blinked. “Uh, aye? You know her?”

“I grew up with her, we’ve been friends for years,” Dorian said, the light tone returning. “I told the therapist your apartment number and she’s grabbing her table from the car. I should probably call her-.”

“No, it’s fine, I need to grab a few things from my place anyways,” he shrugged, grabbing his keys off the small table by the door. “We can set up in there so I don’t have to move Aelin’s furniture around.”

Dorian snorted. “Good call.”

Rowan unlocked his apartment and let Dorian in, turning on the lights and carefully moving things out of the way. Painfully.

He grabbed one of his least destroyed game worn jerseys and tossed it over his shoulder. He very much wanted to see her wearing it. “Aelin’s coming to the game tonight,” he said, grinning.

Dorian shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

Rowan’s grin only widened.

“Hey, uh, can I come in and see Fleetfoot?” Dorian asked, looking out toward the hallway.

Rowan blinked and said, “I mean, sure.”

They headed back down the hall to Aelin’s apartment, leaving Rowan’s door open for the therapist to carry her gear in. As soon as they entered the apartment, Fleetfoot was bounding towards Dorian, excited like Rowan had never seen her.

Glancing up at Rowan while he rubbed her belly, Dorian grinned. “I gave her to Aelin our junior year of college. I promised if she got all A’s on her finals, I’d get her puppy. Guess who got straight A’s the entire semester?”

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh, smiling and shaking his head. “Sounds about right.”

Dorian’s phone chimed and he stood, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Oh she’s all set up and ready for you. Just head back down here when you’re done and we’ll talk about getting you on the ice again.”

“Aye, sounds good,” Rowan said and left, heading for his own apartment. The door was shut now, but he assumed it was just for privacy. He’d had to get sports massages before. They were basically a glorified regular massage. They focused on specific muscles groups, some quite intimate and quite awkward, but for the most part the etiquette was the same.

A dim room, quiet music or white noise of some sort, a special table covered in a white sheet, and the fact that you typically undress and are under just a towel.

Suddenly, Rowan froze with his hand halfway extended toward his doorknob, as he realized he was about to essentially be naked, alone in his apartment, with a woman he’d never met, as she rubbed her hands all over his body.

He’d had to get sports massages before. Just never while he’d had a girlfriend.

Maybe he should ask Dorian to come in and talk while she worked on him.

With a sigh, Rowan realized he was overthinking things. This was her job and he was judging her before he’d even met her. She was probably extremely professional and he was worrying for no reason.

With a shake of his head, he entered his apartment and asked, “Hello?”

A young woman rounded the corner, wiping her damp hands on a paper towel. Her long, black hair was braided back, and by the time her obsidian eyes met Rowan’s, he was frozen in place. For a moment, she didn’t react, and Rowan couldn’t breathe.

And then her eyes lit up and a small grin spread on her thin, red lips. His blood ran cold. He swallowed. “Maeve. What...the hell are you doing here?”

“Ah, Rowan Whitethorn,” she cooed. “We meet again.”

[inkandpen22]

Young Hearts Divided (1/?)

Pairing: Sirius x reader / James x Female!Reader (this comes later- the tea)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k (she short~think of it as an introduction)

Part Summary: Y/N is a fellow Gryffindor Fifth Year with the Marauders. She has always been close with the boys, especially Sirius, but sometimes they can be bad influences... 

A/N: as always, thank you for reading! If you guys have any suggestions or requests you’d like to see, let me know! I’m down for anything rn :) 

Masterlist

Late! Late! Late! I’m late! I hurry down the steps of the tower into the Common Room. I suppose this is what I get for staying up late listening to muggle music with Marlene. How kind it would’ve been of her to wake me up too when she probably rose like a peaceful princess this morning. I at least would expect Lily to help a friend out! Nope, instead, I’m sprinting through the halls of Hogwarts with one shoe on, my hair disheveled, and my books hardly staying in my hands. I completely missed breakfast and now have to run straight to DADA across the bloody castle! 

Professor Flitwick stops writing on the board and peers over his shoulder when I stumble into the room. My peers whip their heads back and stare at me like a fish in a bowl. Sirius and James are sitting right in front of me with childish grins across their faces. Sirius starts giggling and Remus leans across the aisle to swat him on the arm. 

Professor Flitwick clasps his hands together with a deep exhale. “Miss Y/L/N, it’s on you to join us. Take your seat,” he instructs, gesturing to your empty seat next to Marlene toward the back of the room. 

“Sorry Professor,” I mutter, swiftly sliding into my seat directly in front of Sirius. 

As I pull out a roll of parchment and get settled, Marlene begins to bombard me with her questions. “Where have you been?!” 

“Sleeping!” I snap in a whisper. “No thanks to you!” 

“Dreaming about Bowie?” Marlene giggles, nudging me with her elbow. “Told you he’s stellar! We should listen to him again tonight!” 

“And keep me up all night?” I snicker, looking ahead to scribble down Flitwick’s notes. 

“You still haven’t heard this one group! My cousin sent me-” 

Marlene is cut off as a crumpled piece of paper hits the back of my head. Knowing exactly who it’s from, I ignore the wrinkled ball on the floor by my ankle to catch up on my notes. Marlene picks up the paper, much to my annoyance. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her glance back at Sirius as she unravels the ball. I continue to listen to Flitwick, hoping he doesn’t write me up for being tardy. 

“Want me to read it to you?” Marlene asks, all gushy with enthusiasm. 

“Does what I say matter?” I sass in a grumble, knowing she’ll read it anyway. 

“He wants you to meet him at the tree by the lake after class,” she informs as she scans the sheet. 

“Can’t,” I answer plainly. “I have potions.” 

Marlene sighs in disappointment, glancing back at Sirius with a frown. On my behalf, she writes down my answer and hands back the note. Turning back toward the front, she fiddles with her quill not even attempting to take notes. I, however, am writing like a lunatic struggling to make up for lost time. 

“Oh come on Y/N,” Marlene whines quietly. Her silence lasted about ten seconds. She tugs on the sleeve of my shirt while glancing upfront every so often to make sure Flitwick isn’t looking.  “You haven’t missed a day of class yet this term! Skipping one class won’t kill you!” 

“You’re right,” I mumble, keeping my attention ahead. “But what if McGonagall sees us or literally anyone else? I can’t get written up again! I’ve been to detention twice now this year because of the Marauders. Friends don’t get friends in trouble.” 

She huffs, dismissing my reason as not good enough. “You’re only young once Y/N! It could be fun!” 

“Why don’t you meet him then?” You suggest sarcastically. 

Suddenly, I feel another tap of a ball of parchment this time hitting my back. I take a deep breath to compose myself. If we anywhere else, even the library, I would probably smack the boy. Taking note of my frustration, Marlene cautiously reaches for the ball resting between the back of my chair and my back. She raffles the paper and skims the sheet. 

“Do you want-” 

“Ugh, just read it!” I bark under my breath, but loud enough for Lily and Alice to turn around in front of me. I mutter an apology and they face forward again. It takes every bit of me to ignore the stifling laughter of Sirius and James behind us. 

Marlene clears her throat, making the duo quiet down. Then, she recites Sirius’s note. “We will not be seen. James gave me the cloak.” 

I snicker, shaking my head at the words. “Ha, yeah okay! How does he plan on making Slughorn not mark me inexcusably absent?” 

“He… um…” Marlene stutters. “Good point.” On that note, she scribbles down my answer and leans back to hand the paperback. 

Sirius won’t have a valuable answer, thus will leave the matter alone. He will enjoy his free period doing who knows what with James while I go to potions. Shall I recall the two times I got put into detention because of Sirius Black? Okay, here it goes...

The first time was really for all of the Marauders. I suppose it’s my fault I’m friends with them. They were out late sneaking around with their stupid map to jot down a hidden tunnel Remus had discovered that day. I played watch and distracted Filch long enough for them to run into the Common Room. What that got me was detention from Filch. The boys felt remorseful and thankful that I didn’t throw them to the wolves, especially Remus and Peter. Sirius bought me chocolates and placed a rose on my bed every day for twelve days until I had a full bouquet. 

The second time was after the Gryffindor v. Slytherin quidditch game a few weeks ago. There was a party in the Gryffindor Common Room after the win as per usual. Sirius was drunk and wanted to go for a swim in the lake. I had been rather intoxicated myself, but not enough to jump into a lake filled with all sorts of creatures! Alas, Sirius dragged me from Gryffindor tower and we snuck around the castle to get to the lake. Filch and some of the Prefects were on their rounds, so we had to hide around corners. Sirius would slowly turn the corners first, holding onto my hand to keep me close, just in case. Then, he would glance back at me with a mischievous smirk before booking it down the clear halls. Jump ahead half an hour and we get caught in the Black Lake in nothing other than our underwear by a very disappointed McGonagall, not one of my proudest moments. 

I remember her words exactly. “Mr. Black, why must you pull Miss Y/L/N into your shenanigans? Two weeks’ detention, both of you! You’ll be cleaning classrooms until they’re spotless!” 

The two longest weeks of my Hogwarts career. Well… at some points. Sirius had his moments when he made the hours slip by. There was the time we were cleaning Slughorn’s classroom and had a water fight. We got all of the textbooks wet that Slughorn left out on the desks. Sprout heard us from the hall and walked in on us dripping wet head to toe. Sirius was standing behind me, holding a now-empty bucket over my head. Her face was priceless! 

“Y/N? Y/N!” Marlene pokes my side, snapping me out of my daydreaming. “I’ve been saying your name!” She huffs, holding a new note from Sirius. “What do you want to say?” 

I frown, “what does it say?” 

She rolls her eyes, “I just read it to you... I guess somebody wasn’t paying attention.” 

I mumble an apology and look up at the chalkboard to see that Flitwick has jotted down at least ten more points. I check out for two minutes tops and he does all that?! Forget it, I’ll just copy Lily’s notes later. We all know she’ll have them perfect. James copies her every day during lunch anyway. I sit back in my seat with a sigh of defeat and contentment. I accept my defeat and call it a day. Looking over at Marlene, waiting for her to read me the note again. Impatient, I take the paper for myself and look over it. 

Have Lily tell Slughorn you’re not feeling well. I have something I want to show you…” 

Thinking it over for a moment, I consider the pros and cons. Cons: I could get caught and three strikes don’t look great on my transcripts. I want a career at the ministry, I can’t risk ruining that. Pros: it could be fun. Whenever I allow myself to have free time, Sirius and I have the best time. I mean, even in detention we had fun. He’s one of my best friends here. In fact, he was one of the first friends I made, after Marlene. Leaning forward in my chair, I pick up my quill and scribble down my answer. Marlene peaks over my shoulder, eager to see. 

Okay. 

Keeping a close eye on Flitwick to make sure he isn’t looking, I fold up the paper neatly in my lap. When the professor turns toward the board, I reach my arm behind me, handing the note back to Sirius. While I keep my attention, I feel Sirius’s warm hand glide over mine to take the folded parchment. It lingers there for a mere second, his fingertips grazing as far as my wrist unnecessarily. A faint, uncontrollable smile forms across my lips at the feeling of his touch. Marlene is right, we’re young, I should be living more. I think Sirius can help with that. 

[dreamescapeswriting]

Living Hell ~ MYG [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 4.2K

↬↬↬Genre: Angst, fluffy ending

↬↬↬Pairing: Min Yoongi X Gender Neutral Reader

The internship of a lifetime is what everyone was calling it but you called it your living hell, every day was a whole new way for Min Yoongi to torture you and make you want to quit doing the things you loved but you kept pushing on despite the feeling of wanting to give up. You weren't going to let someone push you aside like that even if it was every day. 

"Y/n!" You looked up from your pad of paper in front of your face to see Namjoon and Yoongi walking towards you, Namjoon had a smile on his face as he walked towards you questioning you on how your song was coming along. Every week BigHit set a task for the winners of the internship to work on songs and present them at the end of the week, 

"Really well," You kept it brief since Yoongi was giving you a death glare that you're sure would kill you given half of the chance but then again you were sure Yoongi would kill you given half the chance. The first time you met him you were sure it was just because you were new to the team and he wasn't sure on you but as time passed and he grew colder to you the more you realised he actually just hated you. 

"Did you hear me?" Namjoon questioned waving his hand in front of your face, you were staring off down into the hallway as though no one had been standing right in front of you. 

"Stupid little child," Yoongi mumbled pushing past you and walking towards his studio, you looked at Namjoon. 

"Sorry I was just thinking of some lyrics." You lied trying to pretend you hadn't heard Yoongi mumbling under his breath, it was something you were used to by now. 

"They have a competition coming up in a few days, they're going to select a few of you to do some work within a limited amount of time. I'm not supposed to tell you but I figured you could use the heads up." You thanked him while he walked off to his own studio, you stayed in the hall jotting down some lyrics to a song you'd been working on in the back of your notebook. Nothing that was ready to be heard yet but it was there if you ever needed something to work on.

