#i also convinced a friend of mine to read shades

[mercurialskiies]

since finishing vicious a year ago, i have convinced around two-three other people to also pick up the book and read it

spreading the word, as intended

[goldustwomun]

bags (s.h.)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?

warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!

wc: 2.2k+

note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)

Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags

You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.

Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.

You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.

It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.

And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.

“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.

Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.

“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.

So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.

He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.

He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.

The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.

And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.

“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.

“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"

His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”

“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”

“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.

“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.

“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”

And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”

He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”

You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.

“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—

“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.

“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.

“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.

His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”

“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.

“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  

“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.

“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.

“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.

He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”

He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.

as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3

[e-vay]

Savor Every Second - A Sonamy “First Time” One-Shot

[A/N: Yes, the title means what you think it means! Rated T. This fic is also available on AO3 if you prefer to read it there.]

[Additional note: I listened to "Sleep Well” - d4vd while writing this]

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

“Chaos Emeralds coming your way,” Super Sonic stated into the communicator on his wrist. He used two fingers to salute to his friends flying nearby in the biplane. He balled his hands into fists and braced his arms across his chest before throwing them outwards, expelling the seven Chaos Emeralds from him and into the dusk.

“I’ve tracked their trajectories!” Tails shouted excitedly. The plane made a tactical turn and headed in a pointed direction. “Great work, Sonic! Knuckles and I will work on collecting them. You take it easy and we’ll regroup tomorrow to go over…”

Sonic yanked his communicator off him and tossed it to the ground below, not able to focus on the fox’s instructions. As he slowly drifted to the ground, his fur fading from a vibrant glowing gold to its regular cobalt shade, his attention was entirely on the pink hedgehog in the distance running towards him. Her grin stretched from both corners of her muzzle and tears were welling up in her eyes.

Amy waved one arm in the air to signal the hedgehog slowly descending from the setting sky. She laughed incredulously and blinked away her tears. She knew better than to doubt her team (and especially the hero she had been calling “boyfriend” for the last several months), but this adventure was an especially close call. There was sure to be a huge celebration with the gang after they met back up for debriefing, but at the moment all she wanted was to wrap Sonic in her arms and revel in the fact they managed to survive this most recent campaign.

As the distance closed between the two, Amy couldn’t help but notice Sonic’s eyes darken once they locked with hers. That intense gaze made her weak in the knees and she had to slow her gate to keep herself from tripping. The second his feet touched the ground, he sprinted to her at full speed and swept her up in his arms, pressing his lips into hers. She kissed him back with equal passion, thrilled to be in his embrace. Their lips communicated without the use of words: I love you. Thank Chaos you’re alive. Thank Chaos you’re mine.

Sonic never made his concern apparent whenever they were waging war with whatever latest enemy crossed their path, but this time was too close for comfort. Sure they’d had near-death-experiences before (an occupational hazard), but not since he and Amy had officially started their romantic relationship. What if they didn’t make it this time? What if he couldn’t tell her he loved her once more, couldn’t hear her contagious laughter again, breathe in her scent, taste her… He steeled himself during battle to make sure that wouldn’t happen, but it did put everything into perspective for him. 

He needed to savor every second with her.

Sonic slid a hand up Amy’s back and clutched the nape of her neck, soliciting a dreamy sigh from his mate. He used the opportunity to open his mouth to hers as well, deepening the kiss. With careful coordination, he dropped to his knees and leaned forward, resting Amy on her back but not leaving any space between them while doing so. She mindlessly hooked her legs over his hips to bring him even closer. Her fingers laced their way into his quills and the sensual tugging made his fur stand on end. 

He finally broke the kiss just to smother his lips down her muzzle, under her chin and into the crook of her neck. The feel of his mouth against her and his hot panting made Amy tremble beneath him. The two had spent the last several months kissing and even enjoyed some not-so-innocent “exploration” here and there, but she was certain she’d never get used to this. His touch caused her to swelter and radiate so much heat that she was convinced she’d burn him. She let out a sharp gasp and writhed under him when he sucked on a particularly tender spot near her clavicle. Amy loved that he not only discovered that secret weakness of hers; he exploited it often. “Sonic,” she exhaled longingly.

The hoarse sound of his name on her breath sent pounding waves of electricity throughout his entire being. He wanted to hear more of it, in varying pitches and volumes.  

As his lips made their way back up to meet hers, his hands snaked down her delicate frame. Her form baffled and mesmerized him. She was so strong with such firm, toned muscles and yet some areas of her body were so splendidly soft and malleable in his hands. He traced her sides, her waist, her hips, finally gripping hungrily onto her thighs that were so tightly wrapped around him. They could feel the pummeling of each other’s heartbeats with how tightly their chests were pressed together, but it still wasn’t close enough. He needed to be a part of her.

“I love you,” Sonic moaned breathlessly into Amy’s mouth. Releasing his grasp from her thighs, he placed his hands on either side of her face and directed her to look up at him. His eyes roved over her as he hoped he could communicate this next part as urgently as he felt it. 

“I need you.”

It was as much a statement of fact as it was a desperate, ravenous plea. 

Amy’s breath hitched. This was finally it: the threshold they had danced dangerously close to but hadn’t yet crossed. The yearning fire broiling in her lower torso was so intense that only two words were able to escape her quivering lips.

“Have me.”

The split-second she gave her permission, Sonic bit the tip of his fingers and quickly yanked off his gloves before using his bare hands to rip open her dress.

♥ ♥ ♥

Amy’s eyes fluttered open from her slumber and for a moment she couldn’t recall where she was. She blinked until her eyes adjusted to the darkness and it was revealed she was in her bedroom. She raised her arms above her head for a full-body stretch, but a tender ache in her lower half stopped her short.

It wasn’t a dream. She combed her mess of quills from her face and laughed in disbelief.

What had started out there on the forest floor continued back here at her home. Her cheeks grew warm as she recollected everything that transpired. But with so many rounds that went on for Chaos-knows how many hours, some of the details got a little hazy. That was okay. She had plenty of mental snapshots to enjoy: his vivid green eyes boring into hers, their tangled forms writhing in the moonlight, the delicious harmony of their moans, his… dedication.

Amy decided she’d better snap herself out of it before she got too riled up again and awoke Sonic. Sonic…

She turned over in bed and couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment to see it empty. “Oh well,” she thought. Even before they were dating, an agreement was made that the aloof blue hedgehog could come and go from her place as he pleased. It was in his nature to be nomadic. Still, it would have been nice to have woken up beside him after the evening’s festivities…

From the corner of her eye, she spotted a figure gingerly tiptoeing in the doorframe. The shadow froze in place as soon as she looked over.

“Whoops, did I wake you?” Sonic whispered, a glass of water in his hand. Amy sat up in bed, thrilled to learn that he hadn’t left just yet. “Not at all,” she replied. “Have you been up long?”

“Nuh-uh,” he replied at his regular volume before taking several long gulps of water. He walked over and plopped down on the edge of the bed. “I was out like a light, but…” Sonic looked over his shoulder at her, a cheeky grin plastered across his face and his voice had a feigned bewilderment to it. “I’m so parched for some reason. ’Wonder why…” the corners of his mouth stayed curled in a smile as he finished the last sip from his glass.

“How quickly you forget,” Amy teased. He set the cup on a nearby nightstand before suddenly tackling the pink hedgehog, rolling and tumbling the pair to the complete other side of the bed and tangling up in the sheets. He planted himself on his back so Amy lay on top of him. “How dare you,” he sneered but only in jest. 

She pecked his lips as a form of playful apology. “How do you still have so much energy?!” 

“Crazy, right?” He closed his eyes and smirked matter-of-factly. “I’m aboutta tell Knux he can keep his Chaos Emeralds. I just need my ‘Amy fix’ to go Super Sonic.” He punctuated the sentence with a goofy shimmy. 

Amy buried her face into his chest to stifle her laughter and hide her blush. “Stoooop,” she pleaded bashfully, but she did delight in the implication that she had such a strong impact on him. 

The two sighed in unison, grateful to be alive and overjoyed to be in each other’s arms. Sonic stroked her tangled quills, silently admiring how ridiculous her hair had gotten from their activity. The slow rhythm of their breathing started lulling each other back to sleep. 

“I love you, Sonic,” she whispered drowsily into the sweat-matted fur of his chest. 

“I love you, Ames,” he mumbled before dozing off once again. 

[case-57-with-the-enclosure]

Chapter 3!

content warnings on the linked post, do not proceed without reading them.

( 1 & 2 )

"That’s the first thing Grian really registers about him; his face is drawn and haggard, stress lines carved into the spaces beneath his eyes, between his brows, around his mouth. He’s paler than a skeleton, which would be funnier under different circumstances. Have you been outside for even a minute this last week? Grian would've teased him in a better life, but in this world the question stalls in his throat, buzzing and hollow. It's not like he even has the energy to voice it, anyway– it's taking all his strength just to stay upright under Xisuma's careful scrutiny."

"in a better life",,, oh the wishing for something else he's convinced he couldn't ever have. something better.

"Xisuma coughs into his fist; with one smooth motion, he slips his helmet back into place, the metallic snap of its latches catching against the rest of his suit and reverberating through the barren room. For some reason, it sets the hairs on Grian’s arms standing on end."

as someone who has a good ol chunk of Why Are You Doing This, Body Of Mine reactions to trauma- yeah that'll happen bud.

"The last time they spoke– actually spoke, not whatever happened in the in-between– the light in Mumbo's eyes had shuttered, warmth bleeding from them like an open wound. A corpse replacing the full body of their friendship, tucked in the spaces between grief and cold, hard betrayal. He hadn't said a word while the other hermits argued over what to do with him. He hadn't needed to."

this (the highlighted text) connects back to when Grian woke up and the sun was described similarly as bleeding. this contents me. :) <3

"Grian shuts his eyes against the burning memory and breathes in, then out, slow. "Can't imagine why," he says into that cavernous darkness, dry and weary. "I don't reckon I've got many friends left back h– on Hermitcraft." "

BACK HOOOMMEEEEEEEEE

"When he opens his eyes again, Mumbo is staring at him, mouth set in a thin, pale line beneath his mustache. "Well, you've got that wrong," he says, clipped. "Considering we're literally standing right in front of you." "

It really speaks volumes to TJ's ability as a writer that im this invested in an aching narrative with the SILLIEST most ridiculous-looking (affectionate) minecraft men. like imagine my eyes watering over this, meanwhile its like- his name is Mumbo Jumbo. He looks like That. and YET (no actual shade to any of it, love that, love him and the tonal dissonance creates a beautiful melody actually)

'A stab of something ugly twists through Grian’s stomach. “That was kind of the plan, yeah.”'

"The words come out leaden; this isn’t the first time today that he’s wished he was still unconscious, (...)"

ok listen this is a very serious moment but i cannot explain how fucking funny that line is to me- idk it just, caught me so off guard,, (also, been there)

"When he opens his eyes, a sliver of light is pouring through one of the cracks in the ill-fitting wall. It slashes across Mumbo’s face, painting the skin around his eyes with gold– highlighting every bruised vein, each miniscule worry line, every crease around his mouth. There’s a choice, here, lying in the space between Xisuma’s words and where he rests on the bed. An olive branch extended to unworthy hands. A fork in the broken, muddied path best left untraveled."

ok back to misery- read this and immediately, unconsciously did this pose:

"It shouldn’t sting so fiercely. He’s spent almost a full year by himself, with nothing but the hunger, guilt, and his decaying code to keep him company. But beneath that layer of cultivated numbness is a raw, scraping wound, freshly torn. It’s only now, with the solitude pouring back into his cracks, that he can admit how much Mumbo’s anger stings."

oh buddy,,,, orz

"Then Scar glances down, meets his eyes, and jumps almost a mile out of his skin. “Oh!” He fumbles for a moment with his cane, snatching it before it can clatter to the floor. “Oh my gosh– Grian.” “Hi,” Grian rasps. “You scared the bejeezus out of me, oh my gosh.” Scar presses a hand to his heart, eyes wide. “You can’t just go around startling a man like that, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

oh ;_; thats so cute and bittersweet. also i cannot just, *not* hear it in his voice

But Scar only looks at him, something both sad and knowing in the glitter of his gaze.

GLITTER OF HIS GAZE???? GLITTER OF HIS GAZE???? SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS !!!!!!!!! thats so good. fuck you /pos

The rush of dread crashes over him like a wave. From a distance, he watches Scar's lips part, mouth working around the first shape of a syllable, but the sound doesn't pierce through the static crawling in his ears. Inside his mind is nothing but the white hiss of a creeper, curling like pale smoke.

i fucking love that the prose cannot be divorced from minecraft. that its engrained into the writing and that it wouldn't be the same without it. fuck yeah

No. If nobody will listen to him, if nobody will understand the grievous errors they've made– then Grian will have to fix this himself. Walk headfirst into the gaping maw of death and make a home there; claw apart the monster with his own bare hands. Deep inside his chest, some wailing thing crumbles; he'd hoped he wouldn't have to die alone.

OOF MY JAW CLENCHED SO HARD AT THIS PARAGRAPH. ALSO "Deep inside his chest, some wailing thing crumbles; he'd hoped he wouldn't have to die alone."???? DEVASTATING.

Grian shivers, and under Scar’s watchful, fretful gaze, carefully begins to plan.

DONT.

===================================

thoughts:

the building of dread, the wavering ties of tension, its winding and its release are beautifully choreographed.

i need to be sedated.

(this was written yesterday at like 2 smth am but i fully stand by it.)

[dreamwritesimagines]

Jane and Mr Sinclair

I know that they are like little minor characters, but I really do like the pairing of Mr Sinclair and Jane.

I like to think that Jane herself is an artist, more specifically a painter. She prefers portraits to landscapes and watercolours to oils and for as long as she can remember she has dreamt of having her own gallery opening. Her fingers are stained with ink and paint, but for all her passion Jane is well...her art is just terrible. All art is subjective of course, but Jane seems to be an exception to that rule.

Throughout the years her family and friends have tried to subtly hint that her talents lay elsewhere - her friends wanted to protect her, her family were embarrassed by her (I also headcanon that Jane is overlooked to the point of neglect by her parents) - but it was only when she heard two of her peers mocking her work that Jane finally put her paintbrushes away. She gave up on her dream. Now she only paints at home and her art only hangs in the privacy of her bedroom.

However, during their courtship Jane accidentally lets slip to Sinclair that she was an artist. Now normally Sinclair wouldn't badger a fellow creative into showing their work. He knows how personal art is, but he is so enchanted by Jane that he manages to convince her to show him her work. Jane cannot say no.

She trusts Mr Sinclair completely but she is still terrified when she shows him her portfolio. To Jane, Mr Sinclair is a genius, in all possibility the greatest living poet. She dreads the awkward silence and polite but empty words that come when others view her work. She is expecting the same reaction from Mr Sinclair.

And there is silence. Moments that seem to drag on forever. Jane cannot look at him, finding the clock on the mantelpiece suddenly very interesting. Finally though Jane gathers up the courage to look up.

Sinclair is sitting in the chair opposite holding her work as if it was made of glass, mouth agape and stars in his eyes for Sinclair has never seen such beauty put on paper before. He has seen the great classics, visited the Sistine Chapel, but for the first time he feels he is looking at true art. And then when he looks up at Jane he knows he is looking at perfection.

The rest of the afternoon is spent with Sinclair asking her question after question - her inspiration, what draws her to art - and begging her to let him see more of her creations. He tells her that he would think it a privilege to sit for one of her portraits, a confession which makes Jane blush all shades of red. Sinclair never lies so Jane knows he is not shamelessly flattering her.

When Jane admits to him that he is the first person to ever like her work he is gobsmacked.

"My dear Miss Longmore, the greats are never appreciated in their time."

The next day Mr Sinclair asks for Jane's hand in marriage. He cannot spend another day not having her in his arms. He wants to hold her, kiss her and to unashamedly worship her. He wants to boast that she is his wife.

I just imagine that Jane had an unhappy childhood where she was overlooked in favour of her more talented prettier siblings. It is this HC that makes me want her to find love and to be accepted for who she is, and for Sinclair to be accepted for who he is too.

Just a happy marriage for these two innocents in a home with Jane's paintings on proud display throughout the house and Sinclair reading poetry and asking for advice from her on a daily basis. It sounds cheesy but they are each others muse.

I also like the idea of them finding other artists and establishing a group of like minded creatives (like a Regency-era Bloomsbury set) but all the members - writers, artists, actors, musicians - are all terrible in their chosen crafts. "Not appreciated". It is only the other members who can see the beauty in their work.

Phew! And now I have finally shared this odd headcanon of mine with you.

OMG OMG-

HONEY, YOU’RE A GENIUS! 😱

I’m literally gawking at the screen because this is such a great idea and it gives both of them so much depth and now I wanna hear more about Jane and Mr. Sinclair! ❤😍

First of all, Jane as an artist –an underrated artist- makes so much sense! ❤ Like, that could definitely be one of the reasons why she was drawn to Mr. Sinclair, and why she never really made a move on him! Because –and it’s connected to your other wonderful headcanon as well- if Jane’s parents neglected her and didn’t support her art, of course she wouldn’t be able to even hope to make a conversation with Mr. Sinclair whom she idolizes as an artist❤

Omg poor Jane, being mocked by her peers for her art😭 I’m so protective of her now❤😭

Sinclair is sitting in the chair opposite holding her work as if it was made of glass, mouth agape and stars in his eyes for Sinclair has never seen such beauty put on paper before. He has seen the great classics, visited the Sistine Chapel, but for the first time he feels he is looking at true art. And then when he looks up at Jane he knows he is looking at perfection. THIS IS SUCH A SOFT MOMENT AND YOU DESCRIBED IT PERFECTLY-

I’m going to cry, he loves her so much! 😍❤❤

"My dear Miss Longmore, the greats are never appreciated in their time." HE IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT😱🥰

They need to marry asap, they’re so cuuuute!😍 And I love that they’re each other’s muse! 🥰

I also like the idea of them finding other artists and establishing a group of like minded creatives (like a Regency-era Bloomsbury set) but all the members - writers, artists, actors, musicians - are all terrible in their chosen crafts. "Not appreciated". It is only the other members who can see the beauty in their work. I love this idea as well! And your amazing HC made me get a HC of it, and like, what if their little group was actually praised for all their work a century or two later?! 😱 Especially Jane 😍

Honey I cannot thank you enough for this, you’ve made me so happy with this HC! ❤ Thank you so so much, I totally see this as canon now!😍🥰❤❤❤

[mcfiddlestan]

Ten Random Lines

Ten Random Lines

Rules: pick any ten of your fics, scroll to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people. I was tagged by @mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea.

Tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do it! Also, I did not go to the midpoint on some, lol.

P.S. Not all of these are published. Some were and were taken down, and some aren't finished yet...and may never be, idk.

From Just A Fool, Chapter 5: Clint Throws A Hissy Fit and Natasha Packs a Punch (Frostiron, post-Avengers AU)

Natasha relaxed minutely, dropping her arms to her sides, absently fingering the handle of the knife she kept strapped to her side. “Stark—”

“When did it start?” he blurted out over her soft voice.

“When did what start?”

He turned, setting his dark, determined gaze on her. “You and Barton.” Tony’s lips quirked up at the way Natasha visibly bristled. It was the first time he had ever seen her, this agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., caught off guard. “Was it in Budapest?”

“How is that important to this discussion?”

“What discussion? You dragged me out here to badger me into breaking up with Loki.” Her head jerked in surprise and confusion and he nearly groaned in frustration. “I am, on occasion, not stupid. I can read a room.”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, even moving away from him, and now he could add seeing genuine emotion to the list of firsts. He didn’t follow her, but he turned to watch her, leaning against the railing casually, enjoying how he was getting to her. “I wasn’t going to badger you, for the record. I was just going to…forcibly convince you.”

From Blank Page, Chapter 14: Waiting for You to Bring Me to Life (Frostiron, Modern AU, friends to lovers to exes to lovers again)

Loki glanced down at one arm, then the other, then his lap. “Including the serpent…nine.”

“Nine?” Tony’s eyes nearly bugged out. “Well, let me see ’em.” Again, Loki made no move to show Tony anything. Tony tilted his head. “Hey, I showed you mine.” He tapped a finger twice to the arc reactor and grinned. “Now show me yours.”

