#i'm not really bad with change but give me SOMETHING familiar to grasp onto why won't you

[sassylegshayne]

support your local caffeine dealer: chapter 3

okay, okay I really feel like this is where the story starts to pick up, I hope y'all like it 💗 message me any thoughts about it!! this one is finally 2k words long!!

series masterlist🫶

texts will be bold and italicized like this

Shayne kept his word, even taking a different route home as to avoid passing by the shop. He almost couldn't bring himself to do it, but let's not dwel on that too much. He caught himself setting his alarms a bit earlier, hopefully giving himself the time to see you.

He's got a smile on his face as the familiar bell rings above his head at the start of the next morning, his eyes already searching for you behind the counte.

"Hey, getting the usual?"

He felt bad that he wasn't indulging in the lives of the employees, as he usually does, not wanting to put forth the effort for his small friendships today.

The man nods, relatively quiet as he pays and waits.

A small laugh from behind him catches his attention, turning to glance over his shoulder. You sat a few tables away, tugging your headphones off as you grin at him. Bite the bullet, you thought to yourself, you should enjoy these small moments with your favorite, pretty stranger.

"Come here often?" You chirp, chuckling as Shayne grabs his drink, shaking his head. You nod, motioning him over to you. You couldn't help but take in his outfit, his dark green shirt looks soft, fitting him well. Very well. As did his blue jeans, the small rips showing peeks of skin from beneath.

Shayne checks his watch, noting he could probably make it to work on time, he should take a few minutes to talk with you. He feels his heart racing in the best way possible, his palms begin to sweat again. The ability you held, making him more nervous than he thought anyone could, was something he hoped would never change.

"Ya know, I came here yesterday and the service was terrible, I don't know why I came back." Shayne chuckles, sipping his drink as he seats himself in the chair across from you, eyeing you over the edge of his cup.

You scoff, placing a hand to your chest as you shake your head softly.

"What a shame, you should talk to the manager about it," you shrug, leaning your arms onto the table.

"Not to pry into your life or anything but, what do you do for a living, Shayne? You seem to have quite a bit of free time to spend here."

Shayne nods, chuckling, it's only fair to share that information, obviously he knows where you work. Maybe this could be fun, sharing small parts of your lives with each other. This felt safe to him, this felt like a budding friendship, and he should allow it to happen.

"I'm an actor," he answers, waiting for any sort of eye roll or comment he's used to, but all he gets is an expectant look, you were encouraging him to continue. You wanted to hear mnore.

He allows himself to indulge, explaining that Damien works with him too, the both acting and staring as personalities on the internet. You thought it was cute, but didnt quite grasp the scale of how large their company was, and Shayne enjoyed that.

Itd been quite sometime since he'd met anyone who didn't have the same job as him, or didn't know him for his career. The two of you continued on for a while, lost in the small talk of getting to know each other. Small questions, where you were from, what brought you here; Shayne felt much more comfortable than he expected to when he satwith you.

He managed to speak to you, have a full conversation, he was proud of himself. And you were proud of yourself; you shared little, yes, but this was a beginning, this was a start for you two. Less strangers now, and that's what you wanted.

Shayne trailed off as his phone buzzes repeatedly, drawing his attention to the time. Forty-five minutes past the call time.

"Fuck.." The man muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair and chuckling. "I'm sorry, I.. I really enjoyed this, Y/N, but am pretty late for a shoot.."

You looked to him with wide eyes, shaking your head.

"I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to keep you here, butI had fun, this was nice." You offer, smiling brightly as he stands.

You chew your lip, grabbing a pen before taking his hand, quickly sprawling your number across his palm before you had the time to second-guess yourself.

"Text me or call me, if you want to." Your heart was pounding, a blush evident on your cheeks. What did you have to lose? If he texts you, that's great, if not, then you will continue on like it never even happened. Just two strangers whơve talked a time or two, nothing more.

Shayne looked from his hand, admiring your name scribbled beneath your number, back to you with a bright grin. He felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. You liked this, you enjoyed this enough to want to continue it. You wanted to text, to call, to give him more of your time, more of yourself.

"I will, I promise. I-I hope you have a good day, and, hey, maybe I'll see you tomorrow." He punctuates with a wink, spurring a small giggle from you, pink tinging your cheeks once more.

"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, Shayne."

The man quickly exits the shop, stealing a look over his shoulder to find you meeting his eyes already, both of your faces plastered with small, shy smiles.

He makes quick work of texting lan that he'd overslept, he'd make it in a few minutes. He pocketed his phone as he entered the building, after adding you to his contacts.

"y/n☕" his screen read as he looked to the empty text thread.

His mind races with what to say, nothing seeming quite good enough, so he settles for sipping his drink. He'll figure it out later.

As he enters the set, his eyes meet Damien's, a smirk on his friends lips. Shayne shoots the man a confused look as he settles into his seat beside him.

"Late because you overslept but you still took the time to get coffee, hm."

Damien teased, prompting Shayne to tuck his drink beside his chair, under the table. He shrugged, wringing his hands together a bit nervously.

"I was already late, a few minutes wasn't gonna make it much worse."

Damien's eyes dart to Shayne's hand, his mouth agape as he breathlessly chuckles.

"ls that a phone number?"

Shayne shifts in his seat, hoping Damien hadn't caught your name inked into his skin as well. "Yeah, need to call about a casting for something, didn't wanna forget the number."

His chest burned as he spoke. He knew he didn't have to lie, he could've told his best friend the truth, and he wouldn't keep lying forever. He just wanted this to be his for now; wanted you to be his.

He knew his friends would love you, he knew you'd fit in, but for now, he was allowed to be selfish; keeping you to himself. You were special, he didn't want to rush anything. Shayne wanted you to be his, to share your light with his friends. But for now, you'd remain in his mind constantly.

You didn't want to admit it to yourself, but you were definitely waiting for a text from Shayne.

He's at work, he's probably just busy, he's probably with his friends, probably.. at lunch.

It sucked that you couldn't help your anxiety from putting you on edge, your mind running with every terrible possibility to explain why you hadn't heard from him.

As if Shayne knew, he finally got a free minute in his busy shooting schedule.

"hi"

He was already beating himself up, don't worry. He'd spent all this time dwelling on what he should say; maybe something funny, something flirty. But no, he settled for a simple hello.

"it took you that long to type two letters? very underwhelming"

Fuck, why would she say that? What has possessed her to immediately message him so rudely.

"Imfao, okay, that's fair. should start over? we can act like that never even happened"

He audibly chuckled, a bit surprised that she was so quick to poke fun at him. He liked a little bit of push and pull like that, the ability to bounce off of someone else.

"no, no, I'll take it, just try better next time"

She unknowingly brought another smile to his face.

"I gotta run back to a shoot, but talk to you later"

"maybe"

She was a bit giddy seeing him give her back a bit of the attitude she was giving him.

"ttyl maybe x"

His heart fluttered just a smidge when he reads the x. A hug? Cute.

Was he seriously overthinking a single letter in a text message from his favorite barista? He never thought he'd have a favorite barista, but here he stood, grinning at his phone.

Damien coughed a bit as he slid on to the couch beside his friend.

"You ready to tell me about it yet?"

Shayne mulled over his options yet again, still not certain what he should say, if anything at all.

"Well, I got her number this morning."

The brunette broke into a grin, eyebrows raised. Damien wouldn't have thought that he'd get that far, at least not yet. Shayne had been single for quite a bit now, unless you count a few unsuccessful dates. He'd seen Shayne do some shameless flirting with a stranger before, but something about this time felt different.

Damien nudges his shoulder into his friend's, nodding his head.

"I'm proud of you."

"She gave it to me."

This made him shrug,

"You still got it, you put forth the effort for it, didn't you?"

Shayne shrugged back, unsure of what exactly convinced you to give him your number, but he must've done something right.

Damien nodded, knowing exactly how Shayne's mind works, pretty much spot on for guessing his friends thoughts.

As you finish up your shift, your phone buzzes oftly in your pocket.

"no espresso now I'm depresso"

You coughed, caught off guard by the message, a bit of laughter spilling from you.

"that was terrible, I'm sorry about your lack of caffeine, but that was very, very bad"

She chewed her lip again, humming in thought before deciding she liked these small changes to see him much more than she thought she did.

"i can bring you some coffee if you want? can grab it before my shift ends"

Is he having a heart attack? Heart palpitations? All of the above? He tried to calm his breaths, his mind racing before he quickly moved through the office, heading straight for the games room.

He burst in as quietly as he could before heading toward Damien, who sat with headphones on, humming softly as he loaded into a game.

Shayne set his phone on the desk, the text thread lighting up his screen, allowing Damien to read over them.

As soon as the last message was read, Damien took off his headphones, spinning spinning his seat to face Shayne.

"Say yes, this is another opportunity to see her, and she'll learn some more about you." Damien encouraged, Shayne nodding his head softly.

Shayne didn't think he could speak, he might throw up. Why was he so nervous? She's just bringing coffee to his office, that's a very normal, very friendly thing to do.

"i'd love that, actually, but you don't have to, I can survive"

Shayne sat at his desk, his leg shaking in anticipation of a response.

"😇 send me the address, be there asap to help cure your depresso"

[stolligaseptember]

i'm not the least bit sorry about my reaction every single time someone on my dash has the audacity to change both their url and icon at the same time is to go "who the FUCK are you"

[kookscrescent]

A Needy, Desperate Fuck Up (m) │ pjm

❒ pairing: jimin x female reader ❒ summary: jimin’s desperation leads to a fuck up. ❒ prompt: "Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that's not fucking good!" and "Fuck! I'm not on the pill!" ❒ rating: nc-17, 18+ ❒ genre: smut, pwp ❒ warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), dirty talk, cursing, accidental creampie, rough sex, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, choking, crying, Jimin is neeedyyyy for that puzz puzz ❒ word count: 3.1k │ unedited ❒ release date: may 8th 2021 ❒ disclaimer: This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡

The door to your bedroom barely has a chance to close properly before Jimin has you pressed flat against the wall. The coldness of the exposed brick wall has goosebumps rising on your rapidly heating skin, and you shudder at the contact.

But you don’t care. All you can think about is the way Jimin feels pressed against your body – the hard panels of his toned chest and abdominal muscles, not to mention his hard length growing against your leg.

You can’t help but moan at the feeling. It’s been way too long since you and Jimin have had sex! He’s been extremely busy with recording for the new album, and his schedule is almost jammed packed every day, and on the rare occasion that he has a few hours of free time, you would much rather have him spend it on catching up on some rest.

But something had come over him the minute he opened your front door and stepped inside. Like you normally would, you’d yelled out a hello to him, letting him know you were in the kitchen, with your hands buried in the dirty dish water as you were cleaning the few dishes you had neglected since the day before. You hadn’t heard him call back a hello to you like he normally would, but you thought he might just be tired and didn’t really think anything of it. However, you did hear him entering the kitchen and stopping just behind you. About to ask him if he was hungry and if he wanted you to make him something, you’d dried your hands on the nearest rag, but you didn’t even manage to get a proper look at him before his hands were in your hair and his lips were claiming yours in a hard kiss.

It took your breath away. Literally. The rag fell to the floor without a sound and without pulling away to question his sudden behavior you grabbed his face in your hands, trying to bring him closer. He took the hint and stepped forward, pushing his chest and pelvis against your body. he was hot and cold at the same time. His clothes cold from the slight breeze outside, but his hands and lips warm and hot against your skin.

Things escalated pretty quickly from that point and you honestly can’t really remember the journey from the kitchen to your bedroom. Every breath you each take is rushed and breathy, and all you seem to recall is hands frantically trying to remove pieces of clothing and said clothing landing haphazardly on the floor in a line behind you. Hard and wet kisses to your lips and neck, and your hands desperately trying to undo the string on Jimin’s joggers.

At this point you’ve both managed to get each other undressed, both of you now lying naked on the bed, Jimin hovering above you, your legs caging him in and his hard cock resting between your soaked folds as he slowly grinds himself against you. Your mouths are a hot mess, lips slipping and sliding over each other and your tongues erotically dancing.

It’s like all hell have broken loose and the both of you have just lost it. You have no idea what has spurred on his sudden desperate need to claim you, but you can’t say that you mind one bit. You’re equally as desperate to have him, not having felt him inside of you for almost three weeks!

Throwing your head back, you groan as the tip of his cock nudge your clit. “Shit, that feels so good!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” You find his eyes, hoping to god he won’t stop moving against you.

He leans down for another kiss. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed your sweet pussy!” He rumbles, lifting to his hands so he can watch his cock effortlessly slid between your folds, your slick coating every thick inch of him. “Fuck, I need to taste you baby.”

With a jerk he moves down your body, your legs automatically parting wider to make room for him. Once settles between your legs, Jimin looks up at you from under lust clouded eyes, his pupils so dark and intense that you become slightly nervous. Pressing a kiss to the juncture of your thigh, he gently and ever so slowly runs the tip of his pointer finger down your slit, collecting your juices before sucking his finger clean.

He groans and you almost dissipate on the spot. His finger returns to your heat as another kiss is pressed to the juncture of your thigh. He repeats his previous action – running his finger down your slit, collecting your arousal, but he stops at your entrance, teasingly circling your hole. He pushes in just an inch before retreating and you mumble a frustrated please. You lock eyes, just as a second finger joins the first and he pushes in all the way to his knuckles.

Your head hits the pillows in a sigh of relief. He pushes in and out of you in a slow and tantalizing rhythm. It has your head swimming, and you need more.

“Please Jimin, please! Don’t tease me.”

“Don’t tease you baby?” he repeats and following with a kiss right above your clit. “Why not?”

Arrogant shit, you think!

“It’s been so long…” you mumble, your voice muffled by the pillows when he begins to pick up the pace. “Make me cum!”

“Hmmm,” he places another kiss above your clit, so close to touching but never enough to give you the relief you want. He begins scissoring his fingers inside of you, and the familiar fire starts in your stomach. “Want me to make you cum with my mouth babygirl?”

You nod frantically! “Yes yes yes ye- ahhhh!” You’re abruptly cut off by the feeling of Jimin’s tongue finally making contact with your clit. He gently licks it – long fat swipes with his warm tongue.

The sounds coming out of you is only spurring him on. Two fingers turn to three and he sucks your clit so violently it has your hips rising from the bed. He easily folds one arm across your lower abdomen, holding you down as he continues to suck.

The fire picks up, and your cries grows louder and louder with each suck of his mouth and each thrust of his fingers. You can’t remember a time where you’ve ever wanted, no needed, to cum so desperately. You can almost taste the release on your tongue. So close.

You can feel how eager Jimin is to make you explode on his tongue as well. He pushes the entirety of his face into your soaked pussy. His tongue working you so feverishly, his nose bumping your sensitive clit.

You grasp at his hair, pushing his face deeper into you and he groans in respond. The vibration sending a wave of tingles through your clit and all the way down to your toes, making them curl. You feel like your brain is no longer connected to the rest of your body, your legs and hips having a life of their own – bucking wildly against his face, trying to reach your high.

Slipping his fingers out of you, he reaches up to press your hips to the bed with both of his hands, making you completely immobilized.

You’re about to whine at the loss of his fingers inside of you, but Jimin is quick to replace them with his fat tongue instead.

“Ah…ah Jimin- oh god!” You moan.

He continues his feast. Slurping and sucking every inch of your wet pussy. You’re so close, so fucking close to cumming, every nerve in your body is on high alert, ready to explode in a fit of euphoria.