"Y/n?! Are you done?" You glanced over at Yoongi who was standing with his head in the door of his studio, 

"Yes." You whispered walking over to him to see what he wanted this time, 

"Good. I need you to go and get all this for me, you'll be able to find it easily enough." He handed you a sheet of paper with a bunch of useless items on it, it looked like he was just trying to send you on a wild goose chase. 

"Why can't you do this yourself-"

"I'd be nicer to me if I were you, I'm the one that's going to be judging your work next week." He licked his bottom lip as he watched you stand up straight at the mention of him being one of the judges for the competition, 

"Then you understand that I need to work on my own things instead of yours..." You were doing your best to be kind to him, you'd been brought up to be kind to everyone you met. Treat people the way that you wished to be treated but Min-Fucking-Yoongi made that extraordinarily difficult for you to be nice to him with everything he was putting you through. 

Since day one he'd made it clear he had a strong dislike for you but you had no idea why. You'd been nothing but kind to everyone that worked in BigHit and Yoongi had been one of your inspirations so it was difficult to have someone you'd idolised for so long hate you without truly knowing who you were. 

"Listen, if you want to make it in this industry I suggest you do what I ask of you." He pushed the piece of paper into your chest and you hurried out of his studio, going to get your car keys from the small office you had been assigned on your first day.

"I'm sure you're all aware by now that there is a competition coming up. This will be the final test for the interns." Bang PD was speaking clearly as he looked over everyone in the room, all of the interns were sitting in front of the room watching him closely and listening for what they had to do. 

"I expect to see work from each of you by next week. People will be leaving us so let this be a warning if your work is anything less than what we expect you'll be forced to leave and your contract will be terminated with us." Swallowing the lump in your throat you wrote down what he was expecting from you all, the types of songs he wanted and how many. You were sure if you put your mind to it you'd be able to get everything he wanted from you and more, the thought of losing this opportunity physically hurt your chest when you'd done nothing but work towards it for years. It had been your dream since you could remember to work with music and BigHit was one of the leading companies that you'd wanted since you were 16. Nothing was going to stop you from working hard to keep this job.

A week passed and you'd tortured yourself trying to keep up with everything, Yoongi had you running around after him like you were his own personal maid. Treating you like a coffee maid instead of a producer who was working within the same industry as him. The only time you got to work on your own music was when it was late into the night and you were locked up in your studio, forcing yourself to stay awake until the unholy hours just to get at least one song done. You were ahead of an intern you knew but you didn't feel it was enough.

Today you were supposed to be working on the final song that would make your work stand out, a song about hardship and pushing through everything someone was throwing at you - you hadn't even noticed you'd written the song about Yoongi, as far as you saw it it was just a song about someone else going through a hard time. Your phone buzzed from beside you as you were about to lay your vocal track down,

[Yoongi]: Need your help in the studio, please.

The emoji he'd sent wasn't like Yoongi at all, a pleading face with a please at the end? It wasn't like Yoongi at all. Yoongi never said please, ever. Maybe he'd finally realised how much he'd pushed you this week and was trying to say sorry for it. You locked your desktop up taking your phone with you towards his studio, it was just up the hallway from yours so you wondered what the big deal could have been when you heard a crash coming from inside his room. 

"Yoongi?!" You panicked pushing open the door to see him standing in the corner of his room with a look of fear across his face, you glanced over at the shelves that were now hanging from the wall, one of them still swinging as it held onto the bracket in the wall. 

"What happened?" Your voice came out shaky and nervous as you stared at them in horror, everything looked like it was broken but repairable or in desperate need of a trip to the trash cans. 

"I was working and they just fell- You didn't do a good job on them!" He snapped at you pointing his finger in your direction, you turned to him. He was bringing this around to you? How had this been your fault when it was his office?

"Yoongi I didn't even install the shelves so would you like to explain how it's my fault?!" You lost your temper for a second but squeezed your thumb between your middle finger and ring finger to try and calm yourself down, bring yourself back to reality where he was your boss and not someone you should talk to that way. Even if he had done nothing but belittle you all week into doing stupid tasks for him. Monday it was running around stores for him to look for a certain writing paper, Tuesday he had you working on his tracks as well as cleaning his shoes, Wednesday he wanted the shelves cleaning so that's what you had done, Thursday he wanted you to take his car to get details and the list went on until today, Friday, the final day you had to work on your own things and you'd done nothing but run around after him like his own personal assistant - who he had you fire because she was 'incompetent' and he couldn't stand her working for him anymore. 

"I asked you to clean everything up there the other day so it's clearly your fault." He spat at you, you looked down at the floor to see shards of broken glass everywhere on the floor. If he wasn't careful he could seriously hurt himself and the thought alone made you anxious, 

"Whatever, I-I'll clean it up." You stuttered out not wanting to have a huge fight about it. Maybe it had to have been your fault you knew you'd cleaned up the shelves the other week but nothing you could have done would have caused the brackets to fall out of the wall the way they had. 

"Can you get me-" You went to asked him to get the dust-pan and brush but he was already out of the room and talking into his phone about something, 

"Fuck." You whispered standing up from the floor and going to find the things you needed yourself. 

"How's your project coming along Y/n?" Jungkook asked as he followed you up towards Yoongi's studio, he'd seen you walking through the building looking for something so he decided to come along with you. 

"I heard Yoongi-Hyung called you to his studio, seems like you guys have gotten really close over the last week." He chuckled rubbing the back of his neck as you walked, you laughed nervously. Everyone had noticed how close you worked with Yoongi but no one had noticed how he was treating you because whenever someone else was around it was as if he was a new person, acting like someone you'd known for years and not someone who was using you to get his own way.

"You could say that." It wasn't in you to bad mouth another person behind their back so you kept your mouth shut and opened the door to the studio, Jungkook's mouth hung open as he walked inside behind you looking around at everything. He was about to step further into the room when your arm reached across his chest to stop him from going any further into the room. 

"Careful there's bits of glass everywhere." You muttered nonchalantly to him as you got down onto your hands and needs to start cleaning everything up as quickly as possible.  

"What happened?" He asked looking at the shelves he frowned staring at them, 

"Yoongi was working when they fell," He scoffed at the word fell and walked over to them being careful not to step on anything that was on the floor but he ran he fingers over the holes in the walls. They hadn't fallen at all, they'd been ripped from the wall anyone could see that. He glanced down at everything at the floor and back up to the shelf as he tried to calculate something in his head, Yoongi had removed everything from the shelves and ripped them down before throwing everything onto the floor but why?

"What did Yoongi say happened?" He was sitting next to you now picking up big shards of glass and putting them into the bin beside you, 

"That he was working when they fell." He nodded looking at your face as you concentrated on not hurting yourself, 

"How much work do you have left to do?" He was sure this was nothing to do with your work and he was imagining things but Yoongi had been off lately but this wasn't like the Yoongi he'd known all these years. Why would Yoongi smash up his own things just to get you to stop working? 

"Not much, I have one song to finish and I'm done, I'll have it finished by presentation time tomorrow." You lied. You'd only have it finished if you stayed late again tonight - by staying late you meant falling asleep on the sofa in your office. 

When you finally made it back to your studio that night you were exhausted, you'd cleaned up every small fragment of glass you could find before you went on the hunt for photo frames that looked exactly like the ones that Yoongi had had on the shelves. You'd even gone to DIY stores to get filler for the walls, filling in the holes waiting for them to dry while you fixed up awards with glue you'd picked up. 

"Yoongi? What are you doing in here?" You asked tiredly as you saw Yoongi sitting on the sofa in your studio, his feet kicked up on the sofa as he looked at you. 

"I came to tell you about your work but you weren't here so I figured I'd wait for you." You frowned at him dropping the bag of rubbish outside the door for the night cleaners to come by and take, 

"What about my work?" You looked at the desktop in your studio to see that it was bluescreened, the sad sarcastic face that windows always had whenever a computer did this was evident on the screen. 

"What the fuck!?" You screamed rushing over to it, tapping on the keyboard to try and get anything to work, 

"It's alright, you backed everything upright?" He questioned smugly looking as you pulled out a USB stick from the back of the PC but it was snapped leaving the metal fragments inside of the computer. Your heart was pounding against your chest and tears rushed to your eyes as you thought about everything that was on the computer and USB drive. Yoongi smirked from behind you as you began to cry silently into your hands, he knew you weren't going to say anything to him so he turned to leave when you finally broke down. 

"Why?" You whimpered turning to look at him, tears were streaming down your face as he locked eyes with you. His chest panged with guilt as he saw the broken look across your face, 

"Why do you hate me so much?!" You questioned looking at him and then at the computer, 

"I've done nothing but work my ass off since I got here! But yet you treat me like I'm nothing, why? What did I ever do to you that was so bad?!" You were yelling, Yoongi had never even heard you talk above your normal tone before and it was shocking to have you yelling at him now. He felt bad. 

"Y/n-"

"No, don't ''Y/n'' me. Answer me, what did I ever do to you? You know, Jungkook told me that you probably ripped down those shelves but I've spent my whole day fixing everything for you, putting them back up and making sure they're level. Replacing everything you smashed up, cutting up my hands." You mumbled showing him your plastered covered hands. 

"Do you want me to quit? Because if so you got what you wanted." You were calmer now which scared Yoongi even more than when you were yelling, you grabbed your bag from the back of the door and walked away from him. 

"I quit. You can have the honours of letting everyone know for me." You walked out of the hallway and onto the staircase of the BigHit building falling onto the step and clutching onto the railing as you sobbed into your hands about everything he'd put you through over your time there.

Yoongi made his way back to his studio looking around, everything was perfectly arranged the way he had it before he'd wrecked it all. The shelves were a little lower than they had been but the holes had to be covered somehow. The trophies he had on display were all fixed back together, you could hardly notice the cracks within them unless you knew they were there and the photographs were back in frames like the ones he owned. You'd done a brilliant job on everything and yet he'd treated you the way he did, he reached into his pocket to take out the real USB stick he'd taken from your computer with everything on it and he put it into his own computer loading everything up onto his system. 

"Yoongi?" He looked over his shoulder to see one of the night security men, 

"Yeah?"

"It's Y/n again Sir, we found them asleep on the steps, what should we do?" He sighed coming out of his office to see you asleep in the arms of another security guard. They'd found you like this a couple of times over the months of you working for BigHit and they always came to Yoongi since he'd told them to whenever they saw you asleep somewhere that wasn't your own studio. Yoongi had found you asleep on his sofa one night and carried you to yours so that you could get some decent sleep. 

"Take them to their studio," He mumbled walking behind them as they carried you towards your room. They laid you down before leaving and he stared at you, the way your brows furrowed together as you dreamt about something you didn't like,

"Yoongi go away," You whimpered in your sleep and he sighed running his hand along your cheek using his thumb to caress your skin as he realised he was the bad thing you were dreaming about.

Groaning as you woke up the next morning you looked around you to see you were in your office, your computer still had the patronising sad face over the screen that made you want to put your fist through the screen just so it would go away. You sat up on the sofa to see a blanket had been laid across your body, a glass of water and orange juice was on the table along with a note. 

Meet me in my studio - Yoongi 

You scoffed at the note throwing it into the bin and running your hairs through your hair, you opted out of drinking the drinks he'd left you and headed to the mirror in your room to try and make yourself look at least a little presentable and not that you'd spent the night on your studio sofa which wasn't even your studio anymore. You were going to quit. You weren't going to take it anymore. Throwing the door open you made you way down the hall ignoring Yoongi's door as you passed it heading straight to Bang PD instead of going to Yoongi like he'd asked of you. 

"You're telling me you're quitting?" Bang PD asked as he looked up from the work on his desk, he was marking through papers with his glasses pressed up against his face, 

"Yes Sir, I know it's short notice but my work, there was an accident with my computer and it's gone. To save a lot of hassle I decided to quit that way you won't have to fire any competent interns." The door to his office opened and closed, Yoongi stood behind you panting heavily. 

"They're not quitting Sir, they're just tired." He was breathing heavily and PD put his pen down onto the table sighing as he watched the both of you bicker back and forth about quitting, 

"Don't let them quit," Yoongi spoke louder than you could and you stared at him as he stepped in front of you and began ranting quickly as though he was rapping,

"Their PC was corrupted last night and I have their original work on a USB stick, there's no need to fire Y/n or let them quit so please just...Don't let them, it's my fault all of this happened, Sir. I took everything Y/n was working on and it's ready for your viewing in the main presentation room."

Bang PD had reviewed everything on the CD while you stayed silent listening to yourself singing on the tracks along with Jungkook and Jimin who were included in some of the songs. 

"This is exceptional work Y/n." Bang PD said as he turned around to face you on the chair, 

"I won't stop you from quitting if it is something you want to do but from what I've heard we would be at a loss without you on our team." You stared down at the floor nodding along to what he was saying, 

"I'll give you some time to think things over," He patted your back leaving you and Yoongi alone in the room, as soon as the door shut you turned to him. 