Damn it. That was a fair point. Too fair for Loki to ignore. Moving quite slowly, he tucked one arm into his shirt, then the other, and carefully tugged it over his head. He kept the soft, green garment bundled in his lap, over his right hand. Loki wasn’t normally shy to show off his ink when asked, but it would be different with Tony. His reaction would be different.

He sat there, giving Tony time to take it all in — at least, to take in the tattoos that were visible to him. The most obvious of which was the one of Jörmungandr. It was in varying shades of blacks, greens, and golds, winding around his thin but muscular arm. The head, jaws open in a silent roar, red tongue lashing out, took up a good portion of the left side of his chest. The serpent’s tongue seemed to be licking at the sparse patch of hair in the center of Loki’s chest. Tony angled his head, touching a hand lightly to Loki’s right arm, and he obligingly turned so he could get a look at the emblem of theatre masks in the form of skulls, black and gray, with red accents, surrounded by the words Laugh Now, Cry Later on his right bicep.

“Did Bucky do all this?”

“Yes,” Loki answered softly. “He’s quite talented. Steven initially helped with some of the drawings and outlines, and he provided many samples displayed in the shop and the books. But, James has become quite a proficient artist himself.” He was rambling; words were tumbling out of his mouth. “The shop is doing quite well, actually; well enough that he and Steven are thinking of purchasing a home and marrying next year when Steven completes his army service.”

Tony made an impressed face but said nothing else on the subject. “Where are the other ones?” Loki hesitated again, briefly, before turning his back to Tony, showing him the side view of a black raven with its wings spread across his left shoulder blade. He slightly shivered when Tony brushed his fingers over the wings. “Wow…nice.”

Righting himself, Loki bent over to lift the legs of his loose-fitting pants, and Tony lowered down to a knee on the floor, his mouth still hanging open. “That is James’ design of a rising phoenix.” He pointed to the black, red, and gold design rising from a bed of black and red flames that encircled his right calf.

“Damn, that’s kick-ass,” Tony murmured.

Loki grinned softly, then pushed his pant leg down and put forward his left leg. “And, obviously, those are flames.” The flames seemed to emit from Loki’s ankle, starting in deep reds and oranges, and bled into cooler blues and purples.

“Those are really nice. Bucky does good work.” Tony spoke his complimentary words and moved to sit on the bed again.” What about the other ones?”

Loki dropped his other pant leg and fixed Tony with what he knew was a serious gaze. “Uh, well… they’re not anything spectacular, like the others you’ve seen — just a, um…,” he glanced down toward his lap, and clamped a hand over his right wrist, still hidden beneath his removed shirt.

“What?” Tony chuckled. “Show me.”

“Yes, of course,” Loki murmured. He didn’t pull his hand from under the shirt. Instead, he shoved his hand through the neck hole, exposing just enough of his wrist to reveal a thick-lined, black symbol. “There’s not much else to it. It’s a Norse rune. It means peace.”

“Cool. Let me see.” Tony reached for him, getting a loose grip on Loki’s forearm, and pushed at the shirt. Loki tugged, trying to snatch his arm away. “Wait—”

“No. Anthony, don’t.”

“I just wanna see — let me see—” There was a brief struggle before Tony ultimately yanked the shirt away. And he spotted the three dates inked into Loki’s skin beneath the rune. “What the…?”

Once Tony’s fingers loosened from around his wrist, Loki pulled his arm back, covering his wrist with his left hand, and holding it to his chest, where his heart was racing.

“What is that?”

“Nothing,” Loki muttered. Tentatively, he lifted his eyes to Tony’s. Then dropped them again when he held out his hand, palm up.

“Loki.”

He was kicking himself for these particular tattoos now. Bucky had warned him. Get them in a more hidden place, he’d said. Remember, not remind. But, stubborn as a mule, Loki wanted what he wanted, where he wanted it. And Bucky acquiesced. Breathing fast, squeezing his eyes shut tight, Loki lowered his arm to Tony’s hand.

To Tony's view, the dates, inked in the simple format of the numbers of the months, days, and years, were upside down, so he shifted to read them better. His breath released in a quiet gasp that Loki felt fan over his skin, followed by a swipe of his finger. When Loki finally opened his eyes, he saw Tony was pointing at the first date.

“That’s the day your mom died.” It was a statement, not a question, but Loki still felt compelled to confirm it.

“Yes.”

He watched Tony swipe his finger over the third date in a darker black than the others, which meant it must have been more recent. “This…” His finger still on Loki’s racing pulse, Tony flicked his eyes up. His voice was barely above a whisper and tight with emotion. It cut deep, right into Loki’s soul. “This is the day I came home.”

Straining to keep his cool, to control the trembling of his chin, Loki nodded.

“Why?”

Loki moved his eyes to his wrist, quickly flicking away a tear that rolled down his cheek. “They…” Loki cursed the cracking of his voice. “Those are three important dates for me. Something significant, something that changed everything from that day forward, happened on each of those days.”

Loki’s bottom lip was still quivering as Tony ran his finger over the middle date. “Loki…what…what happened on this day?”Oh, gods. Loki’s left hand curled into the material of his shirt in his lap, and he cleared his throat so he could speak clearly. “It was…the day that Steven Rogers saved my life.”

From Empire State of Mind, Chapter 2: An Offer He Should Refuse (Frostiron, post-Avengers AU)

“Stark…”

“You shouldn’t have come here, Loki.” Tony spun around. “This isn’t a sanctuary for the criminally insane.” Tony thought about Clint and Natasha — and himself. “Mostly. You can’t just show up here and think everything is forgiven and —”

“I can make you a deal.”

Tony drew up short at the interruption. Once again, common sense was telling him he shouldn’t even listen, shouldn’t even consider the deal. But if Tony only relied on common sense, he wouldn’t be one of the richest men in the world. “What deal?”

Loki rose from the stool and slowly stepped to him. “Allow me to reside here for the week…and I will never bother you or the others again.”

Tony’s face relaxed, and he brought a hand up to stroke his goatee. It sounded too good to be true — which meant it probably was. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You can’t,” Loki answered simply. “Just as I cannot trust that you won’t contact your agency or your Director Fury and turn me over to them. But I can set your mind at ease on one point.”

‘What’s that?”

“You need not worry about any impending chaos or destruction. My magic is,” He lifted his hands, turning them as he looked at them. “Quite limited right now. And courting chaos is the farthest thing from my mind at the moment, to be honest.”

Tony’s eyes shot down to Loki’s hands after he lowered them to his sides again. “So you’re not going to conjure up your glow stick of destiny and try to put me under your magic spell or anything?”

Loki fought a smile. “No. My sceptre has been….” He looked away annoyed and sighed, “Confiscated. It’s hidden somewhere on Asgard by the Allfather’s magic. It would drain my own magic if I tried to search for it. And if I recall correctly, that didn’t work the first time.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed with a laugh. “I know. I just wanted to remind you of it.”

From Stay With Me, Chapter 1 (WinterFrost, Modern AU, mechanic!Bucky, graduate student!Loki)

Bucky stuck a cigarette between his lips and rose to excuse himself. He had been outside for a few minutes, enjoying his cigarette in silence when he felt another’s presence. He didn’t have to look to know it was Steve. “I’m fine,” he murmured while exhaling a thick plume of smoke.

A chuckle sounded beside him. “How’d you know I was gonna ask you that?”

“‘Cause I know you.”

“Ha, yeah.” Both men went quiet again, the crickets’ song and the clinking of ice in Steve’s tea the only sounds between them. “You gonna come around on Sunday?”

Bucky glanced at his friend, in the middle of taking another drag from the cigarette. “Remind me…?”

“Peggy’s birthday.”

“Oh! Yeah, absolutely.”

“Good,” Steve breathed the word out on an almost relieved sigh. “I need you here. Peggy and me, we’re gonna tell Abraham about the engagement.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Steve barked out a laugh. “No — sorry,” Bucky chuckled. “You know what I mean.” Steve nodded and took another drink of his tea. Bucky frowned in thought and glanced at him. “I didn’t know you still kept in touch with him.”

Steve shrugged. “He and his wife raised me, Bucky.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “You lived with them for four years, Steve,” he pointed out. “Until you aged out.”

“I know,” he responded softly. Bucky took one last drag before stubbing out the cigarette and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “He wrote to me, Buck,” Steve mumbled into the silence. “His wife sent me stuff…while I was over there.” He continued to speak softly, but with conviction, as he always did when he spoke of his time in Iraq.

Bucky stood completely still, forcing himself not to shuffle his feet or make some excuse to go inside. He always felt a little uncomfortable when Steve brought up Iraq. Without ever delving too much into his reasons, he blindly assumed it was guilt; guilt he carried for not going back for a second tour with Steve, for choosing to walk away from the army to be a regular mechanic in a regular garage in a regular city, leaving Steve without the expert sniper that he was.

That Steve had a rougher time there, saw worse things than the first time, and lost some men, only made Bucky feel worse. They never discussed it after that first time. And even now, as the two friends, who had known each other since they were boys in Brooklyn, stood under the dim yellow porch light, it grew more tense by the second.

"I better get going," Bucky finally said, unable to take it another minute.

Steve’s head shot up. “Already? You sure you’re all right to ride?”

“Had a long week. And I’m fine, Stevie. Don’t worry so much.” Bucky held out a hand to him, and Steve gripped his tightly. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Promise.” He released Steve’s hand and moved to head down the walkway to his motorcycle parked in front on the street.

“You’re not gonna say bye to the others?” Steve aimed a thumb behind him at the house, even as Bucky swung a leg over the bike and reached for his helmet.

“Do it for me?” He chuckled at Steve’s eye-rolling and started up the motorcycle. “See you later, buddy.”

From All I Ask, Chapter 2 (WinterFrost, Modern AU, veteran!Bucky, artist!Loki)

April in New York was beautiful. New York was beautiful; he mentally corrected himself. California had been nice; Los Angeles was sunny, warm, and very laid-back. Too laid-back. Loki thought he would go mad if he spent too long there. It wasn't as if he wasn't inspired by the snow-capped mountains in the distance, the sandy beaches that stretched for miles north and south, or the acres of orange and lemon groves he'd seen once on a helicopter ride. But that much free time, in that beautiful of a place, turned out to be detrimental to his productivity.

New York was more to his liking. Bustling city life was where Loki needed to be. Taking up his pencil, he began to sketch his view of the horizon languidly. The sun was starting to hide behind some skyscrapers, but the sky was lit up in so many vivid colors that it was difficult to resist putting it down on paper so he could add the colors later. Colored pencils, perhaps. Maybe watercolor.

As he sketched, the pungent odor of cigarette smoke reached his nose. Confused, since it wasn’t usually cigarettes one could smell around here, Loki searched for the source. He found it on the balcony just below his.

There was his hearing-sensitive neighbor, one floor below, straddling the sill of his open window, taking a deep drag off a cigarette. Irritation hit Loki first — at the cigarette stench and because the man had made more complaints about Loki's music and work hours. And because deep down he'd never lost the enjoyment of being a pain to others – and because he was such a little shit – Loki was all set to yell down for his downstairs neighbor to put out his cigarette when the light of the setting sun hit a window somewhere across from them. It reflected onto the other at just the right angle.

Loki went still. The picture of him sitting on the sill brought an image to Loki’s mind, and, quietly, he flipped a page. He began a light outline, moving his pencil blindly over the page as Loki watched his neighbor bring the cigarette to his lips again. He shot a quick look down at his sketch, using the tip of his finger to smudge a line here and there. Catching movement in his vision, Loki saw his newest subject – he was horrible with names, honestly – had risen and stretched out his arms.

That was when Loki caught sight of something abnormal on his left arm. Marks – no, Loki decided. Scars. Deep scars, only shades lighter than his other arm, were etched into the skin, from shoulder to wrist. Perhaps his hand, too, but he wore a black fingerless glove hiding the majority of his hand. Loki inhaled sharply, seeing the beauty in the marring of his otherwise flawless skin, seeing the potential of how he could recreate it on paper. Or canvas. Or anything. 

It was too late when Loki decided to call out to him – and say what, he questioned himself. His neighbor had ducked back inside. Loki looked over his rough drawing, wondering if the man downstairs would sit for him just a couple of times. Maybe.

From Untitled SamTasha fic, Chapter 1 (SamTasha, Stucky, Modern AU, firefighter!Sam & Steve, musician!Bucky, businesswoman!Natasha)

Sam Wilson wasn't paying attention. A swift sucker punch to the gut brought him back around. Groaning, half bent over, he glared up at his friend and working partner, Steve Rogers. "What the fuck, Steve?" Steve only shrugged and grinned. That stupid, boyish little smile that made everyone back at the firehouse think he was such a sweet guy. "This is what happens, my friend, when you sleep on the job." Sam straightened, keeping a hand pressed to his stomach. "Excuse me if I'd rather watch a pretty lady box than be your damn coach." "Hey, don't do me any favors. But I'd be careful with that one." Steve glanced back at the redhead and the man with a bun at the back of his head sparring in the boxing ring. "Pretty sure she could wipe this entire gym floor, the one above it, and below it, with your ass in a cinch." Sam chortled. "You know I'd let her, too. Look at her." He urged Steve to turn around completely and bit into his bottom lip. They weren't the only ones being spectators. Several of the gym's patrons had taken a break from their regimes to watch the skilled match. Grunts of exertion and cries of both defeat and victory sounded between the man and woman as punches were blocked and kicks were averted. "What is that?" Sam asked, crossing his arms. "That's no regular boxing." Steve made a noise of uncertainty. "Looks like some mix of martial arts. Krav Maga maybe." The man ducked a deft sweep of the woman's leg by dropping into a split and Steve's brows lifted, impressed. He chuckled and slapped a hand to his friend's chest. "Come on, Wilson. We're wasting time. We have to head back in a bit." Sam sighed, torn, and not a little disappointed. "Yeah…wait." Steve scoffed under his breath and looked back in time to watch as the redhead landed a swift kick to the man's chest, making him stagger back. And she spared no time to let him gather himself; she launched herself at him, clasped her hands onto his broad shoulders and used them to swivel herself around him, not once but twice, propelling herself with her legs – short as they may be, but clearly strong – and ended it all by trapping his neck between her thighs and landing with a slam that echoed through the gym to the canvas.

“Son of a bitch,” Steve muttered in a shocked gasp. He looked over at Sam and saw the curve of his lips. “No.”

“I have to.”

“Damn it, Wilson.”

“Five minutes. I swear.”

“We're gonna be late.”

“I'll make it up to you, okay?” Sam pleaded even as he started to back away, moving toward the ring where Natasha was helping Bucky to his feet.

“Damn right you will. You're buying the food tonight.”

Sam stopped. “What? Why?”

“I'm on chef duty for tonight; you're making me late, so you have to buy the food.”

Sam lifted dark eyes to the ceiling, brushing Steve off. “Fine, whatever. Meet me in the locker room.”

“Oh, no.” Steve began to unravel the tape around his large hands. “I'm watching this. Gotta make sure I get all the details to tell the guys.”

Sam frowned hard at him, but Steve merely sent him that boyish grin again. Steve got one hand free, and watched as Sam approached the redhead, her dark-haired friend practically limping away. He noted Sam’s usual moves; a bashful smile, maintained eye contact that thankfully, was more flirtatious than creepy, and an offering of his hand. He gestured as he spoke and Steve had to bite back a chuckle at the indifference on the redhead’s face. He turned away briefly, to toss the tape from his hands into a trash bin, and when he turned back, Sam was on his way back. With a giant smile on his face.

“Shit,” Steve breathed to himself. “You mean you actually got her name and number?”

“Better. I got her to agree to get a drink with me.”

Steve raised a brow, surprised yet skeptical. “A drink?”

“Yeah. Sort of a pre-date date. If we hit it off, she'll consider going on an actual date with me.”

Steve made an impressed face. “She's screening you. I like her already.” He started off toward the locker rooms and Sam fell in step beside him.

“Hey, you're not busy tomorrow night, right?”

“No, I'm off the next…” Realization dawning, Steve stopped and looked at Sam, jaw tight, eyes bright under lowered eyebrows. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Sam protested; but his smile was still too big. “All right, look. She agreed to drinks…but to make it more casual, and less like a real date – I get the feeling she's been let down a lot,” he added as an aside, “I agreed to bring along a friend. And she'll bring one, too.”

Steve's head fell back, an exhalation of breath that sounded like a pained groan released. “Sam…”

“It's just drinks!” He promised. “And it'll be my treat.”

“You bet your ass it's your treat. Come on,” he started for the showers again. “I’ve got a meal to plan and you’ve got some begging to do.”

Sam rolled his eyes, grinning like an idiot, and followed.

From Dark Side (Part One of the Picture Perfect series), Chapter 23: The Definition of Gay and Birthday Sex

When Loki opened his eyes, Darcy had taken the seat directly across from them. He frowned at her and sat up. Tony moved to rest his head on Loki’s shoulder and curl himself around Loki’s arm, but he didn’t wake up.

“Has something happened?”

Darcy shook her head, her dark curls, spilling out from the bright turquoise knit beanie she wore, bounced around her shoulders. “Nah, I just felt like I was invading their time together. So, I came out here.” Her smile grew to show big white teeth. “And found you guys cuddling.”

Loki chuckled softly. He saw Darcy’s gaze focus on Tony, almost narrowing, and turned to look down at him himself. “What are you looking at?”

“How’d you do it?” she asked, her voice full of what sounded like wonder.

“Do what?”

“How’d you get Tony Stark to commit? Nobody’s ever been able to do it. Is it because he didn’t know he was gay?” She turned those big blue eyes on Loki and asked the question like she was asking if he wanted a piece of gum.

He grinned. “You’re under the assumption that people only fall into the two categories of ‘gay’ or ‘straight.’”

Darcy’s face contorted. “Tsch, yeah! Well, I mean, I know you don’t.”

“Do you?” Loki raised an eyebrow, crossed one long leg over the other, careful not to jostle or move a still-sleeping Tony.

“Yeah, because you were with Bucky, then Maria, and now Tony. So, you’re bi, right?”

Loki shrugged. “If that’s the name you wish to apply to it.”

Darcy tilted her head to the side and mimicked Loki’s position, crossing her legs. “What would you call it?” she challenged.

“I don’t attach any labels to myself, dear. Others seem more inclined and happy to do it for me.”

“But you guys,” she aimed a black-polished finger at him, then at Tony, back and forth a few times. “You and Tony, you do it a lot. I mean, that’s what I heard.”

Loki couldn’t help the curve of his lips. He glanced down at Tony when he buried his nose into the sleeve of Loki’s sweater for a brief moment. “You heard as in from someone else, or you heard as in you were eavesdropping outside my door?” 

Darcy made a horrified face. “Eww, gross, no! I meant like gossip. I. Hear. Everything, Loki,” she said with an authoritative air, pressing a hand to her chest. “That’s why I’m so surprised that Tony’s been with you for so long. Even with Pepper, it was off and on. And only for, like, a month at a time.”

“Is that so?”

She nodded knowingly, almost wisely, like she was teaching him a lesson. “So, what’d you do, huh? Did you use magic on him? Did you put him under some spell of yours?” She wiggled her fingers like a magician.

Loki’s chin lowered. “You jest, but your question suggests the only way Anthony Stark could fall in love is if he was tricked into it.”

Darcy’s shoulders and hands lifted in an innocent gesture. “I’m just saying, as far as I know, you’re the first person he ever said he’s loved. Besides himself, of course.” Loki smiled, chuckled, and nodded his head more in acknowledgment than agreement. “So…?”

Loki lifted his gaze to hers and smiled politely. “Sorry — Darcy, is it?” She nodded. “I’m afraid I am not inclined to discuss the details of my relationship with you. I mean, no offense. But I especially won’t discuss it when the other half of said relationship is awake and listening.”

Darcy blinked, and her mouth fell open as her eyes shot to Tony.

“Aw, man!” Tony sat up and playfully shoved Loki. “How’d you know?”

Loki cocked his head to the side. “I believe I’m familiar as to when you are awake or asleep after spending the last four months sleeping beside you, Anthony. Also, you laughed when Darcy said you’ve never loved anyone but yourself.”

“Shit, I gave myself away. You’re no fun.”