Jimin moans between your legs. Loving the way your sweet juices cover his face and tongue. If he’s not careful, the mere taste of you on his tongue combined with the way you sound when you’re losing control, he could probably cum.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” You plead, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp, yanking at his hair.

He doesn’t stop. Jimin keeps going, your moaning pleas urging him to go even faster, and he throws his fingers back into the equation. Plunging two fingers into your tight hole and working them at the same fast rhythm as his tongue on your clit.

When your grip on his hair becomes almost too painfully tight, he knows your cumming.

“Shit shit shit shit shit! Ohhhhhhh…!!”

He keeps lapping up every inch of you until he’s sure you’ve ridden out every small inch of your orgasm. Only when your hands fall limply to the bad, does he ease up.

You’re panting, trying to catch your breath as Jimin kisses his way back up your body. He seems just as out of breath as you are, but you can tell that he’s no way near finished with you.

And you would be sourly disappointed if he were.

*

“God you’re so hot!” Jimin breaths, lips hovering above yours, barely touching. He thumbs your lower lip, drawing it down before flicking his tongue across it. Locking his eyes on yours, he holds your gaze as he works his hips between your legs.

Supporting himself on one elbow, he lets the other arm travel behind your body to roughly grab onto your ass cheek, squeezing it tightly as he grinds his pelvis against you, letting his pelvis rub against your still sensitive clit as his cock is nestled deep inside of you.

Lifting, you reach for his mouth, your breast pressing against his sweaty chest. You whimper into his mouth as he slowly begins drawing back his hips and pushing his cock back inside with a hard thrust. He repeats this several times. Each time pushing a little deeper and thrusting a little harder.

Nibbling at your bottom lip, he whispers, “I’m gonna make you cum so hard on my cock.”

“Please!”

“Would you like that?”

“Yes! God yes!”

He forces one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves to sit on his knees, trapping your remaining leg between his. This automatically causes you to roll to your side, changing the position and making him go deeper.

Fisting the sheets, you hold on for dear life as Jimin begins fucking into you at an almost violent pace. He kisses your shin as he uses your leg as leverage to push himself faster and deeper inside of you.

It’s a bruising pace – hard, fast and rough.

“I-I… Jimin!” You hoarsely call out his name as heat washes through your body and the knot in your stomach begins to tighten.

“Shit! Are you gonna cum baby?” His eyes zero in on the way your pussy swallows his cock so desperately, your wall tightening and sucking him in. “Fuck you’re getting so tight!” He whines almost painfully.

You cry out, your orgasm crashing through you like a volcano erupting. Your entire body is convulsing and tingling with the sweet feeling of the release you’ve missed so much. And even when you’re spend and don’t think you can take much more, Jimin keeps going. He fucks you through the waves aftershocks till they subside, and you feel a new knot of fire starting to form.

Your pussy spasms around his cock and it feels like he’s splitting you open. “Oh my fucking god!”

“Fuck! How do you keep getting tighter?!” He throws his head to the ceiling with a deep growl, his fingers digging into your flesh and he slows down to let your both catch your breath.

“Kiss me please,” you manage to stammer out the few words, needing to feel him close to you again.

With your leg still over his shoulder, he leans down on his elbows till he’s able to slot his lips over yours in a sweet kiss. You claim his mouth, your hands cupping his cheeks as your tongue licking its way inside. It’s wet and messy, and Jimin switches his rhythm to match the pace of the kiss. Slowly, he grinds his hips against yours as your mouths make love. It’s a complete switch of mood from what it was mere seconds ago. But none the less, the know forming in the pit of your stomach keeps on growing.

Jimin pick up the pace once again. Frantically, desperately snapping his hips against yours – the sound of your skin slapping together and the squelch of your juices as the pumps in and out, filling the room.

“Fuck,” he breaths and finds your neck, licking a fat stripe from your ear to the juncture between your shoulder and neck. He bits down softly and your face contorts in pleasure, hands scratching down his sweaty back.

You don’t know how he’s able to keep going like this, but you’re not about to tell him to slow down or stop. Not when the tingling feeling of another orgasm starts spreading through your body. But before the feeling can take full flight, Jimin stops to sit up on his haunches, and you whine loudly.

“Noooo!”

He laughs, running a hand through his thick wet locks. “Don’t worry babygirl. I’ve got you.”

And he does. He doesn’t waste a beat and immediately pick up where he left. He spreads your legs wide, his eyes focusing on the way he sinks his cock into your sweet heat, the way you drink up every inch of him. The sight nearly makes him cum on the spot and he has to concentrate real hard not to blow his load inside already. He’s not done with you yet!

Having gone so long without being inside of you, he’s not ready for this to be over!

“Jimin- ah ah ahhhhh- hnnng!” Your back arches off the bed as the crown of his cock rubs against your sweet spot. Jimin responds with his hand on your throat, putting just the right amount of pressure. You can feel your eyes tearing up at the intense amount of pleasure running through your body, he’s everywhere! You can feel him everywhere! And you don’t know how much more you’ll be able to take, feeling spend and used after 2 orgasms already.

“Baby please,” you beg him teary eyed. “Need you to cum!”

Jimin shakes his head, his hair falling over his eyes as determination takes over his features. “Gonna make you cum again!” he rasps, throwing his other hand into the mix as well – using his thumb to draw harsh circles on your clit.

Your hips buck against his touch and the fire in your stomach intensifies to the point of pain. “I-I can’t…” you sob, and you desperately try to find something to grab onto, eventually settling on Jimin’s thighs, your nails digging into his skin. You’re sure that will leave a mark in the morning.

“Yes you can!” Jimin growls, teeth biting into his bottom lip and he begins pounding into your so ruthlessly and desperately. He fucks you so hard and fast, that you’re almost positive that the bed will break.

He squeezes your throat a little harder, making the tears stream down your cheeks – wetting the pillow below you.

“Fucking cum! Cum around my cock baby!” he breathes, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

The slight change in position, has his cock reaching so deep inside of you. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, fingers clawing into Jimin’s back – trying to hold on for dear life as he pounds you to your third orgasm for the night.

“Jimi- fuck…ahhhhhh!” you cry hoarsely, as you cum so hard that spots start dancing in front of your eyes and your breath catches in your throat when Jimin tighten his hold on your throat the slights bit – adding fuel to your already too intense pleasure.

“That’s it,” he grunts, continuing his abuse and fucking you through your orgasm, now chasing his own as well.

“Oh my god, please!”

You’re so desperate to feel him fall apart, to feel him lose control as much as you are. Wrapping yourself around him, you pull him as close as possible, your hands grasping his ass, pushing and pulling him towards you and your hips matching him thrust for thrust.

��Yesssss! Fuck ____, just like that. Just like that,” he chants, and you cry out in relief when you feel his muscles tensing up under your fingers and his cock twitching inside of you as he cums in hot spurts.

He continues to swirl his hips slowly as you both come down from your high. He finds your lips, placing small, sweet pecks of love over and over again as you both try to find your breath.

“That was…” you mumble against his lips.

He cracks a smile, “It was.”

Eventually Jimin stops moving completely, just lying on top of you with his arms caging you in and his hands running lovingly through your sweat soaked hair. You really need a shower before you go to bed. But you stay like that for what feels like an eternity. Just kissing and touching each other. You’re pretty sure you won’t be able to move once you have to get out of bed, your legs feeling completely numb. But at this rate, you’re not even sure you want to get out of bed at all – the way Jimin feels on top of you, his weight pressing you down, the way his cock feels inside of you and his warm cum still filling your-

“Did you come inside of me?” you ask him abruptly, your eyes going as big as saucers.

He looks down to where your bodies are connected, confused for a second. “Did I? I guess I did.”

“Jimin!” You begin to panic, your voice going up an octave. “Fuck! I’m not on the pill!”

Jimin’s entire body stiffens upon hearing your words. “What?!” He still asks, not sure he heard you right.

“I’m not on the pill right now!”

“What? Why? You’ve always been on the pill!” He says, sitting up and pulling out of you. You wince at the slight sting he leaves behind from pounding you so thorough and good.

“Yes, but remember last month when I had my doctor’s appointment because I was having really bad cramps? She told me to stop taking them for a while to see how my body would respond! I clearly remember telling you this and that you needed to wear condoms!”

“WHAT?!” he practically screeches in disbelief, watching as his cum slowly leaks out of your abused entrance. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck, that’s not fucking good!”

[one-sad-human]

•Pinky Promises• Steven Adler

Pairing: Steven Adler x Reader, Axl Rose x Sibling! Reader

Requested? Yup! By an anon

Theme: Angst(?) to fluff

Warnings: Language, sexual references but nothing explicit

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Fic 1 of 2! Hope you enjoy! Also, the makeout near the end gets sorta hot and it was pretty fun to write? Like I’m considering exploring into writing smutter pieces. I didn’t want to originally because I thought I’d cringe all the way through and hate the result but I might try it out in the near future. Nothing too crazy but it’s something for me to think about.

     You step off of the large bus, your combat boots hitting the ground as you adjust the bag slung over your shoulder. It's stuffed to the brim with whatever you threw in, you're surprised the zipper did burst.

     You take a deep breath of the LA air. It's hot and humid and despite the thick air pollution, you can breath easier than you did in Indiana.

     You grew up in Lafayette, Indiana with your older half-brother William. You were raised in the hellish house with your shared father, which you finally managed to escape.

     William left right at eighteen. He tried taking you with him, but you didn't want him to be charged with kidnapping and have the cops on his ass. Now, two years and your father's stolen wallet later, you're finally in the city of dreams.

     "Will!" You yell out, spotting your redheaded other half.

     "Y/N!" He mocks, catching your figure in a crushing hug. He's taller than you, so you have to stand on your tippy toes during the embrace. "Thank God you're alright."

     "I'm fine, I'm happy to finally see you again," you say, a huge grin on your face. "How's the band? Everything going well?"

     "Well enough," he says with a shrug, grabbing your heavy bag and slinging it around his shoulder. "Come on, I'll introduce you to the guys. You already know Izzy of course, but the rest of them."

     The walk to the 'hell house' as Will had called it is filled with catching up. He made sure to keep in contact with you, but the phone calls were always short. It felt nice to have a full length conversation in person with your brother again.

     "Welcome home," Will says, leading you into the house. You grimace when you catch a whiff of stale beer and weed.

     "You seriously live here? This place should be condemned," you say with disgust.

     "And then where would we live?" The oh-so familiar voice of Will's best friend meets your ears. You whip around and fly into his arms.

     "Jeffery! I missed you so much! You really should've tried calling, you ass!" You exclaim. Izzy rolls his eyes but smiles nonetheless, patting your back during the hug.

     "Who's this?" Another man enters the living room— if that's what it should even be called. He's blonde, taller than you but shorter than the other two men in the room. He has kind eyes and the smile he has on his handsome face leaves you speechless.

     "U-uh, hi. I'm Y/N," you say after a moment of shameless gawking. If he noticed, he doesn't mention it.

     "Oh that's right! Axl talks a lot about you! I'm Steven," he says and bounds up to you, catching your hand in a shake. You don't question who the hell 'Axl' is, but you smile stupidly at him and bite your lip with a blush staining your face.

     "No," Will says, glaring at the cute blonde you've taking an immediate liking to. "Absolutely not."

     "William!" You squeak out, pinching his shoulder harsher. He yelps and swats your hand away. Will glares further at you as he ushers you up the creaky stairs to your room. "Nothing happened! And who the fuck is 'Axl'?"

     "I saw how you were looking at him! I'm not naive, Y/N. You were giving him the 'fuck me' eyes! And me, everyone calls me Axl here." You give him a look. "Except you, of course. You can call me Will."

     You don't give him another word as he leads you to your bedroom. He was the one who didn't have a roommate before, and he'd have to share with Slash now but he was determined to give you your privacy.

     "This is the only room with a working lock, use it. Especially when your changing! Three horny men in a house with one you isn't a good combo." You make a face and shake your head, but you can't really tell if he's being overprotective or if his band mates really are pigs.

     "Are you not including Izzy?"

     "Please, he's the only smart one besides me. He knows I'll rip him a new one." You laugh and give Will another hug.

     "I've really missed hanging out with you like this, and thank you for letting me stay here." He nods and rubs your back.

     "No problem, we have each other's backs, always." You nod and release your bother from the hug. "One rule though: no hooking up with the guys. One time thing or not, you don't know them like I do, I won't let you get hurt. So don't even try anything with Steven!"

     "Even if it's nothing sex?" Will levels you with a look that would make you sweat if you were anyone else. You sigh and roll your eyes. "Fine! I promise."

     "Pinky promise?" He asks, holding out his pinky finger. You shake your head but comply anyway, hooking your pinky on his.

     "Wow, bringing out the big guns, pinky promises," you tease.

     "Bitch," he mumbles. You gasp sarcastically.

     "Asshole!" You reply. William takes his leave with another slew of insults under his breath but none to be taken seriously and all with a smile. You shut your door after him and lay on your bed, content with how things are finally beginning to look up.

If you knew where you would be in just a few months of living with your brother and his band, you never would've agreed to the naive promise Will had forced on you. You think back to the day with a frown.

"Whatcha thinkin' about?" Steven asks, pecking your bare shoulder as he lays behind you on your bed. You both lay naked and damp with sweat, glowing from the moonlight streaming in the room.

"William," you say with a sigh.

"We just had sex and your thinking of your brother? Should I be worried about you?" Steven asks teasingly. You fight the smile growing on your face and lightly pinch the his arm tightly wrapped around you. He never fails to make you laugh.

"I just feel bad keeping this a secret from him." You turn around to be face to face with Steven. "It's been months of sneaking around. I'm always nervous we'll get caught together or I'll blurt it out to him."

"Then why don't we just tell him?"

"Do you want to die! Steven, honestly, do you have a death wish?"

"No, but—"

"Then we can't tell my brother we're together. He'll murder you, and then probably me one he finds out how long I've been lying to him," you say and move your head in the crook of Steven's neck.

"Then we can be together in the afterlife!" Steven folds his arms around you even tighter. "Seriously though, we can't lie to him forever. We've been together for six months already, surely he'll see how much we care about each other and not want to kill us."

"Yeah, maybe," you say halfheartedly and close your eyes, finally letting yourself fall asleep.

The next night, Guns has a gig at the Whiskey A-Go Go. The ritual goes like it has been, they play the gig, you wait for Will to get drunk, and you and Steven sneak out to the back of the club to make out and maybe get felt up a bit before returning like nothing happened.

It isn't different this time. Steven's hands leave your skin ablaze as he lets them wander down your sides and up your thighs. His lips don't leave yours, even as he squeezes your ass and you let out a moan. He grins on your mouth and presses his pelvis up to your stomach.

His mouth leaves yours to press feather light kisses to your cheek before trailing down your jaw and onto your neck, where he sucks nips at. You have to press a hand to your mouth to stay quiet.

"Don't leave marks," you remind him through batted breath.

"I won't," he reassures and silences you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips before returning his attack on your neck.

You hear footsteps fast approaching, but as quickly as you hear them, Steven is ripped away from you. He's slammed into the brick wall next to you harshly and groans. You jump away and gasp.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" William asks, his voice lower than usual. His green eyes dark and downright scary.

"Will! Let him go, come on. Stop fucking around, you didn't have to slam him into a wall," you say, but your shaky voice falls on deaf ears as Will doesn't move. Your hands grasp at his arm and try to yank him away from Steven, but he's stronger and taller than you and doesn't budge, he just keeps his eyes focused on Steven.