"Do you think this would fix anything between us? That you presenting my work as if everything was fine would be okay!? Are you fucking-" You were cut off when his lips touched yours, his hands pressed on the back of your head to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widened as you realised you were kissing him, slowly they began to flutter shut as you leant into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. You were kissing Min Yoongi...You were kissing Min Yoongi?! The guy that had made your life hell. You pushed him away from you and shook your head, tearing up as you thought about it. 

"Are you actually insane?!" You spat at him glaring at him as he smirked wiping his lips with his hand, 

"I think that's the best kiss I've ever had, come here-"

"Wipe that smirk off your face, you're deluded if you think that is ever going to happen." As much as you wanted it to it wasn't something that could happen again, 

"You've done nothing but make my life a living hell since I started here, why did you- Why would you-" There were too many questions to ask in such a short time span that you just took in sharp breaths trying to calm yourself down.

"Come on, I know I call you dumb Y/n but I don't mean it." He chuckled walking over to you again, he raised his hand to your cheek but you didn't move away you snuggled your face against it. Your whole body felt warm from the small interaction and he chuckled feeling your cheeks heat up and watched as you skin began to glow, 

"You like me and I like you, what's the big deal?" You moved away from him yet again, 

"The big deal is that you've done nothing but make my life hell, you made me think my work was gone and then magically think it's going to be fixed because I got to keep my job?" You asked him raising an eyebrow at him if he really thought that this was all going to be some magically happy ending he was wrong things like that only happened in the movies.

"Y/n please, I was- I was intimidated by you and you working so hard it scared me...I thought if I could push you down a little and make you work less I wouldn't have to be afraid." You rolled your eyes at the excuse he was spilling out to you and you went to leave the room but his hand was placed on top of yours, you would be lying if you said you didn't feel something there. It was as if there was a huge electric shock running throughout your entire body whenever he touched you.

"I like you, a lot, another reason I made you run around for me so I could see you more often than I normally would...It was wrong okay and I'm sorry but let me make it up to you. Don't run away from me." He pleaded with you, you turned to look at him and sighed. He looked sorry for everything he'd done and he was, he was terrified and felt guilty for everything he'd done. 

"Please."

"How?" You questioned folding your arms across your chest to seem more intimidating but mostly to get your hand away from his otherwise you were about to cave in to him right away. 

"I'll take you out, just us two. Away from all of this so I can prove how much I like you...Please?" You licked your lips pretending to think about it as if you didn't already have the answer 'yes' written in glowing lights above your head.

"Fine. One date and then we'll talk about it..." You whispered looking at him as he walked closer to you, pulling your hand into his and smiling softly. 

"I am truly sorry." He whispered kissing your lips softly as he stepped closer to you.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @taestannie @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c​ @callingmyangel​ @rjsmochii​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @innersooya​ 

[msmarvelwrites]

Vienna Waits

Summary: The reader has a hard time around the holidays because it brings up a lot of unhappy memories. Bucky knows trauma all too well and he’s always there to lend some Christmas cheer. 

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: mentions/flashbacks of assult, ptsd, 18+, swearing, but truly a fluff piece...

Word Count: 2.5k

Authors Note: Hi again! It’s ya girl, back at it again with the plot all to based on her own predicaments. Please read the warnings because the last thing I’d ever want to do is trigger anyone- but at it’s core I wrote this as an aid. Like My Girl, this was written to bring us together, because we are so much stronger that way! This is also my first submission to the Merry Hoemas Challange, so with that please enjoy! Sending love and light to all you beautiful holiday babies.

Thank you to @amythedvdhoarder  @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes @pumpkin-and-pine and @starlightcrystalline for hosting this holiday challange!

It was, of course, the most wonderful time of year. Christmas Eve at the Avengers Compound. 

The snow cascading from the dark sky acted as a sheet of white as you nervously sipped on your tea, checking the time once again. Your best friend was supposed to be back from his solo mission hours ago, and yet here you were, alone and completely overwhelmed. 

He was always better at these things. Always knowing how to avoid the holiday slump with ease. Bucky was who you turned to when you needed a quick coping mechanism. 

Christmas with the world's mightiest heroes had its perks for sure, but this was certainly not one of them. The joyous holiday music echoing through the Avenger hq living room was doing nothing to settle your nerves. In fact, quite the opposite. It lingered around you, pulling memories you buried deep down in the back of your mind. 

“I really think it’s better if I just head home… It’s getting really bad out there and…”

His lips cut you off, lazily trailing down your neck as the taste of bile rose into your throat. He was just drunk, you thought. So were you. You had given him the wrong idea. If you just explained you didn't want him to touch you… 

He would understand, you thought… You really did. 

“Honey, I’m home” Bucky called, cackling to himself as he shook off the snow caked to his winter coat. His voice shot you back into the dimly lit living room you now resided. 

You lunged from the recliner, spinning around the corner to find Bucky, hands full of gift bags and a candy cane dangling out of his mouth as a goofy grin tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Where the hell have you been?” You tried to sound angry, but he was just so damn cute.

“Okay, first of all, you're welcome.” He scoffed sarcastically, gesturing to the gift bags as he placed them on the floor. “And second, you're the one who sent me out in the middle of a snowstorm for last minute christmas presents… So, you get what you get.” He chuckled. 

“No, no, I appreciate you- it… I appreciate it so much Buck.” You stumbled, though you didn't let the blush creep onto your cheeks before you spoke again, “You know how I get this time of year.” You sighed, crossing the room to help him with his bags of gifts. It wasn't lost on Bucky that the holiday season was difficult for a lot of the team, including yourself. Though he didn’t know everything about your past and how it brought you here, to the team, and one of the most ruthless fighters the Avengers had ever seen, he did know it was rough and dark and definitely off limits to talk about. Bucky didn't mind, however. As long as he had you by his side. 

“Ya know, if you help me wrap these gifts there might be a Christmas movie marathon in your future.” He wiggled his brows causing you to laugh. 

“That really sounds like a lose-lose on my end here, Buck.” you giggled.

“Are you by any chance at all into hot chocolate?” he bribed, though you would have caved regardless. Any time spent with Bucky was all you wanted for Christmas. 

Once all the presents were wrapped, Bucky was true to his word, puttering into the kitchen, whipping up his famous hot chocolate recipe. Honestly, if the world knew the famous Winter Soldier was as jolly was he is, they probably wouldn't believe it. Something about Christmas just brought out the best in him. 

“So,” You started as you sipped on your whip cream topped hot chocolate. “What is it about this holiday?” You pried, looking up at Bucky as he wiped a dollop of cream off the tip of your nose. 

“I don’t really know. Getting my memories back after all that time, Christmas with my Ma and sisters was always so clear…” He paused, his eyes fixing themselves on the floor. “I guess it’s one of the only really decent memories I have.” 

You only stared at Bucky for a moment as you let the words sink in. He never really spoke about his family and what, if anything he remembered. You never pushed him, thankful that he respected you the same. Though you had only been friends for a year now, those things just aren't privy to your relationship. 

“You never told me that before.” You finally spoke, watching as his eyes met with yours. 

“Yeah well, it’s hard to talk about sometimes. But… I don't know. I trust you, doll. More than anyone, I think. You kind of pull it outta’ me.” He sighed into that goofy smile you loved so much. You wanted to tell him that there was no one in this world that you trusted more, that you could and would be an open book for him, if that's what he wanted… But you supposed it went without saying. Instead, you rested you head on his shoulder, sinking back into the couch as you watched whatever sappy Christmas movie Bucky had picked out for you to watch. 

It wasn't long before the compound started to buzz with disembodied voices and echoing footsteps. A team was getting back tonight, and soon the living room would be filled with your friends booming laughter. 

You let your mind wander, tiptoeing into the darkest parts of your unconscious as the movie faded further and further away…

Your body shook, hard. You heard yourself plead, begging him to stop. Could feel the tears wet and hot as they rolled down your cheeks pooling onto your chest as he wiped them away. Such an act of kindness in such a nauseating scene. Your whole body ached with how hard you were trembling. So weak. You knew it, and now he did too-

Wanda was the first to round the corner, plopping herself down on the couch between you and Bucky, almost sitting right on your lap. 

“Good evening!” She chimed, resting her head against your shoulder in a complete and utter disregard of yours and Bucky’s closeness. Wanda was always the best at diffusing tension you hadn't even realised was there. Though now, as she sat there, it was very apparent that's exactly what it was. However you were thankful for her halting your train of thought. 

“Hello, darling.” Bucky chuckled as you wrapped your arms around her.

Tony rounded the corner next, snickering when he saw the three of you bundled up on the couch together. “Well, isn't that sweet. The trauma triplets are back together.” 

“Dont hate us cause’ you ain’t us, Tony.” You sang, watching as he rolled his eyes and puttered off to his lab. 

“So, any plans for this evening?” Wanda asked, grabbing your mug of hot chocolate without a second thought and taking a sip. 

“This is kind of it. Most of the team is back home with their family.” You explained, looking behind Wanda's head to Bucky, “Do you have any plans with Stevie?” You asked.

“Nope.” He popped the P. “Just us tonight. Steve’s out on a solo mission until tomorrow morning.” 

“About that… Nat is actually setting me up tonight. A double date, I think? So, it's just you guys tonight.” Wanda spoke sheepishly. 

Bucky and you both gapped at her before you finally spoke, “Traitor.” You glared while she only chuckled, shoving you playfully.  

“You guys will get along just fine without me. Just don’t watch The Holiday until I’m back! You guys know that’s my favourite”

As the compound quieted down for the night, you and Bucky fell into your daily routine of  comfortable silence. It was just like every other day, or at least that's what you tried to tell yourself as the end credits of another holiday movie started rolling onto the screen. 

“So,” Bucky finally spoke, shifting in his seat to reach for something out of your eyeline. “It’s technically christmas now… And, I know we said no gifts, but I saw this and it was just so you. I had to pick it up.”

Your eyes landed on the small velvet box in his hands, your breath hitching in your throat for a moment as your brain forze. You could feel your body trembling as he held it out, waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stare. 

“Such a good little thing.” He finally spoke. Your eyes were so glazed over you couldn't quite tell where his voice was emulating from. You could hear his belt, feel his hands on either side of your face as he whispered in your ear. “Happy Christmas, baby.” He chided, dropping the small velvet box in your hands as he left the room. 

You couldn't bear to touch it, whipping it across the room as it shattered open, the small diamond necklace rolling across the hardwood floor as it tumbled to the ground with a harsh crack. Your fingers burned where the rough velvet had been, and you remembered thinking you'd feel this way forever. 

“Y/n?” Bucky spoke your name and it shocked you back to reality. You blinked at him, tears welling in your eyes as you stared at him. He looked absolutely terrified and it broke your heart. Absolutely tore you apart that you could ever be the reason for that face. 

“Hm? Oh, yes. I’m so sorry, I was so far away there for a moment.” You reached out but before you could take the small box, his hands covered your own and he let his thumb stroke your skin, sending a shiver up your arms and all around your neck. 

“You know I would never judge you, right?” He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. “God knows you've never judged me. I’m here. Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.” 

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. ‘Not your fault.’ Did he know? There was no possible way. You had Fury burn your physiatric evaluation from when you first started a year ago. No one knew. This was a fresh start, and there way no way that- 

“I can see your mind turning, and I just want to assure you, we are good. Okay? You and me, that's easy. It’s always been that way. Whenever you're ready, if you ever want to talk… I’m here, alright? Always.” His voice melted over you like a warm bath, calming you as you met his gaze. There was a sweetness you haven't seen before. It was new and yet there was something familiar about it. Had he always looked at you that way? Surely you would have remembered as it sent butterflies to explode in your stomach. 

He dropped the rectabled box in your hands and you finally felt the weight of it. Definitely heavier than a necklace, though you guess that wasn't really Bucky’s style anyways. 

You slowly clicked the box open, your eyes falling on the small black object resting on the pillow inside. 

“It’s a knife?” You spoke, just above a whisper as your hands traveled over the cool metal looking up at Bucky in surprise. 

Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he explained. “Remember that mission a year back? I think it was one of our firsts.” 

“Vienna.” You chimed, the memory coming back to you now. 

“You stole my knife.” He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. “I remember, I had it in my hand, you ran out of ammo and in a flash it was in your hands. Those Hydra punks didn't see you coming. God, doll. That had to be the hottest-” He blushed, clearing his throat, “I mean, that was the coolest thing I've ever seen. Been trying to find you one like it ever since.”

“Oh, Buck.” You signed, gripping the knife in your hands and effortlessly flipping it through your fingers as it sparkled in the dim lighting. 

“Do you like it?” He hummed. 

“Like it? I absolutely love it… I feel like such an ass for not getting you anything.” You confessed, averting your eyes to the floor. 

You flinched as Bucky’s cool metal fingers tipped your head up, and he tried not to notice, though the reaction wasn't lost on him. He really didn't know about your past, but trauma knew trauma. 

“Darling, this…” He motioned to you, “This is all I need for Christmas.” His voice was like honey in tea, warm and sweet and so smooth. 