From As Long As You're Mine (Frostiron, post-Avengers AU)

“You lost?” he quipped.

Loki’s eyes remained fixed on Tony’s, and that sexy little smirk curved his lips. “Not at all. Thought I’d pop in and say hello.”

Tony forced out a chuckle, but that’s exactly what it sounded like — forced. “Yeah, right. Where’re your horns, Reindeer Games?”

Loki’s smirk melted into a dreamy grin and, clasping his hands behind his back, moved toward the bar. “I’m sure you’re aware I’ve managed to escape Odin’s clutches, yes?”

Tony nodded.

“Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to retrieve my sceptre or much else. I’m lucky I managed to snatch this off the hook in the prison they tried to secure me in.” He flicked the lapel of the coat before shrugging it off his shoulders and setting it aside as he slid onto one of the barstools.

“I’m not sure luck is a word that applies to anything that you do.” Tony hadn’t moved from his spot; he didn’t dare. If he moved over to the bar or anywhere near Loki, he knew they would both be in serious trouble.

Loki laughed softly, then gestured lightly toward the collections of bottles and glasses behind the bar. “Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?”

Damn it all to hell. “Fine,” Tony muttered and reluctantly made his way behind the bar, setting down his glass. “What’s your poison?”

“I am sure whatever it is you’re drinking will suffice.”

Without another word, Tony pulled out a tumbler from under the bar and filled it halfway with Jack Daniels. Seconds after sliding it across the counter to Loki, it slid back, empty. He looked at it, frowned.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Fuck. Deeply inhaling, Tony’s eyes flicked up, meeting a pair of deep green eyes. Green? Tony could’ve sworn Loki’s eyes were blue. He must have looked confused because… 

“Is there a problem?”

“No, I…I thought your eyes were blue. That’s all.” Dropping his gaze, Tony refilled his glass and Loki’s before placing it in front of him. He watched Loki’s fingers wrap around the glass, felt that damn rush again.

“That day, they were. A side effect of the Tesseract’s influence, thanks to the Chitauri. You’ll remember the Hawk’s eyes were similarly blue. More so than usual,” he added before Tony could respond. Loki took a long drink, swallowed, and sighed a bit at the burn down his throat to his empty stomach. When was the last time he  refueled? He couldn’t remember. He drank again. It wasn’t what he was used to on Asgard, he thought as he ran his tongue across his lips, but it was good. “I must admit, Stark…” 

Tony looked up at his name. It was the first time Loki had ever used it.

“I’m surprised you would remember the color of my eyes.” He lifted the glass again, fixed Tony with a steady gaze over its rim. “Should I be flattered?”

Tony feigned indifference, though inside everything was fluttering, beating a mile a minute, or generally spazzing out in a way he refused to acknowledge on the outside. He finished off his drink to calm it all down. “Are you asking permission? I thought you did what you wanted. Or is that just a bunch of bullshit?”

It was silent for a beat. “Quite right.”

Tony jerked back but could go nowhere when Loki’s arm snaked out, his hand fisting in Tony’s black Aerosmith tee, and pulled him across the bar to plant his mouth on his. Tony’s lips parted to object, but when he felt that long, velvety tongue slide into his mouth, he forgot whatever it was he was going to say.

From Second Time Around, Chapter 1: Thirty-Six Days Later (WinterFrost, Modern AU, disgraced vet!Bucky, college student!Loki)

The August sun was blazing down, overheating the concrete of the sidewalks and the black pavement of the parking lot, when James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes stepped through the sliding doors of the pristine white medical building. He slipped a dark pair of shades over his sleepy ice blue eyes and idly wished he hadn't worn a black t-shirt and dark jeans. But he always favored dark colored clothes. He took a deep breath, and though the air was thick and hot, he was just grateful to be outdoors for the first time in over a month.

A car horn sounded and an old station wagon pulled up to the curb. Bucky saw a female hand push out from behind the lowered window and wave him over, followed by his mother's overly sweet voice saying, "Yoo-hoo! Bucky, dear!"

A little embarrassed, Bucky gave a small wave back and turned to the orderly that had escorted him out, shook his hand, and laughed at the man's attempt at humor when he told Bucky to not call or write or visit.

He picked up his duffel bag of personal items from the bench he stood next to and headed to the station wagon, where both of his parents now stood outside the car, waiting for him. They both welcomed him with a hug; his mother's, as usual, feeling just a bit more genuine than his father's. They all climbed back into the car and started the drive back to their quiet little town, a couple hour's drive.

Bucky stared out the window, blankly watching the world pass by, barely listening to his mother rattle on, filling him in on everything that had happened while he was cooped up in a rehabilitation facility for the past thirty-six days. Intermittently, he brought a cigarette to his lips and inhaled the rich taste of tobacco and smoke. Apparently, nothing much had changed; summer block parties were had, recent graduates both left for college and returned from it — nothing Bucky really missed out on. But the big story of the week, and likely for the rest of what was left of the summer, was about the bravery and courage of the town's favorite war hero, Captain Steve Rogers  — who also happened to be Bucky's best friend.

Steve, an Army captain, had been going on his daily jog one morning, running from one part of town to another, and back. He often liked to run alongside the ravine that crossed through the city, as it veered away from the heaviest parts of traffic. It just so happened on this particular morning, a young girl had fallen into the ravine, chasing after her ball and couldn't climb back out, after twisting her ankle. Steve had heard her cries, climbed down and carried her, and her ball, to the nearest medical office, and saved the day.

Bucky's mother fed the tale to him, sounding as prideful as a mother hen. Rightfully so, though, as she had taken on the role of parent after Steve's mother died when he was just eighteen, not long after both he and Bucky had left to join the army. Her death left his childhood friend an orphan, as his father had died when he was barely out of toddlerhood. Bucky leaned his head back against the red leather bench seat of the station wagon, concentrating on his breathing, exhaling long plumes of smoke, letting those pesky feelings of resentment and hurt seep from him, like a drop of water sliding down his back to eventually dissipate in darkness somewhere. His mother always spoke of Steve in high regard. And why shouldn't she? The guy was the shining example of the all-American good guy.

From Untitled MaLoki fic, Prologue (Maleficent/Loki, AU crossover between Maleficent (2014) and Thor (2011))

The explosions were getting louder, closer.  Maleficent, the Younger, could feel the ground shake and the windows with it. She heard voices outside and downstairs, yelling and screaming. When she looked out the window in her bedroom, she could see tunnels of smoke in the distance and shadowed figures fighting on the hills of Svartalfheim. Father was out there somewhere. 

There was so much happening, but she didn’t know what to do. What she could do. Her magic was still too powerful for her to wield. Mother was training her. But then the war happened. 

“Maleficent!“

She turned her head at her mother’s voice, shaken by its urgency. She slipped on her shoes and ran to find her. “Yes, Mama?” She stood looking over the railing where Mother was searching for her frantically in the foyer. 

“Come. Quickly. We must go.” She met Maleficent at the bottom of the stairs, and took her by the arms. “Where is Astrid?”

“I am here, milady,” a voice spoke from a doorway leading to the kitchen. 

Maleficent’s mother took her hand and reached for Astrid’s — then placed Maleficent’s into Astrid’s. “Take her. Make haste to the field beyond the forest.”

“No, Mother, I want to stay with you.”

Maleficent, the Elder, knelt before her young daughter, her fingers trailing down her chestnut hair, falling over her shoulders on either side of the horns growing out of her head. Maleficent saw her swallow thickly and her stomach twisted with anxiety. “I’m afraid you cannot, pieni korppi. The Einherjar are getting closer. You must go.” [Little Raven]

Maleficent felt tears sting her yellow eyes. “But I could help. I could—“

“No.” Maleficent the Elder was quick to quiet her daughter, her only child. She rose again and turned to Astrid. As she spoke to her, Maleficent the Younger looked past her, out of the entrance to the home she lived in with her mother and father. She could see the explosions growing nearer and nearer. 

“And remember, Astrid: Neshihi rouhilejee, tifidhoh djonta elithidheene yr ajamihi/.” [To save our people, there is nothing I would not sacrifice.]

“Yes, milady. And may the threads of the Norns guide you on your journey.”

Maleficent the Elder nodded. She turned as Maleficent called her, expecting the young fairy beside her, but found her just inside the entrance. “Maleficent…?”

Maleficent stared, frozen in horror, as a ball of orange fire headed straight for them. Her mother shouted and instinctively, Maleficent raised her arms, her magic — purple at its edges — coming to her fingers. But she never got to use it. An arm wrapped around her waist and she was hurled in the air, her young but powerful wings spread and wrapped around her body protectively as she landed directly in the arms of Astrid. 

“Run!“

“Mother!”

Maleficent reached for her, but Astrid was strong. Tears streamed down her face as she watched her mother — her strong, willful mother — hold the ball of fire back, her own magic a cobalt blue. The elder Maleficent strained and the younger knew she wouldn’t hold it much longer. 

Their eyes, matching sets of yellow with dark green edges, locked, and Maleficent heard her mother’s voice in her mind: Go, my child. I will always be with you. Kira liljal nol. Now! [I love you.]

Maleficent stopped struggling and let Astrid take her from her home. As the image of her mother being consumed by a wall of fire burned into her memory, Maleficent vowed revenge on Bor, son of Buri, and the realm of Asgard.

Apologies for the length. LOL. Three or four sentences is hardly anything. If you read this far, yay! Thanks!

xoxo, La

[anitabyars]

Unending Love by Stacey Lynn is now live!

A Sexy, Small Town, Secret Baby, Sports, Standalone Romance From Bestselling Author, Stacey Lynn.

Everyone knows who Caleb Kelley is. I’m at the top of my game, known all around Colorado and beyond for not only my elite skills in professional hockey, but also my family’s ranching heritage. For this reason, I trust very few people as I’m used to strangers and so-called friends trying to get close to us for a piece of fame.

But when I receive a letter from a woman I slept with years ago, letting me know I’m a father—I implicitly trust her. Emily Russo is forever ingrained in my memory, and is the exception to every rule.

That one night I spent with her was unforgettable. I still remember the feel of her lips and the way her body moved under mine. For years, I’ve regretted not leaving her my phone number because if I had, I wouldn’t be seeing the first glimpses of my son in glossy pictures. Instead, I would've held him in my arms the minute he was born.

Now, I not only have to get to know my son, I also have to convince Emily that the spark that once burned between us is still smoldering, ready to burn even hotter a second time around.

But it’s not only hanger-ons who follow me. There are others who want to see this golden boy tossed off his throne. Too bad they don’t know what lengths I’ll go to protect what’s mine. I’ll do anything for Emily and my son. My love for them is unending.

Download today on Amazon, Apple Books, Barnes & Noble, Google Play, and Kobo!

Amazon: https://amzn.to/3tRqKuE

Amazon Worldwide: http://amzn.to/41WYljs

Apple Books: https://bit.ly/48vsvN4

Nook: https://bit.ly/3vKSn92

Kobo: https://bit.ly/48TG0G5

Google Play: https://bit.ly/3tSNqdS

Add to Goodreads: https://bit.ly/3RYverh

Meet Stacey

Stacey Lynn likes her coffee with a dash of sugar, her heroes with a side of bossy, and her wine a deep shade of red.

The author of over thirty romance novels, many of which have been best-selling titles on Amazon, AppleBooks, and Barnes & Noble, she loves being able to turn her vivid imagination into a career that brings entertainment and joy to her readers. Focused on sports romance and emotional, small-town romance, she also loves stretching herself in different genres.

Born in Texas and raised in the Midwest, she now makes her home in North Carolina and loves all things Southern. Together with her ultimate tall, dark, and handsome hero, she has four children. Her life is a chaotic mess that fights with her Type-A, list-making, neurotically organized preferences and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Connect with Stacey

Website: www.staceylynnbooks.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6995826.Stacey_Lynn

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Stacey-Lynn/e/B00CD6VVQG/

Facebook: www.facebook.com/staceylynnbooks

Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/staceyssultryreaders/

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My Review

5 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

This! This right here is my kind of read! A story that really brought all the feels. Full of emotion, family, love, heart, and passion. Right from the start I was pulled in and pretty much didn’t put it back down until it was over. I spent half the time reading this book smiling and the other half falling in love with this couple and their son as well as Caleb’s family members.

This is Emily Russo and Caleb Kelley’s story and I loved every minute of it!

Emily Russo hadn’t planned on getting pregnant when she was twenty-one, her son a product of the only one-nightstand she ever had, on the night of her sister’s bachelorette party. She also hadn’t planned on finishing up her college degree in middle school education and moving from Iowa to Colorado, with only the help of her best friend, Gianna. For three and a half years she’d tried to find him. All of her Google searches for “Caleb” came back with nothing. So she finally gave up a year ago. It had been hopeless trying to find Landon’s father. And then out of the blue Gianna called and said she had found him. There was no way. In all the places. She had to be wrong. Could it really be him?

“I had a first name and the memories of one of the sexiest, greatest nights of my life, and then a goodbye kiss…”

Caleb Kelley went from a minor league hockey player, to weeks later, stepping on the ice and getting to do his rookie skate on his home state’s ice arena. The arena where he grew up coming to games. Dreaming of the day when his name would be echoed on the ice by the announcer and skating on that ice. Three years later, he was living the dream. Until he found out about a son he never knew he had, with the one girl he never could forget!

If you want a swoony read with a hero so sweet you can literally taste it…Unending Love is the one that will give it to you. This was charming, full of heat and romantic! One to Pick Up And Savior!

I received an early copy and this is my honest review.

[refiwrites]

Change Your Ticket

Pairing: Young! Remus Lupin x GN! Reader

Requested?: Yes

Summary: Keeping your relationship with Remus Lupin a secret is a struggle.

Word count: 1.5k

Warning/s: none? just fluff

Note: another songfic!! read well! also a little bonus in the end ^_^

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

Watching you get dressed

Messes with my head

Remus stared longingly at what seemed to be the light of his life, watching as you wore the last of your clothes hastily. He licked his lips in a concentrating manner, as though memorizing every move you made.

Take that bag off your shoulder

Come get back in bed, we still got time left

This don’t have to be over

“I don’t get what’s the rush for, dear.” He says seemingly out of breath, maybe he was just focused on you that he forgot to inhale oxygen. You slung your bag over your shoulder, shrugging with a slight smile. “Don’t want to be late for our first class, right?”

“It’s six am in the morning.” He drawled out, moving further to grab ahold of your wrist to tug you back down onto the bed. You flumped beside him with an ‘oof’

And you say it’s hard to keep a secret

Girl, don’t leave me all alone in this hotel

“I thought you didn’t want anyone seeing us?” You say, dropping your bag on his bed before holding his face in your hands, he looked like an angel who’s just been woken up. Instinctively, he leaned onto your touch, eyes fluttering closed as he breathes heavily.

And these shades can hide us from the streets, yeah

One weekend, I’ll promise that I’ll never tell

“It’s not that I don’t want anyone knowing about us, I just know the others are going to make a very, very big deal out of us and I don’t think I can stand that.” He speaks almost on the brink of falling asleep again. You giggle, stroking his cheeks and planting a feather-light kiss on his chin. The two of you had been dating for a couple of months now almost for a year, sure at the beginning it was easy dodging things here and there, but the longer it became, the more difficult it was to not just shout your love for the boy over the rooftops and vice versa.

You should probably stay, probably stay

A couple more days

Often, Remus just wanted to risk it and hold your hand while in the hallways, while you wanted to be able to just give him a peck or two in public.

Come on, let me change your ticket home, oh

“Just stay here a little longer, won’t you?” He whispers. “I’d love to, but they’d see us, and some of my roommates are going to wonder where on earth I have been.” You speak.

You should probably stay, be with me, a couple more days

Come on let me change your ticket home

With a very long farewell with Remus trying to keep you in bed, you were able to convince him that you’ll join him later again, but for now it was time to pretend you two were just the best of friends and try to keep it on the low.

Don’t go, it’s not the same when you’re gone

And it’s not good to be all alone

“Hey!” You greet one of your best friends as you took a seat in the Great Hall. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” (F/N) said. “Sorry, just got a little busy working.” You grinned, hoping your lie wasn’t noticeable. But it was enough considering (F/N) fell for it. “Alright, oh hey have you heard about…”

As the two conversed, Remus, who was a few rows of chairs away sat with Sirius within front of them being James and Peter.

So you should probably stay, be with me, a couple more days

Come on, let me change your ticket home

He was unable to keep his gaze off you, until there was a pinch on his arm which made him look to his side. “Hey what was that for?” He rubbed his arm. Sirius mockingly tried to copy you, twirling his hair and such which made Remus scoff and roll his eyes. “Oh Moony!” Sirius teased which earned him a smack from Remus.

“He’s in love!” James prodded.

“Am not!” Remus retorted.

“Then why else would you be staring at (L/N)?”

“I wasn’t— What are you on about?” Remus lied but he stumbled upon his words. James, Sirius, and Peter looked at each other before looking at Remus. Remus felt like he was in a hot seat looking at them. “What…? I’m not!”

And you say it’s hard to keep a secret

Girl, don’t leave me all alone in this hotel

“Suuree…” James said before taking a sip of his juice. Sirius playfully slung his arm over Remus and spoke, “Y’know Moons, if you ever need flirting tips, I’m your man.” Remus shook his head.

And these shades can hide us from the streets yeah

One weekend I’ll promise that I’ll never tell

Remus forgot how hard it was to not grab your hand in hallways whenever you both find yourselves walking to the same class. He resisted the urge to offer himself to carry your bag whenever you found yourself carrying a ton of books and parchment.

You should probably stay, probably stay, a couple more days

Come on, let me change your ticket home, oh

You should probably stay, be with me, a couple more days

Come on let me change your ticket home

Now it was potions class, and they were tasked to finish their strengthening solution. However, Remus couldn’t keep his eyes off you again as you were paired with a boy who looked to be interested in you than passing potions.

Instead of listening to his professor, he was listening to the both of you.

“(Y/N), hey is this right?” The boy, who’s name is Jones, a fellow sixth year asked you as he stirred the pot. You glance and lean over to him to inspect the inside of the pot. Although Jones seemed to be staring at you rather than the potion.

Don’t go, it’s not the same when you’re gone

And it’s not good to be all alone

“I didn’t know you had (E/C) eyes.” He spoke. You look up at him and you shrug, going back to your seat. “It’s not really that hard to miss. And here,” you say, handing him the powdered griffin claw. As he reached out to take it you felt his hand linger a little longer on yours before taking it.

Don’t go, it’s not the same when you’re gone

Come on, let me change your ticket home, oh

You retract your hand and smile patiently at him. “(Y/N), are you free this Saturday?” He suddenly asks. You turn to him, when you opened your mouth, he spoke again. “I mean if you’re not busy then maybe…Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?”

You almost let out a laugh but you held your composure. You appreciated that he found you interesting but you were quick to reject him politely. “Sorry Jones, but I’ve got to study with (F/N) for our exams.” You say. He looked dejected but nodded.

“Oh, alright.”

Why don’t we make it right?

Girl, I don’t wanna say goodbye

Remus couldn’t help but smile as he caught a look of the dejected face of Jones, that might be evil but that’s what he gets. He also felt his heart jump as after that little interaction between you and Jones, you turn around to exactly look at him. He nods at you and you mirror his actions before returning to the task at hand.

“Mr. Lupin, have you got an answer to my question, or would you rather stare off into space?” The teacher said which made Remus shake his head with wide eyes as he coughed. “Uhm… yes.”

You should probably stay, probably stay, a couple more days

Come on let me change your ticket home, oh

You hid a laugh as he answered the question.

You should probably stay, be with me a couple more days

Come on, let me change your ticket home

Once classes were over, you gathered all your things and slung your bag over your shoulder. Walking out in the hall you could feel someone catching up to you. You turn and see Remus, out of breath.

“Hey.” He greets, looking down at you.

“Hey.” You greet back.

Don’t go, it’s not the same when you’re gone

Come on, let me change your ticket home

Remus held in a breath as he looked at you. The stare you gave him was enough to have his hand act on its own and hold yours. Your eyes look rapidly between his hand on yours and his face. You weren’t expecting him to be the first one to crack and reveal what was going on between you two.

But you weren’t complaining, you knew how much this meant to Remus and his thoughts. He looked at you with a shy grin and with a small squeeze on your hand. “I like this.” You speak.