"Nothing!" He squeaks out. Even in the dark, his kiss bruised lips and flushed red face is obvious.

"'Nothing?' That's why you were ten seconds away from fucking Y/N?" Will asks.

"William stop it! You're scaring me! Leave him alone!" You push him again and this time, he relents. Will paces and runs his hand through his red locks while you rush to make sure Steven is ok.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Steven mutters and presses a kiss to your brow to comfort you, sending you a smile when he pulls away. He keeps his hands on your arms and rubs circles with his thumbs.

"How long has this been going on?" Will asks, crossing his arms as he finally stops his pacing.

"Six months..." Steven says nervously. William scoffs and shakes his head. "But it isn't just fucking around! I love them, Ax. Really."

You smile bashfully, biting your lip to try and contain it. You knew you felt strongly for Steven and that he returned the feelings, but you haven't outright said you loved each other— until know of course.

Will stays silent for a few beats, staring contemplative at Steven. He finally sighs, bring a hand up to rub his temples like he has a building headache.

"Yeah? And you love him, Y/N?" He asks. You nod, reaching out to grab Steven's hand. Steven lets a grin creep on to his face. "Then I guess I can't stop you. But if you ever break their heart, I'll fucking gut you, Adler."

If Will makes Steven nervous, he doesn't show it. He gives him a salute with his puppy dog like smile before sticking out his pinky.

"I promise I'll never hurt Y/N purposely, ever." Will rolls his eyes, the irony makes him nearly groan aloud. He sucks it up anyway when he sees your hopeful expression, hooking his pinky onto Steven's.

"Don't make me regret this, Steven," Will grumbles before leaving and walking back into the crowded club. Steven lets out an exhilarated laugh and kisses you, hard.

"Told you he wouldn't kill me!" Steven exclaims, making you laugh out of surprise.

"And we don't have to sneak around anymore!" Steven kisses you again, and again and again until you're breathless.

"I'm so in love with you," he mumbles between his attack on your lips. You smile, tangling your hands in his aqua-net filled hair.

"As I am with you."

[dragon-kazansky]

Til death do us part | Helmut Zemo

Bodyguard AU! 🕶

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

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Part 8

You have been back in New York a couple of weeks now. You had spent a few days recovering, at the word of Tony Stark, your boss, and then took on a few small jobs. They were jobs that didn't require you for more than few hours.

Standing outside nightclubs, escorting an official to a meeting, being present at an event. Nothing major like protecting a Baron from a group of individuals who wanted him dead.

If you were being quite honest, you were missing that assignment. You were missing him.

These little jobs were starting to feel dull. A part of you wondered if it was because you were worried. How were you suppose to carry on when you knew there were dangerous people out there?

Somehow, you just did.

Then one day things changed. You turned up at the headquarters at Stark's request. Everyone else was still stationed in Sokovia for the time being. You were beginning to miss them.

You check your suit out before entering the office, wanting to look your best for your boss. It always made you feel good to look good when working.

You knock on the door.

"Come in."

You enter the office and close the door behind you. Tony Stark is sitting at his desk. He had just got off the phone as you entered.

"Take a seat."

You sit down.

Tony places a folder in front of you on his desk. He sits back in his chair, links his fingers together, and looks at you.

You look at the folder, then at him.

"Open it."

You pull the folder open slowly and look down at the page in front of you. Now you were just confused. In front of you was a photo of Baron Helmut Zemo. The page looked pretty much the same as fine report you got last time.

You look up at Stark.

"What is this?"

"A job."

"You want me back on the assignment?" You ask, looking at him.

Tony shakes his head slowly.

"Read it."

You look down at the report and read it. The more you read, the more confused you became. The details were vague.

I, Helmut Zemo, request the presence of Y/N L/N at Castle Zemo, Novi Grad, Sokovia, immediately. Please note, they may refuse the invite and remain situated in New York.

He was asking for you.

You look back at Tony Stark. His expression doesn't give anything away as he remains seated in the same position looking at you.

"He is asking for me?"

"Yes."

"He wants me back on the assignment?"

"Maybe. I don't know. All I received was that file and strict instructions to show it to you."

You look back at the file.

"You can refuse."

You look at the Baron's name on the top of the page.

Helmut Zemo.

Was he giving you a second chance because he felt bad? The thought made your heart flutter.

You look up at Stark.

"I'll do it. I'll go."

Tony's expression doesn't change. You can't tell if he's happy about it or not. He just shrugs.

"Alright. I'll organise the flight."

He dismisses you right after that. You take the file and return to your room. So many thoughts are running through your head. Your should still ached, but you were confident you could go back and do the hob again.

You would happily take another bullet for him.

The very next day you were on the plane to Sokovia. Tony Stark saw you off himself and you sent a message ahead to your friends.

You: I'm coming back. The Baron has requested me.

You couldn't wait. You wanted to see them all, assure them you were fine, and most of all, find out why the Baron had sent out an invite like that.

You wanted to see him again.

The photo doesn't do him any justice. To understand just how fine of a man he is, you need to see him with your own eyes. It was incredibly unprofessional of you to be having such thoughts, but you couldn't help it.

The Baron is a very handsome man.

It was late in the day when you arrived. You had sent a message ahead to tell your friends what time you would be landing. Steve had replied to assure you the Baron was sending a car to pick you up.

Apparently, he had wanted to come get you himself, the Baron that is, but was too busy rearranging the meetings he was suppose to attend over the past couple of weeks.

Knowing that information made something within you stir.

The plane lands, you get your suitcase, and you head outside to find a sleek black car waiting for you. Bucky climbs out of the car with Steve and you hug them both, happy to be back.

Bucky takes your suitcase and Steve opens the door for you. You find it funny the way they are treating you.

"I'm not the Baron, you know."

"We know," Steve replies.

He doesn't say any more on the matter and gets back into the drivers seat. Bucky sits in the passenger seat and smiles at you over his shoulder. You get comfortable in the back.

"We are glad to see you back at work," Bucky says, smiling at you again.

"It's good to be back."

"Stark said he sent you on some small jobs."

"Yeah. They felt rather dull compared to what we have been through," you laugh softly.

"We've missed you," Steve says.

You smile.

"The Baron has missed you too," Bucky tells you.

You furrow your brow at him.

"He has?"

Bucky nods.

The Baron must really feel bad for the way he was with you. Everything indicates he was sorry. From him getting out of the car to check on you when you had been shot, to visiting you in the hospital, and now inviting you back to his estate.

You felt rather giddy.

The car pulls up the familiar drive with the bare garden and comes to a stop. Steve stops you from getting out on your own and opens your door for you.

You just roll your eyes.

Bucky grabs your suitcase and the two of them lead the way inside. They takes you up to Zemo's office, where Bucky then parts ways with you and leaves you with Steve.

Steve knocks on the door.

"Enter."

Steve opens the door and steps inside first. He steps off to the side and let's you enter after him.

"Y/N has arrived, sir."

Helmut looks up from the file he had been reading rather quickly. He stares at you.

Just as stunning as he remembered you.

"Leave us."

Steve nods and closes the door behind him.

Helmut stands up from his desk and gestures to the chair opposite him. You walk over and take a seat, looking at him.

He hasn't looked away once since you entered.

"I'm glad to see you have recovered," he says, starting off.

"Yes, it took some time, but I'm alright. Thank you for inviting back onto the assignment, sir."

He had discovered just how much he hated hearing you call him that. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips, but even when he had requested it last time, you had said no.

"It is my pleasure, though I haven't officially put you back onto the team yet. I have a proposal for you," he says, sitting back down.

"Oh?"

Helmut pulls out a couple of pieces of paper that been stapled together. He sets them down in front of you and gestures to them.

You could tell it was a contract.

You pick them up and look at them. Silence settles over you both as you read.

He waits with bated breath.

When you have read the terms you look back up at him with a confused glint in your eye.

"This contract..."

"Yes."

"You want me to be your personal bodyguard?"

"Yes."

"To leave Stark Industries and work for you?"

"Yes."

You look at the contract again. He was asking for your employment, not just hiring you from your current status, but to be his personal bodyguard.

"You can refuse and I'll have you sent home immediately."

Though he didn't want that. He wanted you to stay. He knew, after that day, that in tour hands his life was safe. He also knew that deep down he didn't want to be parted from you.

Zemo didn't want to call it a crush, but there was definitely something brewing. He liked you, he really did. It was more than just a crush for him. He wanted to know you and he didn't know any other way to get that other than employ you.

You would be living here, working here, every day.

"The contract would be effective immediately," he tells you.

"What about Stark? He would have to know."

"Well, of course. Would you rather phone him before making a decision?" He offers you the phone sitting on the desk.

"May I?"

"Please."

You set the contract down and pick up the phone.

Helmut sits back in his chair and waits, watching and listening. His heart was hammering away in his chest.

The conversation over the phone is short. You glance up at him several times, agreeing a lot to whatever Stark was saying down the phone. Helmut tried his best not to let it show just how eager he was to hear what was happening.

You agree once more before hanging up the phone.

You look at Zemo.

He sits up straighter in his chair, looking at you with curious brown eyes.

You smile.

God, your smile was a beautiful sight, and you were smiling at him!

"Do you have a pen?" You ask.

That wasn't quite what he was expecting to hear, but he nods and takes a pen from his desk, handing it over to you. You take it from his hand, your fingers brushing against his. You didn't seem to notice, be he did.

He lowers his hand slowly as he watches you sign the contract.

Rather uncharacteristically he wanted to jump from his seat, smiling and cheering, but resists. You have no idea how happy you had just made him.

He remains composed.

You put the pen down and slide the contract back over to him, smiling.

"It's my pleasure to be your bodyguard, sir. I am glad to know you have faith in my skills to do such a job."

He smiles.

Helmut holds his hands out and you take it, shaking it firmly.

He was holding your hand. His heart was having a rave.

You let go.

He feels the loss immediately. Your hand fit so perfectly in his, he felt it belonged in his grasp.

Why am I thinking about you like this?

You stand up and straighten your tie.

"Permission to go get settled before I officially start working?" You ask.

"Permission granted. I shall see you later." He had no idea how he had kept his voice so calm.

You nod and take your leave.

Once the door closes behind you, Helmut drips his face into his hands and leans against his desk using his elbows.

You worked for him now.

He would see you every day.

Every day he would have to pretend he was falling for your charm. You had no idea the affect you had on this man and it was driving him crazy.

Would he be feeling this way if you hadn't saved his life? He had no idea.

All he did know was that he was over the moon you had taken the job.

If he could help it, he would keep you out of harm's way. That might be difficult considering the circumstances, but he never wanted to see you hurt like that again.

He still saw it in his nightmares.

You made your way to your given room. You would be staying here from now on. You would make it your own in due time.

You sat on the bed and smiled.

His own personal bodyguard. You had more than proved your worth.

You were proud of yourself.

Thank you, Baron.

You just had just break it to your friends. Speaking of, Bucky was standing in your doorway looking at you.

"What's on your mind?" He asks, smiling softly.

"Something happened."

For a moment he looks concerned and enters your room.

"What happened?"

You smile as you look at him.

"He hired me."

"I figured he would, that's why he invited you back, right?"

"No, he hired me. I work for him now. I signed his contract. I'm the personal bodyguard of Baron Zemo."

Bucky stands in silence for a moment. You can see him trying to work it out in his mind.

"He hired you as his personal guard?"

"Yes."

Bucky smiles.

"The man is so in love with you, oh my god!"

You stare at him wide eyed.

"He is not!"

"He definitely is," Bucky grins.

"Is not! It just means I proved myself. He doubted me and I showed him I could do it. Feel proud for me."

He smiles softly.

"I am proud, but I'm also not joking. I think he likes you. Zemo missed you while you were gone, and he had been cold and mean after finding out you had been sent home."

You shake your head softly.

"Coincidence. He had been attacked, he has every right to be cold and mean again."

"Y/N, listen to me. He missed you."

You shake your head again and stand up.

"You're delusional. He just trusts me. This does mean we are only colleagues while you're here."

Bucky sighs softly.

"That's a shame, but I'm proud of you. This is a big deal."

"Yeah, it is."

Bucky hugs you before making his leave. He was going to let Steve know about what happened.

You let him go.

You're not sure why, but you had an inkling things were about to change. Something was going to happen and you were going to be happy.

Perhaps it was because you were starting a new chapter of your life here in Sokovia.

Bodyguard to the Baron, what an honour!

@thesuitkovian @justfangirlthingies @belle82devart @zemosimp420 @anteroom-of-death @silverlambcaptain @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @lieutenantn @daniielbruhl @awesomesauce-abbie @latenightartist-author @lazygurl05 @rumblelibrary @nonamec0s @shura-gorl @ginger-abreu @caligrl1992 @livvyshmiv @luciadiosa @vverliebt @tatooineisdry @charistory @somethingthatsaysbubbles @apparrio @alex-the-nb @thewrongkhristol @hb8301 @the-chaotic-cow @mssennimatilda

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 4

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

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Chapter 4

1997 (One year later)

The convention center had been beautiful under the blue Minnesota sky when Liam had arrived, and it was still beautiful now with its windows backed by heavy showers of falling snow that threw diffuse, moving light onto the walls inside the conference room. Beautiful and alarming.

Liam’s university was located in Florida. Florida was quite nice in January, and besides, there were theme parks. Didn’t people always like theme parks? But instead, the conference was being held in Minnesota, and this was the final day. In an hour, Liam and his colleagues, other faculty of the history department, were supposed to start the twenty-some-hour drive home.

“Could have been at Disney World,” Kurt remarked, startling Liam. Liam had been too busy watching the storm to realize Kurt had come up beside him.

“What on earth?” Liam asked, quite rightfully surprised, not by Kurt’s sudden unexpected presence, as he was used to that by now, but because Kurt was not a history professor, and therefore didn’t have a reason to be at the conference.

“Thought I’d drop in,” Kurt said. “See how things were going. Anyone interested in your research on Tollense?”

“Everyone. It’s very exciting.” Liam kept his voice low. “Am I talking to myself, or can everyone else see you?”

Kurt smiled at him. “I wouldn’t give you that kind of reputation. I’m visible.” Liam could see it was true, as Kurt’s good looks were attracting a few appreciative glances. “Are you ready to come home?” Kurt asked.

“Yes, we’re due to head out soon. Not that we’re really looking forward to it.”

“Well, your co-workers can head out whenever they like. I’m taking you home.”

“What?”

Kurt looked surprised by Liam’s surprise. “You’re from Florida. You have no idea what to do with snow. They’re pulling locals off the roads, Liam. I'm not letting you drive in this weather.”

“But you don’t even know how to dr— wait.” Liam felt a bit of a shiver crawl up his spine. “Oh, no. I’m not teleporting home.”

“I’ve been doing it for thousands of years. With humans. You know that. It’s perfectly safe.”

“No.”

Now a bit of hurt flashed over Kurt’s features, and like all his dark expressions, it was vaguely unsettling. “You don’t trust me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I just don’t want to teleport.”

“Why on earth not?”

Liam hated to lie to Kurt. Partly, it was because Liam was not entirely sure that Kurt couldn’t somehow tell that he was lying. Kurt claimed that he couldn’t read minds, but he was a vampire who could teleport himself from Florida to Minnesota, and Liam would not have been at all surprised to find that Kurt was aware of the snowstorm confronting Liam without having checked the weather.