“You flirt.” You giggled, shoving him playfully as you placed the knife back in its box and resting it on the coffee table.  

“I would never.” He sarcastically gasped, causing you to laugh at his dramatics. Bucky wasn't truly himself around the others, but you wished sometimes they could see his goofy side. Though it warmed your heart he reserved it for you. 

“What do you say? One more movie before we call it a night?” You asked, relaxing into his shoulder as you clicked through the options. Bucky’s silence caught your attention, pulling you back to his gaze. He stared at you as if startled by your words. 

“What?” You chuckled nervously, raising a brow when he didn't speak. 

“You're willinging requesting we watch a Christmas movie? Are you feeling okay?” He jested, lifting his flesh palm to your forehead as if to check your temperature. You swatted him away, rolling your eyes as you did so. 

“I’m fine. I just…” You watch him carefully as his laughter faded and he focused on you. “I never really thought I could enjoy Christmas. Someone stole that luxury away from me a very long time ago, but with you… With you it comes so easy. I know it must be hard, but you never let it show. I honestly can't tell you the last time I’ve properly laughed like that during the holidays. God, it's been years and yet here we are. You just pull it out of me.” 

Bucky smiled softly, holding his hands out for yours and you quickly accepted the gesture. His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned pulling you into his chest as he hugged you. It was something that was very new, and yet just felt right. Like this was how your bodies were meant to be, fit together like puzzle pieces. 

“Doll, I’ll pull it out for you whenever you want.” He cooed, sarcasm lacing his words and your head fell back, laughter bubbling out of your chest. 

“God, I love you.” You finally got out, but as soon as the words left your lips you knew how impulsive you had been. Bucky stilled beside you but you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling above, terrified to meet his gaze. It wasn't a big deal, just two friends admiring each other. You knew, however if you were honest it was much more than that. Bucky felt it too. 

“Darling,” He murmured, so low you almost didn’t hear him. Your eyes slowly returned to his as your heart nearly jumped from your chest. “You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since Vienna. You’re it for me. Always have been, I think.” 

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of where your voice went as your mouth ran dry. 

“As if I even need to say it, I love you too.” 

Divider made by the wonderful @chrissquares 

Thank you 3000 to my amazing friends @cutie1365 and @sweeterthanthis for their endless support and constant grammatical corrections. I’d be forever dyslexic without you guys... (I kind of will I think, but ya’ll make it a hell of a lot easier on me)

Taglist:

@sweeterthanthis​@cutie1365 @whateveriwant @drabblewithfrannybarnes @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares @pumpkin-and-pine @starlightcrystalline @kalesrebellion @projectcampbell @calwitch @sycochick @sassy-pelican @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @amateuratheart @officialmarvelbaby @a-really-bi-girl @fairislesheets

[lost-in-the-80s]

Bloodletting part II - Prologue

Words: 1,820k

Summary: Guns n Roses are already known for being dangerous, but how dangerous would they be if they were vampires? Would it be a wiseful decision to fall for one of them?

A/N: Next week the x reader part will start! I’m making a playlist inspired by this (sorry, I just couldn’t hold myself sjdhs). I’ll be posting one part every Tuesday. Also, from now and on, tag list will be at the end of the fic :)

Some initial information: this series will take place in 2020, but without the pandemic. If you already read part 1 (which was posted last year) please ignore any pairs that the boys have had (Slash’s case), here they are all single.

Moodboards | Part I | Part III

Los Angeles, 2016.

“What the fuck died in here?” Izzy asked as he entered Axl’s victorian house in Los Angeles.

It was night outside and all the curtains were closed, putting the entire house in complete darkness. If Izzy wasn’t a vampire, he surely wouldn’t be able to see anything.

The smell of blood and something decomposing had caught his nostrils as soon as he opened the door, making him cover his nose with his hand.

“I did.” Axl’s hoarse voice came from upstairs, he wasn’t yelling, he knew his friend could hear even his breath from the floor below.

Izzy rolled his eyes, starting to climb the stairs. “Yeah, but it was almost a thousand years ago.”

Reaching the second floor, Axl was sitting on the floor, a bottle of Scotch Whisky in his hands as his shirtless figure looked at his friend.

“Shit, when was the last time you took shower?” Izzy wrinkled his nose in disgust.

The redhead shrugged. “Am fuckin tired, Iz.”

“Don’t tell me you’re in that I Hate Myself phase again.” The brunette started walking through the corridors, going in the direction of the decomposing smell that had gotten stronger.

“I fucking do! I hate what I am.”

“It’s useless to hate yourself, we already talked about it.” He stopped in front of a door, the smell was definitely coming from behind it.

“And what am I supposed to do, Isbell?”

Izzy opened the door, covering his nose one more time when he saw the dead body of a girl inside, she didn’t look older than 25 and was dead for at least a couple of hours now. A human would never be able to smell her though.

“Axl, if I know you well, and I like to think I do, this happens every time you’re alone.”

“I’m always alone, Isbell.”

“I told you to go to New York with me last year.” He closed the door, moving closer to the redhead.

“I’m not going to fucking New York.”

“And what are you going to do then? Kill yourself? You know that it’s impossible.”

“Believe me, I know.”

Izzy frowned, squatting down in front of him, a circular bruise on his chest indicated that he had shot himself there, not so long ago.

He shook his head. “When did you do it?”

“Last night.”

“How did it feel?”

“I passed out. Woke up a few minutes later and it fucking hurt, I had to take the fucking bullet out of it. Wasn’t nice.”

“At least it’s almost healed.”

“I’m fucking tired of not feeling anything. Not even this fucking whisky can make me drunk anymore.” He threw the bottle on the other side of the corridor, its glass hitting the wall and breaking in many pieces.

Izzy rubbed his forehead. “That’s it! Pack your stuff, you’re going to New York with me.”

“I’m not fucking daeing that.” He got up, entering his office and getting a cigarette in his wooden box.

��You’re becoming reckless. There’s a body in your house and at some point, someone will miss the girl. It’s not 1720 anymore, they have cameras everywhere now, it’s a matter of days until they find you.”

Axl looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

Izzy removed his blazer, placing it on a chair in front of the desk and removing his tie. “I’m gonna take care of the body, be ready when I’m back.”

---

The flight to New York was quiet, Axl was too proud to thank his friend for helping him and Izzy was in his own world, enjoying the silence in the first class while drinking some gin.

Arriving in the city around midday, they were quite a sight. Izzy in a suit with a long and expensive grey coat over it, matched with his black sunglasses and grey-black hat, while Axl wore a pair of black ripped jeans and a leather jacket, also wearing black sunglasses.

It was winter in New York, as they walked towards the uber who would drive them to Izzy’s new house in the city. A three-floor gothic construction from the XIX century, which he had sent some pictures to Axl via letters, since Axl refused to have a cell phone.

“What the fuck are you doing in New York after all?”

“Business, Axl.”

He knew that Izzy had business in many places, he always knew what to do with his money, no wonders why he was the richest vampire he knew. But the fact that Izzy changed Amsterdam for New York was still something he couldn’t justify.

“And why moving here?”

“There are some cool people around.”

“Since when dae ya care about who’s around?”

“I do feel lonely sometimes too, Axl.”

And then silence was spread in the car again.

After almost an hour, they stopped in front of a huge house, its walls were in exposed brick and the garden in front had some trees that had lost their leaves with the cold weather.

Exiting the car, Izzy stopped on the sidewalk, getting a cigarette from his pack and offering one to Axl, which he silently thanked. He lighted both cigarettes before speaking up:

“There will be some people inside, I want you to be cordial to them.”

Axl scoffed. “And since when ah umnae cordial?” He passed through Izzy, stopping in front of the front door while waiting for the brunette.

Izzy rolled his eyes, but opened the door. The house was in the same way as when he left, the smell of old books and wooden, mixed with a little alcoholic scent, along with a small hint of blood coming from the freezers in the basement.

“Hello, Izzy.” A blonde guy, smaller than them, approached the two of them, he was coming from the kitchen and there was a huge smile on his face. “You must be Axl.”

Axl looked him up and down, scanning his figure. He wore blue jeans and a red bomber jacket.

He can’t be older than 20, Axl thought to himself.

“Ya, I am.” He passed through the blonde, looking at every piece of the house. “Where’s my room, Izzy?”

“Hello, Steven.” Izzy chose to ignore the redhead, moving towards the fireplace room.

“How was your trip?”

“It was good, Steven. Thanks for asking.”

“Is he English like you and Slash? He sounds different.”

Axl averted his eyes to the blonde, with a mortal glare. “Ah umnae fucking English. I’m Scottish!”

“Oh, sorry! Well, but you are all British, so it’s almost the same thing right?” He smiled, trying to start a conversation.

“Izzy, what is this bampot talking about?” Axl started to move towards Steven, but Izzy stopped him.

“Control yourself.” He gave Axl a stern look before taking a long breath.

“You must be Axl. Nice jacket.” Another blonde showed up, he had a pack of chips in his hands and he entered the room. He was taller than the rest of them and looked like he was 21 or 22. He wore black jeans and a denim jacket on top of a grey sweater.

“Yeah.”

“I’m Duff.” He pointed to himself before throwing himself on the couch.

“The guy in the library is Slash, he’s English too.” Izzy pointed towards the library, to which Axl only nodded in understanding. “Come, I’ll show you your room.”

Picking up his suitcase, Axl followed him up the stairs, lots of old pictures of Izzy and his friends were on display on the wall, and Axl almost smiled when he saw a picture of the two of them together.

Izzy stopped at the end of the corridor, opening a door on his right side. Inside the room, the walls were in a cream color and the furniture, the floor was in the darkest shade of wood Izzy could’ve found. There was a huge bed with white sheets and a white big bathroom, with a big mirror inside. The room’s windows gave Axl a view of the front yard and the street.

“Good enough for you?” Izzy asked.

“Ya.” He placed his suitcase on the floor and sat at the edge of the bed, watching as Izzy sat on the white armchair in front of the windows.

“Why did you go after me, Iz?”

Izzy took a deep breath, inhaling the last of his smoke. “I had a dream.” He exhaled the smoke. “You were in a lake and you were drowning, and you didn’t seem to make a move to get out of there.” He paused for a second. “I thought something was wrong with you.”

Axl nodded, staying in silence for a while before speaking up again. “And who are these people?”

“I met Slash on the plane to here, we were sitting next to each other, and we obviously knew what we were. He turned out to be a nice guy, but he had nowhere to stay here, I told him he could stay with me for a while.”

“And what about the other two?”

“Duff’s the owner of a bar, not too far from here, he’s cool, introduced me to some nice music. He used to live in the apartment on top of it, but it needed some reforms, and he’s staying here ever since the reform started.”

“And when will the reform be over?”

“They finished it about 3 months ago.”

“Why is he still here then?”

“Because we’re friends, just like Steven, who’s a friend of Duff’s, he was here all the time, and then I simply decided to tell him to stay permanently.”

“Since when do you care about friends?”

“I know that you’re in a terrible mood, and that the idea of living with other people is strange for you after so many years living alone. But the thing is: we all want the same thing Axl.”

“And what’s that?”

“A family.”

Axl stared into his eyes.

“It’s the only thing we can’t have, and even though we are very different, we are a family, or a clan, or whatever. We miss having people who care for us around, and we miss the feeling of belonging to something. You’ll understand it, not today, but you will some time, and then you’ll be thankful for having these people around you.”

Izzy got up, leaving the room and closing the door behind him, leaving Axl to think about his words.

---

Turns out that Izzy was right. In the first weeks, Axl would stay on his own, only joining during their daily meal and not saying a word. But after a while, he started to loosen up. He and Duff got really along, and he made Axl see the good part of Steven's and Slash’s personality.

And now, after four years living together and being this so-called clan, they learned how to coexist with each other and ended up becoming close friends, or even brothers, Steven dared to say. And in their own weird way, they became a family.

Tag list: @roger-taylors-car @ladieswttda @teasid @metalheartofgold @slashscowboyboots @ginny-rose-sixx @rumoured-whispers @bigdaddylars @dynamitebabe @tuffduff @mitchgrassified @gamsbeans @hooloovooblue @normatural @axlsbabygirl @mudkicker @dazeduchess @izzysjujuhounds @pinkpatiencecreepers @smokeandmirrorz

Add yourself to my tag list :)

[potrix-the-queerschlaeger]

kickstart my heart

The sequel to boys boys boys that has been requested. You were right, peeps, we definitely needed some Sam/Bucky fluff. So, here you go.

This can also be found over on AO3.

*

1

Sam’s so absorbed in his text conversation with Sharon—there’s always some crazy shit going down in Madripoor—that it takes him a while to notice that Bucky hasn’t returned with their refills yet.

The coffee shop isn’t busy, so he quickly spots Bucky by the register, and has to snort when he realises what’s going on. Bucky’s got a hip propped against the counter, casual and loose, and is smiling sweetly at the barista, dimples out in full force. Sam’s too far away to hear what’s being said, but the barista’s cheeks are flushed, and as Sam watches, his hand slowly, carefully moves closer to Bucky’s until their pinkies just barely touch.