“I like it too.” He holds your hand up to subtly give the back of your hand a small kiss.

BONUS:

“PADFOOT, WORMTAIL! I’VE COME WITH NEWS!” James shouted at them. “Huh?” Peter says, looking at James. “What?” Sirius says. “I can’t believe Moony lied to us!” James dramatically says. “Yeah, look he gave me the answers to our test, but I’ve got half the score!” Sirius said. James snaps his head to look at Sirius “Wait he gave you the answers? Why didn’t you tell me— never mind, the thing is—”

“Is it (Y/N) and Remus holding hands? Cause look.” Peter says, pointing at their friend and you, who seemed to enjoy walking towards the shade under the tree, possibly to study together. The two scrambled together to get a better look. Indeed, there it was, the two of you sitting together, laughing at something Remus probably said.

“Holy heavens.” Both James and Sirius say.

[gotnofucks]

Chemical Romance

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: Chris won’t have you running away from him. You’re his. He owns your heart, and now he’ll own all of you.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: RPF, smut, slight dubcon(ish), jealous and possessive Chris, toxic relationship, recording without permission, forced marriage

A/N: I wrote this months ago and pulled it out to share it with my bestie @donutloverxo​ . Berry finally convinced me to post this and helped me beta this. Babe, I love you!

You were way past your teenage years, and yet you had the urge to giggle like one. If you licked your lips, you could still taste the trace of wine that had stained his lips. The memory of them pressing against you, brushing gently until they tangled in a mix of tongue and teeth had a delicious heat burning in your face. This was a good date, the third good date with a good man you met, and you were excited for more.

Looking over your shoulder you saw the lights of his car disappearing in the dark of night and you sighed contently, shutting your door behind you and dropping your keys in the bowl by the door. All of a sudden, your body broke into goosepimples, a chill settling over you and it took you a moment to understand why. Your body was recognizing the dark presence before your mind could.

“Good evening sweetheart. Had a good date?”                                                      

The door was right behind you, you could easily grab your car keys right now and run away. And yet all you could do was hold onto the wall as your knees trembled. You’d never been good at running away from him anyway.

Chris was lounging on your sofa, watching you with those arresting blue eyes that you knew changed shades with his mood. His beard was thicker than the last you’d seen him, and his lips were pulled into a sardonic smirk, eyes glinting furiously.

“How?” You sputtered, still rooted to your spot. You could run, you should run, but you knew you wouldn’t go far. He let you go only so far to give you a false sense of achievement, a mere taste of relief and freedom until he snatched you back to himself.

“I always think that every time you leave, it would be the last. You’ll realize that its futile, you’ll realize that we’re meant to be together.” Chris said, “But never did I imagine you to be stupid enough to be with another man.”

His voice had been described as dreamy by many, even by yourself, but right now it only rang of danger and anger. Softness was Chris’s weapon, to deliver the meanest words with a smile that was poison sweet. One time, you had loved to taste that poison yourself. Did it still run in your veins and taint you?

Looking at you from under his lashes, he spread his legs and beckoned you to him. You gulped before following, not daring to look away from him until you were before him.

“Kneel” He ordered softly. You knees hit the ground, the rug digging into your skin. He watched you watch him, eyes locked in a dialog of their own until his rough hand caressed the skin of your cheek. You leaned into his touch, hating yourself for being a slave to him and your desire. Even on your knees, the familiar feeling of peace flooded your senses. Nothing made you feel as alive as worshiping him. And nothing killed you as much as loving him.

“Please” You begged, pressing a kiss into his palm. “Don’t do this to me.”

Chris regarded you with a look that was almost tender, his blue eyes staring into your own as if unearthing every secret you had ever kept from him. He pulled you closer, close enough to have you raise up and hold his shoulders while his lips brushed gently against yours.

“For as long as I live, you are mine. You know that. Why must you fight it?”

It had been a couple months since you last saw him, since the pads of his fingers had glided over the curves of your body and claimed you as his. You melted, you melted like the butter in a hot pan, sizzling with the heat of his ardor. One taste of him and you were ready to forget why you had left him, why you had packed up and left his house when he was out. Chris Evans didn’t just play your body, he also played your heart. He loved you so hard that it hurt.

You wondered if you should fight, if you should scream or cry. But you knew it the moment you walked inside your house tonight: you were going nowhere but to him. He held you as you captured his lips in yours, a hand fisting his hair and tugging. He pulled until you were on his lap, his beard scratching your skin and reminding you of all the ways he had marked you before.

Panting, you pulled away when he breathily whispered your name, eyes liquid and feral and kind. He was a man of many layers and you had unveiled the darkest of them. He no longer hid the rawest parts of him, and you never knew if it was a good thing or not.

“Pack up, I’m taking you back home.” He said, hands settling on your waist. “I am not spending one more night in a bed without you.”

You nodded, stealing another kiss until you surrendered to his demands. Again.

Dodger ran to you, whining and wagging his tail as you sat down to give him better access. You’d missed your furry companion, his coat soft on your cheek when you nuzzled into him. Chris chuckled, rolling your bags into his room while you and Dodger had your little reunion.

“I am so sorry Bubba” You cooed to him, scratching behind his ears. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me, hmm?”

Dodger barked, rubbing his body against you. You laughed, cuddling your little boy. You’d missed waking upto him snuggled by your feet and the soft pattering of his feet as he followed you around.

“He didn’t eat right for a week after you left. You were being a bad mommy.” Chris said coming behind you. He petted Dodger before pulling you up by your arm, your chest flushed to his. You loved how he smelled of coffee and beer and cinnamon. He tasted of them too, bitter and addictive.

Your fingers traced a path in his beard, lips pressing into the hollow of his throat. It scared you how much power he had over you. You’d promised yourself you’ll break away from his hold when you found him snooping in your phone again. His possessiveness knew no bounds. If Chris had it his way, he’d hide you in a castle made only for his eyes. But right now, in the heaven of his arms, you couldn’t remember why you left him in the first place.

“I am sorry.” You whispered, hugging him tight. His arms came around you, holding you so possessively close that even death couldn’t rip you apart. Chemical romance, that’s how Scott had explained your relationship once. Your friends had stopped complaining, had stopped warning after losing count over how often you broke up and got back together.

“I am so pissed at you.” He said in your ear, breath warm on your skin. “I want to erase every lingering trace of that man’s touch from your body. But more than that, I need to remind you who you belong to.”

You refused to look at him, burying your head in his chest even as you held him tighter.

“I belong to you. I know it baby, I made a mistake.” You said, voice muffled. Chris tutted, pushing your face away firmly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze.

“Here I am, feeling guilty for even touching other women during a scene that is supposed to be my job. And my girl goes around fucking other men because we had an argument?” He hissed, a nerve throbbing in his temple. You pouted, bottom lip wobbling as you tried not to cry. You were raised to be a strong woman, someone who could speak for herself. How was it so easy for this man to reduce you to a sniveling woman for something that wasn’t even your fault.

“I didn’t fuck him.” You countered and Chris’s eyes flashed. You stared at each other until Chris practically growled and dragged you towards the bedroom. Dodger trailed behind you, stopping once Chris ordered him to stay put.

His bedroom, a space you had shared and abandoned all too many times was the same as always. It reeked of his aftershave and cologne, the stars winking at you from the window that overlooked the ground. Chris shut the door, rounding on you and pushing you towards the bed.

“You didn’t fuck him?” He spat, ticked off. “You let him touch you, you let him put his hands on what belongs to me.”

You shivered as your back met the cold sheets, bouncing slightly on the mattress. His anger was scary, but more than that it was exciting. It was you who had brought this strong, powerful man to this animalistic side. You, who could make him scowl and shout and get his heart pumping enough to bring blood to his face. You, who made him primitive as he held you down and fucked you into submission.

“We only kissed.” You said, knowing how to provoke him. That kiss was nice, it was sweet. But your body craved rough and hard, it craved to be possessed and used and worshiped. It craved Chris who left his handprints on your butt and his spent in your cunt. It craved Chris who kissed you until you were out of breath, who whispered the filthiest things to you as he buried himself in your warmth over and over until you were too hoarse to even cry.

He knew it, he read that in your eyes and in your touch that seared through the layers of clothes on his body. He knew you were getting under his skin on purpose, hurting him the way he hurt you so many times. Neither of you held back.

You tore away at his clothes, bucking your hips frantically in a bid to get closer. Chris cursed, squeezing your ass in his large hands and grounding his hardness on your thigh.

“You are testing me” He warned, naked flesh touching yours and hands entwining. You ignored him, the wetness dripping down your core begging his attention.

“Eat me” You cried, wiggling under him. He held fast, rubbing his cock on your abdomen, groaning softly. He nuzzled your neck, kissing softly on the spot he knew drove you wild. His weight prevented you from moving too much, not allowing you to do anything for yourself.

“You don’t tell me what to do baby. Not after letting another man touch you. Not after you walked out on me again.” He said angrily, forcing his gentle touch on your body that craved his roughness. You sobbed against his mouth, getting drunk on his lazy kisses and feather soft caresses. You knew what he was doing, you knew he wanted you to break and beg. And you had no dignity.

“Please” You begged, pathetically with tears in your eyes. “Give me what I want Chris. I’ll be good to you, I promise.”

He smirked, sucking a pert nipple in his mouth and rolling it between his tongue. You moaned, struggling to move more. It wasn’t enough to have you under him. He needed more than your compliance. He needed your surrender, he needed you to love him with a hunger as great as his. He was greedy.

“Even when you beg, you look like a goddess. You’re my angel, but I’m not gonna let you go to heaven. We’ll sin together in hell.”

He dove in, tongue swiping away your juice in a practiced move as you howled at the suddenness of his attack. Your thighs held his head captive between their plump flesh, mewls spilling from your mouth without restraint as he finally gave you what you wanted. You pulled on his hair, steering him closer to your core that was flaming under his mouth and flooding with pleasure.

“Oh Chris!” You moaned, writhing and trembling. You had missed his beard scratching the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, missed his nails digging in your flesh to keep you steady, missed his tongue poking inside your warm cavern to taste your sweet nectar. Chris never worshiped you like a devotee to the lord. He worshipped you like a man summoning the devil, by spilling blood and leaving marks that stain the soul.

“Look at you go darling, so beautiful” He praised, easing a finger inside you and curling it. You threw your head back, shattering with an orgasm that took your breath away. Pleasure was a feeling you were familiar with, but combined with Chris’s love and anger, it formed the most intoxicating mix that got you dizzy.

He kissed the swollen head of your clit, gently easing you down from your high with praises whispered directly to your leaking cunt. He cupped your pussy, grinding his heels against you as your eyes met.

“Nobody else will touch you here. Or anywhere else for that matter.” He ordered and you nodded, still desperate for him. His cock was red and angry, warm drops of precum leaking over your stomach and you tugged at him, asking to fill you up.

“Chris, I need you inside me. Please.”

He crawled up and laid beside you, jerking you on top of him. Your hands found his chest, lightly playing with his nipples and the spattering of hair there before moving down to cup his hardness and his balls. He jerked at the first contact, closing his eyes as his breath hitched and you smiled at your own effect over him. You could reduce him to a mess just as well he could to you.

Pumping his length, you licked it slowly, lathering it with your saliva. You remembered the day you’d named it Cumstopher Rogers and he’d slapped you with it, making you choke on him until you had to apologize.

“Put me inside you now because if I have to take over, I’ll choose which hole it goes in and you probably won’t like it.” He growled in impatience. You clenched, his threats going straight to your core.

You positioned yourself over him, sinking slowly and gently, feeling every part of him against your spongy walls. With your thighs flush to his, you stopped to just let the feeling of fullness last a little longer. No matter how many times you’d been with each other, the feeling of Chris being so deep inside you never got old. If you could, you’d never be empty.

“All my holes like your cock Mr. Evans. And I? I love it and your butt and your chest and arms and face and everything else.”

You moved at a slow pace, bouncing gently while holding onto his thighs. Taking his hand in yours, you placed it on your chest, asking him to play with your nipples as you rode him.

“You feeling powerful, baby? You feeling good bouncing on my dick?” He asked, pinching a nipple almost to the point of pain. You nodded, leaning down to kiss him as he started thrusting up a little, hitting your cervix when he went too deep. You rolled your belly, clenching your muscles around his length so that his eyes flew open and hands dug into the softness of your butt.

“Oh Chris, I missed this.” You told him, tasting the sweat on his temple. He nodded, his huge arms wrapping around you and pulling you intimately close.

“I missed you too, which is why I will make sure you never leave me. This is not your power move, this is mine.” He darkly murmured and your eyes met his in confusion. He looked at the side and you followed his gaze, mouth dropping open at the camera that blinked at you with a red light on.

“What the fuck, Chris?” You shout, trying to move away when he rolled you over and under him, thrusting in hard.

“Oh yes, what the fuck baby” He said, holding your wrists as he picked up his pace. “You think it’s okay to pack a bag and leave me every time? You think it’s okay to date other men, to kiss other men? You are mine. And if anyone needs proof of that, now I can show it to them.”

You cried out as he went harder, a pressure building deep inside your belly. Tears escaped your eyes, gazing into blue ones that you loved and hated with a passion. You could have asked him to stop now, you could shout that you don’t want him and he’s sick. But you didn’t. You knew he would stop if you really wanted him to, and as much as your heart broke and your chest tightened with hurt, you loved him. You loved his twisted ways to keep you with him. You loved it when he went above and beyond, got crazy in his desire for you. You were wanted. You were cherished.

“Fuck you.” You cursed, meeting every thrust of his with a raise of your hips. Your eyes closed, sweat dripping down your body as you let the animalistic part of you take over, screaming and tearing and fucking each other like two people whose only goal in life was to be embedded in the other’s heart and psyche.

“I’d like to see you try to walk out tomorrow after tonight.” Chris said, delivering punishing strokes that were agonizing and titillating, that were fire and ice. You held onto him, leaving crescent shaped scars to join the numerous tattoos across his body. He took you apart, fucked you so good all you could do was say him name and fall in a glittery haze of his presence. He came inside you, filling you to the brim and crushing your body with his weight.

You weren’t leaving, that much was obvious.

Throwing in your clothes haphazardly in the bag, you promised yourself this would be the last time you did this. You will not come back to this house and this bed. Chris and you were done for good. The past few months had followed the same pattern. You both rekindling the dying flame of your relationship, mending the broken hearts and trust until it went back to hell.

There were too many arguments, too much shouting and angry sex. Every time you sat down to talk, it ended with your legs in the air. Your mother was right. He wasn’t right for you. Chris wanted to be your hero and your villain. He wanted you to think of nobody but him. Any friends and family that warned you against him had to be cut off. He’ll dismiss every article the paparazzi published about him but would throw a fit if you so much as smiled at the cashier in the grocery store. He kept you close like a dog on a leash, feeling jealous at the very sight of you talking to any man. You’d wanted to give this relationship a chance, but as of twenty minutes ago, Chris had made sure it was over.

You wondered about taking your pictures, but it was better to stay away from any temptations. This was happening, and as much as it broke your heart, you will not come back to him. Zipping up your bag, you straightened just as Chris stormed inside the room, jaw clenched in anger.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He barked, “Put your stuff back. I’ll be damned if I let you leave me again.”

You scowled at him, wiping the stray tears from your eyes. He had no right to ask anything of you, not after what he had just done.

“Fuck off Chris. I am leaving, and you can’t stop me.” You shouldered past him, sadly looking at Dodger who was whining softly as he watched you move. He had seen this happen enough times to know that you’re not coming home.

Chris marched behind you, snatching your wrist and pulling you back to himself. The blue in his eyes was darker, like the sky covered in thunder clouds. You squirmed, pushing against him.

“You. Are. Not. Leaving.” He hissed, looking scary and mad.

“How dare you? After what you did today?” You sobbed, hitting your fists on his chest. He held your jaw, bringing your face closer to him so he could peer into your watery eyes.

“I proposed! I got down on one knee. What the fuck is your problem?” He shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.

You shook your head, looking at him with an expression of disbelief. Is he that oblivious?

“Marriage is permanent Chris” You said, voice suddenly soft. “Marriage is living your life devoted to your partner. We can’t break up and leave and come back again. It’s a responsibility. You and I, we haven’t been able to keep a stable relationship. How the hell will we keep a happy marriage?”

Chris frowned, not liking what you said. He pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his huge arms on either side. You could smell the chocolate and wine on his breath from dinner, his hair all messed up from when he ran his hands through it. On his neck still hung the necklace you’d got him.

“Look at me” He said, pressing his forehead to yours. You breathed deeply, finding it difficult to maintain an eye contact as charged with anger and passion as this one. “You love me, you still love me. It’s all in your eyes. Why won’t you marry me?”

You wanted to curl into a ball and cry. Why did loving him have to be so difficult? Was love worth the fights, the tears and pain and loss of independence? Was loving him enough to keep you going? You were so tired of this back and forth with him. You’d never even talked about marriage before, having been too busy trying to keep any sort of relationship alive. Why would he do this to you?

As your limbs got heavier, you leaned forward and hugged him. You held him to yourself, soaking in his warmth and smell inside you for what would be the last time. You could not give up so much of yourself to sustain this love. Soon enough, there would be nothing more to give and the love would be dead.

“You need to let me go Christopher” You said to him, lips close to his ear. “You need to understand that love is only the beginning. I can’t keep doing this anymore. Please, just let me go.”

Chris hugged you tighter, his head resting over yours and heart beating strong beneath your hand. He was your night, full of twinkling stars and dark mysteries. But dawn was approaching fast, and you needed to bid goodbye to the moon to greet the sun that awaited you.

“Never.” He promised, “You are never leaving me again. I’ll fucking make sure of it.”

He picked you up suddenly, ignoring your protests as he carried you back into the bedroom. Kicking your bag aside, he dropped you on the bed, raising a finger to stop you. He took out the ring from his pocket, the very one you had refused this evening and held it to you.

“Put this on.” He ordered and you rubbed your eyes in exasperation.

“No.”

You both glared at each other, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Fighting with Chris had always been a thrill, more often than not ending with wild sex on any and all surfaces in sight. But today you were determined to end it. You’d not let yourself become weak at the sight of his cock.

“Okay then, you’ve left me no choice.” Chris said. He picked up his phone and tapped away on it, doing god knows what. You sighed, getting up and putting your stuff together again, ignoring his presence behind you. Chris threw his phone on the bed, looking stoically at you work. You were just folding the last of your clothes when your phone started buzzing. You ignored it for a minute, but it kept up, almost falling off the table with its vibrations.

“What the fuck” You gasped, looking at the hundreds of notifications pouring in as more followed. You quickly opened your Instagram to see you’d been tagged by Chris.

And she said YES!

Below that caption was a picture of the both of you from a couple months ago, cuddled up and smiling at each other.

Comments and likes from everyone were popping in, and soon enough, you saw your mother’s call. You stared at Chris, utterly in disbelief. What had he done?

“Try saying no now. You’d be the bitch who broke Chris Evans’s heart, the bitch who played him. Try walking in public between people who’d see you only as a slut and nothing more.”

Your world came crashing down. You were not some hotshot celebrity like Chris. You were just a girl trying to live her life the best way she knew how to, and how it ended up entangled with this man you’d never understand. Even if you shouted from the rooftops the truth of today, no one would believe you. Chris’s fans would tear you to shreds, destroy your life with their mean comments and attacks. And your family would not be spared either. They’ll be exposed to a celebrity scandal, dragged through the mud along with your good name.

“Oh god Chris, what have you done?” You choked out, falling to your knees. He came before you, gently caressing your head before kneeling in front of you. Cupping your face, he kissed you deep and hard, countering your hate with his love that hit you like your own kryptonite.

“I told you. I told you I’ll never let you leave.” He breathed against your mouth, pulling you closer. You dug your nails in his arms, hurting him with the hurt he just caused you, but he didn’t even flinch.

“You’re a monster” You said, chest heaving with emotions.

“Yes, I am. But you know what darling?” He said sweetly, “Even after this, you still love me. I am a monster, but I am a monster you created and one you love.”

You ended up on the bed, sprawled underneath him again. Even with icy hate in your eyes, your heart burned with love for him. It was unnatural, it was chemical and wrong. And yet, it was your reality. He was yours, no matter what he did. And you were his, regardless of every protest that you ever made.