But it was also true that Kurt was Liam’s best friend and it seemed wrong to lie to him. Except Liam couldn’t tell him the truth about this, because that wasn’t going to help anyone. It was better if Kurt didn’t know that Liam was in love with him, that for over a year now, Liam had been obsessed with the memory of Kurt kissing him, slow and sweet, and that the last thing Liam needed now was for Kurt to pull him close and show off his impressive supernatural abilities in a rescue. Kurt had made it clear that he never allowed himself to fall in love with humans that he met, and Liam had to be protective of his heart, already cracked and in danger of breaking.

“Look, if you are so dead-set on it, you can use your mind-control powers to convince me,” Liam joked, and immediately realized that was worse than lying, because Kurt flinched.

“If I do that,” Kurt said, in what sounded like a carefully controlled voice, “I will lose you anyway.”

“Wh— you’re not going to lose me. I’ll get a hotel, then. Drive home later.”

“I don’t want you driving to a hotel!” Kurt looked exasperated. “Liam, you are the most adventurous person I know. Why not this?”

“Oh, I’m hardly—”

“Yes, you are. You’re like an explorer, always hungry for something new and unusual. You’re brave, and not terribly cautious, which is bad for your driving habits, but it’s perfectly safe when it comes to me, because I am never going to let anything happen to you.”

Kurt had stepped close, and Liam could tell how upset Kurt was because Kurt was losing his grip on the human appearance and mannerisms he tried to put on. Right now he looked sleek and strong and shadowy. He didn’t reach for Liam with his hands, but Liam could feel something surrounding him, like a faint cool mist. It felt oddly familiar, and Liam got the impression that the mist might actually always be there, a piece of Kurt holding onto him, and Liam had just never been consciously aware of it before.

And then everything suddenly snapped back into place: Kurt looked ordinary again, and Liam realized with a shock that a couple of his colleagues had approached them.

“What do you think?” asked one of them. “We’re talking about getting a hotel.”

“I have a ride home,” Liam said faintly. Everyone looked at him in surprise, including Kurt. Few of Liam’s fellow faculty had met Kurt, partly by Kurt’s design, because he wasn’t terribly social, and partly by Liam’s. Liam was aware that his very close friendship with a very handsome man was likely to give him a certain other reputation, one that was quite deserved (though sadly not much practiced), but not very wise in the current political climate.

Nothing for it now. “Chris Mullens, Doris Sullivan, this is my friend Kurt, ah, Smith. He was in town for something else and is heading back to Florida today. He offered me a ride.”

“Is it safe?” Doris asked, looking concerned.

“Kurt’s a very good driver. Got a— a car like a tank.”

Doris laid a hand on Liam’s shoulder, and to Liam’s surprise, Kurt seemed to bristle at that, almost literally, and the whole room seemed to go with him, the air around them feeling oddly sharp. Liam understood that Kurt was concerned that he’d change his mind and be convinced to travel with his colleagues, but it undoubtedly looked like something else from the outside— a sort of possessiveness.

“What a nice friend,” Chris said lightly, looking at Kurt in a way that Liam did not like at all, as if Kurt was not a person but a problem, not a good-looking man but a tempting trap. Liam’s personal belief was that men who were so vehemently opposed to homosexuality were probably terrified that they themselves might be vulnerable to such a “trap,” but it was better if that went unsaid.

Kurt rescued him, of course. “Yes, Liam and I have been friends for a while. I used to date one of his students, Martina.”

Chris’s face cleared a bit, losing some of its distaste. He had apparently not heard of bisexuality, or whatever word might describe Kurt. “Oh. Sure.”

“Ready to go?” Kurt asked Liam. He barely waited for an answer before steering Liam out of the room. They walked down an empty hallway where the storm winds were pushing hard enough to make the windows shift in their frames. Kurt spoke in a gentle voice. “Give it a few years. The world is becoming more tolerant again. Humans keep discovering their natures over and over.”

“This must all be very trite to you.”

“Not in the least.” Kurt’s eyes were sharp on him. “Do you think Chris is the one sending you those threatening letters?”

Liam scoffed. “He barely knows how to tie his shoes. Worse than even the typical history professor.”

Kurt looked unconvinced. “I’ll keep an eye on him all the same.” He held out a hand to Liam. “Let’s go home.”

Liam looked down at Kurt’s hand. A pale blue vein ran delicately along his wrist, and Liam wondered what flowed there, if anything. “What about my luggage?”

“I already picked it up from Dr. Sullivan’s car. It’s at your place.”

“You’re awfully confident that I’d say yes to this.”

Kurt sighed, exasperated. “I can’t believe you haven’t asked me sooner. I thought I’d be taking you to the Louvre every weekend. Or Rome. At least Antietam.”

Liam laughed. “I should have.”

Kurt smiled, looking at ease for the first time since he’d arrived. “You should.”

“Next weekend then.” Liam finally took Kurt’s hand, and their fingers fit together easily. As always, Kurt was slightly cool to the touch.

The convention center faded away into a sort of bland white light. Liam felt like he was floating, but still with his feet planted on the ground. He looked down and found his own office floor beneath his shoes.

“Stay still a moment,” Kurt warned. “People can get dizzy when they’re not used to it.” He dropped Liam’s grasp and put a steadying hand on his arm instead. And now was the moment Liam had dreaded: Kurt was so close, so strong, and so hauntingly strange.

“We must seem so very fragile to you,” Liam said.

“You are fragile.” There was a harsh coldness in Kurt’s voice.

“So how did you learn to do that? To teleport?”

Kurt shrugged. “Just always could.”

“Always?” Liam frowned. “I thought a vampire’s abilities were based on age.”

“They are.”

“But if you’ve been doing it as long as you can remember— since at least Tollense— doesn’t it follow then that your origins would have to be a great deal older than that?”

Kurt narrowed his eyes, considering.

“Or else,” Liam said, “maybe you’re not a vampire.”

“I drink blood.”

“A lot of creatures— uh, beings— are said to drink blood. I’m sorry, it must be so frustrating not to be able to remember.”

Kurt looked at him with a sort of gratitude, but then he turned away, toward the door. A second later, there was a knock, and Kurt finally let go of Liam’s arm.

It was one of Liam’s graduate students at the door, Jonah. “Hey,” he said. “Hope I’m not interrupting anything. Just have a couple of questions. I thought I heard you talking. Do you have company?”

Most of the students never met Kurt either, despite the fact that he was around quite a bit. Liam had learned by now that Kurt only appeared to those students he thought he might start a relationship with. Kurt had been alone since Martina had graduated, and Liam assumed it would only be a matter of time before he picked another student, someone to provide him with blood and share his bed. In between lovers, Kurt drank blood from animals, but he had told Liam that it was much better to have a human source. Kurt chose those people whom he thought would be open to the idea of a finite relationship with a vampire, those who wouldn’t be afraid of him but also wouldn’t want to stay with him indefinitely. Because Kurt never got attached.

“Let’s find out,” Liam said, and opened the door wider. His heart sank immediately when he saw that Jonah could see Kurt standing by the desk. Liam thought back for a moment to Kurt’s reaction when Doris put her hand on Liam’s arm. But Kurt wouldn’t get jealous, of course.

Liam definitely was.

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My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

[furblrwurblr]

I had to adress the trauma before they kissed

Part three to Patience, Love!

Douxie x Reader Soulmate AU, fluff, angst. crack if you squint.

《One》 《Two》 | Masterlist

You'd had a few days of unfamiliar band after unfamiliar band and were glad for a taste of home when Papa Skull was up on the itinerary. You two slept in as you had for the past week and had an instant noodle breakfast (the good kind, none of that Maruchan crap Douxie's addicted to) before hitting the town. Dancing, walking, and browsing the streets with their little shops was a fun way to spend the afternoon before you made your way to the venue. You noticed Douxie was being… a little bit more. A little closer, a little softer, a little jittery. You'd had a mind to ask him but he interrupted you every time he saw your curiosity scratching itself on his forearms, running off looking over his shoulder for you to follow. At some point, he'd asked to split up, absolutely not because he wanted to find something for you, or so he said. You spent the whole time he was gone absently searching for something in return, preoccupied with the thoughts on your arms and legs that were just so very Douxie.

"Oh! That's nice! No, no no no, this is your soulmate! Nice isn't great, it's between good and okay. Or would it be between good and alright? Which trumps the other? Blast it all, this store isn't helping," or "This store isn't at ALL what I thought it was... No! Don't think about that, if they see that on their arm I'll be the impatient one!"

You told him where you were after he seemed somewhat satisfied. He walked towards you, the grin on his face falling into a betrayed look of feigned shock as he watched you taking pictures of all the thoughts he'd forgotten you could see. He groaned as he sat beside you on a park bench, seeing just how much you'd read.

"Did I give it away already?"

"All I know is it's somewhere between great and good, or is alright the better word?" you teased.

He bumped your shoulder with his. "Cheeky," he smiled. "Let's head back to the campsite, eat a quick meal, and grab a good spot!"

After a light dinner, you'd managed to squeeze your way fairly close to the front, far enough from the stage to risk being squished. You'd been there a few hours when Papa Skull finally made their appearance, you and Douxie amongst the loudest welcoming them onstage. Not long into their hit song, "Mean", Douxie was nervous.

"I’m gonna do it. I don’t want them to spook..."

You glimpsed his concern on your forearm, unable to make much out in your excitement for the live music, but you knew he was working up to something. You let it be, curious to see what he'd do.

Douxie slowed his breathing. He really liked you so far, and although your mind was quick to dive into the gutter, he didn't want to scare you off. Your own mishap ended in him seeing you once before ghosting for nearly a month. Not to mention, he could tell how embarrassed his little experiments on the boat had made you, what with the whispering and all. It may have been a different kind of embarrassed, more flustered than mortified, but you'd never spoken out against anything. He didn't have a clear grasp of your boundaries. While he'd been searching for a gift for you, he'd wondered how he was going to give it to you. He settled for another first- nothing big, it was pretty cliché, but he enjoyed doing it and hoped you would too.

Douxie placed a hand on your upper arm to make sure you wouldn't startle, it was a bit difficult to get your attention. He slid his arm behind your back, looking to you for confirmation. Your nod made him sigh in relief as he planted his hand on the outside of your shoulder. He felt you laugh and nearly withdrew before you grabbed his hand and pulled so his arm draped over your shoulders, placing your other hand across his back and gently curling your fingers into his waist. You two shared a tender moment of silence before half-turning your attention back to the concert, both too caught up in each other to be in the moment.

He fingered the large box in his sweater pocket, withdrawing his hand. It could wait, he didn't want to risk you moving to look at it, and Mordrax forbid you take your warm hand from his side before he was ready.

Later, you both fell into your sleeping bags with a mighty puff of the air rushing out under the sudden weights, both heaving great sighs of relief. You looked over to him in silence, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. His head turned quickly, smiling wide. Laughter built between you until the pair of you were wiping tears from your eyes, still feeling the euphoria from the concert and one another. Once you relaxed again, Douxie got up and beckoned for you to do the same. You looked at him quizzically.

"If I know I'm hungry then you must be too, I eat less often than you," he reasoned.

Reluctantly, you got up, sad to leave your plush dollar-store sleeping bag. Douxie started the fire while you zipped the tent to swap your themed tour outfit for something more comfortable.

Douxie rustled through the bags back on the ship, pulling out leftovers from the diner in town. He made his way back to the now-blazing fire, sitting on a log to prepare the meal. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the glow of the lantern in the tent--

blimey, was the tent always that sheer? It was night and the lantern made it far too easy to see your silhouette. "Woah, looking away now!" Ah, he saw how appropriate the word "blimey" was in this case. While he did enjoy what he saw, part of him did want God to blind himself because he was 90% sure he'd just watched you remove your top without your knowledge. "God, I tease them constantly, but I'm just as bad, aren't I?" he realized. He quickly went back to warming the food, hands rushed and face pink.

You watched his fault write itself on your torso, cheeks just as flushed, although with a bit more amusement than he was feeling at the moment. You finished and stepped out, a smug look on your face. Wordlessly, you sat next to him, studying his reaction. He avoided your eyes, recognizing the glint they had when his thoughts betrayed him. You slid off the log, reclining against it and making a show of placing your arms behind your head.

"I guess I can't really complain, you are making me dinner first, as per your own terms," you said, nonchalant.

Douxie cursed himself. "How could I have been so bold?" he lamented with a sheepish smile. Time to change the subject. He looked around, searching for anything to talk about, settling on the flames that reminded him of the familiar he missed oh so much. He broke the comfortable silence and turned to you. "Would you like me to show you something?" The nondescript watch on his wrist extended, magical glamour falling to reveal his brace, now glowing with energy.

You nodded eagerly. His magic was comforting and beautiful, just like he was… wait. Why not mess with him a bit?

"One condition."

He withdrew his hands from their position in front of him, face earnest.

"Take off your sweater. I've seen your tattoos under your short sleeves, and I know they glow, wonderboy," you half-demanded. Payback and your own reward in one? You deserved to be a little stern.

He laughed, shrugging off his sweater before putting his hands at the ready once more. With a smile, he pushed and pulled the bonfire from where he sat beside you, flames turning his signature blue the more he manipulated them. It was beautiful, drowning the verdant green of the forest in a blue that belonged only to your soulmate. Douxie reveled in your amazement, fire magic a new experience for a novice such as yourself.

You turned your attention to his tattoos and your lips parted in wonder. You'd never seen them in full, runes you couldn't recognize glowing a vibrant blue. The swooping lines didn't move, but it seemed the light shining through them did, glow rippling below his skin. You slid back onto the log again, closer this time, and brushed your fingers over them. Douxie let the fire swirl to its original shape, goosebumps raising at your feather-light touch. They dimmed, once again their original grey, but you persisted, enthralled by the runes.

Douxie had never loved someone so much. Sure, you'd only known each other a few months, but he felt justified since you were his soulmate. As much as he still couldn't believe he'd met you after all that time, he was more amazed at how often it proved true that you were made to fit one another. Your humor, your joys, your sadness. It made itself apparent in how you walked towards him, the way you smiled when he called you. The comfort in your voice that he could feel through the phone. Your eyes. Oh, your eyes, how they did things to his heart.

He pulled himself from his thoughts, eyes roving over your body intently, latching onto any exposed skin. He was looking in pride at his thoughts of admiration, feeling almost as if they marked you as his. "A reminder," he thought, that right now, you belonged to one another. He brought his gaze back to those eyes of yours, now studying his face. The two of you looked at one another in silence, watching one another's eyes flick down and back again, faces drawing closer. His tongue darted out to moisten his slightly chapped lip, causing your breath to hitch. His heart jumped at the sound, snapping him from his daze. He gently lifted your hand from his bicep, shakily breathing the same air as you. He folded your fingers into his chill grasp, bringing them to his lips and pressing a long kiss to your knuckles before bowing his head to press your hand to his brow. You smiled, heart beating from your chest, then grabbed his sweater from between you two with your free hand and sliding it up to his back and over a shoulder. He slowly released your hand with a small chuckle, twirling the garment from his shoulders and placing it on your own. His hands dragged down to the beginning of the zipper and tugged it forward to secure it on your body, pulling you just that much closer. He lingered, smiling gently at you. This. This was a moment he hoped would never end.

His long fingers withdrew to finally warm the food, the 'almost' of what had just happened filling the comfortable silence of the forest clearing.