It still catches Sam by surprise, sometimes, to see Bucky like this, confident and at peace with himself. Laughing freely at whatever the barista is saying, eyes crinkled at the corners, and smile flirty when he answers back with something that has the barista duck his head, giggling shyly.

Bucky’s always been gorgeous, Sam will freely admit that to anyone but the man in question, but Bucky content and happy is something else entirely.

“Do not ruin this place for us,” Sam warns, just loud enough that he knows Bucky’s enhanced hearing will pick it up, “they have the best carrot cake in the city, man.”

Bucky never looks away from the barista, but he does flip Sam off behind his back, so he definitely caught it.

(Watch out for the break!)

Chuckling to himself, Sam picks his phone up again. Sarah’s sent a series of adorable pictures of Cass and AJ, and Sam is gushing over them like the loving uncle he is when a steaming cup is set down by his elbow. He looks up as Bucky drops into the chair across the table, eyes immediately zeroing in on the plate in his hand.

“Special delivery,” Bucky teases with a quiet laugh, and pushes the giant piece of carrot cake towards Sam. “You’re welcome.”

Sam’s heart flutters traitorously.

2

“I am a trained medical professional, Sergeant Barnes, I can assure you that I know what I’m doing.”

Bucky doesn’t stop glowering at the doctor, looming over her back as she finishes up with the stitches on Sam’s forehead. Sam hisses when she ties off the last one, and Bucky breathes out something that sounds suspiciously like a growl.

The doctor doesn’t seem fazed. Sam shoots her an apologetic smile anyway.

His wrist is badly sprained, she tells him while she puts it in a brace, and he’s bruised pretty much all over, but there are no more serious injuries to worry about. As soon as he’s cleared to leave, Bucky’s right there with an arm around his waist, snatching the bottle of painkillers the doctor holds out with a glare.

Sam can see the doctor trying very hard not to roll her eyes.

He nods off on the drive home, head on Bucky’s shoulder, and barely wakes up enough to stagger up to his apartment with Bucky’s guiding hands on his shoulders. He’s deposited on his bed, dozing lightly until Bucky returns a few minutes later with a glass of water, and helps him sit up enough to swallow one of the painkillers.

The last thing he hears before he falls asleep again is Bucky tugging and cursing at the laces of his boots.

It’s dark out when Sam wakes up again, tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, and panting wildly. His hand is trembling when he rubs it over his wet eyes, and he has to clench his teeth against the sob he can feel bubbling up his throat.

He startles when his bedroom door creaks open, and watches in sleepy confusion as Bucky makes his way across the room towards the bed. Bucky is warm and solid when he reaches out for Sam, hands gentle as he pulls Sam close, and Sam is too exhausted to question anything, just lets himself be tucked against Bucky’s side, head on his chest.

Bucky tugs the sheets up and over them without a word.

Sam breathes out shakily, fingers curling into Bucky’s shirt, and closes his eyes again.

3

Joaquín’s face as he walks out of the plane is very telling.

“So, the good news is,” he starts, grease-streaked hands on his hips, “I can fix the engine. Well. I think I can. Probably.”

Sam and Bucky exchange a sceptical look.

“Rude,” Joaquín sniffs.

Sam quirks a brow at him. “I’m assuming there’s some bad news, too?”

“There’s always bad news,” Bucky mutters, which is, more often than not, true.

He shrugs off his combat jacket, and Sam gets momentarily distracted by the way his damp undershirt clings to his abs. Joaquín clears his throat, mouth pursed in amusement when Sam turns back to him.

Sam narrows his eyes at him. Joaquín just grins back.

“Well?” Bucky demands.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, so,” Joaquín grimaces, “I don’t actually have the parts I need—”

Sam and Bucky groan in unison.

“—but! But I managed to get through to HQ, and they’ll airdrop everything I need.” He pauses, looking shifty, before he adds, much quieter, “In about eight hours.”

“What the fuck,” Bucky hisses, at the same time as Sam yells, “Eight hours?”

Joaquín spreads his arms wide, gesturing around them. “Well, I mean. We are in the middle of the jungle, you know?”

Which, unfortunately, is also true.

With not much else to do but wait, they decide to set out and explore the area around the crash site. The plane is stocked with emergency rations that will last them for a while, but they’re low on water, and in this heat, that could become a problem pretty soon.

The universe, mercifully, decides to give them a break, and they find a small lake after only about half an hour of searching. Sam whistles appreciatively, and Joaquín actually pumps his fist, whooping, “Nice!”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, but immediately starts kicking off his boots.

“Uh,” Joaquín says, unsure, peering into the seemingly calm lake. “Do you think that’s a good idea? We don’t know what lives in there.”

Bucky only snorts at that. “I think I can handle an alligator,” he declares, pulls off his shirt, and, with a wink in Sam’s direction, dives headfirst into the water.

“So.” Joaquín eyes Sam with a mischievous little smirk on his face. “What’s going on here? Anything you wanna tell me?”

“That you’re way too nosy,” Sam shoots back, but has to smile when Joaquín just laughs, and nudges their shoulders together.

“You seem happier, though, lately,” Joaquín goes on. “Both of you. So, you know. Good for you, yeah?”

Bucky choses that moment to resurface, wet chest glistening in the sun. Sam can’t help but stare, just for a moment, as Bucky stretches his arms over his head with a happy little sigh.

Next to him, Joaquín starts cackling.

Sam decides to push him in the lake.

He’s pretty sure Bucky will save him if there really are any alligators.

+1

Sam is picking up cups and paper plates around the yard as the party winds down, absently humming along to the music that’s still playing softly from inside the house. The sun has set a while ago, but it’s summer and still pleasantly warm outside, and the faint glow from the porch lights is just enough to see where he’s going.

It’s quiet and peaceful, and Sam smiles to himself as he ties off the trash bag.

Last year, on the 4th of July, he’d stood in front of hundreds of people, talking about Steve’s biggest achievements and sacrifices as if his loss hadn’t still been fresh for him, too. As if he hadn’t been grieving for a friend, instead of an international icon and hero.

This year is different, though. Today has been good. Very good.

Sam had, politely but firmly, denied to speak at any memorial services or ceremonies, had announced that he would be incommunicado for the week, and had packed up his shit to spend the holiday with his family in Louisiana.

His wings are stowed away, his phone is off, and he won’t have to talk to anyone from work for at least another few days.

Well. Almost no one.

Bucky’s just vanishing around the corner upstairs when Sam steps into the house, Cass in one arm and AJ in the other. They’re definitely getting too big to be carried around like this, something Sam’s back reminds him of whenever he does it these days, but something about seeing Bucky do it has Sam feel warm all over.

He can hear one of the boys murmur sleepily, and then Bucky say something that has both of them giggling tiredly.

Sam breathes out shakily.

It’s no wonder Sarah’s been making fun of him ever since he arrived with his unannounced guest in tow.

“Hey.”

When Sam glances up, Bucky’s standing on the stairs, only a few steps up, watching him with his head tilted curiously. “The boys want you to go say goodnight to them.”

Sam nods, absently licking his bottom lip. Bucky’s eyes track the movement.

“Buck,” Sam whispers, and when he holds out a hand, Bucky takes it without hesitation, letting himself be pulled close. “Can I—”

Bucky’s, “Yeah,” is pressed against Sam’s mouth, his lips soft and warm. Sam kisses back for a moment, before resting their foreheads together with a shuddering sigh.

“Wait up for me?”

Bucky nods, pecking him on the cheek. “Okay.”

He squeezes Sam’s hand, lingering, then lets go to join everyone else in the living room. He says something, too low for Sam to make out, but it makes Sarah laugh, loud and excited, and Bucky chuckle deeply in response.

Just a regular, normal holiday weekend with his family, Sam thinks as he moves up the stairs, absently touching his cheek.

All of his family.

[cheesy09]

Reminiscing Times

Annnnd... it’s the 13th of January!!! 🥳 Happy Birthday Victor, you soft, tender, capitalistic CEO!!! May you receive abundant happiness this year and the next as well!! And P.S. Victor, please don’t keep wine and spicy food away from me, I beg youuu! 😭

Summary: The melody from a piano carries memories from the past. Victor thinks back to the day she came crashing back into his life and turned his whole world upside-down. He couldn’t imagine a world without her after that.

Pairing: Victor x Reader Word Count: 1,556 Genres: Fluff

“Wasn’t today fun?” You asked Victor as the two of you walked into his house, hanging up your coats and scarves. The way you were radiating happiness was tangible, and Victor caught sight of it easily. 

“Well, it was certainly... something,” he said as he gently brushed his hand through your hair, smoothening down your strands. The feel of his fingers in your hair sent lovely tingles throughout your entire body. Victor’s lips tugged up slightly and he closed his eyes, his smile a little helpless. “I never expected you to invite my father and Aunt Grace all the way to Loveland City.”

Thinking back to the two people who had been all too excited to be at Souvenir for their favourite CEO’s birthday, you gave Victor a warm smile. “I wanted this day to be special for you and I thought calling them and spending time at Souvenir’s along with Mr. Mills would be a wonderful idea. Of course, I didn’t force them, but I was so glad they could make it.”

The two of you walked into the living room and sat down on the couch together, making yourselves comfortable. He hooked a finger through his tie and loosened it slightly, letting out a soft sigh in the process. Looking at his dark tousled hair and his calm, relaxed appearance made your insides feel warm and fuzzy. You would have been satisfied to just prolong this moment of tranquility between the two of you... but you weren’t done yet!

“Hold on! I’m not done yet!” you declared as you walked over to the piano. You picked up the brown envelope you had placed on it earlier that day and spun around to face him with a giant smile on your face. “Ta-da!”

Victor raised an eyebrow. “What is it now?”

“It’s your present,” you stated, matter-of-factly, while opening the envelope and pulling out its contents.

“I know that, dummy,” he replied, his trademark nickname for you coated with a layer of affection. “I’m asking what the present is.” 

Faced with the question, you suddenly grew slightly bashful. “Th-that is... um...”

Seeing your shy appearance and the way your eyes flitted all around the room, Victor frowned, his beautiful eyebrows scrunching up together slightly. “You sure picked a strange moment to get so strangely shy.”

Your cheeks reddened even more. “I-I’m not shy!”

You couldn’t help it. You had been working on this present for him ever since his last birthday. You had had multiple setbacks and there were even times where you wanted to give up, but you persevered, because that was what Victor would want you to do -- never give up. He made you feel strong and beautiful; to make you a better version of yourself. So this present which you had written out and practised with so much love and affection was the least you could do for him.

“W-well, I... wrote you a song,” you managed to get out. You looked at him, wondering if he was going to give you some snarky comment or other, but you were surprised to be met with his surprised face. His eyes were wide, and beheld a slight sense of purity and innocence. You would never tell him, but he actually looked cute like that.

“You...” Before Victor could continue his statement, you immediately cut him off, sitting yourself at the piano in a fluster. You arranged the music sheets in front of you and said, “I’m not sure how it turned out ‘cause I wanted you to be the first one to hear me play, and this would be my first time composing music, but...” You turned to him and met his eyes determinedly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I tried my best. So, I hope you like it.”

Turning back to the piano, you took in a deep breath to calm yourself down and began playing. The melody started out heavy, at a lower key, reminiscent of the time the two of you first met, when your company was about to go bankrupt. At that time, you never imagined that your future investor would also come to become the most important person in your life; someone you didn’t want to live without, no matter the cost. 

Slowly, the melody became lighter, softer, gentler... just like a certain CEO. Your fingers danced across the notes, bringing to your mind memories spent in his office to hand in reports, times you managed to drag him out for events he probably wouldn’t dream of being at otherwise, those moments in time where he’d offer you those rare, precious smiles; smiles reserved only for you. All the difficult times you’d been through, times you’d thought your life was falling apart... he’d always been there, watching you and supporting you with the gentlest affection. 

You hoped to convey all your feelings -- the love and gratitude you felt towards him -- into this composition that was crafted only for him.

After you were done and turned back to face him, you found that Victor had already fallen asleep.

“What? He fell asleep?!” You whisper-shouted to yourself, completely stupefied. You couldn’t believe this man! He sure had some gall to fall asleep when you had poured your heart out into that piece just now!

You walked over to the couch and sat down next to him, watching his gentle sleeping face with a soft smile. His long eyelashes cast shadows across his cheeks, and the living room lights caste a faint glow on him that made him look dashing and splendid. You remembered the first time you came over to his house and giggled at the memory. He had fallen asleep to the sound of the piano then too.

Giving into an urge, you leaned over and brushed your lips against Victor’s cheek, the feather-like kiss sealing a moment in time.

You cuddled into his side and rested your head against his shoulder. You closed your eyes, listening to sounds of Victor’s deep breathing. Your heart beat slowed down to a rhythm that matched him. 