“Now, I’ll ask this one more time. Will you marry me?” He asked softly, looking at you like you were all he ever saw.

“Yes” You breathed, watching silently as he slipped the ring on your finger and kissed it. Meeting your eyes, he settled over your body, his arousal pulsing over your thigh. Sealing the deal with a kiss, Chris went to remove your shirt.

“Then let’s celebrate. After we’re done, we can call our families with the good news.”

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || HIS LITTLE SONGBIRD

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna ft. itadori yuji and fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and light mention of alcohol  

| form : imagine (with she/her pronouns)

| word count : 2411

| published : 02 december

| request : I just finished reading Sukuna with so who good at singing and I love it❤️ After reading this, it makes me think of another possibility for reincarnation au. What if the so got reincarnated but instead of Sukuna actually met them in person, he found out that the so is now a famous singer, so their songs can be heard all over japan. Itadori went a store and their song was played which Sukuna realized it was his little song bird’s voice

| barista’s notes : hi hi guys~ sorry for the really late update today and that is because i fell asleep the second i got back home from school ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ classic barista violettelueur and what makes it lowkey worst is that it’s 2:20 am right now.....for a little information that might be helpful while reading this, i was listen to BLACKPINK - Don’t know what to do (JP Ver.) while writing this, so that is going to get a little mention on this imagine ʕ·ᴥ·　ʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) have a wonderday day and please come back soon!

The sounds of the strings being plucked to construct a beautiful melody filled the spring air with its euphoric sound as the pale pink cherry blossom petals graceful fell from its branches giving a beautiful sight to behold, while the crowds of men in the garden celebrated with red sake plates in hand that was filled to the brim with the sweet alcohol that was being consumed in a rapid rate.

However, as much as the King of Curses wanted to disrupt the little gather for his own sadistic pleasure, the melody that was playing in the air captivated him to pause his wicked thoughts and desires and demanded him to appreciate the music the was being created by the lone female that was at the centre of the ocean of men - who were laughing drunkenly while some observed her from afar.

The lone female on her knees, while her eyes were set on the musical tool that was set in front of her, was delicately but masterfully plucking the thin transparent stings to create a tune that no other person within the gardens could recreate - not even the other talented musicians that were also present within the large garden. Eyeing the beauty that was charming almost everyone within her presence, the King of Curses slyly came closer (but out of sight) to gain a closer look at what was going on.

“Who is she?”

“She’s the only daughter from the prominent L/N family, they’re are known for their musical talents and from the rumours, that is certainly no lie,”

“Is she married? I can imagine having her playing for me every day with that beautiful melody,”

However, before one of the males of court nobility could even answer the question, an elegant but powerful voice echoed throughout the garden causing everyone to swiftly turn to the direction of the angelic voice, only to suddenly find that it was that lone female in the middle of the garden singing with the alluring tone that she had created herself - leaving everyone in a trance to the grace that was beautifully presented to them.

“I need to make her my wife,”

“I’m afraid that is easier said than done, my lord. From what has been going around, she has refused all of the men that have proposed their hand in marriage, there isn’t a reason that is known for this that can answer everyone’s confusion,”

“What do I need to give her? Money! Power! I have plenty of that,”

“She has rejected all of the noblemen that have come her way, no riches could ever convince her and I’m surprised that her family also agree to her antics”

Listening from a distance, Sukuna couldn’t help but become intrigued by what was being said. Many women in this time would have jumped on the chance to marry someone from a higher status let alone be married off quickly, yet here you were singing and playing like you have all the time in the world with no worries or fears that could distract you. You were at peace, while he was the destruction.

Somewhat still in a trace, it was suddenly cut off once the final string was pulled causing there to be absolute silence to fill the space leaving only the wind to cover the lack of sound before a loud parade of claps were heard as the emperor - who hosted the party - stood up with pride written all over his face. Standing up from your position, you have a light smile before bowing to show your gratitude to being allowed to play in such a prestigious event as you then made your way to the other musicians to pass them on for the next performance.

“Y/N! That was amazing, you never disappoint,”

“I have no idea what you saying, I messed up on the second to last note when I hit the wrong string, ha what am I doing to do? That is going to extremely bother me for the time being,”

“Stop being such a perfectionist! None of the sorcerers, noblemen and emperor knows that, so you’re fine,”

“Thank you and shouldn’t you really go, is it not your turn?”

“Oh! My apologies, I’ll meet up with you later,”

With your friend running off to continue with musical performance, you stood in your spot as you watched her go further into the distance leaving you to soak in the sunray that was gently providing a warm glow to your complexion as the deep purple of your kimono also brightened up leaving it somewhat of a lavender shade. Taking a deep sigh, you looking up to admire the cherry blossoms that were in bloom, only to see a figure settled on one of the branches with his ruby eyes set upon you, even though the man was hidden very skilfully within the plethora of petals you could sense him from a while away, but before you could even voice out your confusion.

“Ah, there she is! Miss L/N,”

Displaying a face of irritation on the rude disturbance - leaving Sukuna to display a face of amusement instead - you turned around to find two men standing in front of you with one that seemed to be of younger age compared to his counterpart making you come to the realisation that it was a son and father - leaving you to mentally groan in annoyance as you instantly knew where this little conversation was going.

“I want you to met my son, he is -”

“I’m sorry, but I am not interested in his hand in marriage nor his companionship” you immediately interrupted the noblemen, causing both of the men to look at you in complete shock as they didn’t expect you to figure out their intentions so soon after only a few words exchanged.

“But my dear, this is an amazing opportunity for you to-”

“Become someone with a higher nobility? Don’t make me laugh, I rather become a peasant then spend the eternity of my life bound to you,”

“What is it that you desire for your hand? Wealth? Power? Prestige? You name what you desire and we will provide!”

“I’m afraid that what I desire is impossible for you to provide me, my apologies”

“What is it that you want, woman?! Who doesn’t want what I can give you within an instinct?” the son soon erupted in anger at this rejection, still in utter confusion on why you were so adamant on not wanting to wed him.

“Entertainment? Can you provide that? You see, you noblemen always offer what you have already stated to me and that may sound very enticing to another but, you all are so boring,”

The two noblemen looked at you with astoundment in their eyes as well as Sukuna, who was cunningly listening from above on where you found him - the King of Curses didn’t want to confess this to himself but he was confused on what you trying to demonstrate here with you little speech.

“You are so so boring, you men expect me to play and sing for you every single day like a bird in a cage, yet I get no entertainment in return from you? Isn’t that quite unfair? You have no talent yet you want to be greedy, what ridiculous idea is that? It’s almost laughable in my opinion,”

Sukuna almost burst out laughing from what you artfully expressed to the two men that were in front of you as he also could relate to what you were saying. The sorcerers that he had fought and killed with his bare hands were all boring with no hint of excitement from any of the battles he had faced and here you were expressing the same distaste - they were boring. All of them.

‘Well, well little songbird, I got your attention, now you have mine,’

                                        ꕥ

“Sukuna?” you called out in a hushed surprised tone, as you unexpectedly found him sitting comfortably on the wooden corridor outside your room. Even since that little encounter back at the garden party, you have been seeing the special grade curse looming about here and there within your personal space, causing you to one day to finally acknowledge his presence that was constantly around you, only leading up where you both were now.

The excitement of these secret meetings that you both had late at night was the entertainment that you were looking for. The excitement of being so secretive with the man you desired to love but couldn’t to the outer world was the entertainment that no nobleman would ever provide you. It was the fact that this romantic link between you and Sukuna was forbidden that excited the both of you. This was the entertainment that you both desire.

“Hello, my little songbird,” Sukuna greeted you with a smirk before gently grabbing your hand to pull you down to his height - well more rather below his height - to meet eye to eye with you. “Didn’t you miss me?” he then teasingly asked, causing you to look away in a bashful expression because you knew that he knew what your answer was going to be. However, pushing your pride aside, you slowly wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace which then led him to place a hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place as he savoured the warmth that you were providing him.

“Where have you been? I was worried,” you stated to him, and even though it was a laughable comment to him since what was the point in worrying about him, he couldn’t help but appreciate the foreign concern that you had for him - it truly warmed his heart that you were here with him. “I was busy, now why don’t you sing for me, my little songbird, I do miss the sound of your sweet voice,” he declared to you before placing a few light open mouth kisses on your neck leading you to let out a soft moan of pleasure which seemed to put a smile on the curse’s face.

“What would you like for me to sing to you then?” You asked as you used your hand to gently run your hand through his hair which caused Sukuna to become relaxed and lower his guard within your embrace - the only time he allowed himself to do so and the only person that was allowed to see him in this state.

“Anything. Anything that you sing for me is enough”

To be held in your arms was what Sukuna always wanted and desired every day of his life, to hear your voice was something that made him forget about the world just like back at the garden party and the elegance that you embodied while playing the Koto was something he could never get out of his mind. You were his safe haven. His little songbird. However, that was 1000 years ago.

                                          ꕥ

Residing within his vessel, Sukuna began to wonder what could have caused him to start to reminisce about the past when clearly he couldn’t do anything to bring you back with him. You were gone. You have passed. There was nothing he could do even as a powerful curse himself to bring your back onto his arms and let you sing to him.

However, what could make do for now was the song that was annoyingly playing within the music store that his vessel - Itadori Yuji - decided to visit as it seemed like he was interested in what was new with his friend Fushiguro Megumi. Slowly, the King of Curses could hear the music beginning to fade, indicating that it was the end of it before another quickly began to play to replace the ending song.

Unlike the other song, this one was softer in tune with something being strummed in the background - just like how you would strum the strings of the Koto when he would ask you to play it for him to admire - to which was then sung on top with a female voice. Disinterested, Sukuna began to dissociate himself with the song that was now playing until another voice came in with the song, suddenly leaving him in a trance like the one he was back 1000 years ago at that garden party.

Sitting up from his position, he intensively listened closer making sure that his ears didn’t deceive him from what he thought he heard.

“Oi brat! Who is singing that song?”

“Ha? What do you want now?” his vessel replied, surprised and annoyed at the sudden appearance of the curse that was inside him. 

“What does Sukuna want now?” Fushiguro asked, slightly worried about what was happening and what could happen at this moment and time since they were in a public place filled with people.

“Answer the question before I rip your heart out again,” Sukuna threatened, slowing becoming impatient and desperate for an answer leaving Itadori no choice but for once cooperate with the special grade curse.

“From what I believe, it’s a group song called ‘Don’t know what to do’, I believe there are five girls within that group,” Itadori explained before he quickly stopped within his track to see a screen playing a stage performance of the exact same song being played in the store. “Yeah! There is the group, they are really well known in Japan since they’re are touring there, I think the youngest is the same age as me and Fushiguro” to which he pointed at a girl that he was explaining about.

Looking at the scene through Itadori’s eyes, Sukuna began to observe each and every single girl that was dancing on the stage before he paused his view on a certain girl that Itadori pointed, who was dressed in a white off the shoulder crop top that was long-sleeved with a white skirt paired with white trainers that matched with the rest of the girls within the group.

“Little songbird?” he quietly muttered, not believing what was presented in front of him at this current moment in time.

There was no doubt about it, that was you on the screen singing and dancing to a song that he slowly began to love once he heard your voice. You truly looked angelic as you gracefully danced across the stage somehow managing to maintain a stable singing voice that never disappointed him. You were back.

His little songbird.

[sparklysung]

✨OPEN CURTAINS PART III – h.r.j.✨

© sparklysung – 2021. all rights reserved. no reposts, modifications and/or translations allowed.

pairing – huang renjun x female!reader

genre – fluff, smut | non-idol!au, neighbours!au, strangers to lovers!au

warnings – blowjob, face fucking, penetration, nipple play, protected sex

word count – 5.346 words

summary – when the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity of being with his cute neighbour shows up one day –thanks to his two best friends aka jaemin and jeno–, renjun just couldn’t let it slip. who would have thought the universe would finally side with him and let things happen?

note – the gif isn’t mine, i found it on google, so credits to the owner! it’s way longer than the previous parts but i hope you guys like it!

taglist – @junguwuuu, @prvncejxon, @jenotation​, @iwishihadabettername, @whomichelle 

part i ; part ii ; part iii

renjun didn’t know what to expect to happen next.

anyway, he started to leave the curtains in his room open, excited to see you again. don’t get him wrong, though, he did like seeing you put on a private show just for him to witness, but he looked forward more to you just being yourself.

he liked observing you, he enjoyed the way you looked so content doing your own thing. sometimes he got to see you while you read a book by your window, earphones plugged in and head bobbing to the rhythm of the song you were listening to. on other occasions, he caught you laughing at your phone while probably talking to your friends –he hoped they were just friends–, a warm feeling washing over his body from your cute reactions.

it was safe to say renjun was whipped for you and it wasn’t even a secret.

his two best friends, jaemin and jeno, knew of his interest in you since the beginning, as renjun had forced them countless times to listen to him talk about –or more like drool over– you. 

they were also the first ones to witness renjun suffer hopelessly for the impossibility of an us happening between you.

so it wasn’t a surprise renjun had told them about your dirty secret. at first, they didn’t believe him as it sounded way too much like a sex scene from a bad movie. but they soon concluded it was true one day when a small interaction between the two of you they had never seen before happened.

the three of them had been eating lunch in the school’s cafeteria while talking about random stuff and joking about renjun’s crush on you. coincidentally, almost as if they had summoned you, they saw you walk past their table and towards yours. all three eyes were set in your figure, following your every move as you tilted your head to the side, locking eyes with renjun. you sent him a flirty smile and a wink just to wind him up a bit, and you hit the jackpot when said boy choked on his drink and turned a deep shade of red.

you just walked away after, trying to contain your laugh. neither jaemin nor jeno knew who was more surprised, renjun or them. as soon as you were out of sight they turned their attention to him, mouths agape in shock, to see him coughing uncontrollably.

“did she just…” ignoring his struggling friend, jeno spoke, still shaken. “did she just flirt with you?” jaemin finished, equally shaken. renjun felt like his heart was about to exit his body through his mouth. 

you had never acknowledged his existence before outside of your filthy displays of skin and that one confrontation, never even sparing him a glance. and suddenly you were flirting with him in front of the whole school?

renjun’s heart beat fast, almost hurting his ribs from how hard it pounded against them.

what were you doing to him?

“i–i don’t know?”

“dude, she was clearly flirting.” both of his friends threw each other a knowing look before softly patting his shaky friend. “just shoot your shot, she’s obviously into you too.” jaemin pressed.

jaemin was tired of seeing renjun stress over a girl and not do anything about it. he couldn’t just stay still and watch, he had to do something if his best friend wasn’t going to.

so he decided to take matters into his own hands. 

and jeno was going to help him, obviously.

~.~.~.~

“okay, so, here’s the plan.”

jaemin and jeno sat cross-legged in front of each other on the latter’s bed. they had arranged an emergency meeting to make up a plan to get you and renjun together.

“we have to convince her to make the first move because, clearly, renjun isn’t going to. and i need you to do it for me.” jaemin looked as serious as ever, taking very seriously his job as renjun’s personal cupid.

“what? why me? why can’t you do it?” jeno questioned, confused, to which jaemin clicked his tongue in annoyance. “because you’re friendly and outgoing, at least more sociable than me, duh.” he furrowed his eyebrows as if he was stating the obvious. “also, no one can say no to that eye smile, literally nobody.”

“and how exactly am i supposed to approach her, what do you want me to tell her?”

“just tell her you’re one of renjun’s friends and ask her if she likes him. if she says yes, tell her renjun is a little shy and if she can, you know, ask him out on a date maybe or just make the first move. i don’t know, just whatever she can to make renjun confess so they can finally get together.” jaemin spoke confidently, feeling like a genius. he could already picture you two walking to school, hands clasped together and looking at each other with lovey-dovey eyes.

“and what if she says no?” jeno was still hesitant, not sure if the plan was going to work out or mess things further.

“she’s not gonna say no. from what i heard from him and witnessed that day at lunch, she likes him. or at least she’s interested in him.”

“ugh, fine, i’ll do it.” jaemin smiled triumphantly, punching his fist in the air. “but you owe me one, you’ll do my homework for a month.” now was jeno’s turn to smirk, jaemin’s smile quickly dropping.

“renjun better fucking take this opportunity and make the most out of it.” jaemin mumbled distastefully.

~.~.~.~

jeno’s eyes wandered around the hallways, back resting against the wall outside of your classroom, waiting for you to come by anytime soon and put the plan into motion.

jeno and you weren’t friends, not even classmates, but he had briefly talked to you a few times before, so he still felt a bit awkward about it.

after a few minutes of waiting, he saw you walk in his direction. before you could open the door to get inside the room, jeno spoke.

“hey! can i steal a few minutes of your time? i need to talk to you.” he smiled, eyes turning into crescent moons.

cute.

you nodded your head, making your way towards a less concurred place.

“sure, what do you need me for?” you quirked an eyebrow, curious to hear what he had to say.

“so… i’m friends with huang renjun, does it ring a bell?” he continued as you nodded for him to keep going, suddenly really interested in the conversation. “you see, i wanted to know if you were interested in him romantically? i mean, if you like him.” jeno bit the inside of his cheek, feeling slightly nervous.

“did he send you to ask me?”

“what? no. i just wanted to know since i was there when he almost died of asphyxia in the cafeteria a couple of days ago.” it was his time to arch his eyebrow in an almost teasing way.

“uhm, i may be,” you shrugged your shoulders, pretending to be unaffected and ready to leave for class.

“great! so, he’s a bit shy. he may or may not be scared to ask you out because he thinks you’ll reject him, so i was wondering if you could make the first move?”

you failed to contain your laugh, so you lightly slapped one of your hands to your lips to shut yourself up. jeno wasn’t sure what were you laughing at, so you, sensing his uneasiness, quickly explained yourself.

“i’m not laughing at him. actually, i think he’s really sweet. it’s just…” your hand dropped again to your side, tugging at the hem of your shirt. jeno noticed your hesitation. “are you sure this is going to work? i mean, i haven’t tried talking to him properly because i’m afraid he’s going to run away from me as soon as i approach him.”

“at least try, i’m begging you. jaemin and i are tired of hearing him cry over you.” the pleading tone in his voice made you feel a bit bad for them.

“fine, i’ll do it.” just as you spoke, the sound of the bell ringing made you both flinch, both turning to make your way to your respective classrooms.

“thanks! see you around.” jeno waved at you with a happy smile on his face before walking out of your sight.

you weren’t surprised, you had actually expected to be the one to take the first step. but what you didn’t really expect was for one of his friends to ask you to. it made you think they were aware of your existence and your complicated relationship with renjun.

it left you wondering how much they knew about it.

whether they were aware of everything or not, this was going to be interesting nonetheless.

~.~.~.~

the day after jeno’s request, you found yourself bored and alone in your house. your parents had once again left you to take care of work-related stuff.

what a surprise.

seeing you had a couple of hours before they came back, you decided to make good use of it and think of how you were going to get close enough to renjun to ask him out, or at least drop him more hints to show him your interest in him.

you looked out of your window, hoping he was home and in his room like usual. and he was. sat down on his desk, a focused renjun was quickly tying in his computer. he looked so comfy in his gray sweatpants that hugged his thighs oh so perfectly and oversized yellow hoodie that you would love to steal some time, so inviting for you to cuddle in his arms. you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach with the thought of it.

after a while, you decided to just ask him if you could come and hang out with him. that would give you an opportunity to talk to him. and by the looks of it, renjun’s parents weren’t home either, so you had plenty of time to think of ways to let him know you liked him without scaring him.

he must have felt you staring because he turned his head to take a glimpse of you, catching you already looking at him. his cheeks burned making your lips turn upwards. he smiled back, but it quickly changed into a look of pure confusion as you got up and exited your room.

soon enough you were outside of his house, waiting for him to let you in. his eyes opened widely when he heard a knock on his door, face contorting in an expression of utter panic. he stood frozen in place for a couple of seconds before coming back to his senses. he quickly threw things inside of his closet and under his bed to clean up a bit before running downstairs.

what were you doing there?

when he opened the door, he was panting heavily from shuffling around his room and running to you.

“hey, were you busy?” 