It'd been a few days since the Almost (your affectionate lament for the kiss that nearly was), and the tour was nearly over. Only a few days were left and you weren't ready for it to end. Maybe after this you and Douxie could spend more time at one another's flats, just to have each other around. Your home was your sanctuary, and you were already fully prepared to open it to him. You trusted him and were happy you'd ironed out your initial issues. For the most part, that is.

"What's this, Y/N?" Douxie asked. You were taken from your thoughts by his sudden question and gave him a puzzled look. He gestured to the 'trust issue' statement written boldly across his bare shoulder before going to sit next to you, the distance between you feeling like an emotional chasm. He used to sit closer before the Almost. "Is something the matter? Did I do something to make you cross?" His face was less puzzled now and more anxious.

"Well," you began, "It's nothing recent. Maybe it is? I keep dwelling on the past, and I feel I need to bring it up."

"Go for it, darling, anything you need," he rushed, turning his entire body to face you.

"I've been running most of my life, as is the curse of an immortal, but I’ve spent the last sixteen years of it searching for you. I kept asking you questions, trying to find you. As amusing as it was to play cat and mouse, I felt displaced and restless. Friends came and went, I scoured America in its entirety. A hint, a clue, something!" You rushed, breathing ragged. "Arcadia was my resignation, you know," you continued, quieter now. "I've stayed as long as I have because I gave up, too tired to keep running towards something, no matter how much I wanted it. No matter how much I wanted you, I--" your eyes filled with tears and you paused, choking on a sob. You sucked in a breath. He needed to hear this. *You* needed him to hear this. "It hurt when I realized you didn't remember our fleeting moments together in combat. I enjoyed sharing that moment of revealing ourselves to one another, but it hurts that I've chased that beautiful blue for the past eight centuries and you don't remember those two years of patrolling the canals.”

Douxie placed a hesitant hand on the small of your back and his eyes dropped from your face to the forest floor, remembering why he'd been so excited to meet you. He'd seen your reactions to his thoughts back in Italy but quickly had to move on. He and Archie had decided long ago that no matter what, they'd put Merlin's tasks above anything else. Even his soulmate. When he realized how close you were he got excited. He couldn't search for you, but he didn't see anything wrong if you found him first. Even then, he kept you at arm's length, scared of the consequences. Merlin's tower, how could he have been so thoughtless? Douxie had never stopped to consider how his constant moving around would affect you. He never took the concepts of soulmates all that seriously. Sure, he could daydream about being with someone made for him and refuse to date anyone until he met you, but it became real the night he found you. Too real. So he ran. Dancing around you, pretending he was doing you a favor with his vague answers and puzzling riddles. Then, he met you again. You were real once more. After his comical encounter with you, he was too preoccupied to sleep, absorbing the finality of having a soulmate. You had come into his life with a bang, a reminder that Merlin and his tasks didn't define who he was. What had shaped him were small influences of the people he'd met throughout the last millennium, including you.

You were worried. Douxie's brow was more creased than you'd ever seen it. His hand on your back grew clammy, the cold night air quickly cooling the fresh damp patch of your shirt.

"...Douxie?" you whispered, afraid your rant had gone too far. His head turned just a little too quickly and you gasped at the tears glistening in the moonlight. He choked on a few unsteady breaths, mouth half-forming words. You reached your hand for the bicep of the arm loosely wrapped around your waist, but before you could touch it, he spoke.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, drawing his hand away from your torso. The first of many large tears burst upon the wood of the log you sat upon. Whose tears they were no longer mattered when both of you began crying anew. You wrapped your fingers around the arm he removed from your side and placed it there once more, throwing your arms around his middle. He sobbed at this, heart happy that you still accepted him, and brought his other hand to clutch your head to his collarbone. He wasn't running anymore, he'd done what was asked of him and was finally able to let you catch up to him.

The two of you were too caught up in one another to notice but had either of you been paying attention, you would have seen each other's skin being adorned with countless words of adoration, regret, and joy.

[ginkgomoon]

Lucien's Iridescent- Analysis

Finally, some more Lucien-based content! I'm so sorry for the wait, Lucien stans! If you’re out there please let me know so I can say hello to you individually and ask questions about your fav!! I want to interact with the community more so I can expand my knowledge and perception on the different characters and aspects of the game. I’d honestly love to have a chat about MLQC anytime! I didn’t expect to be posting this today because this is one is a freshie! (Started working on it today, and posted up today, unlike the other hundred that I have drafted...) Lots of spoilers for the character of Lucien and for future content. Please do not read if you don’t want spoilers! Thank you! Hope you enjoy!! 🌈 💜

Iridescent definition-

“Showing luminous colours that seem to change when seen from different angles.”

Origins

The pen is originally brought over from England, where Lucien was studying when he was younger. It actually belonged to a Granny before Lucien, and she told him, "give this luck to the special someone when you meet her."

Lucien didn't really care for the pen that much other than that, though.

"Although I had always felt that he was not gentle with me, this time I knew he did care for me. My joy didn't last for more than ten seconds, when my owner took me back and gave me a faint glance, and then gave his full attention the girl."

Also, it's tiny bit ironic about how Lucien can't see colour and names the pen "Iridescent".

"A rainbow! It's my favourite scene- that's where my name came from. But my owner can't see the rainbow. he doesn't know how to appreciate these colours." -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

Iridescent and MC

“This is for you."

A silvery- white steel pen glinted in the sunlight with an "X" etched prominently into its surface. (The "X" refers to his Chinese name, "Xu mo")

MC: "Isn't this the pen you left in the set the first time you were on the show?"

"Yes, at the time I rushed back to the set. Everyone had left but one girl was still foolishly sitting there, just to give me this pen. For the first time I thought, compared to my own actions of running back there, she didn't seem that foolish at all."

His lips curved up in a smile, and his eyes softened.

"It wasn't foolish. I was slower than you, but afterwards, I saw."

I didn't understand what he meant. I tilted my head and looked at Lucien. His eyes were streaked with shadow and light by the sunshine.

MC: "Why are you giving me the pen?"

"The pen has a name. It's called Iridescent. It's a lucky charm that's been with me for many years. Now, this luck belongs to you."

Lucien opened my hand and placed the pen in it, then closed my hand back over it with an assertive force.

"It's just a pen. Take it."

Lucien turned his head and looked at me, the sunlight glistening on his lips, clear and warm. -Chapter 13-10

Lucien gave a lot of thought into giving MC the pen.

"He had been staring at me for so long his gaze almost penetrated me! My owner had always been very decisive and unwavering, but this time, I could feel his hesitation. What was it for?"

But why?

"At the moment I was a little dizzy, and thought, am I now a "love token"?" -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

I would argue multiple reasons actually. Firstly, as Iridescent itself stated, it was used as a "love exchange"- a silent confession that he loves her. He uses this pen for his work, and since this "work" was focused on the QUEEN and BLACK SWAN, it was almost like a declaration that what Lucien had owned- what Ares will soon gain, that no matter what, both personas would be by her side.

He knows that she's always in danger, from others and from himself, so he silently hopes that this pen in becoming that "lucky charm" would also help her so that she wouldn't really get caught and tied up in BLACK SWAN business.

It serves as a reminder for himself too, that a part of him will always be kept close to her. And like how its name is Iridescent, that aspect of him that can see colour is being surrendered back to her, because only with MC, can Lucien finally witness colours of the rainbow.

But of course, like all rainbows, they don't last forever, and MC uses this pen- in the name of colour- his weaknesses and the symbolism and connection of their relationship- against him.

MC: “Why?”

“I warned you before. You still had time to run too bad, you had no awareness of danger. Or one could say, you trusted me too much.”

He spoke in a tone that was provocative and mocking.

With ease, he ripped open a scar that hadn’t fully healed, and my tears came pouring out.

I don’t know why, but in that instant, I seemed to see a flash of sorrow in his eyes. But in less than half a second, he had resumed his composure. Then he pursed his lips and made a faint smile.

Thick blackness surrounded him. Even the brightest of setting suns couldn’t reach him.

But I still hoped that the hint of sorrow I caught was real. I hoped that he was still the way he used to pretend to be. But then why did his eyes seem so sincere?

Even now, I wasn’t willing to completely believe. My heart told me that it wasn’t lies.

Helping me save my final show was real. Rescuing me from danger was real. Every bit of encouragement and help was all real.

If all of that was real, how could the person in front of me now be fake?

I strained to find in his eyes any sign of pain, struggle, even a moment’s hesitation. But there was none.

There was nothing at all. We were like two strangers.

“Ares, what are you waiting for?”

I don’t know where my strength came from, but in an instant, I held something sharp to my neck. I tremblingly held the pen, sensing the bitter taste in my throat.

Seeing my action, everyone froze.

How ironic! He clearly gave it to me as a gift, and now it was carrying out its mission like this.

“You won’t do it.”

My neck was in terrible pain, and half my body was going numb.

I didn’t even realise that a trickle of blood was streaming down my neck. We stood there, neither of us was moving.

“Don’t do anything foolish.”

You’re right, I am too foolish. When I was at my lowest, he held out a hand of friendship to me and I took it in with full trust.

And now here he was again, saying that same voice I was so familiar with, that was all a trap.

He stood there, aloof and cold, with all those emotions swirling in his eyes that I never understood before. Now I final understand. It was the thrill of laying a trap and the joy of watching your prey take the bait.

MC: “Let me go.”

“You think you can negotiate with me?”

MC: “You still owe me a thank you gift.”

A tear rolled down my face silently. (This line killed me.)

He smiled mockingly.

“I can let you go, but next time, you won’t get such an opportunity. Don’t let me catch you next time.” (In other words he means, "pen you did well, now she can escape.")

MC: “Next time I won’t trust you, Ares. I will never trust you again. Because you aren’t Lucien. He would never harm me. They have nothing to do with each other!”

He turned but said nothing. That was the last time I saw a gentle look in his eye. Then he looked up at the sky as his whole body emerged into the shadows, and he continued onwards.

The pen fell from my hand onto the ground. The “X” etched onto it gleaming, seemingly telling me a story. -Chapter 13-19

"I saw the pain in my owners eyes and felt the trembling of the girl's right hand passing through me... grasping me as she left, she could not control her shaking body. She seemed to be holding onto me with all her strength, as if I was her only support.

I was accidentally dropped to the ground and rolling into the dust. but the girl didn't seem to notice, as she was in a trance looking up at the kites in the sky. But the girl crouched down to pick me up and gently wiped the dust off of me. Everyday at nightfall, I knew how much pain she endured and how much she cried in her sleep. I thought she would abandon me, but she did not... -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

n a way, it's also a silent promise, or a reason for him to keep returning to her. The tie that she always clutches secretly in her pocket that she, too, still cares for him and still thinks of him. MC still evens put the effort in the take care of Iridescent, making sure it doesn't get lost or broken. This is similar to how the ginkgo bracelet is a form of support from Gavin to MC.

As I put away my camera, I again reflexively felt around inside-

MC: “Oh no!”

A ball of sweat fell from my forehead. Where was that pen!?

A single possibility suddenly presented itself to me- but another thought immediately supplanted it-

MC: “It’s his anyway. The staff will give it back to him…”

Having confidently convinced myself with that reasoning, I left.

See how they're back to how they were from the beginning- where she was starting to get to know “Lucien”, but now she’s starting to view him as “Ares”. The two personas correlating to this one pen.

I banged my head on the table. I clutched my head in pain, and the metal pen rolled away, stopping before a pair of black shoes. Then I saw a slender hand daintily pick it up.

“You came back to find this?”

He looked at me with a playful look on his face. He raised his eyebrows and held the pen in front.

“Don’t lose it again.”

I reached out for it, but that sunny late spring day suddenly flashed before my eyes, and I started to regain my posture. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back for it.

MC: “Never mind, I’m always losing things. And it doesn’t belong to me anyway. At this point, it should go back to its original owner.”

He slowly and deliberately put the pen away, then gave as light nod. -Chapter 16-11

"With determination, the girl gave me back to my owner. The moment he took me, the last thread linking them together seemed to have broken. My owner withdraw his gaze from her and after a long time he said softly, "my little fool". The words sounded unfinished, with untold tenderness hidden behind them. But in my opinion, should the fool refer to my intelligent owner himself?

I couldn't help but think, did my owner lose his colours? Or will he find them again, someday? Because, those who have seen the rich colours of the rainbow, would not be reconciled with grey again." -Rainbow Luck Rumours and Secrets

But in the end, the pen was returned back to MC.

Lucien carefully took out the pen from his pocket and placed it in the girl's hand. The he leaned over and whispered into her ear-

"Next time, don't rush into danger by yourself. Especially on my account." -Chapter 16-22

Like how Lucien would always come back to her- Ares or not, because those are his true colours- that Lucien, like how he’s also “iridescent”, would show all sides of him to her, and that he would love MC no matter which side he's on.

[izabellq]

DREAMS -> Akaashi Keiji

summary: a soulmate au where you see each other in your dreams.

pairing: akaashi keiji x gn!reader

word count: 3k

contains: angst, fluff, open-ended (also, if you guys spot instances where i specify gender, let me know and i’ll try to fix it asap! i edited this but sometimes, things just slip by)

akaashi keiji thinks the world is cruel.

he swipes the dust off the leather bound book before carefully sliding it back into it’s alphabetized slot. he carefully maneuvers himself around the oak wooden shelves, letting his feet track footprints into the burgundy rug below him. with a sigh, he realizes he is yet again desolated. a library reverie dedicated solely to himself and his predestined soulmate. yet, it seemed the universe had yet chosen one quintessential for him. akaashi didn’t need perfect, but on some days, he just wanted to have someone.

the macrocosm was seemingly convinced he was unfit to wield one. strung on the idea that he was intolerable and unmatchable. akaashi’s pessimistic attitude had betrayed his hopeful one, and soon, he was unable to shield himself from the knowledge that perhaps-- there was no one in the world meant for him.

(he still desires one, because he’d love nothing more than to connect with the person who he was bound to meet. he wants to depict their love in unrealistic fairytales.)

nights go by where he falls asleep and lounges in his fantastical library. he decides he could write a book with all the time he has to himself. but then again, he knows better than anyone that most of his projects remain unfinished. he’s lost inspiration, captured by the nasty talons of writer’s block. he thinks he’s at the end of his rope, and for a second he believes it’s about time he goes down a different career path. but he doesn’t do that. mostly because he’s unsure, and partially because he’s still filled with hope.

(but when his soulmate never shows, he comes to realize that hope is a fickle thing.)

it's one random day of the week where akaashi’s schedule isn’t as rigid as it habitually is. after a long afternoon of practice (which doesn’t stray from the norm) he’s desperate for sleep, and despite knowing that taking a nap would complicate his circadian rhythm, he was rather desperate.

drifting towards the soulmate reality became a feat he was more than used too. the vertigo he commonly experienced was quick to depart as he molded into his surroundings, the familiar scent of paper musk and printed ink leaves much to be desired.

though, if there was one thing that was slightly unsettling— it was the disruption of books laid despotic on the floor. akaashi, though only sometimes forgetful, had never once committed such a polluted act. he was always careful to restore books to their proper position once concluded, so he wondered what possible entity could have disrupted the neat nature of his lonesome library.

(it’s when you round the corner that all his presumptions were answered.)

oh dear, he thinks, you’re a winsome mess. books pulled into your chest, pajama pants folded past your ankle, a tank top only doing so much as to cover your chest and stomach. your mouth is shaped into an ‘o’ as if his presence was the most stupefying thing around— when really, it was you. 