“Happy Birthday, Victor,” you whispered, content on saying the words even if you knew he couldn’t hear you.      

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

For some reason, his name sounded special, whenever she was the one who said it.

Victor didn’t know when he started thinking about baseless, sappy nonsense like this. When he stopped putting his work on such a giant pedestal and started to look after himself more often because she would worry if he didn’t. When things around him started to look a little... different. Even the colour of the sunset looked different. Brighter; more orange, and yet softer at the same time.

All he knew was that all of this was possible only after she re-entered his life.

She was like a shooting star. She had re-appeared before him so suddenly, so instantaneously. At that time, he still wasn’t aware it was her, the girl he’d been seeking for all his life, and had unknowingly continued that maddening, desperate search for her. But despite not knowing her true identity, he still felt this inexplicable attraction towards her, like a moth to a flame. She showed him wonders he’d never seen before, made him feel things he never felt before and even granted him the gift of wishes.

After his mother passed away he didn’t think wishes could ever come true.

But she defied that. Her very existence had become the embodiment of a fervent wish he had made ever since he fell in love with her.

‘--ictor... Victor...” A gentle hand shook him awake, and Victor blinked opened his eyes only to be met by her big, starry ones and Pudding cradled against her chest. She smiled at him. “Oh good, you’re awake. I was a bit surprised when I found myself awake even before you.”

“You fell asleep too?” He asked, sitting up straighter against the couch, adjusting his shirt in the process.

“Yep. But Pudding here ended up waking me up,” she grumbled as she brought the furball up to her face and playfully rubbed their noses together. Then her features turned stern and she looked chastisingly at the cat. “Listen, Pudding. Never ever put your paw on someone’s mouth, especially if that person is sleeping.”

“It probably did it because a certain someone was busy snoring in her sleep,” Victor smirked, his tone mixed with mirth.

“I wasn’t snoring!”

“And how do you know that?”

“Well... I didn’t wake you up, did I?” He could tell she was struggling to come up with excuses and Victor chuckled to himself, his heart pounding with warmth. “I never said you were snoring loudly. Cats have very sensitive ears after all.”

“Ya-well... I... um... uh...” Her cheeks turned a bright rosy red, clearly flustered. Victor watched on in amusement as she sighed in frustration. “You always have to have the last word, don’t you Victor?”

He laughed and stood up, ruffling her hair in the process. It was easy to find himself relaxed with her, and honestly? Victor wouldn’t have it any other way. “Come on, dummy. It’s dinner time.”

It was another unforgettable birthday. And it was all because of her. 

“Oh, and also. The song you wrote? It was... really nice.”

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※─── 

Thank you so much for reading. For more of my works, you’ll find them in my Masterlist :D    

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH16

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 16: Journey (First Half) {cw: parent death}

Across the polar ice sheets and mountains and rivers, the aircraft landed in an oasis on the border of the Sea of Tranquility desert. If you continued on, you would enter the domain of the Dragon Ant Queen. This aircraft that didn’t have any loyalty markings could not enter. Her field hung over this desert, and outsiders had to walk through the desert to find the legendary valley and enter her underground kingdom.　

Dozens of tribes, large and small, lived near the valley of the Underground Ant City. They lived in simple grass houses built of reeds and desert poplars, and lived a hard life tending sheep, but they had built luxurious tombs for generation after generation of Dragon Ant Queens.

During the demon invasion over 20 years ago, they survived under the protection of the Dragon Ant Queen. Although tribespeople were killed from time to time in the evil tide every month, they still stubbornly survived and had continued to this day.

The successive Dragon Ant Queens represented the neutral force between the humans and demons. She didn't make enemies with the Holy See, and sometimes even protected human beings, but her identity as a devil makes her position subtle and suspicious. Human beings once feared her, but when the human world was devastated by the wanton invasion of demons, the Underground Ant City she ruled became a land of sin where humans would survive. There, demons coexisted with human beings, and though they were hostile to each other, when the evil tide came every month, they were forced to unite to fight against this test of life and death.

The yellow sand covered the sky, the wind was roaring, and this withered land groaned and sang in despair.

The guard of the Valentines tribe who was on rotation narrowed his eyes. He saw a figure in the swirling yellow sand that was coming towards him. He suspected that he had mistaken the stone forest as a figure and he couldn't help blinking hard, trying to squeeze the sand that captivated his eyes aside. But when he opened his eyes again, the figure was just ahead.

He was wrapped in a white robe against the wind, and the robe was covered with traces of wind and sand. He pulled down his hood and showed a pair of blue eyes, just like the cloudless sky on a hot sunny day.

"Hey friend, where are you from?" asked the brown-skinned Valentine.

Every year, there were always many people who came to the Underground Ant City to seek the Queen’s asylum. When they arrived here, they were often already in a state of hardship, even having no provisions left, only hungry and cold. The kind-hearted people in the tribe would always take out their small amount of food and invite them to have a good meal, and then cheerily show them the way into the Underground Ant City.

The Valentine people shared everything they owned warmly, generously, and happily, even if they lived in this barren land and were poor and strained all their lives.

"I'm from Neverland." He was dusty, hoarse, and pale, but his eyes were firm.

The Valentine stood in awe: "You just crossed the desert? A few days ago, the high priest said that there was a huge storm coming. I was afraid that many people had died. Did you encounter it?"

The traveler nodded: "Lost the camel."

"It's just a camel, at least you haven't lost yourself. This is rare luck to have in the desert." The Valentine said enthusiastically, "Come rest with our tribe. Today is the Bonfire Festival; young girls will come out to dance, we’ll all gather and have fun together, and start again tomorrow morning. The Underground Ant City isn’t far away!"

"Thank you."

The lone traveler rested with the Valentine tribe, and the Valentine guard warmly invited him to have dinner in his home. When the traveler took out the precious spices he carried with him, the guard danced happily and called a dozen neighbors in one breath. They killed a sheep, the man set up a grill, and the woman drew water from the well. Finally, they tasted this delicious roast lamb together without any other fixings, and repeatedly praised the magic of spices. Even the traveler's eagle was given a piece of the delicious roast lamb. It was clever with language and praised the sumptuous dinner, which attracted Valentines’ laughter.

At night, the bonfire was lit in the middle of the village and the tribespeople kept adding firewood to make it burn more brightly. The flaming fire dyed the sky a brilliant red. The old people in the tribe played with rough instruments, while the men and women dressed up and danced around the bonfire. The young girls were shy and waited for the boys to invite them to dance or even propose marriage.

The annual Bonfire Festival was actually a grand collective wedding. The young people in this tribe had no complicated wedding ceremonies. They only needed to invite their favorite girls to dance in front of the bonfire, and take out gifts for their sweetheart after the dance. Once the other party accepted them, their wedding would be completed.

This barren land couldn't support grand weddings, but as long as lovers really love each other, the ceremony is not important.

The traveler looked at the lively dancing from a distance. After taking off his robe, his tall and straight body and handsome appearance could be seen. The girls from the Valentine tribe glanced at him frequently. One bold girl even took the initiative to invite him to dance. She wasn’t annoyed when she was rejected, but ran back happily holding her skirt and whispered to her companions.

The traveler had to sneak away and took his eagle to the stone forest outside the village. Here there was a wind-eroded hill with steep walls, full of wind-eroded boulders and wind-eroded columns. The eagle glided in the night sky while he jumped onto a wind-eroded column several meters high and sat on it, watching the tribe with their glowing bonfire from a distance. Music, laughter, applause, the excitement of this world echoed in this desert, which made people feel excited and eager to walk into bright joy and forget all their troubles and pains.

This excitement reminded travelers of the Twilight Township’s founding day celebrations. On that day, the whole Village of Twilight was also as lively as this. There was only the one day in a year when the sunset would be replaced by a bright starry sky. People would go out of their homes, walk through the streets and have fun, or enjoy fireworks rising from the sea or on the beach, blooming in a beautiful canopy.

On that day when he was still young, and only on that day, his mother would brace herself up from her sickbed, take him by the hand, and take to the streets to watch fireworks on the beach. He sang to her and she always smiled and touched his head to encourage him. Such memories made him sincerely happy.

But this little happiness didn't last forever. Mother's hand was thinner every year. The palm that once wrapped around his could no longer hold him. Instead, his could wrap around her hands—a pair of skinny hands.

Later, she finally couldn't even get out of the house, so on the founding day of each year he didn't go to the beach to watch fireworks, but stayed with her at home. Sometimes she was awake, but sometimes she was asleep. He sat on the floor beside her bed watching the sporadic fireworks from the window, quietly watching them as they bloomed and then extinguished, just like her.

He knew that she was going to leave him, and that there was nothing he could do. He could only pray day after day, asking God to slow down, slow down, don't take away his only relative just yet, don't leave him alone.

But she still left. That year, he was thirteen years old.

After her death, he was sent to the Holy See. Every year, on the Twilight Township’s founding day, he wanted to go back and see it, but he always missed it because of one thing or another. Until one year, he finally took the time to return to the Twilight Township.

But he didn't go to the beach to watch fireworks. He spent it with her at her tombstone.

On the way to the church’s graveyard, crowds flocked to the square and the beach. He walked in secluded alleys and avoided the crowds. Could that joy belong to him? He didn't know, he only felt lonely. For a moment, he even had such a confused thought: At this moment, is Father God watching over this lonely creature?

So he mused in his heart: Please turn to me and have mercy on me, because I am lonely and miserable. Please look after my hardships and sufferings, and forgive all my sins.

Fireworks flew and exploded in the sky. The colourful fireworks attracted screams and laughter from the crowd. He stood in front of her tombstone and looked up.

Every year was so lively, exactly the same as in his childhood memories, but he never had the luck to have a person to watch fireworks with him.

Yes, he did.

He had it.

—What God had prepared for those who loved him was what the eyes had never seen, the ears had never heard, and the heart had never thought of.

It was miraculous and inconceivable, which caused his heart to wander with an oath day and night, but before he could speak it, he was already silenced. Later, the miracle slept in the tree tomb, and the fallen flowers gradually covered his face, but it appeared again and again in his memory. He carefully held this memory and made it accompany him clearly every day.

It was just that he never dared to think about this oath again, because he couldn’t say it anymore. No one could say it anymore.

He also dreamed of him, and each time he lost this heart of his, but even if they met in such a nightmare, it was better than the many nights without dreams. He stayed up all night, accompanied by the bonfire until dawn.

This kind of love was happiness and pain.

It was passionate, but also quiet.

His mind was opened and he was grateful, even if he would willingly spend his whole life in turmoil.

He was grateful for everything in his life.

-----

Editor’s Notes: A small correction: in the earlier chapter where Qi Leren read Ning Zhou’s letter, I had it say “demon tide” rather than “evil tide”. This has now been changed.

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[r3almellow]

MLQC Boys With A Famous S/o

Here we go! Thank you anon for this request I hope its to your liking!! Apologies for typos as always!

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

Kiro (YouTuber S/o)

How did you meet ?

You were a YouTuber that had over 500,000 subscribers. During a Mukbang Q&A video you received a question in regards to your celebrity crush. 

“I think the big ass poster currently behind me kind of gives it away, but my ultimate crush is Kiro. I’d give anything to meet him at least once.” You went even as far as to give him a shout out. “Hey, super star! I heard you were a big foodie and since you like to eat and I like to eat, maybe we can eat together sometime? Okay, that was dumb, please ignore this!”

Little did you know, Kiro was a huge fan of your videos and just so happened to see your request. Next thing you knew a clip of you “shooting your shot” made its way to his social media page with a caption of “Its a date ;)” right above it. You just about died when you saw his post. You were only joking around! Well...not 100% joking, but you didn’t expect him to respond! 

You spent weeks talking to each other through private messages soon after. Your messages filled with gushing over your similar interests, playful banters and light flirting. He offered to be a part of your next Mukbang stating that it was better to have two people eating themselves into a coma on camera than one. You couldn’t argue with facts and took him up on his offer! Kiro only had one condition...you let him take you out on a date afterwards.

And the rest was history. 

Dating

The cutest couple to have ever existed! 

Both of your social media pages are filled with couple photos. 

You both get to dress up in disguise whenever you go on dates! A baseball cap, sunglasses, and face masks are your usual go to’s, but depending on where you’re going you might be required to get a little creative. 

Dealing with overly excited fans and even more persistent paparazzi was a bit new for you, since your interactions with people is mostly through the internet, but you handle it pretty well.

Interviewers practically threw themselves onto every opportunity to get information about your love life. Kiro was more skilled than you about these things, so you tend to just laugh awkwardly and let him take care of it. 

Kiro appears a little more in your videos whenever he’s free which the fans are grateful for. Of course, your channel doesn’t turn into all things Kiro and you never use him for your own personal gain. 

Dating Kiro did open up some opportunities for you, like getting to experience award shows and networking with other celebrities and content creators. Again, you refused to throw Kiro’s name around just to get the things you wanted. 

You both like to bounce ideas off of each other, whether its for his music or for your latest video. Having two creative minds come together does wonders! 