“uh… no!” renjun scratched the back of his head as he realized he had spoken too loudly, “i mean, no, i’m not busy at all.”

you nodded your head in understanding as he stood awkwardly, clueless like a lost puppy. you lifted your face up to look at him and something clicked in his head.

“oh shit, you wanna come in?” quietly cursing he moved to the side to let enough space for you to walk in. 

you just giggled, waiting for him to lead the way. he walked towards the stairs in silence with you trailing behind. when you reached the door that led to his room, he opened it and let you walk in first. you sat down on his bed while he retook his place on his desk.

anxiety was eating renjun up from the thoughts crowding his mind, the uncertainty of why you dropped by so suddenly made his stomach churn. 

“uhm, so, what brings you here?” he asked, playing with his hands while avoiding eye contact with you.

“i don’t know, i just thought we could hang out, you know? we never really spoke before, apart from that, and we’ve been neighbours for a couple of years.” you looked at him expectantly. you hoped he wouldn’t tell you to leave and let you stay for a bit more.

“ah, yeah, we can hang out… i’d like that,”

“great!”

it was no secret you were eager to spend time with him, you weren’t even discrete about it. even renjun could tell by the way you excitedly looked around his room while lightly bouncing on the mattress.

renjun couldn’t help but notice the way your hips moved as you bounced, completely unaware of his gaze. his mind drifted to the day when you brought that guy home with you, the way you pushed him on the bed and got on top, how you teased him by grinding against him and then rode him, your attention never leaving renjun.

he nibbled on his lip nervously, forcing himself to only focus on your face and not think too much about it. he could already feel blood rushing south as his sweatpants got tighter. he figured that his hoodie, a size or two too big for his body, could work in his favour, so he tugged on it to cover himself.

the boy’s attempt of hiding his growing boner didn’t go unnoticed by you as you abruptly stopped dead on your tracks to eye him meticulously to find the cause of his sudden fidgety behaviour.

“hey, are you alr-,” at first you didn’t see it, too worried thinking that you were making him uncomfortable, thoughts of better leaving him alone filled your head. 

and then, you noticed.

he had popped a boner out of nowhere.

“oh.” you stared at him blankly.

realizing you knew what was up with him, renjun shot up from his seat, face pale. “i-it’s not what it looks like, i swear!” the sudden change in the pitch of his voice surprised you. “i’m sorry, i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to!” he cried out, desperately trying to convince you.

“renjun,” you stood up, taking a few steps forward, “relax.” with a soft push on his shoulders he fell down onto the chair once again.

“w-what?” you used your hands to push his knees open, making space for you to settle in between. “what are yo-,” a moan ripped out of his chest when your hand came up to cup his cock through his clothes.

“tell me to stop and i will.” you waited for him to answer, your other hand stroking his thigh gently.

“please, don’t stop.”

you quickly got your hands to work, palming him, squeezing from time to time. he tried to keep his mouth shut, teeth biting onto his tongue. you wanted to hear him, so you saw it as a challenge.

and you sure were going to win.

you placed open mouthed kisses on his clothed bulge, feeling him twitch against your lips. pushing his hoodie up to expose the skin of his abdomen, you licked a stripe before blowing air to the wet trail of saliva, making him flinch. his hips bucked under your hand as it never stopped stroking his shaft.

renjun was having a really hard time keeping still and quiet.

“can i?” you hooked your finger under the elastic of his sweats, asking for permission to expose his cock. he nodded as soon as you spoke, eager to feel you without the restriction of his clothes.

when you pushed the waistband of his pants below his hips, freeing him, you were stunned. the moment you caught him jerking off to you, you were able to see him and, in total honesty, you couldn’t deny it made you feel things. but up close the experience was completely different. nerves began rising inside renjun as you admired his dick for what felt like forever.

what if you didn’t like what you were seeing? what if you expected him to be bigger, or maybe longer? the blush on his cheeks only turned redder with every thought. he wanted to cover himself, skin burning with embarrassment.

just as renjun began to regret his whole life, you placed feather-light touches to his semi-hard cock. a gasp left his lips when your fingers wrapped themselves around the base, quickly hardening completely against the palm of your hand. you leaned closer, upper arms coming to rest on his thighs, as you opened your mouth, tongue poking out and giving his shaft a kitten lick.

renjun almost jolted his body forward.

he tried to calm down, letting out shaky breaths while his hands gripped the side of his desk. your touch felt better than he had imagined and he found himself enjoying your attention, dick twitching between your fingers with every flick of your tongue. you left a trail of saliva as the tip of your wet muscle traced the vein on the underside of it.

you pumped him a few times before taking the tip of his member inside your mouth, sucking softly. “oh, fuck,” the groan he let out encouraged you to keep going and made you hollow your cheeks harder. It took everything in him not to thrust into your warm mouth, frantic to feel more of you.

you could see his hands twitching, not wanting to force you into him and hurt you. so you took his hands and positioned them in your hair, allowing him to tug on it. renjun sighed in relief, running his fingers through your hair, taking it into a ponytail to guide you. little sighs of pleasure left his lips with every bob of your head. you liked the feeling of his hands tangled in your hair, so you hummed around his sensitive cock, making him buck his hips into your mouth. you gagged when he hit the back of your throat and renjun felt like he was about to cry. he threw his head back in bliss, breaths coming out ragged.

if he thought you felt good in his imagination, he was wrong. you felt godly in real life. 

you tried to relax your throat, keeping your head down, the tip of your nose against his neatly trimmed pubic hair. your hands massaged his thighs, sliding up to feel his toned stomach from time to time as you let him set his own pace.

after a while of you sucking him off, or more like him fucking your throat, he couldn’t take it anymore. he was certain that if you continued, he was going to cum and the fun would be over faster than it started.

“please, i need to feel you,” he whined, hands desperately tugging at your arms to bring you closer for a kiss, so you released him with a pop, wiping off the drool from your lips. “i wanna be inside of you.” you completely pulled his pants down so they were pooling around his ankles, before getting up. your knees were sore from kneeling on the hard floor of his room, but you paid no mind. as soon as he stepped out of them, you pulled him by his hand to his bed.

renjun stood in front of it, staring at you with hooded eyes as you sat on the edge. your index finger hooked in the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling them down your legs before throwing them on the floor. he let out a curse at the sight of the wet spot in the crotch of your panties. oh god, renjun swore there was nothing else he wanted more than to taste you. he would do anything to see you writhing under him, legs shaking and head thrown back into his pillows while screaming his name, as he ate you out like a starved man. 

but that would have to wait until next time.

he sure hoped this wasn’t a one-time thing, he prayed for it to be a next time.

“take it off,” you pouted pulling at the sleeve of his hoodie. he complied, quickly pulling the cloth off of his body as you laid on your back, legs opening wide for renjun to position himself in between. 

he swore he was seeing an angel, he almost pinched himself to make sure this was real and not a dirty trick his mind was playing on him. he looked at you with so much adoration, as if you were the most beautiful person in this world, it made your heart beat faster.

you extended your hands out to him and he took them in his, lovingly intertwining your fingers before you pulled him closer. as he settled on top of you, you tangled your legs around his hips to bring him closer, trying to eliminate the space between your bodies. this caught renjun by surprise, not expecting you to do that, so he almost crashed you under him. as his hips hit yours, the tip of his dick rubbed against your aching core, making the both of you moan at the friction.

“fuck, i want you so bad,” you whined, gyrating your hips to grind your dripping cunt up against his cock, “please, renjun, fuck me.” you caught his lower lip between your teeth, pulling on it, and he let out a groan at how hot this all was.

he still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

you were finally going to be his.

kind of.

his mouth crashed into yours, tongues fighting for dominance and teeth clashing messily. a muffled moan escaped your lips when his hands slid under your shirt to grope your chest. a shocked gasp left him when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra. how didn’t he notice before?

he quickly composed himself and started playing with your breasts, squeezing them and pinching your nipples. your buds hardened in his fingers, back arched against his to get closer. he licked them, sucking and softly biting on them over your shirt. your pretty sounds were like music to his ear, only incentivising him to keep going.

renjun was fascinated by how reactive your body was to his touches. he wanted to explore every part of you to find all your sensitive spots and make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to think straight.

your pussy clenched around nothing and the empty feeling reminded you of what you wanted before renjun distracted you with his skilled fingers.

“do you have a condom somewhere around here?” breaking away from his lips, you asked. it took him a moment to understand what you were asking him, and when he did, he quickly reached a hand for one of the drawers of his nightstand. “ah… yes, wait a second.” yanking it open, he pulled out a foil wrapper and tore it open. he rolled the condom on his cock and then got back on the bed.

meanwhile, you reached for the hem of your shirt, tugging on it to pull it over your head. the sight of your bare chest made his dick throb. “you’re so pretty,” he mumbled out loud, and by the nervous laugh he let out right after that, he wasn’t intending for you to hear him.

suddenly, you felt shy in front of his eyes. your cheeks felt hot, making you look down as you played with your fingers, a small smile on your lips. it wasn’t the first time a guy had complimented you, but coming from him made you feel different. renjun smiled sweetly at your bashful behaviour, “i mean it.”

he got back on top of you and positioned the head of his cock in your entrance, lightly pressing himself against you. he examined your face in search of a hint of hesitation, but couldn’t find any. you wanted to taste him again, so you pulled him down by the back of his neck, lips catching his in a heated kiss. your hands ran up and down his body, fingers sliding down his back, while one of his gripped your thigh.

after a brief make-out session, he wrapped his free hand around his hard cock, giving it a few pumps to prepare himself for what was coming. the tip had turned into a pretty shade of red that resembled a lollipop, and if you weren’t so desperate for him to fill you up, you would surely be putting it back in your mouth. you let out a moan when he slid it between your fold, gathering your juices and spreading them.

finally, he pushed in without breaking the kiss. as he got deeper into you, his dick stretched you out with a delicious burn at an almost painfully slow pace. he whimpered into your mouth when he had bottomed out, balls resting against your ass. his sounds made you clench around him, and with heavy breaths, renjun dug his nails into your skin.

his head was spinning; he needed a hot second to calm down or he would be shooting his load in no time. your walls hugged him so tightly, he felt like he wouldn’t be able to move inside of you, but he wasn’t planning on going anywhere either way. and you still had to get used to his size; even if just a couple of days ago you hooked up with daehyun, he was nothing compared to renjun. renjun was bigger, and the chemistry the two of you shared was undeniable, which made the intimate moment a lot more intense and meaningful. 

once you got used to the intrusion, you ran your hands to the small of his back to push him down into you. “you can move now,” breathy moans left your lips as he pulled out before thrusting back in.

he made you feel so full, cock dragging against your walls while leaving wet kisses along your neck. his lips sucked on the skin, teeth sinking and leaving pretty marks, before soothing the bruises with his tongue.

he fit perfectly inside of you, it felt like he belonged there. renjun quickly found your g-spot, the tip of his cock hitting the right places with every ram of his hips. the knot in your stomach rapidly tightening from the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you.

you let out a loud moan when one of his hands stumbled across your clit, your hips shot upward to meet his thrusts. a shiver ran down your spine making your back arch and push your chest against his, his mouth on your breasts once again.

it felt so good you almost couldn’t handle it. your walls tightened deliciously around him, making his eyes roll back and a whimper fall off his lips. 

“shit, please, do that again.” you did as you were told, clenching around him again as his fingers fastly circled around your throbbing clit. 

“i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum,” you felt him twitch inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy. he was near his end, both of you could feel it, and you weren’t far from it either.

after a particularly hard thrust of his hips, your climax washed over your body making your vision blurry. “oh my god, r-renjun,” your legs trembled as you screamed his name.

renjun’s thrusts didn’t falter, fucking you through your orgasm while chasing his. his fingers never stopped toying with your clit, pinching it and rubbing it quickly as your body squirmed under his.

your nails scratched his back, leaving red marks on it for him to remember you every time he looked in the mirror. your actions triggered his orgasms, seed shooting into the condom with a loud moan, the pounding of his hips slowly coming to a stop.

pants and heavy breaths could be heard all around the room, the strong smell of sex filling your senses and making you feel light-headed. he didn’t pull out immediately, he wanted to savour the feeling of your warm pussy hugging him tightly inside of you. 

when he did, he took off the condom, tying it and throwing it in the bin near his desk. taking tissues from his nightstand, he cleaned your thighs and core with delicacy before cleaning himself. as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash, he pulled his sweatpants back on before looking around the room for his hoodie.

a huge smile formed on renjun’s lips when found you holding it. you slipped his hoodie on as well as your panties before throwing yourself back on his bed next to him. your body laid partially on top of his, your head rested on his bare chest, fingers tracing circles on the soft skin, and legs tangled with his. he hummed happily under you, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment. 

he knew he would eventually have to tell you how he felt.

he knew this would be his last chance before things changed and you either decided to leave his side or keep him.

so, mustering all the courage he could find, he concluded it was time to let you know.

he could feel the deafening beating of his heart and he hoped you wouldn’t be able to hear it, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves before finally speaking.

“well i… i’ve a crush on you since you moved in and always tried to talk to you, but it just wouldn’t work out. now that things have changed and we’ve gotten closer, kind of, i-i think i have stronger feelings for you and i figured i should let you know.” as he spoke quietly, nervously waiting for your response.

jaemin, jeno and you had underestimated renjun, none of you believed he would be able to confess without you pushing him into it.

but there he was, blurting out his feelings for you, holding his fragile heart in his hand and waiting for you to take care of it. 

“i know things usually happen in a different order, but i was wondering if i…” renjun’s ears turned a dark shade of red as his voice slightly cracked.

“can i… maybe take you out… i mean, as on a date?” his eyes flicked around nervously, looking everywhere but at you.

you giggled, finding his nervous state rather charming. excitement tickled your body from his proposal. you moved your head up to face him, eyes locking and a big smile adorning your face before smashing your lips together in a sweet kiss.

“i thought you’d never ask.” you said against his lips, butterflies blooming in his stomach. 

renjun laughed happily as you hugged him, chin resting on top of your head and your face buried in his chest.

after a moment of comfortable silence, you decided to tell him the meaning behind your unexpected visit.

“you know, jeno actually asked me to make the first move and ask you out. he said he and jaemin were tired of hearing you ‘cry over me’… his own words, not mine though!” renjun groaned embarrassed, making you chuckle.

he was going to murder both of them when he saw them.

“because you were too shy and apparently afraid of me rejecting you?” renjun turned his head away from you, his hand coming to cover his face.

did you really give off that vibe?

“did you really think i was going to straight up reject you?” even if you didn’t take it personally when jeno mentioned renjun’s fear of being rejected, hearing it from him made you feel a bit hurt.

“well, yeah?” seeing your pouty lips he quickly tried to explain, “i mean, i didn’t give the best first impression so i thought you thought of me as a creep. i didn’t think you’d even want me to come near you.”

you hummed, understanding his thought process. “but i guess i was wrong?”

“yeah, you were. you should thank both of them, they were the reason why i came here in the first place.”

maybe renjun wouldn’t murder either of them after all.

–lia:)

[austarus]

Timeless!Harrison Wells x Reader - White King, Black Queen

*A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to its rightful owner.

**Please don’t forget to comment, like, and reblog. It means a lot to content creators of all kinds!

***I’d also like to thank @grimtamlain-writes​ for being my beta reader.

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 2267

You narrowed your eyes as the city continued to bustle, noise from people and cars emitted in the air. Clouds hung sparsely over Central City as the waning moon took the place of the sun high in the sky. The wind blew a light breeze through your hair. You kicked a leg back and forth gently as you sat on the edge of the STAR Labs tower wings. Your other leg was bent close to your body, an arm resting over your knee. The height didn’t scare you so much as it used to. In fact, you didn’t mind being so close to the edge anymore. If you fell, then you fell. Truth be told, your powers would save you whether you willed it to or not. Some would say it’s a curse, others not so much. Your umbrakinesis acted like a defense mechanism at those times. A sigh left your lips as you straightened up your back, cracking it. Relief echoed through your body, but your heart felt heavy. Time is ticking... You knew what was happening downstairs, Gideon had alerted you when someone entered the Time Vault. It wouldn’t be completely wrong to say that you didn’t want to face him – couldn’t get attached since he’d been here. Not again. Staying up here was your way of avoiding that problem until… Until what, though?

The hair at the back of your neck stood up, a chill ran down your spine as your shadows alerted you of a presence a distance behind you. Turning your head slightly, you sent an icy look to the one person you dreaded to see. The face of the man you had seen pass one too many times. Their looks from their final moments imprinted in your mind for this one to come back. He was the last thing you had of them.

Harrison Wells.

A small smile was on his face, his hair tousled with his clear-framed glasses perched on his nose. He knew you’d be up here. The others told him you’d been up here since his reincarnation into the world. Since he’d made contact with Team Flash to help them and explain his predicament of currently living. But really, Harrison would have known if no one had told him. He had sensed it. Seen it – the images flickered past in his brain. The other versions of himself with you up here – the foreign familiarness that he personally did not experience.

But nothing more than a dreadful reminder of what’s past.

“I’ve come to say good-bye,” the genius started in a soft voice, wanting to approach you carefully. Your glare bothered him, yet he knows it shouldn’t, for once Harrison leaves, he will be united with Tess, the love of his life. Over and over and over again.

You snorted, turning your gaze to the stars that twinkled away from the clouds. You could see the constellations of Cassiopeia, winking brightly light-years away. “Such a shame, you could have helped them with Godspeed.” A bitter laugh left your lips as you recalled Nash showing you how to recognize the constellations and where to navigate from there. Sherloque would drink his tea up here with you and converse about his cases. HR would read to you his latest ideas and novels while you gave your input. You would drag Harry out of his lab to get some fresh air. And Eobard… he was the one who showed you this view, before Barry had woken up, before the Particle Accelerator had gone online.

“Team Flash is more than capable of handling threats on their own.”

“I take it you think that having a Wells must be a handicap, hm?”

“I never said that.”

“Hmph.”

“I couldn’t leave without telling you good-bye.” You pressed your lips thinly and Harrison continued, pocketing his hands in his dark coat. “It didn’t feel right to go without saying that.”  The night was getting colder, yet you remained out here in a thin jacket. Dare he say, he worried a bit?  You turned to fully look at him from your seated position. “I… won’t deny the sentiment I feel towards you. The memories of the past Wells. Their thoughts – well, previous thoughts – and feelings are still here.” Harrison had gestured to his head then placed a hand on his heart. Bile rose at the back of your throat as the smiling images of the boys hit your mind. You bit your lip hard as he spoke, “Each one of them felt strongly for you, but I’m not them. They’d want you to move on. To live-”

“No!” Your patience snapped, standing up rapidly with expert footing. Shadows went rampant in the night, wind howling in his ears. “You don’t get to say that!” Darkness immediately consumed the atmosphere and air around you both. Unbridled anger licked up in your heart and soul as you took heavy steps towards him. Harrison couldn’t see, but he could feel the moving darkness as he stood his ground. “You have no right to act all high and mighty towards me.” A hiss left his lips as a dark particle lashed at his arm, burning through his coat and marring his skin just as he heard your anger burn in your next words. “You don’t understand the strings that fate has chained me with! Nor will you ever understand my burden.”

***Flashback***

“What is it that you want?” You glared at the entity. The Monitor had appeared in your kitchen as you were pouring yourself some alcohol to enjoy your quiet night. You had taken some time away from all the heroes and villains running around.

“I came because I require your assistance for the Crisis.”

“Pass, I’m not in the mood to play the hero.”

“The point is not to be a hero or the villain, but to honor fate’s will.”

“Well fate can go hump a stump for all I care,” you sipped on your choice of alcohol, you turned away from the eternal entity only to find him in front of you right as you had exited your kitchen. A deep frown crossed your features. This is such a drag.

“Fate has bound your life to Harrison Wells the moment you first met him years ago.”

“False, that was Eobard masquerading as Wells. So, technically no.”

“That technicality may be so, but fate saw the speedster as your gateway to the rest of them. Without Thawne you would not have been so tied to Harrison Wells’ existence.” Rolling your eyes, you took another sip, already knowing you’d need a couple of glasses to forget about this interaction. “Your life is bound to his. To them.” The Monitor had you right where he wanted you, pushing images into your mind to allow you to see reason. “You were a lover.” You flinched as the image of Eobard appeared in your mind. “A partner.” Harry. “A friend.” HR. “And a confidante.” Sherloque. “Now this one needs you as well, he is in danger of himself with the Anti-monitor. My opposite entity.” You knew he was referring to Nash, the multiverse explorer with the haughty attitude and snarky comments.