(a book slips from your grasp, a reverberation follows shortly. he tries not to wince as it lands on its pages, folding the corner of the paper.)

the moment of shock is lost and your look of astonishment is replaced with mild skepticism. “who are you?” you ask, almost defiantly. 

“akaashi,” he replies honestly, though the look on your face seems to morph in some sort of revelation that he can’t understand. 

“say it again,” the stern tone of your voice lets him know that it wasn’t a mere request but a demand. he isn’t quite sure why you’re so on edge but because he already seems like the most rational one between the two of you, he doesn’t argue.

“my name is akaashi keiji,” he repeats himself, his concern only multiplied by the sting of comprehension creased into the sight wrinkles of your face. a part of him truly understands the circumstance before him, though a portion of him doesn’t want to give into the naïveté— because for so long, he was cursed with the belief that he didn’t deserve a soulmate. 

“your words keep getting… blurred,” you tried your best to explain, though no matter how detailed your explanation, the experience couldn’t be put into perfect words. “you know what that means… don’t you?”

of course he knows. on days where he thought his life was the one exception— he researched every story about soulmates as he possibly could. some were undoubtedly fake, others were heartwarming, but the one common piece of information he stumbled upon was that soulmates couldn’t hear personal information about the other whilst in their dream world. perhaps to prevent early encounters or just to make the process seemingly endless; either way, akaashi was well aware.

“i didn’t think i had a soulmate,” he lets his guard down decently low, though the flutter in his heart alerts him that it’s all going to come crashing down eventually. 

“neither did i,” you admit, placing down the books wrapped in your arms onto the floor. he wants to question what you could possibly be doing, but there’s more alarming inquiries he needs answers too.

good thing you seem just as eager to figure out why today was any different. “did you do anything today that might’ve been different from your usual routine? i went to bed at eleven… which isn’t any different from any other day.”

that’s when it hit akaashi— the answer was so obvious. “we live in different time zones. that’s the only reason i can think of…”

he trailed off, having been caught in the most frustrating loop of incredulity. all this time… you were right there… so close yet so far. the only thing that had separated his years of getting to know you was a different sleep schedule. in due time, he may look back at this incident and laugh— but right now, he felt cheated out of the most basic human experience ever.

(like a story, this was only the rising action— or perhaps the exposition, because this was truly the start of something new.)

he wants to speak, to reach out and connect with you in all the ways he’s only wished to do, but your harmonious laugh distracts him from his thoughts. “i never understood why my soulmate reality was a library. i guess that’s because of you, right?”

he doesn’t understand your change in personality in the same way he can’t tell when bokuto’s in a bad mood until it’s happening right before his eyes (though others would beg to differ). he’s desperate to learn everything there was to know about you— most importantly, your name. It’s the only thing he wants to know.

instead, he settles on, “what are you doing with those books?” 

it’s obvious you weren’t expecting that question, but then again, how was akaashi supposed to ignore the books you're defiling by simply letting them scatter on the floor? 

with a shy giggle, you respond, “well… since i thought i was alone, i was going to make a huge fort with them… ya know, cause i'm not much of a reader.”

from the red tint of your cheeks to the way your head was slightly tilted to the left was surefire proof of your discombobulation. and to akaashi, it seemed to hold such a power over him that he was unable to keep check his usual deportments. screw etiquette! this wasn’t even reality! 

“i’ll help you build one,” he offers, picking up a book from the ground. he runs his thumb over the edges, smoothly out the wrinkles that had surfaced. 

your head perks up, an opulent grin painting the once grimace. “really?!”

(for a smile like yours, he’d do just about anything to safeguard it’s fluoresce.)

back in the real world, all day his thoughts are occupied with you. you exist, your real, somewhere out in the world, your waiting for him. it’s a condolement he’s not willing to gamble with. he finds himself wanting to take more naps, just for the chance to indulge in another conversation with you. of course, it meant the eye bags under his eyes had sunken into a deeper shade— not noticeable to anyone that wasn’t him, and considering the effect it had on his everyday appearance, he’s come to the conclusion that it’d be nearly impossible to visit you every day of the week. it wouldn’t stop him from trying though.

from the side of the volleyball court, kuroo nudges bokuto skeptically. “what���s with that look on akaashi’s face… it’s starting to freak me out.”

bokuto hums— in approval? in contempt? who knows, but he’s happy. “he told me he finally met his soulmate. he’s just excited!”

“ah,” kuroo clicks his tongue knowingly, “i thought he didn’t have one?”

“turns out, they just go to sleep and wake up at different times. konoha thought it was pretty funny,” bokuto relayed, a chuckle bubbling under his throat. for so long, he had witnessed akaashi’s self-doubt and insecurity, and while parts of them still existed, it seemed to be slowly resolving itself. he couldn’t be more happier for his best friend.

“well, tell him to start focusing, i want to beat you guys when you’re at your best,” kuroo smirked, narrowing his gaze onto bokuto.

“you’re so on!”

(for the rest of practice, they had to endure akaashi’s love-sick gaze. fukurōdani still won.)

a month had passed since your very first interaction together. getting to know each other was more laborious than first intended. some words remained blurred, preventing the other from learning anything that might accelerate the rate of introduction in the real world. akaashi just wanted to know your name. it’s how he came to learn that while the universe was giving, it was also relentless.

“hey! i've been waiting for you, you know! i want to show you something!” you call from under the makeshift book fort. having just arrived, he knows from this point on, he has around thirty minutes before he’s awoken for dinner. 

thirty minutes, four times a week— the only times he’s ever been able to talk to you, due to the tight schedule you both live in. it’s too little, too small, and he feels selfish for wanting more. 

crawling under the fort, he pushed himself up to the side, wanting to give you as much room as possible in the cramped spot. in your hands, you have a book— it’s thin, meant for children, pages that combine to tell a moral. when you hand it over, it takes him less than a second to deduce the story and it’s plot. not because he’s some genius who had read every book on the face of the earth but because this story was rather popular in other parts of the world.

“sleeping beauty,” he reads aloud. his fingers run over the cover, trying to mentally depict what could be so important about this story that had you desperately trying to show him.

“it’s one of my favorite stories,” you sigh, propping your elbow on top of your thigh, leaning the weight of your face on your dominant hand. “my grandma used to read it to me all the time.”

oh. oh. you’re not asking what he thinks you're asking? right?

“can you read it to me, please?”

you are asking. his heart beats against the tightness of his chest, his ribs feel a tad out of place. and he knows— soulmates or not, he was utterly and completely yours. his cheeks flame and he attempts to hide it under his shirt.

“are you blushing?” you ask, and he can practically feel the teasing grin on your lips.

“no,” he mutters. 

you shuffle from your spot and coincidentally; tower over him. your hands and legs trap his body under your presence. you’d practically be touching him if the soulmate reality allowed you too. akaashi finds that to be the greatest travesty of them all. even though it’s practically impossible, he can feel your warmth radiate around him as if you were actually there. 

“does that mean you’ll read to me?” you ask, the battering of your eyelashes ever so visible. he doesn’t understand how you came to that conclusion, but it only tells him you knew exactly how’d he’d answer before he did.

“i’ll read it to you… just don’t laugh, okay?” akaashi opened the book, flipping the white picture-pages until he had reached the first chapter. you giggle, obeying his request with much hypocritism. you moved to sit beside him, leaning just a bit aways over his shoulder to follow along.

(akaashi isn’t a prince, but he’s more than willing to be yours if you asked.)

“i’m moving… so who knows? maybe we might meet in person one of these days,” you declare. It’s been an entire year now since he’s met you and it’s safe to say he’s utterly whipped. now in his second year of high school, he thinks he’s gotten to know you well enough to the point where the only thing left to learn is your name. 

(what’s your name??)

“you’re moving? above or below the equator?” he jokes.

luckily, you laugh-- knowing that there really isn’t much you can say without your words becoming a blurred mess. “i’m still above the equator, loser. actually, if we’re going to get really specific— i’d say the northern hemisphere.”

you guys laugh at your puny attempt of a joke. really, you know it meant no difference, and the fact that you can only rely on fate to carry you through is pitying to say the least.

“i can’t wait to meet you,” akaashi declares honestly, pulling on his fingers in habit. he wants to say more, anything that remotely rhymes with i love you, but he wants to save that special moment for the day he meets you. he knows more than anything that you’re waiting for the same.

“i can’t wait either— honestly, i think my mom might be more excited than i am. i talk about you all the time, you know?” you softly lean against your book fort, your eyes as happy looking as your smile.

(yeah, it’s safe to say he can’t wait.)

akaashi and writer’s block do not coexist peacefully. 

struggling to find words to replace the repetition created on pages, desperately searching for a means of inspiration-- he’s awfully close to giving up.

with a huge essay due tomorrow and a huge game he can’t afford to lose on the same day, he stresses over the fact that he may not be able to put his one-hundred-percent effort into both. even in the middle of a library (he should note: in the real world), a place where solitude was absolute, it provided no peace of mind.

it’s only when a small child, no older than five, wobbles out of the kid’s section with a copy of sleeping beauty, that akaashi’s reminded of you. with a small smile, he calms himself down. after all, you are his greatest muse.

(you’d probably laugh in his face if he told you that.)

after moving away from your hometown, which wasn’t quite as jarring as you expected it to be, you were quick to make friends. you wouldn’t call yourself a social butterfly— but contrary to most teen dramas, new students weren’t ‘fresh meat’ ready for the picking. finding a comfortable group of people you could associate yourself with, you found that most of them were volleyball fanatics (not because they actually played the sport, but because there were a lot of cute boys on the teams around the area, or so they say). either way, going to one of the games was inevitable. like a sort of inauguration you had to go through if you truly wanted to be considered part of the group.

you wouldn’t have it any other way.

after all, akaashi plays volleyball— that much you knew. the team name couldn’t be said, but at least you knew the sport he associated himself with. although he wouldn’t admit it, he was good, his team was good; after all, they made it to nationals and that was more than enough substantial proof. and while you didn’t want to get your hopes up, you were going to watch the national matches. you wondered… could this be the day?

walking up to the main arena, there was a certain ponderosity in the air that you couldn’t describe. it was as if a crushing truth was about to fall on your shoulders, and not knowing where it was about to fall from— you felt a crawling chill.

at the same time, akaashi had just finished the first game of the nationals match, split between wanting to rest or attend to bokuto’s high spirits. he’s attempting to walk into the main arena to watch the karasuno vs inarizaki match, but with his team basically surrounding him in their own attempts to make their way through— he deems the effort fruitless. 

just as he approaches the door, so do you.

but you're too busy keeping up with your friends.

and he’s too busy trying to squeeze past a ranting bokuto.

your hands graze each other’s, and simultaneously, you both receive a shock that runs down the basis of your spines. something prompted him to search for the cause of the odd feeling, and in that moment, he finds you. your back is faced towards him, your hair made no difference in the immediate recognition process-- but he’s sure that he’s met you before. he just knows it. the answer is on the tip of his tongue, a fraction of a second away from being revealed. 

he watches as your friends wait up for you, before your social circle turns around the corner and disappears from his sight (he gets hit with a strong sense of nostalgia from that). his heart stings, for reasons he can’t quite place. he’s never been too good at distinguishing his feelings anyways. bokuto is ushering him towards the stadium seating area, and the answer once on akaashi’s mind had dissipated into the air.

once he turns the corner, the moment is forgotten.

it’s only when he falls asleep later that night, not having dreamed of you, that it dawns on him.

akaashi keiji thinks the world is cruel.

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

[itsakpopalypse]

Enough

Lee Taeyong x Reader

-Best friends to lovers

-Word Count 2k

----soft warnings for mentions of insecurities i guess? They make out a bit, ---

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

When your best friend finds out you have your pride hurt by a boy you liked, he wants to make sure you understand not to shrink yourself for others to feel big, he assures you that you are enough.

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

Knees dig into your upper back, your head resting on the tops of them as fingers, deft and practiced, plaited your hair into a neat braid. 

It was relaxing, the feeling of complete openness that you shared with your closest friend. Occasionally, one hand would clasp the braid while the other combed through your leftover hair,  a soothing stroking that made your scalp tingle and shoulders relax.  

"So he took you out, and you had coffee?" Taeyong's voice was the same soothing tone it always was when you were alone like this, sitting on your bed together in your shared apartment.  

"Mhm. And Tae he was so nice then. We kissed, and everything felt so perfect."  His hands paused, gathering another chunk of well sectioned hair before continuing. The sound of him breathing was deafening as he considered his words.

"So why did you call me crying today?" He asked softly, more softly, even,  barely a whisper.  

You swallowed,  rubbing your palms over the knees of your pj bottoms,  the fabric pliant and stretchy in your grasp.  

"I found out today he's asked out Miranda."  You admit, hesitant at first to explain. 

"After 3 dates and a kiss?"  Tae sounds disgusted, absolutely shocked that someone would do that. You waited until the sound of the hair band thwapped into place at the end of your hair. He stroked and tugged on pieces, making sure it was even and not overly tight,  so you wouldn't get a headache. 

You turned, leaned against him still, but with your side, slinging one arm over his legs as you meet gazes. His eyes were round and gentle as always, but the concern in them made you regret the conversation.  Taeyong was gentle, always gentle. Your pain was never easy on him, but there was no one else you felt you could trust like you could him.

"Yeah. It wouldn't bother me so much if he had just… told me?   Would it have been so hard to just say he wasn't really into me? But instead I overheard him, when I  dropped by as a surprise.  I brought him his favorite take out and he was in the studio talking to Miranda about how different we were. About how I'm…" you hesitate, unsure how to word it. "I'm not feminine enough to be a girlfriend.  He said like... I'm nice, as a friend but that he needed  a woman who was more womanly. That I  was…. A lot."  

"And Miranda?"  Asked Taeyong, eyebrows lifted in surprise, but there was fresh, righteous anger beneath. 

"She seemed a little uncomfortable. Didn't say much in return. You know how nice she is. It's true though.  Compared to her I suppose there's no contest. I’m too much, or not enough, or whatever, most of the time." you let your body slide off his legs, laying back on your bed with a dramatic huff. The bed dips as he slides in beside you, on his side with his head propped up in one hand.   "I'm really not so feminine, and I've always been a lot.  A lot of jokes,  a lot of excitement. Too many words.  Maybe I'll just grow a garden, have plant babies that love me since no one else ever will."  You mumble in half over dramatic sorrow and half frustration, eyes following the ceiling fan as it spins on low, a hum that's both calming and familiar.  You don't meet his eyes.  You know what will be there.  You know how your insecurities effect him.  You know he's going to be giving you that look of heavy disapproval.  

You hate the way it makes you feel shame.  You hate the way your overall build  lacks the gentle fluidity other women possess. You hate the way expressing that to him always seems to cause him pain.  

He'd known you through your hormonal changes in puberty.  When your body had changed,  but not like some of the other girls and even when you'd caught up in  some ways, you'd never felt part of the adjustment. After nearly 2 decades of growth together, you knew there was no one else who'd get it the same way. The reason his words had affected you so deeply.  

You'd cried into Taeyong's shirt more times than you could count, back when you were a teen.  You'd complained and lamented that you were too much. Too loud, too clumsy,  too yourself.    

You recalled the way Taeyong had held you then, all gangly limbs and comforting breaths. He'd never let you stay in that dark place for long. 

"If you're too much for them, they're not enough for you." Is what he had said, and it stuck with you.  But on bad days, on days like today, that crushing weight of  not enough or too much pressed down on your chest with the same intensity as it had in your youth.  