You’re almost always somewhere in the background during his live streams.  

Gavin (Actress S/o)

How did you meet? 

High school. You were a part of the drama club and Gavin was...well...forced into being a part of the stagehand after being threatened with expulsion from his last brawl. 

You were the first one to welcome him. You were kind, funny, and cute. And when you were on that stage? Mesmerizing was the best way to put how Gavin saw you. You were inspiring. 

After graduation Gavin lost contact with most of his acquaintances, but he never once stopped thinking about you. Gavin wasn’t big on celebrity news, but he actually kept up with your progress once he got wind of a newcomer taking the entertainment world by storm. 

Fast forward to a few years later and he was playing bodyguard for one of the most successful actresses in the world. You. This was just an undercover job that was going to last as long as his target was still out there. 

There was definitely chemistry between you. And while Gavin wanted to act on his feelings, his work had to come first. You respected that, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to let him know you were interested. How could you not be? You had a huge crush on him back in high school and now that he was by your side practically every day those feelings came back with a vengeance! 

As soon as Gavin’s objective was complete he continues being your bodyguard stating, “Only I can keep you out of trouble.” Which you responded by kissing him.

Dating

Once word got out about you dating your “bodyguard”, it shocked many that you decided to be with someone that wasn’t a celebrity. 

Even so, Gavin doesn’t look like your average Joe. He has the body and face of man who could easily be on the cover of Vogue or Vanity Fair, but you know your man isn’t about that life. 

You’ve spent years being a private person, so when you and Gavin start dating not revealing much was easy. The public only knew what you wanted them to. 

There are a lot of at home dates filled with takeout and movie night. Just being in each others company is more than enough for you!

You work out together a lot! He’s really good about motivating you especially when you have to prepare for an upcoming movie. You honestly don’t need a personal trainer when you have Gavin. 

The paparazzi are afraid of Gavin. Like they won’t even get within six feet of you whenever he’s around. The last poor soul who got a little too close for your liking ate asphalt within seconds.

Gavin isn’t one for the limelight or the glitz and glam, which you appreciate. Its nice to be around someone that isn’t a part of the entertainment world. 

You don’t have to hide a part of yourself, in fear of judgement, whenever you were with him. You appreciated Gavin’s genuine nature. He was always truthful with you and he never gave the impression that he was only with you because of your status. 

Gavin does a great job with making you feel special. Whenever you feel like you don’t meet the standards of what the industry wants, he pulls you out of that dark hole and gives you the pep talk you need to get through the day.

You could walk around without an ounce of makeup on or trade in a Dior dress for sweatpants and a t-shirt, and Gavin still found you beautiful. 

Victor ( Famous Pianist S/o)

How did you meet? 

Victor was a fan of your work for quite some time. There was something about your raw talent that drew him to your work. He always made it a point to go to all your live shows whenever he was available, but has never met you personally. 

It wasn’t until you waltzed right into his office out of the blue. When he saw you enter his office with Goldman and two security guards tailing right behind you, he didn’t even recognize you. You looked as if you had just rolled out of bed with a messy bun, ripped jeans, t-shirt with some random cartoon character and thick rimmed glasses. His first thought as you stared him down with a frown was, “Who let this homeless person into his office?” 

When Goldman called your name as the two security guards grabbed your arms, Victor had to do a double take. The elegant and graceful woman, who commanded the stage with just pads of her fingertips, was...YOU?! 

Victor allowed you to stay, curious to know why you were here. You business with Victor was simple. You wanted funding to create music schools for low income families. You had sent countless emails to LFG with hopes to do business with them, but after being ignored the first few times and receiving a rude rejection email that morning, you were ready to take the bull by the horns. 

Surprisingly Victor found himself intrigued by you and thus started an interesting partnership. 

The more Victor got to work with you the more he became attracted to the headstrong, smart, and talented person who seemingly enjoyed ruffling his feathers every chance they got. 

You were also attracted to the blunt, detail-oriented man and it bothered you to no-end. What you saw in a man who probably would critique drawings from a toddler, you had no idea. But you appreciated his work ethic. He genuinely wanted you to succeed with this project and you couldn’t deny his heart was in the right place. 

The day the first school opened was the day Victor decided to stop tiptoeing around the mutual attraction and asked you out.

“We can celebrate your accomplishments over dinner.” 

Dating

The CEO of LFG and the child prodigy turned world famous pianist dating?!

CAN WE SAY POWER COUPLE?!

Whenever paparazzi get a picture of the two of you, you both look as if you just finished a professional photoshoot. You NEVER look bad in those photos. Never! 

And when you do professional shoots? It leaves people SHOOK. Magazines like Forbes have never had such a beautiful couple grace their covers before. Just wait until people see your wedding photos.

You always ask him to visit you during your rehearsals which he almost always declines but shows up anyway, if he’s not too busy. He’ll also bring a box of his homemade pudding because knowing you, you probably were too busy with preparations for your upcoming concert to eat. He’ll take you out to eat afterwards, but the pudding should hold you over for a bit.

Victor will never admit this to you, but your music helps him de-stress after a long day at work, so whenever he isn’t with you, your music helps him fall asleep. 

Victor also likes to watch you work. Seeing you so focused as you create your next piece was a sight to beheld. The pensive look in your eyes as you went over your music sheet, the slow nod of your head as your fingers danced across the keys as you intently listened to the melody, and the way your eyebrow twitched when you hit a key you didn’t like; all things oddly enjoyed seeing.

You’ll never catch him staring. He’ll pretend he’s working whenever you feel his eyes on you and if you try to call him out on it, he will most likely deny it. 

Lucien ( Novelist S/o)

How did you meet? 

You needed the help of someone knowledgeable with neuroscience for your next book. Someone recommended a Professor at Loveland University who specialized on the topic. That was how you met Professor Lucien. 

You two worked closely together once you started your manuscript, going over various topics under the neuroscience category. It wasn’t surprising just how intelligent the man was on the subject, but you were in awe about how much you knew.

Your meetings would often start at the university which led to you going home together once you found out he lived in the same building as you. You leveled up from the lecture hall to aquariums, movie theaters, restaurants, and his apartment where you had lunch or dinner. 

Your conversations never stayed on the topic of work. It often changed to your interests. You found that you and Lucien had a lot of similar interests like your taste in books and art. He also developed a love for teasing you. 

Seeing the look on your flustered face turned into one of his favorite pastimes.

When it came to the topic of your books, you learned Lucien has read quite a few of them and was very intrigued with your work. He asked you numerous questions, questions no one thought to ask. 

He admitted to you his favorite of yours was the first book he ever read titled, “The Boy Who Dreamed.” You jokingly offered to sign his book, but he declined with a smile.

“I’ll admit I do enjoy the book, but I’m more interested in the woman who wrote it.” 

Dating

More dates at your favorite places. 

Almost every other week, Lucien seemed to have tickets to art exhibits, festivals, or the movies. 

His teasing intensifies by a hundred! That man loves to tease you and you hate it! You love it. 

The closer you got to Lucien, the more you realized he didn’t enjoy talking about himself, so it takes a while to learn about him or his past. You never press him for information, but he does reveal things to you within time.

Lucien loves when you read to him. Its how he falls asleep and once you find out he has trouble sleeping, you always suggest what you call “story time.” 

In truth, having you by his side is more than enough to get him to sleep, but if you aren’t there hearing your voice will do the trick. You could be reading anything and he’d be fine with it. From Dr. Seuss to H.G. Wells, Lucien was fine with it as long as he got hear your voice.

You like to ask for his opinion on your latest projects. He does a great job making you think outside of the box which will make things easier or challenging during your writing sessions. 

Whenever you encounter writer’s block, Lucien will pull you away from your laptop and mountains of papers to enjoy a nice relaxing day with him. 

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Doooone! Please comment if you enjoyed this! I’d love to know what you guys think!

Want to read more of my writing? Check out my MLQC masterlist here!

[particularemu]

I Missed You | A Bang Chan Scenario

Word Count: 3857

Type: Smut

Warnings: Light choking at the end

Author’s Note: For my bby @channiesmixtape​ 

I apologize, this is SO RUSHED, like yikes. 

Sorry it took so long fam! Thank you for supporting my writing 🥰

Chan was a cruel man. 

A very very cruel man. 

The past hour or so you’ve been at the gym with your boyfriend. You two originally planned to do some couple’s yoga class, but the stupid thing was cancelled last minute because the teacher was either sick with the flu, or didn’t feel like teaching odd 20-something-year-olds how to balance on their significant other’s limbs while in difficult yoga poses. 

Despite your silent internal protest, Chan decided to take the time and get some “much-needed” exercise. Honestly, you just wanted to go home and binge watch the latest K-Drama you and Chan started before he had to go on tour. The lazy bone was hitting you hard today. 

Instead of sitting on your phone for the next hour, you decided it might not be a bad idea to get some exercise yourself. After all, you did eat a whole tub of ice cream last night for unknown reasons. Might as well hop on a machine to work off the extra calories you consumed while watching the latest Weekly Idol episode. 

After walking around the gym staring at the intimidating machines for 10 minutes, you decided the exercise bike looked the least intimidating. You just get on and pedal right? 

Unfortunately, about 20 minutes into your Stray Kids Spotify playlist, your knee decided it was time to burn like hell. Well you tried.  A+ for effort. 

Without anything better to do, you figured watching your attractive boyfriend work out was a good idea. Boy were you wrong. 

Watching your muscular boyfriend work out was filling your head with some dirty thoughts. 

With Chan’s busy schedule, you haven’t exactly had a ton of time to hump like bunnies, so you’ve been super horny for the past couple of weeks, for no apparent reason. 

Chan had to travel for about a month. About 2 days into his absence you started to realize — wow, you guys had sex wayyyyy too much. You couldn’t even last 2 days without sex before you began to masturbate to the memories of his hands on your body. Of course the toys you had stashed under the bed in a lockbox helped dramatically, but none of them filled you up like Chan did. 

“Back so soon?” Chan teased, flexing his arm as he lifted the dumbbell.

Your thighs instinctively pressed together, praying to the sex gods that you weren’t turned on enough to seep through your leggings. The last thing you wanted was the whole gym to see a wet patch through your skin-tight pants. 

“My knee decided that exercise wasn’t in the cards today.” You shivered at a sudden breeze that slipped through the crack of the open door — mentally cursing those who opened it. You grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over your head and slipping your arms through the sleeves as Chan put the dumbbells away. 

Chan stretched his hand out to you, inviting you to lace your fingers between his perfect ones. “Come on, let’s go.” 

“I can wait if you have more to do.” You intertwined your fingers with his, leaning your head against his shoulder as he lead you to the door. 

“Nah. I don’t want to stick around here if you’re in pain. You need to rest.” 

“Alright you’ve convinced me. Let’s go home.” You giggled as Chan swung your hands obnoxiously while the two of you walked out the door. 

---------

“Gosh, what’s the hurry?” Chan giggled as he stumbled into your small living room, practically knocking into the small table you had placed against the wall near the door. To be fair, you did kind of shove him into the room. 

“Chan. It’s been a month since we’ve watched our drama. I’m going crazy here. I want to see if she’s finally going to get together with him.” You threw your bag onto the coat rack, flinching when the unstable piece of furniture rocked under the weight of your unreasonably large bag, making Chan giggle as he watched you steady the hunk of wood. 

“Fine, fine. You could watch it without me you know.” Chan stepped on the heel of his shoe, slipping out of them with ease before sprawling on your dingy blue couch. He flinched a bit as the springs poked him in the side. 

“Yeah, everything I own is falling apart. I did buy a new mattress though. Wanna binge watch it on my bed?” You threw your keys into a small bowl resting on top of the table next to the front door. Chan gave you that bowl when you first bought that apartment because you kept losing your keys and other important stuff like chapstick, pain killers, and your extra phone charger. 

Chan sat up from the broken-down couch, laughing as the piece of shit groaned under his weight. “What did you do to this thing?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s like 87 years old. My grandmother gave it to me a long time ago, and from what my mom has told me, they did it everywhere.” You cringed at your own words. Probably wasn’t the best story to tell your boyfriend when you were hoping to get dicked down later. 

Oh well. 

Chan visibly cringed before hopping off the ragged couch. “Yep. Your room sounds lovely.” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's neck. “You know… we could always do more than watching shows in there.” 

“Oh really.” Chan’s eyebrow shot up in the air, a dorky grin tugging at his lips as you finished your proposal. 

“We can cuddle.” You kissed his lips. “And kiss.” You pressed another soft kiss to his lips. 

“I like the sound of that.” Chan smiled, hands sliding down your shoulders before linking under your butt and lifting you up. 

You couldn’t help but squeal a bit as Chan lifted you off the ground, arms and legs wrapping around him as if you were a koala bear hanging onto a tree during a severe windstorm. 

“I’ve got you.” Chan chuckled as he walked the two of you to your less than extravagant bedroom. 