“…”

“You are the anomaly that exists in the multiverse, there is no other in your position.” The entity saw the hesitation flicker in your being. “The time has come for you to be his protector.”

***Time Skip***

Nash panted, on the ground of this desolate land on his hands and knees. His mouth felt dry, tasting iron in his mouth from the blood on his split lip. How much longer can he endure this? The Anti-monitor continued to laugh at him, to mock him, for his weakness. Pariah gripped hard at the dirty snow, blood and mud defiled the pure whiteness. He couldn’t get back up. His body ached. No matter how hard Nash tried to push back, the Anti-monitor was too strong for him even with these temporary powers.

“Humans are such fickle beings,” the anti-entity spoke in a grand manner, “Soon the multiverse will be mine and there shall be no flaws. No humans to corrupt my domain.” The eternal being gathered his divine power into the palm of his hand and fired anti-matter at his appointed Pariah. The one to bear witness of the end of the multiverse. His curse.

Nash shut his eyes; this was the end. This was his end. A breath left him, what he expected to be his final breath. But the final blow never came. Ringing greeted Nash’s ears as he opened his eyes. Standing in front of him, shielding his body was you and your dark powers. For whatever reason it withstood the anti-matter as particles clashed against one another. You stood defiantly and gracefully in your fighting positions, conjuring your dark spectacles from every shaded corner.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking monster.” You growled, your hands working magnificently to bind the Anti-monitor down. Once bound your umbra became spears and swords that pierced through the entity. While it could not kill the Anti-monitor, it slowed him down – meaning it would slow down his assault on Nash. You needed to get him to safety, needed him to have enough strength to teleport you two away from this dimension. And that’s exactly what you convinced him to do when you grabbed him, hugging his injured body to yourself as he fought to stay conscious.

***End Flashback***

“You don’t understand what loss truly is! You don’t get how hard it is to move on from this.” Just as you had moved, so had Harrison. A dagger of darkness at his throat, clenching the front of his cloak as he held a dagger of light to your own throat. Harrison  gritted his teeth as he used his powers to light up the area in his green light. “This pain, the misery of losing over and over and over again. To bear the burden of fate’s strings only to watch them all fall.” He flinched at how the veins around your eyes had darkened to a charcoal color. His throat dried as fear hit him. Harry’s memory flashed into his mind – the memory of you in this state, accidentally killing a meta in self-defense. “You’re just a selfish man, running away from what’s in front of him.” Harrison’s light battled against your darkness to keep the physical manifestations of umbra away from harming his body. “I despise people like that.”

“I’m only doing what’s best for me.”

“By what, Harrison? Running to the past? What’s in the past is best left in the past, those who hold on to the past don’t appreciate the present.”

“Such hypocritical words coming from someone who sulks around up here for what once was.”

“You don’t fucking know anything about me. All you have are some second-hand memories, but you don’t truly know me and what I’ve been through. You’re just like Barry.”

“And you’re any different?”

“At least I know the difference between reality and a desperate dream.”

“…” He knew Tess is doomed to die for time to flow, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cherish every second with her until it was time. Maybe he was a desperate man chasing after a desperate dream, but he would until the bitter end. For Tess.

“A Time Loop is just a miserable notion for you to see Tess when her destiny is already a fixed time point. Just like Barry’s mother. Their deaths are absolute. Even with your Timeless powers you can’t interfere with what’s set in place.”

“That may be so, but I’ve fulfilled my part here – at least I have someone to return home to, even if they are doomed to die. I could be by her side over and over again.”

Harrison’s words pierced your heart, you pushed the tears back. The ache in your heart throbbed at a greater rate. At least… he had the power to return to his someone… The genius saw the haunting dejection in your eyes, the way your shoulders quivered as you tried to keep yourself together. He regretted the words that left his mouth…

“Do as you please,” you whispered, loosening your grip on his jacket to let him go. The darkness dissipated as you walked back to your perch with pocketed hands. “I’m done begging…” You mumbled to yourself so quietly that he didn’t catch your last statement. A tear left your eyes as you stood tall where you once sat.

“Good-bye,” Harrison murmured to the wind drifting in your direction before turning and leaving. A part of him felt torn by the things he had spat at you. What’s done is done. I doubt I’ll be back here any time soon. Clenching and unclenching his hand, Harrison shut his eyes and summoned his powers to pass through time. Tess, I’m coming home.

“Good-bye, Harrison.” Another tear fell, this time you wiped it as the night continued. He was gone. They were gone. You were alone, once again spectacularly alone and cold.

The pieces are all in place. The time has come…

Time still ticked as seconds went bye. A voice whispered at the back of your mind; the presence residing there since his exorcism. The one that kept you company through all this.

“It’s time, my queen.”

Checkmate

[wavesmp3]

[ksw] clouds

sunwoo x reader

wc. 5k warnings: medical inaccuracies, death, illness, hospitals, overall just a pretty heavy piece genre can only be described as an absolute mess inspired mainly by san junipero but also slightly by charlie kaufman and wong kar wai

a/n: this is supposed to be told nonlinearly but like the creation of it was very messy so i have no clue if it actually worked, so good luck trying to make this piece make sense of this :) 

act iii. scene iii.

Sunwoo sits and watches the sun shift from pink and blue to an impossible shade of green. And it’s then he knows that without a doubt Clara has ruined the color green for him. Because instead of marveling at the color of the sky, Sunwoo is reminded of the doors in her apartment building.

“Thought I might find you here.” The voice of a stranger who Sunwoo loved once upon a time says behind him. He tries like hell not to turn around. Not to lean back towards the voice and wait for your hand on his shoulder or your shin knocking familiarly against his back. He focuses on the waves crashing below instead. The roar of the water beneath him is deafening, but only if you let it be. He does, and he almost forgets that you’re behind him.

“Where’d you go?” You ask, now sitting next to him, tugging at the long grass. 

“I’m right here.”

“And what about in there?” You bring a finger up and poke at the side of his forehead. 

He turns to you, facing you in full. He takes in your features like it’s the first time all over again. And, oh, he wishes he knew before how many firsts you already had together. This is just another. This is just the first time he’s seen you in the past six months and remembered the thousands of times he’s seen your face before. 

He studied your cheeks. The one he now recalls running the back of his palm over after you left for the Cloud. 

He memorizes, for the millionth time, your eyes. He used to swear they were darker than they are, but then he saw them in the sun. He was dying back then; then he saw your eyes and you saved him. Just like that. 

Mr. Choi was right of course. As he always must be. You and him are like an old married couple. Not like. You are. Almost were. 

“I had lunch with Mr. Choi today.” He tells you. 

You squint at him. “I know. It’s Thursday.” You pull out a piece of the grass. “What’d he make?”

“Ramen.”

“Was it good?”

“It was okay.”

“Too spicy?”

Suwnoo answers with a sigh, looking away from you and back towards the water. The deafening waves crash against the cliffside. “I know you looked at your file.” He finally says. You stop pulling at the grass. You still. “Mr. Choi told me.”

After he says it, there’s a silence that isn’t actually silent at all. The waves rage below his feet. The seagulls are there too, beneath, above, somewhere, everywhere. And then, of course, there’s you and Sunwoo, trying to be silent over the static in your heads and the machines you’re hooked up to in a universe far far away. 

“Did he tell you about my file?”

He looks at you again. “No.”

“Oh.” You look away, brows furrowed, lick your lips, and then turn back to him. “So why are you upset?”

“After he told me, I went and I…”

“You didn’t.”

“I looked at mine.”

There’s another silence, except that this time it really is quiet. Sunwoo read once whilst in a rabbit hole of medical research that true silence only happens in a vacuum, where there is no medium for sound waves to travel through. This must be that. This place, the files, Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, Clara and her apartment building full of green doors--it’s a vacuum. And they stick people in it then call it the Cloud. They call it extra time. But it isn’t. It’s nothing and he’s stuck in the middle of it. So Sunwo stares at you, straight through the vacuum of time and space you’re both lost in, waits for you to say something, and then waits for himself to hear it. 

“You looked?” You finally say, voice folding in on itself. 

“Yes.” Sunwoo’s own voice is barely there. You must be reading his lips which you’ve always been good at anyways. 

“So you know now?” 

“I always knew, and now, I remember.”

act i. scene iv.

There’s been an accident. 

That’s what they say when the sun falls out of the sky and the world starts spinning in the wrong direction. It’s how they show up at Sunwoo’s door painted in shades of blue and red, with authority in their arms and hands on their hips. How they prepare him for the looming moment where they rip past his skin, blood, bone to shoot a gun straight at his heart. I’m so sorry for your loss, they say leaving him with a bullet lodged somewhere between his left and right atrium. 

And those are the four words that play over and over and over in Sunwoo’s head as he gets to the hospital. Those are the words that crawl inside his open chest and turn him blue and black with infection. There’s been an accident, he remembers, staring at the extraordinary measures taken to keep your heart beating and lungs beating. This is it. Except that the accident isn’t that you’re dying, but that you’re dying. It’s always supposed to have been him. He’s supposed to be the one stuffed with tubes and hooked up to monitors, the one whose life is hanging on by a thread, and you’re supposed to be the one that saves him. It all feels like a play that’s gone horribly wrong because everyone switched parts after intermission without telling him. At what point did you steal the role of dying protagonist from him? 

We did everything we could, a stranger in a white coat says. Except that it’s not some stranger, it’s your colleague and co-worker because this is the hospital you work at and the hospital Sunwoo met you in. There was too much damage to the brain, they explain as the image of their tear-stricken face goes from your friend during intern year to the doctor who operated on you as your brain went dead. 

“We have two options, right?” Sunwoo is far too familiar with surgery and all this. He knows from his hospital days what’s supposed to happen next. But apparently, things have changed since then. 

“Actually, there’s a third option.”

Sunwoo doesn’t waste a second. He jumps out of the chair stained red from his bleeding heart and asks: “What is it?”

“We can upload them.”

act iii. scene ii.

In fifty days of living in the cloud, Sunwoo has learned all about the people that he shares a building with. There’s Mr. Chan who lives behind a vomit green on the same floor as him and who hasn’t left his room since last January. There’s also Mr. Choi, who lives behind the emerald door and invites Suwoo over for lunch every Thursday. Clara lives upstairs, where the walls are painted in various shades of green--olive, seaweed, moss, hunter, shamrock, sage, and others that Sunwoo tries not to think too deeply about. He’s only met Clara once in the past fifty days and has no particular wish to see her again. He hadn’t expected her to be a kid. Cancer, you told him after their introduction in the lobby, poor girl was only seven. As said before, Sunwoo tries not to think about it. 

And then of course there’s you behind the forest green door who has been slowly showing him all the good places. There’s the beach where you spent the day making seashell necklaces. The  cafe which serves its tea too sweet for him, but sweet enough to be considered your favorite. Sunwoo just gets the chocolate bread. You took him downtown. To a club. The tallest building. And to midtown where the amusement park is. 

But his favorite place you’ve taken him so far is the cliffside above the beach, where the waves crash against the rocks in a way that can only be described as violent. That day you and him laid in the grass and stared at the clouds with your heads dangling just over the edge and water spraying the backs of your necks. That day you turned to him and told him you’re sorry. For what, he asked. I’m so sorry you’re sick, you said, but it’s nice to have you around here. I think in a sense, we’ve both been waiting for this. Then, you smiled and stole all of the blood from his body. So yeah, that day, that place--it’s his favorite. 

Today, you take him on a hike up a mountain. 

“Do you believe in an afterlife?” You ask him after having spent thirty minutes silently staring at the view from the best peak. 

“One after this?”

“Yeah. I guess. Although, I’m not so convinced this counts.”

“I don’t know.” Sunwoo shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Do you think we’d be able to be with our loved ones in it?”

His chest lurches. “If there is one, yes.”

“Do you think it’ll be different than this?”

Sunwoo turns to you finally. “Why are you asking about this?”

You shake your head. “Nevermind. It’s a stupid question.”

He turns back towards the view. From here, he can make out Clara’s building. He thinks about her, about Mr. Choi and Mr. Chan, who he recently found out were once married but who haven’t spoken since Mr. Chan read his file in January, and he thinks about you and about him. 

“I think,” Sunwoo says, loud enough so that you can hear after wandering a little bit away from him, “that whatever the afterlife is, if it does exist, it’ll be worth it.”

You turn to him, but don’t make any move to come near him again. “And if it doesn’t exist?”

“Then life will have been worth it.”

The corner of your lip lifts. “I like that.”

Sunwoo only nods at the sentiment, and after a long while, he builds enough courage to ask, “you’ve been here a really long time, haven’t you?”

“Time doesn't work as linearly in the cloud as it does in the real world. Sometimes it feels like I got here and then you arrived the very next day.” You turn back towards the view and exhale heavily. 

“But yes. I’ve been here for an eternity.”

act ii. scene i.

Before he actually sees you, Sunwoo feels you. Not you, in particular, but something in the distance, a presence in the corner of the room and a pair of eyes watching him from somewhere far away. 

The scariest part is how much the feeling doesn’t actually scare him. 

--

Two days after that, he starts to see you in the flesh. He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him, that the person he saw in the produce aisle wasn’t actually you at all and was just a stranger with the same hair. 

He doesn’t go straight home from the store that day. Instead, he stops by the hospital and checks in on you, but even that doesn’t do anything about the fact that he sees a shadow of you behind the bed.

--

The day after that, you speak to him. Standing in the middle of his kitchen in broad daylight, you speak, you say hello, and the first thing Sunwoo thinks is that he’s dead. 

You aren’t, you reply. You’re a zombie, he reasons, here for my brain. I’m not. A ghost. No. Are you, here Sunwoo falters, fear flooding out of his body to make room for the briefest blotch of hope that’s crushed almost immediately by you saying: I’m not alive, Sunwoo. You saw me in the hospital yesterday. 

“So then,” he swallows, “what are you?”

I’m here. You look at him, stare at his face and without a sliver of doubt say, I’m here for you. 

Sunwoo knows it’s impossible. You can’t be here. You can’t. And yet, you are. 

Three years ago Sunwoo was told he had three months left to live, and he still remembers how impossibly you saved him from the brink of death. He remembers how impossible things happen all the time, and how impossibly possible it is that this is one of them. He steps towards you, touches your face, and feels the real, impossible thing against his hand. 

“You’re here.”

--

On the fifth day of your haunting, Sunwoo finally has the sense to ask why. 

Why what?

“Why are you here?”

I’m here for you.

“Stop saying that.”

But I am, you tell him. You asked, and that’s the answer. I’m a doctor, Sunwoo. I’m here for you. 

Then, finally, he hears what you’ve been saying for the past five days. You’re here for him. 

And the thing about doctors is that they’re there for you when you need them. 

“I’m sick.” 

Yes, you answer quietly, although it wasn’t a question. 

“Again.” 

I’m so sorry. 

“You’re a hallucination, aren’t you?” Sunwoo’s shocked by how sad that makes him, how disappointing it is. “I’ve been hallucinating.”

Find me in the Cloud, Sunwoo. There’s something I want to say. 

You’re gone by the time he gets to the hospital. 

act iii. scene i.

Sunwoo stares at the hall of green doors, eyes darting from door to door in an attempt to stare down the shades until they confess which one of them is tea green.

“Clara, the landlord, likes colors.” A voice says from behind him. “Every couple of months she repaints all of the doors in different shades of the same one. Before the green, it was yellow.” 

Sunwoo turns around to face you. When your eyes find him, they go blank for the smallest of moments. You give him a look that goes right through him, turning him inside out like you’ve seen the underside of his skin. It irks him. 

“I’m Sunwoo. I’m new.”

You gulp. “You’re here.” He doesn’t know what to make of the statement. Do all people in the cloud act like this? “Why?”

Sunwoo nods, maybe you’re not so weird as much as you just have a weird way of posing questions. “I was told I’m sick.”

“I’m sorry.” You say, frowning like you actually might feel back for him. 

“Have you been here a while then?” You nod. “Can I ask how long?” You shake your head. Sunwoo doesn’t think too much about it. Instead, he returns your earlier question “Why are you here?”

“Brain dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

You ignore it and point to a door down the hall. “I’m forest green. You?”

“Tea green. But I can’t find-” 

You tap the door in front of him. “This one, genius.”

“Oh.” He laughs awkwardly. “Thanks.”

Your mouth parts as if to say something, and your face goes blank again. He feels his skin turning itself inside out because of it. “Have you read your file yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just got here.”

You inhale, softening, and mutter an ‘okay’. You continue down the hall towards your door. Sunwoo is stuck in place. “I can show you around here, if you like. Take you to all the cool places.”

Sunwoo takes you up on it.

A forest green door slams shut down the hallway. 

act i. scene ii.

“Thank you for taking me out of the hospital.” Sunwoo says, exhaling. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve been to a park like this.” 

And it’s true, he really can’t. He’s been sick for so long now, and has been through a multitude of treatment plans and too many surgeries. When you’re sick and have 9 surgeons turn you down after asking them to save your life, you forget the joy of being outside and feeling the sun on your skin. You were the first doctor to agree to the surgery. You’re the only doctor to have ever treated Sunwoo like he wasn’t dying, like he was actually going to live.

“You don’t have to thank me. This is good for me too.” You say, head resting against the park bench and eyes closed. 

Sunwoo inhales, taking in the park with all his senses. A visceral sort of thing you learn to do as often as possible when you’ve been as close to death as frequently as he has. He feels the wood beneath his body and the grass beneath his feet. He feels the light on his skin and the wind pushing against his arms and nose. He listens to the kids screaming at the playground at the bottom of the hill and to the dogs barking within the dog park beside it. He takes all this in, relishes in it for the last time as a dying person. 

You sigh. “One more surgery.” 

“And then I’ll be done with this sickness.” 

You smile. He pretends not to see. “And then you’ll be done.” 

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“No. Seriously.” 

You smile again, this time at him. Sunwoo doesn’t have to pretend not to see. “I haven’t finished saving it yet.”

He leans back against the bench and closes his eyes. “But you will.” 

You tap on your coffee cup. “Honestly though, you did more work than me.” Sunwoo frowns while you take a sip. “The other nine doctors you called are good doctors, and they made the same judgement call I would have made for any other patient. No sane doctor would have agreed to treat you. But you were the reason I said yes. You had such faith that you were going to live and so much faith that I could do it that I believed you. I might be the one doing the technical saving, but you, Sunwoo, you’re the one who convinced me to do it. You saved yourself.”

He stares at you. The light hits your eyes like it’s finding a way to break through them. In truth, before Sunwoo got sick, he didn’t think he was scared of death, but he is. He’s terrified of it. Sunwoo realized it two weeks after his diagnosis and the day after he was wrongly told he only had three more months left to live. But now, for the first time since he was diagnosed, he doesn't feel so afraid of it. Despite how far he’s come and how close he is to beating this fucking illness, while staring at the light woven through your eyes, Sunwoo thinks he could live with himself if he dropped dead tonight. 

That thought alone, is almost as terrifying as death used to be. 

act iii. scene v.

“I saw your ghost, you know.” It’s the first thing Sunwoo has said to you in over two weeks. “It wasn’t actually you though, was it?” You don’t even bother looking up from your cup of tea. Through the silence, Sunwoo orders a coffee. 

“I didn’t know that.” The coffee turns lukewarm. “It wasn’t me.” You push an uneaten half of chocolate bread towards him. “It’s in your brain this time. Symptoms can include hallucinations.”

“Think you can still save me?” You can’t. If you know that much, you know he’s out of medical miracles, and that this time, he really won’t survive it. But it’s a joke. And you laugh at it.

“Definitely not. I never really liked neurosurgery.”

And all at once, he’s painfully aware of your friend somewhere in the real world that does like it but watched anyways as your brain died before her, split wide open. 

“Anyways, how do you know all of this?” But what Sunwoo really wants to say is brains are killer. Literally. Figuratively. 

“I’ve known since we...“ you hesitate, mouth stuck halfway through a word he can’t place. “After last time, I read your chart and looked at your scans.” Sunwoo nods. He expected as much. He doesn’t ask how you got them. “I’m sorry you're sick again.” You say to him quietly. “I’m sorry you’re dying.”