"Well that's dumb. I'm not some overly buff specimen of masculinity, do you ever see me as less of a man?" His voice wasn't harsh, but it was shrewd, and you paused, head tilting on the bed to examine him, mouth drifting open.  Of course not.  Taeyong was the very definition of what a man  should be, to you.  

He was kind,  offered good advice.  He was thoughtful and protected you in the same way you stood up for him.  There was nothing about him you'd change, from his slender frame to his sharp jaw, his silent confidence always inspired you to lean on him. 

He was right, it as okay to simply “be”. There's no rules to it. 

Why had you placed such ridiculous standards on yourself? Why were you letting someone who was clearly in the wrong bring back the awkward emotions of a confused teenager? 

"No Tae. I get it." You said finally, a tiny smile spreading across your face. He was stern though, in return. 

"And what kind of nonsense is 'I'll grow a garden so my plant babies will love me because no one else will?" He pointed to the window, where his air plants hovered in their small ceramic pots. "Are you denying our plant babies?? They love you! So do I." His mouth was set in a firm line. 

It wasn't that you'd never exchanged I love you's… you had. Many times.   But something in the way he said it made your skin tingle. ."Well of course you love me, silly, we're best friends."   You joked, testing his seriousness. 

"No. Not this time. This time I won't explain it away." He insisted firmly,  pulling you onto your side completely by your hand. You lay face to face, mouth agape as he fixed you with a stare that felt more intense than you understood.  It felt hot, that little voice inside that had always kind of been there  was screaming now. You couldn't avoid the subject anymore. You knew his patience had worn thin, and you weren't sure your fear of the unknown would stop  either of you anymore. 

You knew what he meant.  Without words you knew what he'd intended for you to.  

When you didn't answer,  still unsure how to, his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip as he turned your hand over in his, tracing the lines of your palm with one finger. So soft that your own fingers twitched in response, and it hit you.  It hit you that your body always responded to him.  Your mind always followed his train of thought. The things that were second  nature to you both was a form of closeness few felt. So little need for words existed between you,  usually you needed to fill silence but with Taeyong  it was different. Silence wasn't fearful,  it was comfortable.  But he'd made it clear now that the time for silence was done.  He wanted an answer. Needed one. For once,  verbally you had to make yourself clear.  His heart lay in the space between you and he was begging you to tell him if he should put it away or let you take it.  

No. That was a lie. Part of you knew you always had it, and a bigger part of you was shocked to learn he had always owned yours too. 

"Okay." Was all you said, but it was what he needed to hear. Relief flooded his eyes and he leaned close, forehead pressed to yours as you both closed your eyes and breathed in the reality of the moment. 

This was something you could never hope to share with anyone else.  The closeness that you had with Taeyong. 

Inhaling a shaky breath, he let your noses graze, mouth hovering, waiting. 

"I love you." You said.  It was hushed,  barely heard above the whirring of the fan and the intensity of the moment. 

"I've always loved you. " he answered, and both your eyes opened for a moment, the rest of the words unspoken clear in the way his eyes sparkled. He didn't need to speak more, but he did. "I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay?" His voice nearly trembled in the final word.  

"Yeah." Your licked your lips nervously. "Okay." Maybe you were too much, too eager. But that was just enough for Taeyong, and nothing else really mattered in the moment.

When his lips pressed against your own, gentle, questioning, yours responded with a fervor you'd not felt before. 

The way you felt alive then, like the crackle of thunder in the distance on a hot summer evening,  promising cool refreshing rain on your sticky skin.

It was addictive, it was a belonging that begged more attention. Years of denial bubbled up to the surface and it made you more sure than ever what you wanted.  

Him. Him wholly and entirely.  You let yourself roll into him, and he moved with you innately. Soft groans breaking free from his lips between your insistent kisses, laughter bubbling up suddenly as your thighs came to rest on either side  of his hips. 

You sat up, confused by his giggles. Almost offended,  your brow lifted quizzically.  

He calmed himself,  shaking his head and gently stroking one hand over your hip and down your thigh. "It's just.  I always thought you know...We'd end up here. But this?" He gestured to your body above him. "This is so you." His fingers pressed into your thigh,  a gentle grip that got more tight as his eyes shifted from gentle to more.  Darker. Hotter. You'd known him in all the ways that a friend could, but you'd never known this side. 

It made something tighten inside your gut. It made something click in your head.  

This side of him was something new,  a self discovery.  The desire in his gaze, heavy on your skin taught you something. Love. Want. Kiss.  You couldn't examine anymore, you had to taste, touch.  

"You love me." You said, leaning in to feel the pressure of his body against yours,  the breath from his lips into your own.  

"I do." He said with a smile, brilliant as always,  filling your heart to bursting. 

You couldn't help a little teasing,  wiggling your center over his hips, his bulge already an insistent type of reminder. He loved you, wanted you. 

"Now kiss me again so I can get another peek at your pretty skin like that time in senior year when you dragged me into swimming naked in the lake and, NO, before you ask, I have never been able to rid my mind of the memory." You would have laughed, but he pulled you down on top of him more urgently,  pressing deeper kisses into your mouth,  tongue playing against your own in a way that drained the humor from the situation and left you hot, wanting. Wanted. And the feeling, even as it spurred you to grasping at his clothes and face in desperation, it also settled you inside.  You understood what he'd said before. If someone said you were too much they just weren't enough.  In the eyes of the right person, your person, you were exactly enough. 

[one-boring-person]

Show's Over.

The Lost Boys x VampireHunter!reader

Warnings: blood imagery, (minor) character death,

Context: This is the third part of the vampire hunter arc, I guess. It takes place a long time prior to the events in the first two (which i will link below this) so the relationship between the reader and the boys is not a particularly friendly one. In basic terms, the reader is chasing off a pair of vampire hunters, which the boys decide to confront (?) her about.

A/N: so I sort of figured out, too late, that this isn't particularly focused on the boys, but it kind of helps with some character development I guess? I hope it's acceptable😅

You Tell Us , Distraction

"Typical." I curse under my breath as I catch sight of my target walking down the street to my left, followed closely by an annoyingly familiar figure with a mess of blonde curls on his head, his confident demeanor a clear indicator of who he is. For hours now I've been waiting in the cold, damp space for her to finally walk past, ready to follow her to her comrade, the two of them having been a little hard to catch at first, despite their inexperience, and there's no way I'm letting some dumb idiot ruin the plan. Clenching my jaw, I move to the other side of the alleyway I'm in, pressing my back against the cold wall behind me, taking a fake cigarette out of my pocket and pretending to light it as the scantily clad woman steps past the entrance, my appearance going completely unnoticed. Seconds later, her pursuer trails after her, thumb between his teeth as usual, eyes focused on the target, so much so that he doesn't notice me step out behind him until my hand is wrapped around his mouth, my other arm looped around his waist. In his surprise, he allows me to pull him into the alley before starting to fight, his superior strength quickly getting the better of me, his hand swiftly clasping my throat and pushing me back against the wall, anger blazing in his expression.

"You? What the hell?" He hisses into my face, eyes flashing dangerously as I stand there, staring him down with disgust and irritation.

"You should check your victims before you advance on them, Blondie. She's not quite your type, being a hunter and all." I respond, pushing him off of me as his grip relaxes, surprise briefly flicking across his face. I don't give him time to respond, ducking out of the alleyway swiftly and starting up the street, my hands in my pocket as I try to look as casual as possible, knowing the woman from before went the same direction. For the moment, she's completely disappeared, but I'm well aware that she does not work alone, and they've used this tactic before, though I never found a body in the spot where they committed the deed, which puzzled me greatly at the time. Until I worked it out.

A few seconds later, I emerge out onto a large parking lot, the open space barely lit by three streetlights, revealing a beaten green truck with a tall figure leaning against it, a frown creasing his heavy brow as he spots me, clearly expecting to see someone else. I act as indifferent as possible, knowing exactly where his accomplice is due to their carelessness, quickly locating her the second I step into the light, though I don't give this away immediately. Instead, I take my hands from my pockets and greet the guy by the truck.

"Good evening." My voice is polite even if my face remains expressionless.

"Who are you?" He demands, pushing off the vehicle, muscles tense, demeanor unsure.

"A friend, unless you do something to change that." I inform him, lifting one of the sides of my jacket to show the stake tied into place there, though I keep my more lethal weapon hidden from him.

"You're a hunter too?" He sounds surprised, as if my appearance doesn't lead him to believe me.

"Yep. Santa Carla is my hunting ground." I confirm, gesturing vaguely to the surrounding area, lifting my eyebrow at him when he narrows his eyes. Behind the tuck, I notice there is a darkened shop window, in which I spot the reflection of a faint flicker of movement with no apparent body, confirming to me that she is, in fact, a vampire.

"Your hunting ground? I didn't realise you claimed it." The hunter comments without acknowledging his little friend, eyes flicking almost imperceptibly over my shoulder.

"I have. If you looked close enough, you'd notice that I've left my mark all around the place. And this is also why I'm politely asking you to leave and not come back."

At my words, the guy let's out a scoff, waving me off.

"And why should I do that? You're clearly not doing a good job." He says matter of factly, nodding slightly at the woman behind me, thinking I didn't notice it.

"Oh? What makes you say that?" I push, evening my stance in preparation.

"Well, for a start, this place is crawling with vampires."

I give him no reaction, knowing that he is mostly wrong - I've never let a vampire slip through my fingers, barring the four who skulk around the Boardwalk all night, and they hardly count.

"And what is your solution? I'm not gonna leave."

"Well it's quite simple, really." The hunter smirks at me, before I feel the familiar rush of air that signifies the approach of his accomplice. Instantly, I duck down and let the vampire lunge over me, stumbling past my form as I surge back upwards, pulling her arms back into an uncomfortable position and forcing her to her knees. In surprise, she cries out, writhing in my grip until I pull out my stake and hold it to her neck.

"An interesting solution, but I think you'll find I have a lot more experience than you think, and this is not the first new vampire I've encountered." In my grasp, the woman gasps and whimpers as I pull her arms tighter, nearly breaking her elbows. Across from me, the hunter appears shocked, a line forming between his eyes as he takes in my indifferent countenance, "Now, I'm gonna tell you again. Leave Santa Carla and never come back."

"Or what?" He snaps, scowling at me in frustration.

I roll my eyes, pulling the vampire upright, as I make eye contact again, giving him a pointed look as I thrust the stake straight into the side of her head, holding a hand over her mouth as she screams in agony, her blood pouring out onto my clothes and skin, her body writhing in pain. The hunter starts, a hand lifting as if to stop me, though it is quite clear that it is too late, her vampiric features fading as she finally falls unconscious, her body dropping to the floor with an unceremonious thud.

"That was strike one. Strike two is a little more...damaging." I explain to him, wiping my hands off on my jeans.

He stays silent for a minute, clearly shocked by this turn of events, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he speaks again.

"I doubt it. You think that scared me off? She was useless anyway." He scoffs, though I can tell he is lying, his stance tense and ready to move at a moment's notice, sweat beading on his brow.

"Maybe, but I reckon you have a high sense of self preservation, even if your techniques are as bad as they come." I muse out loud to him, before reaching into my jacket and pulling out a handgun I nicked from a security guard a couple of months ago, holding it down by my side for the minute. His eyes widen a little, almost indiscernibly, his neck tightening as he swallows nervously.

"You don't have the guts to shoot me."

"Don't I?" I cock the gun, aiming straight at his head, "Wanna test that theory?"

Gritting his teeth, he finally decides it's not worth it, climbing into his truck and driving off without a second glance, my arm only dropping when the vehicle leaves my sight. Sighing, I feel the disgust at my appearance finally set in, the congealing blood plastering the fabric of my clothes making them stick to me uncomfortably.

A whistle, followed by a slow clap interrupts me. I turn to find the four people I least want to see leaning against the darkened window of a closed shop, eyes all fixed on me.

"Nice going. Didn't think you could actually do it." Mullet-boy (as I call him) smirks at me, a cloud of smoke billowing out of his lips as he speaks, a cigarette clasped between two fingers.

"What the hell do you four want?" I retort, eyeing them all suspiciously.

"Just wanted to see the show." Twisted Sister Wannabe shrugs, leaning back against the wall with a wide grin, Blondie agreeing with him with a smirk. Only the brunette remains silent, his dark eyes watching me with some sort of emotion in them - admiration?

"Well show's over now, so you can leave me alone."

"Where's the fun in that?" Mullet-boy responds, sauntering over to me with an air of confidence, stopping over the body of the vampire I killed just minutes ago.

"Where's the fun in staying here?" I point out, hesitantly crouching down by her head, pulling the stake from her lifeless skull whilst keeping a close eye on the vampires crowding around me.

A low chuckle leaves the leader, his lips briefly closing around his cigarette as he inhales and exhales after a few seconds.

"You stopped Marko from going after her earlier. Why?" He finally asks, blue eyes holding my gaze in place.

"Who?" I question, before remembering the name that goes with the correct face, "Oh right, yeah, I did. You would've messed up my plan if you'd kept going, and you would've ended up dead."

"Is that right?" Blondie - or rather, Marko - bristles at my words, stepping forwards slightly until the brunette stops him.

"What makes you think he couldn't take them on?" The taller vampire inquires, eyebrow lifted in curiosity.

I shrug dismissively.

"They were both new to the profession."

"Doesn't that make them easier to kill?" Twisted Sister Wannabe frowns, exchanging a glance with Marko.

"Maybe, but it also makes them more dangerous." I sink the piece of carved wood into the unconcious vampire's chest, killing her properly, before placing the stake into my pocket again, standing back up again and backing away from them, going to the space where the truck was originally stood, inspecting the ground around it. The vampires watch me with interest, none of them making a sound until Marko and Twisted Sister Wannabe start to whisper with each other, the two of them giggling amongst themselves at some private joke, only stopping again when I lean down to pick something up off the floor.

"What've you got there, kitten?" Mullet-boy questions me, voice sounding bored even though I know I've piqued his curiosity, the platinum blonde making his way over to me again, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Don't call me that, Mullet-boy." I growl at him, warningly, feeling slightly triumphant when his face tightens momentarily.

"I could ask you the same thing, hunter." He responds, tone laced with threat.

"Or you could ask me my name." I point out, inspecting the object in my hand: a small signet ring which reeks of garlic. Clearly, the hunter is not aware of how utterly useless this is.

"I know your name. The question is whether you remember ours."

"Of course I do, I'm not an idiot." I snark back at him, examining the insignia on the ring's face, not quite noticing as the other three come closer.

"We never said you are." The brunette, Dwayne, reminds me, his head suddenly appearing close to mine as he takes a look at the loop of metal in my hand. I tense up as I find them all circled around me, each of them looking at the ring, a frown appearing on David's face as he drops the cigarette, crushing it underfoot as he takes the ring from me.

"That's interesting." He murmurs to himself, eyeing the intricate lines with a practiced eye, as if he knows the pattern well.

"What is?" Twisted Sister Wannabe, Paul, asks, face creased with confusion. When the leader doesn't move to respond, I roll my eyes and step forwards, taking the ring back from him with a sense of finality, going back over to the body, where I pat it down, looking for any possessions she may have owned, finding none except another ring, a smaller one this time. Pocketing them both, I reach under the limp body and tense my muscles, picking it up with a small grunt, wincing a little when the drying blood sticks to my clothes, the stench quickly entering my nostrils. As I heave the body into a comfortable position, I shoot one last look over at the four vampires, nearly smirking at their surprised expressions, clearly not expecting me to be able to lift such a heavy weight, raising an eyebrow at them almost as if in farewell, before turning and starting to walk off, intending to dump the body out at sea, where it won't be found for at least a few weeks.