Truth be told, being in his arms like that made you feel safe. It’s been far too long. The entire month he was gone, you craved moments like these. You missed having his arms around you as you giggled over senseless things, watching your K-drama together, sitting in the recording studio listening to his new music. All those moments were replaced with 3 AM text messages and 5 minute calls before bed.  

“I missed you.” You nuzzled your head into his neck. 

“I missed you too baby girl.” Chan pushed the bedroom door open with his foot, chuckling when he saw your sheets. “I hate to ruin this moment, but I have to ask. Are those taco sheets?”

“I happen to like tacos a lot.” You giggled. “And they were on sale.” You added, making Chan laugh. 

“I love them.” Chan nuzzled his nose against yours — the corny action making you fake-gag. 

“Be nice to your boyfriend.” Chan laughed. 

“No.” You retorted. 

“Fine.” An evil grin made its way on Chan’s face before he tossed you onto your mattress, laughing with you as you bounced a couple times. His laughter died down a bit as he crawled onto the mattress, snuggling next to your body.

You smacked his arm, “Hey! That’s one way to ruin the mood.” 

“Oh? What mood did we have?” Chan couldn’t stop his laughter. “Last I remember we were talking about your grandparents going at it on your couch.” 

You mentally smacked yourself. Why on earth did you think it was a good idea to bring that up when you were hoping to have his fingers shoved into your vag. 

That’s when it hit you. 

“What if I strip for you?” Your eyes met his, noticing the slight blush tinting his pale skin. 

“Are you seriously trying to convince me to have sex with you?” Chan’s hands ran along your side, making your body shiver at his touch. 

You wanted more — so much more, and he knew it. His large hand lingered on hip, squeezing the soft flesh softly as he waited for you to say something — anything that would give him permission to devour you bit by bit. Despite his teasing, he wanted this just as much as you did. 

“I was really hoping to get laid tonight.” Your voice shook slightly, confidence wavering as you tried your hardest to keep your composure. Frankly, you were ready to get on your knees and beg, but you were hoping it wouldn’t come to that. 

Chan chuckled a bit before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. It was as if time stopped, all that mattered in the world was his lips against yours. “That’s funny. I was hoping for the same thing.” 

You moaned softly as Chan’s lips met yours once more, hands traveling up your torso to guide your shirt and sports bra up your body. Your lips separated to remove the unnecessary garments, only to connect once more when he tossed them across the room. Chan swiped his tongue against your lower lip, slipping into your mouth when you obediently parted your lips for him. 

This kiss made up for all the kisses you two missed out on while he was gone. It was the perfect mixture of clashing teeth and tongue as you two felt each other’s warmth in a tight embrace. His breath ghosted across your skin as he pulled away from you, hands darting to the back of his head to yank his shirt off. 

“Ugh, you’re perfect.” Your hands darted to his chest, fingertips feeling the taut muscles.

Chan just chuckled, eyes drinking every inch of your exposed skin. “So are you.” 

Your heart nearly stopped when Chan swung his leg over your hips, piercing gaze watching your cheeks tint a rose color as he straddled you. His fingers fiddled with his belt buckle, unbuckling the damn thing at a painfully slow pace. 

If you weren’t so entranced by his hands, you probably would have said something along the lines of ‘My grandfather moves faster than you,’ and thrusted your hips into his for effect. However, the way his hands looked as he threw the offending piece of leather across the room sent a wave of electricity up your spine.

Your heart panged against your ribcage as if it were playing an obnoxiously loud drum solo at a Metallica concert as your mind flashed with various images of Chan’s hands doing dirty things to your body. A moan escaped your lips as you imagined him sticking his fingers in your mouth before driving them into your pussy, fucking you mercilessly with his fingers as his tongue lapped at your slit. 

A scene straight from a porn movie was playing in your head as you watched your boyfriend slip off his pants in front of you. Was that weird?

That doesn’t matter. 

With each passing second, your underwear grew damper and you found yourself wanting him — and his hands — immediately. 

Speaking of hands…

Chan’s hands were glorious. Your eyes followed their every movement, eyeing up the veins that scattered across his forearms. His knuckles were scraped slightly — most likely from today’s session with the punching bag at the gym. His fingers were the perfect length, and you knew what they were capable of. The thought if his fingers ramming into your g-spot sent a wave of excitement through you. 

You were far too busy gawking at his hands to notice that he caught you staring. 

“I knew it!” Chan’s excited voice startled you a bit, effectively turning off the dirty thoughts you were having and replacing them with pure panic. 

“Knew what?” You looked away, cheeks tinted scarlet as you fiddled with your thumbs. 

Maybe he didn’t actually catch you eye-fucking his hands?

“I knew you had a thing for my hands.” 

“Shit.” The four-letter word slipped from your lips before you could stop it. 

Chan laughed at your reaction, arms wrapping around his midsection as he fell to his side. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Hey! You laughing at me isn’t helping.” You swatted his shoulder. 

Sure it was kind of embarrassing to admit that simply looking at his god-like hands would turn you on faster than the speed of light, but it was kind of nice to know you didn’t have to hide it anymore — not that you were doing a good job. 

Chan’s laughter died down. “Sorry. I’m not making fun of you. I just don’t see it. What makes my hands so sexy baby girl?” 

“Chris.” You rolled him over and straddled his hips, grinding your core into his growing cock. “I find everything about you sexy — including your hands.” 

Your fingertips grazed along his chest, fingers dipping into each curve of his abs as you ground your hips into his again, hoping he would get the hint to quit teasing and fuck you already. “I want you Chris.” You slid off his lap, fingertips tugging at the waistband of his boxers. 

Chan’s eyes darkened with lust — or was that your imagination? Nevermind, that doesn’t matter. 

You were more focused on his hand palming his length through the navy blue boxers you were trying to remove from his body. The erotic sight making you more and more excited for what was to come. 

It had been so long. You were dying to unwrap him. 

“What exactly do you want baby girl?” Chan purred. “I bet you’ve had some amazing dreams about my hands.” He smirked when your face flushed red. Bingo! “Tell me, what exactly do you want me to do.”  

His words sent shivers up your spine. Well, the boy already knew you had a hand fetish. Might as well have some fun and get him to do what you’ve been dreaming of. After all, you have been having the same exact wet dream for over a month. Having Chan there to fuck you senseless would be so much better than riding a dildo on the bathroom floor. 

“Please finger me.” Your voice shook ever-so-slightly, all sense of pride leaving your body as you practically begged for his touch. Even though it was embarrassing to beg for his fingers up your coochie, you knew it would all be worth it in the end. Chan would do anything to please you. “I want your tongue.” Your hands rested on his hips, thumbs dipping into the evident dips near his hip bones. 

A sinister smirk took over Chan’s features as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re such a good girl.” 

His praise turned you on more than you’d care to admit — especially when it reminded you of how he praises your golden retriever. Despite that awkward comparison, you still love to hear his words of approval when you two are intimate. 

You moaned as Chan traveled down your clothed body, quickly ridding you of your leggings. 

“No panties?” Chan teased, shooting an award-winning smirk at you as he chucked your leggings across the room. 

“It’s easier to not wear any with leggings. Then I don’t have to worry about panty lines.” You glared at him. “Just, get to work!” 

Boys wouldn’t understand. 

Chan couldn’t help but laugh at your passionate outburst as his hands ran across the smooth skin of your thighs. Your frustration was quickly replaced with pleasure when he opened your thighs, his warm breath ghosting across your core as his hands left you bare and spread before him. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Chan’s lips pressed against your thigh quickly before he hovered over your center, tongue darting across his lower lip as his eyes drank in every dip and curve you had to offer. 

Even though the words were nice to hear, you didn’t need him to utter those 3 little words. The expressions on his face as he took off your clothing, piece by piece, made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. His eyes always watched you with such wonder, hands always feeling the need to grab the parts of you that you once thought were horrible, a blush always evident on his cheeks when you were the most vulnerable to him, those were the unspoken words that didn’t need to be said. 

You mean the world to me.

Without warning, Chan dove into your folds, tongue flattening against you as his fingertips pressed into your thighs. The overwhelming pleasure took you by surprise, making your back arch as a loud moan echoed through the room. Your head pressed into the pillows, hands tangling in Chan’s curly locks as his middle and index fingers entered your core. 

The sinful sounds echoing in the room only heightened your pleasure — the sounds of moaning, sucking, licking, and slurping making your thighs shake around Chan’s head. 

This was exactly why you guys couldn’t fuck in the dorms. It wouldn’t take long for one of the boys to hear the two of you and either A) ask you two to stfu and stop, or B) wonder if someone was dying. You two tried to fuck in the dorms once, but your voice (and Chan) betrayed you.

A harsh suck brought your attention back to the brunette between your legs. Chan backed away from your core, “Eyes on me princess.” 

His big brown eyes watched every one of your reactions as his lips enclosed around your clit, sucking harshly, sending intense waves of pleasure through your body. Chan’s fingers curled inside you, hitting your g-spot with each harsh thrust. 

The amount of pleasure you were feeling was indescribable. No vibrator could compare to the feeling of his fingers ramming inside you while his tongue flicked your clit. You couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t be gone this long again — even though you knew that wasn’t going to happen. Chan was an idol. Going on a world tour could take him away for nearly a year. 

“Oh my God Chan.” Your whole body tensed as your orgasm approached, toes curling as shockwaves of pleasure coursed through you. It was as if a coil was tightening more and more with each pass of his tongue until it snapped. 

A mixture of curse words and Chan’s name slipped from your lips as you reached your high, toes curling as your fingers let go of his hair to fist the sheets. Your thighs shook around his head as Chan’s tongue lapped up your juices, riding you through your orgasm. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that.” You panted, body shivering at the intense orgasm that was still making its way through your body. 

Chan chuckled a bit, pulling his boxers off his body before hovering over you. He pressed a soft kiss to your nose, making you giggle a bit, before asking, “Can you keep going?” 

His eyes held concern, which warmed your heart, but there was no way in hell you’d pass up having his cock inside you. 

“Please keep going.” Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. “I need more of you.” 

Chan pressed kisses all over your face before lining himself up with your core. “I’m happy to oblige.” 

Your fingernails dug into Chan’s shoulder blades as he pressed into you — feeling every inch of his cock rub against your walls as his hips rocked into yours. Chan’s hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight so he wouldn’t crush you. You pressed your face in the crook of his neck, aiming to suck on his skin as he set a quick pace, thrusting into your heated core. 

“No marks.” Chan commanded, the authority in his voice sending shivers down your spine. 

“Yes sir.” You could swear you felt him twitch inside you at the title. Darn. You were really hoping to litter his pale skin with some dark purple marks. Then the whole world would know that he was yours. Then again… Perhaps he had a point. That could make for some bad publicity for Stray Kids. 

Chan’s lips pressed against yours, giving you something to do with your tongue as he deepened the kiss. His hips slammed into you faster, gaining power with each thrust. You could feel his breath ghost across your lips as you parted for air. The new control you had over your mouth gave you the energy to focus on wrapping your legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him tightly as his hips ground into yours. 

“I’m close baby.” Chan’s husky voice sounded strained as his thrusts became erratic. 

“Choke me.” If you weren’t having the time of your life, you’d be embarrassed by how fucked out you sounded begging for his hand around your throat. 

Chan groaned, hand immediately finding its way to your throat, pressing down firm. It was glorious, but you still wanted more. 

“Harder.” 

Chan quickly obliged, cutting off most of your air supply with his hand.  The feeling of his fingers digging into your skin brought you to your second orgasm within seconds, a choked cry escaping your lips as you clenched around Chan’s cock, milking him into his own orgasm. 

Chan released your throat, a deep moan echoing in the room as you tightened your thighs around his hips, forcing him to stay inside you as he hit his release. You could feel his cum coat your walls as he slowly rocked his hips against yours, helping the two of you ride out your orgasms. You repeated his name over and over as if it was the only thing you knew, arms holding him closer as you basked in the afterglow. 

“I came inside.” Chan pulled out, running his hands through his hair, stress taking over any previous emotions he had felt. 

You sat up and rushed to him, rubbing his shoulders to bring him down from his freakout. “Don’t worry, I’m on the pill.” 

Chan sighed, relief flooding throughout his body as he sunk back into your embrace. 

“Besides, even if I wasn’t, I kind of put you in a chokehold with my legs, so you would have had a right to freak out at me.” You giggled, running your fingers through his sweaty hair. 

“You know, having children with you wouldn’t be so bad.” He mumbled.

You weren’t a fan of having kids in your early twenties, but hearing him admit that he wants kids someday warmed your heart. At least you knew if something were to happen and you got pregnant, you’d have Chan by your side. “Yeah?”

“You’d make a great mom.” Chan murmured, sleep slowly taking over the poor boy. 

“I think you’re too tired to think straight.” You couldn’t help but tease him. He looked so tired. 

Chan merely chuckled, pulling you under the covers to press your bodies together. “I am tired, but it’s true.” 

You leaned your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep was Chan’s whispers, “I missed you.”