“I’m sorry you’re dead.” As soon as the words have left his mouth, he regrets them. Because you aren’t. And he knows you too well to think you’d look past the technicality. 

You scoff, shake your head slightly, and with a spiteful smile say, “Can I say it?”

Sunwoo only sighs. “Let’s start over instead.” 

You nod. He pushes the chocolate bread back. 

act iii. scene iv.

Mr. Choi was the one to recommend that Sunwoo give you and himself space. It’s been a month since you and him last spoke, since that moment hovering above the waves after he read his file and after he found out you read yours. He misses you, and has been for so long now. Mr. Choi was wrong. Sunwoo’s standing outside your forest green door to prove it. 

You open the door before he can knock. There’s no shock in your voice when you say his name, like you’ve been waiting for this day, expecting it. 

He looks behind you, at your apartment in Clara’s building that looks just like your apartment in the real world. The same one he cleaned out after you died, still filled with things he gave to your family or donated or took back to his place. He wants to crumble just looking at it again. “Can I come in?”

“It’s only been a month.”

And he knows what you mean by it. Three months is the recommended time off after reading one’s file. To reacclimate, they say, to process. But the insinuation that Sunwoo was supposed to go three months without seeing you makes him feel sick. The insinuation that after a year of being without you in the real world he was supposed to be without you here too, enrages him. Then he remembers how long you’ve been here, and how long you’ve been doing this and feels slightly murderous.

All he says is: “It’s been a lot longer than that for you.”

Your lip twitches. You lock and unlock the open forest green door five times before saying, “Are you sure?”

He nods. You let him in. 

Sunwoo used to imagine what it would be like to meet you again in the Cloud one day. He imagined tears and hugs and kisses. He imagined i love you’s and i hate you’s and i miss you. He imagined the scenario more times than can possibly be considered healthy. But he imagined something. He was waiting for the day. Waiting for this day. But this moment, sitting at your round wood table while you boil water for tea, is nothing like the million different ways he imagined seeing you again. 

And as you set down two mismatched mugs and take the seat across from him, he doesn’t even try to create one of them. “How long has it been since you read your file?”

You watch the steam rise from your tea for a long moment, then stand, grab the sugar and pour a spoonful of it into your tea. You take another spoonful and look at him expectantly. “Want some?” He nods, and you pour the sugar into his. You stir the tea then taste, then cringe, then add more sugar and then ask if he wants it. He refuses. You stir again. Sunwoo watches the whirlpool and waits the eternity it takes you to say: “I read it on my first day.”  

You put the sugar away, satisfied with the tea’s sweetness while Sunwoo marvels at how long you’ve known and how silently you’ve been carrying the knowledge of you and him since he came. And that knowledge is what makes him finally remember one of the reasons he came. “Is there something you want to tell me?” You look up at him when he asks it, exhaling like you’ve been wanting to bring it up for so long now, which Sunwoo guesses isn’t as much of a simile as he thinks it is. 

“Yes, actually. I…” you hesitate, flicking the mug as if the right words will come hopping out of the tea. Sunwoo watches for it. “I’ve just been here for a long time now, Sunwoo.”

“Two years isn’t that long.”

“Time doesn’t work the same here as it does down there.” You tell him tiredly. “It’s been decades.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“In the beginning, I didn’t mind the waiting. I knew you were on your way, but I just,” you hesitate, “I didn’t think it’d take so long for you to come back to me.” 

Sunwoo covers your hand with his. “I’m sorry.” You twist your palm into it, squeeze, then pull your hand away. Sunwoo swallows. “I came as fast as I could.”

“I know. I waited.”

“Do you regret it?” Sunwoo’s terrified of what the answer might be.

You don’t give it. “That’s not what I meant.” 

“Then?”

“I’ve been here for so long, and,” your head drops, voice breaking under the weight it carries, “it’s been so lonely.”

“But I’m here now.” Sunwoo says, leaning forward against the table. “You aren’t alone anymore.”

“I know you’re here. I know, and I thought that would fix it, but it didn’t. Seeing you in the hall that day was so bittersweet, because you were here but that also meant you were somewhere else dying. Because you were here and I still felt lonely.” You stop, chugg the remaining bits of your tea, and then wipe your cheeks. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

“No.” But it’s a lie. He does get it. He knows all about loneliness and the way it creeps inside, so slyly. The way it starts small and then grows, feeding on negligence, until it's too big for your body. He knows how it sits inside you, for all its enormity, and spills into everything. He knows how it lingers. How it has nothing to do with people or lack of them and everything to do with grief. Sunwoo knows all about loneliness. The day he read his file he felt a dam of it burst open within him. 

“I’m saying that in the real world I saved you, and now it’s your turn to save me.” You gulp. “I’m saying that I want you to unplug me.”

It takes a moment for Sunwoo to even register what you’ve said, but when he does remember the life support that’s keeping your body alive somewhere in a universe far away, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands and walks out of your apartment. 

act i. scene iii.

“Doctor, please present.” The attending announces, stepping into Sunwoo’s room for rounds. 

“Mr. Kim,” a resident starts, flipping open his chart, “was diagnosed 14 months ago and has gone through several different treatment plans. When he came to us, the illness had spread and was deemed inoperable and untreatable by several other physicians. Our treatment plan was aggressive and grueling but ultimately, effective. Sunwoo is 20 days post op from his third and final surgery. The surgery went extremely well with no complications and his vitals were excellent. He has been a model patient all throughout recovery, and according to our latest scans, he is also now illness free…”

Sunwoo doesn’t even bother listening to the rest. 

--

“So, now that I’m no longer a patient, if I ask you out on a date, will you actually say yes?” 

“Well,” you say, signing his discharge papers, “only one way to know.”

“What is it?”

You look up at him, smiling. “Ask me again.”

He does. 

You say yes. 

act iii. scene v. take ii. 

“I saw your ghost.” The first thing Sunwoo says after the last failed attempt.

You look up from your tea. “It wasn’t me.” 

“I know.” Sunwoo orders another coffee. “But the hallucination was how I knew I was sick again. It made me feel like you were trying to warn me, like you were up here somewhere caring from a distance. Right after I pieced it all together you told me to find you here and that there was something you wanted to say.” The coffee turns lukewarm again. Sunwoo can’t bring himself to say it. You sigh and push the same piece of chocolate bread back towards him. This time, he takes a bite from it. And with a mouthful of chocolate bread, he cries, “I just got you back, and now you want to leave all over again.”

You frown. “I didn’t want to leave the first time, and it’s different now.”

“How?”

“I want to go. Isn’t that worth something?”

“And what about what I want?”

“Oh, Sunwoo,” you say, “I’m sorry you’re sick. The hallucination was you and your head, but for what it’s worth, I have been up here caring from a distance. I still…” you don’t need to say the words. He knows. He never had to doubt it. “I never stopped.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked of me.” Sunwoo tells you. He made the decision last week but today, right now, with your confession still falling through the air, is the first time he’s had the stomach to swallow it. “And I’ll do it. I will. I just need some time. You’ve had so long and in comparison I’ve had nothing.”

“Okay.” You say simply.

“How long can you give me?”

You smile. “You know I’d give you an eternity if you asked for it.”

“I’m scared.” Sunwoo confesses then. “I know it’s what you want, but selfishly, I don’t want to let you again. I don’t know if I’m a big enough person to do it.”

“I do.” You say to him, leaning forward against the table and looking straight through him. “I know because I was your doctor. I have cut inside your body, seen all your organs, and during surgery two, I held your heart in my hands. I felt it beating. So I know exactly how big it is, and I know it’s big enough for this”

Sunwoo feels the heart you worked so hard to repair bursting inside of him. 

“God. Why’d you have to read your file so soon?”

You laugh. “I missed you. I couldn’t help it.”

And just like that, you’ve stolen the entire concept of fear from him. 

“I’m ready.”

“What?”

He looks at you and feels the loneliness slither away.

“Ask me again.”

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx

Part 7 | settima parte

warnings; love sucks man. word count;  1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.

“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.

It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.

Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.

“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.

“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.

After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.

“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”

So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.

______________________________________________________________

“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.

“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.

Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.

“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.

“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.

“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.

“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.

“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”

Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.

“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”

“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?

“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”

“Ok ok, sorry, continue”

“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”

I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.

“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.

“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”

“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”

I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.

“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”

He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.

“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.

“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”

“How do you know what club I'm going to?”

“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”

Part 8. | parte otto

[writing-in-april]

My Knight in Shiny Armor

Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Reader is a fantasy novelist and writes Spencer into their story.

A/N: Heyy heyyy- this is my entry for the SFW fic swap that @imagining-in-the-margins organized! (Can y’all tell how much I love fic swaps I might have to organize one myself one day) This is a super fluffy little fic for @thekatherinewinchester! Hope y’all enjoy and my entry for the NSFW fic swap will be coming soon! If you have any requests they are open and I’m looking for requests for my next event- 30 fics in 30 days for April 2021 (I’ll make up a better title soon I promise) thanks for reading!

Warnings: this is so fluffy there’s no warnings 🥰- unless you don’t like the secret relationship trope

Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.2k

Garcia came up to me with a giddy look on her face as I was pouring sugar into my next cup of coffee. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that she was holding a book that looked similar to a novel that I was extremely familiar with. A blush on my face immediately formed and I forgot that I was still pouring sugar into my cup, though I’m sure that I’d still like the excessive amount of sugar I put into my coffee. As Garcia had said before, it was my ‘brand’, whatever that means.

I cleared my throat in preparation for the interrogation I was about to face, “What’s up Garcia?”

Instead of point blank telling me what she was all giddy about she opened the hard covered novel in her hands with green binding that I had seen numerous copies of.

“The mysterious man was taller than the rest of us by far, with fluffy brown hair that his helmet tried in vain to hide. It wasn’t just his handsome looks that drew me to him, it was also his intellectual abilities. He was far superior in intellect to any other man I had met in the world. The rousing conversations I had with him also made me feel respected by him which was much more than I could say compared to the other men I had met. The name of the mysterious knight in the shiny armor that had invaded all my thoughts as of late was named, Spencer.”

Once she finished the excerpt of the book she shut it dramatically then raising her eyebrows, I knew exactly what she was asking with her nonverbal cues, “I’m friends with the author…”

The look on her face after I trailed off told me that she wasn’t buying my lie. I was about to say something more convincing, but Garcia was not impressed with my attempts to get out of this ‘interrogation’.

“Oh- no no no, you aren’t getting away with it that easy, boy wonder. The blush on your face isn’t fooling me.” Her calling out my blush only served to make my face an even deeper shade of red, I could tell just from how hot the room suddenly felt. She continued on despite my deepening cheek color, “I want to know how you got your New York Times Best Seller partner, tell me everything.”

I figured there was no way to deny it now, the way I fidgeted and the blush on my cheeks gave it away easily. Even though Garcia wasn’t trained to study human behavior she wasn’t stupid and I wasn’t a good liar. So, I proceeded to tell her the story of how we met.

Of course as soon as I finished the story of how we met at a coffee shop Garcia bombarded me with more questions and brought the rest of the team to ask. She even got Morgan to say he’d read the book because he wanted to know “what does pretty boy look like in shining armor?” Which Garcia of course had to correct, as she had read the rest of the book.

As I was riding the metro after work my mind decided to wander about what had happened today. At first I was excited to share with Y/N about what happened today, but then I started to worry. What if they didn’t want to tell anyone?

We hadn’t really discussed telling everyone about our relationship besides passing comments in conversation. I worried that maybe they wouldn’t want to tell everyone because maybe they’d be embarrassed to be seen with me. Maybe that’s why they hadn’t brought up me telling the team much.

Once I had gotten back to my apartment I opened the door and was immediately greeted with the smell of Y/N’s cooking. Normally, I’d be super excited that they decided to pop in my apartment, but my anxiety about what had happened today was taking over my mind. I was rooted to the floor in front of my door, not wanting to have to admit to them that I had told everyone.

“How’s my favorite genius?” Their melodic voice called out from the kitchen. There was no way I could avoid it now, they’d probably be able to immediately tell that I was anxious. They were good at being able to tell exactly what I was thinking, and it wasn’t even their job. I often joked with them that their ability to read my behavior was as good as mine.

I decided I better get this over with.

As I walked over to my small apartment kitchen I prepared my explanation in my head. When they spotted me they opened their mouth to speak and I just started to rant, “I may have told the team about you. I got cornered by Garcia in the break room and she happened to have your book and read the parts where you wrote a character based on me- and”

“Slow down, baby.” They cut my ranting off once they had gotten her bearings. Normally being cut off makes me annoyed, but in this case I could tell I was in a swirling anxious mind set that I wouldn’t break out of unless an outside force helped me stop. I took a deep breath, which did help slow down my racing thoughts. Once I had slightly refocused my thoughts I noticed that they were looking over at me from where they were standing over the pot of pasta at the stove with a look of concern, which surprised me.

“You’re not mad?”

They turned the oven off as the pasta was definitely done now, making their way over to the other side of the kitchen where I stood. Bringing their warm hands up they cupped my cheeks and then asked with sweetness, “Why would I be mad.”

I couldn’t help but start to spill my thoughts into another rant to try and explain my reasoning, “Well- I didn’t really talk about telling them with you and I know that communication is important in a relationship from what I’ve read. And it felt like I made a mistake because I wasn’t communicating properly and I’m an idiot, I’m sorry you have to date someone who doesn’t know anything about relationships.”

“Spencer, it’s ok I promise. I was going to ask if maybe you wanted to introduce me to them soon anyway and- you aren’t stupid I promise, baby. You’re a genius, remember?

After we ate the dinner they had cooked they brought out their book to read to me, specifically the part in reference where my fictional counterpart came to save the day.

“You’re my knight in shiny armor.” They said with fondness, this was my favorite line in the book.

“Shiny armor? Why not shining armor?” I had asked this question numerous times since I had seen the same line in their book. I knew the conversation in the novel like the back of my hand and every time we read the book together we enacted the conversation. They acted out the protagonist’s lines perfectly, which was not surprising since the protagonist was partially based on them from their own admission.

“I don’t know, I just think it sounds cuter,” Their words were as sweet as honey, making me want to lean in to kiss them, but they needed to finish the line, “and in my book, you’re cuter than all other knights in shining armor.”

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

[faulty-writes]

Alright so. For the past few days, I have just wanted to scream. Mostly because writing is a passion of mine and I'm tired of all the excuses and boundaries I've experienced with it lately. So I figured, I'd make some comfort pieces. Not sure if these are headcanons or drabbles. But all credit for this prompt goes to this lovely individual. Please excuse my icons appearances below, I made them in a rush. I'll redesign them later. Until then I hope you enjoy, at least you know faulty-writes cares.

PROMPT: You’re just lying on the floor of your bedroom, maybe listening to music, reading, or just staring up at the ceiling. Your comfort character walks in, not saying a word (or they do whatever) and just lays down next to you, maybe they join in on whatever task you’re doing if you’re doing one. Now you’re just vibing.

Nothing had been going right lately, the more you tried the worse it got. Like some invisible entity was hand-delivering you a continuous dose of karma for little to no reason. Despite being a third-year student and someone who faced down countless villains. You, for once, felt utterly defeated as you laid on your bedroom floor, staring at the ceiling.

You didn't expect anyone to knock on your door, "Pardon! Y/n, but may I have permission to enter your bedroom?" you should have known Tenya would take it upon himself to check on your well-being and show concern when he saw you laying on the floor with your arms and legs spread in such a way that it appeared you truly had just plopped yourself down and refused to move.

He was immediately by your side, lowering himself to his knees before leaning over you. Taking you in from head to toe to make sure you were physically okay. "Are you injured? Did someone grow violent and push or harm you in any way?!" his hand as usual chopped through the air as he rambled off his questions but you simply shook your head refusing to speak.

He seemed to take the hint that something was wrong, but also seemed to understand that his questions wouldn't get him anywhere. "I hope you have properly cleaned this floor prior to laying on it," you knew Tenya was a clean and tidy person, the thought of laying on a dirty floor must have disgusted him. But you hadn't fully expected him to do it, that is lay next to you. Staring at the ceiling just like you and you tried to ignore the tingles that coursed through your skin when your hands brushed against one another.

The silence was almost welcomed, and Tenya seemed to understand that perhaps all you needed was someone to sit with you through the silence and be there for the possible storm that could follow. Slowly he enclosed his hand around yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze which caused you to turn your head. You were surprised to see such a kind smile on his face but somehow you knew it meant that everything would be okay.

The television was the only thing that illuminated the room as you laid on the floor, listening to the voices echo and drone on about something you didn't know or care about. Maybe you had put the television on so you wouldn't feel alone. It had been a rotten day and though you could have easily climbed into bed, slept the rest of the night away. You found yourself not wanting to move an inch.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice your closest friend, Taishiro walk into the room. His round curvy figure maneuvering past the doorframe and a bright smile was on his face before he took notice of how dark the room was. "Enjoying yourself a little shade are ya?" he teased in his normal happy tone before he went to flick the lights back on, "I think a little sunshine looks better on ya," he joked, but his smile faded when he noticed you laying on the floor.

Taishiro normally wasn't one to pry, unless you happened to be a villain. But you should have expected him to ask you again and again what was wrong. The way his gentle hand grasped and tugged your arm, "Come on now, let's see that bright smile! It does wonders for me ya know, whenever I see ya wearing it. Well I couldn't be more blessed knowing I got to see ya so happy," you knew he meant his words, but you still didn't move nor speak and Taishiro seemed to know when he was bested. But even so, you knew that wouldn't stop him from doing what he did next.

He had insisted you would be more comfortable laying on top of him as opposed to the floor. But you remained silent all the same, even as he laid his arms over you. Gently stroking your hair and massaging the small of your back. "Ya know, ya can always tell me anything. I ain't about judging ya for what ya been through, but I also don't mind if ya wanna stay silent. Just as long as I can continue to hold ya nice and close," he said and you could feel his arms tighten around you.

You didn't recall anything after those sweet words, only the continued silence between you and Taishiro and the way your body slowly sank into his. His comforting embrace welcomed after such a rotten day. His breathing seemed to drown out the television as you closed your eyes and allowed that very sound to lull you to sleep. It was more comforting than you'd admit, feeling so safe and sound in someone's arms. Knowing you'd be protected until the morning.

Music was the one thing that seemed to comfort you after a bad day, the lyrics depicting your emotions perfectly as they echoed in your ears and allowed you to drown out the world around you. The sounds outside your door blocked out, and for good reason. You didn't want to face anyone today. In fact, you were pretty certain that you didn't want to see anyone for the rest of your life.

But your classmates seemed to notice the fact that you had locked yourself away and it seemed they had voted that Shouto Todoroki would be the one to check up on you. However, the knocks went unnoticed by you as did the fact that Shouto let himself in after he heard no response. It was almost scary to open your eyes only to see two different colored ones staring back at you, but Shouto seemed indifferent to your reaction. "Are you alright...why are you on the floor?" he questioned in his usual monotone way.

It was almost amusing when Shouto took notice of the music you were listening to, the sound faintly blasting from your earbuds. "You can't hear what I'm saying with those," he stated, but all you saw were his lips moving. He blinked and reached down, attempting to take one earbud out but you grasped his hand and simply shook your head. "Oh...I see," his posture relaxed some as he got the message and proceeded to sit next to you, crossing his legs to allow his arms to rest on his ankles.

He didn't entirely seem to understand why you were doing what you were doing. But in a way, it was nice to have his company. After a long moment, you noticed Shouto was staring at you like he was waiting for you to say or do something. You reached up, taking out one earbud to hold out to him. He seemed confused by the gesture but took it anyway, "Would...you like me to listen with you?" he questioned, though it took him a few seconds to place the earbud into his ear. Eyebrows furrowing together as the new sound echoed through his ear.

You wouldn't have thought that Shouto of all people could provide you with silent comfort. But it was nice that he was there and taking part in something you loved to do. Eventually, you convinced him to lay on the floor with you and found yourself smiling as you played song after song for him. The curious expressions that played across his face almost made your horrible day worth it. You only paused the music for a short moment to thank him, but he seemed oblivious to the reason behind your thank you. Maybe one day he'd learn just how much his presence comforted you.