"I have one last question before you go." David calls after me, voice genuinely curious for once.

"What is it?" I snap back at him, eager to get home at this point, fed up with reeking of vampire blood.

"Would you have shot him if he didn't leave?"

I slow my pace momentarily, redrawing the gun from my jacket as I balance the body against me. Without a word, I aim blindly at a nearby building, compressing the trigger twice.

Only one hole appears in the brickwork.

"My first shot is always a blank, but my second is always well-placed." I respond, continuing on after holstering the gun once more, cursing myself for wasting a bullet. Behind me, I can just about make out Marko and Paul talking with each other, one sentence standing out to me.

"Well, I'm glad we don't have to worry about her." Paul says this, but he is quickly interrupted by David, who sounds a little put out.

"I'm not so sure about that."

[wickedbarnes]

Guns and Roses (Pt. 2) | John Wick x Reader

Part 1

SYPNOSIS: After the little visit from the new flower shop downtown, John slowly finds himself on edge and being haunted by a certain innocent girl.

THEME: Non-con. Dubcon. Obsession. Dark!John x Innocent/Naive!Reader. Abduction. Lots of smut. Don't read if any of these make you uncomfortable. 18+ readers ONLY.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Slight mention of violence.

John hadn't find the time to visit her yet. And days passed by, he had grown irritated by the fact without him noticing. He was easily angered but then again, he was like a ticking time bomb ever since his wife died. When Helen Wick was sent six feet underground, she took the man that John once was.

A whole different version of him was left behind. A version of him that shook his enemies to the core. Because if John Wick was already known to be brutal, the man who he is today was worse than that now. And somehow, that alarmed some people.

Some of them believed he was losing a few screws. But they weren't bold enough to be loud about the rumor. They didn't want to take any chances. Last time someone uttered the name of Helen Wick and used it to push John's buttons, they had their head cut off. The slow way. After that, no one was brave enough to do what the last guy did.

And somehow, his pal, Aurelio noticed how John was always so antsy and on edge as if one tap on his shoulder would cause him to have a killing spree.

"John, you need to take it easy." He sighed and poured the man a drink. The assassin grumbled and leaned back on his seat broodingly.

"I am taking it easy." He reasoned out but he knew Aurelio wasn't buying any of that shit.

"I'm not stupid, man. I notice how you seem so... I don't know, seem so... irritated. Like something's been bugging you. Do you wanna tell me about it?"

"There's nothing to tell." By the tone of John's voice, Aurelio raised his arms up in defeat.

"Okay, but you gotta push yourself, man." He sighed and took a sip of his drink, "You can't mope around forever. You need to do something. Go out, find someone new, figure a new hobby. Stop restricting yourself, John."

John gripped the glass tightly as his mood worsened by what Aurelio was saying but a voice inside his head told him that he was just doing what any friend would do during a hard time.

"I'm perfectly fine with how I'm doing. I got a job, I book bind, I keep myself busy. I'm good to go." John answered which made his friend sigh deeply.

"John, you're holding yourself back and it's so evident. Stop doing things that you feel is what you need to do. Do the things that you want to do. I know for a fact that you don't want to go back to being an assassin nor does book binding give you enough benefits now but you're doing them because you feel somehow obligated."

John stayed silent as Aurelio's words began to register inside his head.

"You still have some years left, man. Don't waste it. If you want to socialize, do it. Don't hold yourself back. Jesus, if you want to hook up with thousands of bitches, do it! No one's telling you no."

John took a huge swig of his drink.

"What I'm saying is, I know Helen wouldn't have wanted you to live this way. She would've wanted you to move on."

John sometimes hated how right Aurelio was. He sometimes hated it when he makes a point and that often happens. But his words did got himself thinking.

Would Helen be happy with the man John has turned out?

He already knew the answer to that but John can't bring himself to accept it. Without another word, he got up from his seat and decided to call it a day before he drove back into his empty shell of a home.

It wasn't even dark out yet. But John found himself being utterly exhausted. Maybe it was because of his recent mission the other day. Sighing, he craned his neck a bit and felt the kink that had been bothering him for a few days. The bruises on his body didn't help either. He somehow remembered how Helen would tend to his wounds everytime before he retired. How she'd treat every cut and every bad bruise that was etched on his skin.

But now he needed to make do and do all that himself.

Or maybe someone could still do it for him? Would that girl have the same touch as Helen had or would it be more comforting? Would it be- No. No.

John shook his head and tightened his grip around the steering wheel. This was one of his everyday struggle now. Ever since he visited that damn flower shop, John finds himself thinking about her every now and then. Even when he willed himself not to, that girl was sneaky enough to slip through his mind yet again.

The assassin would sometimes compare her to Helen. There was no doubt she was younger than him and even younger than Helen. If John wasn't mistaken, maybe he was twice her age. And he hates how he likes that fact.

He never found himself being attracted to women who were much younger than him. But after seeing her, John finds himself debating whether he'd make an exception for that.

The daisy he tucked safely in the pocket of his coat was placed neatly and safely on his nightstand. Why? He has no idea. But at the same time, he does. The daisy was as delicate as she was. And John wanted to grasp that sense of delicateness and purity in his hands. He wanted to cherish it somehow. And so, every morning when he wakes up, he'd check to see if the daisy that fell from her hair was still there where he placed it.

He relaxed everytime he sees it.

"Get your shit together." He'd tell himself. But just as he did, he found himself driving by the familiar flower shop. And if John had the chance to kick himself right in the balls for parking on the side of the road, he would've.

He should've walked away. He should've drove back home but his feet had carried him inside the shop where he found himself entering, the bell ringing as he opened the door.

There weren't many customers inside but John had noticed there was quite a change the last time he had been here. There were more chairs and tables and John noticed how there were baked goodies being served to the customers.

His attention was taken when he found her walking out from the back of the room with flour smeared on her cheek. Today, she was wearing a pastel pink, puff-sleeved dress and her hair was let loose, letting it pool down her back in beachy waves. She looked absolutely adorable. Stunning, even.

And John found himself admiring the color pink on her.

"Oh, hey!" The girl greeted her with a bright smile on her face, "Haven't seen you around. Have you been taking good care of your cactus?"

John chuckled and stuffed his hand in the pockets of his jeans as he nodded.

"Yeah, I finally got the hang of it. It's looking pretty healthy, thankfully."

"That's great! If you want more, just tell me and I'll give you a discount." She'd say, whispering the last part to him as if she was afraid someone would hear and be offended that she offered John a discount.

"Oh, I'll keep that in mind for sure."

"So, what can I get you today? Finally managed to turn this into a little café. And thank God I don't have to do it all alone now." John turned his head to see a girl just about her age serving coffee to the couple on the other side of the room.

"This place looks great, really." John complimented her and began to look over at the pastries that were placed on the display counter.

He wasn't a big fan on sweets but John didn't want to be rude and come here just to chat with her although he wouldn't mind that one but. But a voice in his head convinced him to at least buy one of her baked goods and have a taste on something that she made herself.

"I'll just have a blueberry muffin and some coffee to go, sweetheart." John would say after some time, not meaning to call her another pet name. He internally punched himself in the face for that and somehow hoped she didn't catch onto it or at least find it weird.

But he was relieved, a bit ecstatic when he saw how her face blushed slightly to what he just called her. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from grinning at the fact that he now knows he somehow has an effect on the girl.

She'd nod her prettt little head and wrote his order quickly on the notepad she had.

"How would you, uhm, like your coffee, sir?" She asked, looking up at him with those adorable fucking doe eyes and John had to clench his fist to stop himself from reaching over and caress her cheek while she looked up at him like this. As if she was ready to submit whatever he wanted her to submit.

"Black. No sugar, no creamer." John answered as the bashful girl in front of him nodded her head obediently and John smiled faintly at how she took in every word he had said.

"This'll be done in a minute or two. Find somewhere you can sit and I'll serve it to you." She smiled and John thanked her for her service and immediately gave her his pay. But as she began to prepare his order, John slipped in a generous amount of cash and put it inside the tip jar that she had before he walked over to a vacant seat near the counter where she worked.

He knew she could've easily just called her name so he could get the order himself since that's how cafés usually work but since she offered to serve his order herself, how could John possibly say no to an offer like that?

It only took a few minutes before she walked over to his table and placed his order down carefully in front of him. John's eyes were focused on her, as if he was taking in every bit of her features inside his mind, as if he was trying to memorize every crevice of her body, every freckle or mark that she had on her skin and by the looks of how her cheeks had blushed yet again, John knew that she knew he had been staring at her.

"Will that be all, sir?" She asked somewhat shyly and John chuckled at her bashfulness. She looked adorable. Too adorable. And not the kind where he wanted to pinch her cheeks. It was the kind where he wanted to push her up against the wall or caress her inner thigh just to see what kind of reaction she would get.

"That'll be all, sweetheart. But I suppose it wouldn't be too much of me if I ask for your name?" He asked politely, not wanting to come off as creepy or too intense. He wouldn't want to risk blowing up his chance in knowing the name of the fairy-like dame such as herself.

"O-Oh, uh..." She bit her lip down nervously before she answered, "Y/N, sir. Y/N Y/LN."

"Y/N." John whispered to himself as if he was testing what her name would sound like rolling off of his tongue, "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm John. John Wick."

Y/N smiled faintly at his name and held the circular tray close to her chest.

"It's nice to meet you, John. Hope you enjoy your meal." She'd say and with that, she went back to the counter and began to serve the other customers that came in. Whether they wanted to try out her new pastries and coffee or needed assisting when it came to flowers.

John didn't waste his time nor his money and began to dig into his muffin and surprisingly, he found out how much he liked it. The muffin wasn't too sweet nor was it too bland. It was just right for his taste. He could never finish the muffin that Helen made back then. They always came out too sweet. Sometimes too dry. Even the coffee he ordered managed to taste better than the one he drinks at home.

The assassin seemed pleased that he managed to finish everything he had ordered. Not only that, it gave him more reason to stop by the shop more. Either he wanted to try Y/N's other baked goods or just for her, only he had to know.

Unfortunately, he had to live early. He had a mission to get to tomorrow and he couldn't risk going without getting any proper sleep. So he begrudgingly stood up from his seat and made his way to the door but not before turning back and sending Y/N a smile and a wink.

The tint of pink reappeared on her soft ample cheeks and John chuckled as she bit her lip and looked away, probably too embarrassed to even wave goodbye at him.

But either way, he was satisfied with how his day had ended.

That night, John went into a blissful sleep. He could swear he smelled the strong aroma of black coffee, could see the flowers loitering in a familiar looking shop, could taste the blueberry muffin he ate earlier.

He could also feel the gentle touch of a certain girl that did nothing but just drive him crazy these past few days. He could feel the fabric of a pastel pink dress brushing against his knee and the giggle that belonged to someone that had daisies in her hair.

This was the first time that he had dreamt of someone apart from Helen and her death. This was the first time he felt warmth radiating in his body. It was the first time he had dreamt of her.

And slowly but surely, he could feel Y/N leaning in, her soft cherry glossed lips brushing against the shell of his ear that only caused him to grip on his pillow tightly.

"John. Wake up, John." She'd whisper just as John heard the familiar beeping of his alarm clock. He fluttered his eyes open and immediately turned it off.

It was 5:30 AM. Sighing, he slowly sat up and turned to look at the daisy that sat perfectly on his nightstand.

And maybe, just maybe, in his groggy state, John picked up his wife's bracelet and placed it inside the drawer before closing it, leaving the little daisy and the cactus Y/N had gifted him on his nightstand.

He smiled at the view. It looked refreshing. But somehow, there was a feeling settling in his stomach that stirred the guilt in him a bit.

Because that was also the first time he had put away Helen's bracelet somewhere where he couldn't see.

But soon enough, the guilt died down as quickly as it came.

TAGS: @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz @fairylightsandchai @pinkzsugar @edgiestwinter @paanchu786 @meetmeinthematinee @baphometwolf666 @fortheloveoffanfic @thesadvampire

[stoopsbookstore]

Kinktober Day 14 (10/14/2019)

Kinks - Dacryphilia (Crying) & Hybristophilia (Fetish of knowing your partner just commited a crime a.k.a. Bonnie and Clyde)

"Did you hear about the possible theft happened in town?"

"No, but do you think it's the same hooded guy who's been all over the wanted posters?!"

"Oh my God, what if he tried attacking the princess?!"

"Is that why she's being locked in a tower?!"

"He killed that vanguard, maybe he's escalating to the princess!"

Rumors spread throughout the kingdom, not letting up for even a second. They said that the princess was attacked by a hooded man, or that she was pregnant by one of the butlers.

"Do you think it was Jaemin?"

"Hell no, he's too much of a child. Maybe it was Johnny, the stable boy."

"She does go to the garden a lot and he is always th-"

The gossip stopped as Y/N walked by the two slackers, Yuta and Jaemin in tow.

"Don't you think you should focus on cleaning the palace instead of whose cock I'm jumping on or if someone wants to slash my throat?"

The four servants were stunned at the mood changes in Y/N, she never had been this mean, even if she was scolding or busting them. It was like she had been possessed. The flowers in the garden wilted and were eventually taken over by weeds. The entire atmosphere of the palace felt drained. Y/N walked the halls like a ghost, floating through the corridors. Letters in her hands that she refused to let anyone even look at.

Yuta and Jaemin watched Y/N walk up the stairs to her temporary tower, the tall, winding spiral staircase hopefully a deterrent for any who try to attack. Yuta noticed one of the letters at the first step, picking up and reading the contents.

"Do you think he went after her?"

"No," Yuta looked at the younger male, patting his back in assurance, "he's a criminal, but Taeyong said something like he's chaotic good, he steals from the rich and gives to the poor. He wouldn't have attacked Y/N. Also, based on these letters, it seems like they have a relationship."

"Why do you think she's been so quiet then?"

"Broken heart?" Yuta shrugged before Chaeyeon came up, ripping the letter out of his hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with that letter?"

"It was on the ste-"

"It's meant for Princess Y/N and no one else," Chaeyeon barked at Yuta, her eyes with a glint of annoyance, walking up the stairs to deliver the note.

"So you know about the boy on the wanted poster?" Chaeyeon stopped as the younger male bared his teeth, "do you know him?!"

"I could ask you little shits the same question," Chaeyeon bit back, "now if you excuse me, I need to deliv-"

"Get back to work, you three."

Shindong, the head butler yelled at the trio at the base of the tower, breaking up the impromptu meeting. Yuta and Jaemin kept their heads down while Chaeyeon walked up the staircase to the princess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the tower, Y/N didn't do much except read or sleep, hours upon hours of nothing. Night had begun, the sun going down in the sky causing a glow in the room that comforted the princess, the sky a golden bronze turning into a deep void.

Y/N walked over to the desk pushed up against the wall, the wanted poster and a familiar face. Tears begun swelling up, falling onto the parchment, causing it to shiver up even more.

A knocking on the floot entrance made Y/N jump back.

"Y/N, it's Yuta! We only have a few minutes until someone checks in on you, open up!"

Y/N bent down and reached for the handle of the hatch, opening it only for three boys scattering in the small space.

"Have you been cryi-"

Jaemin was cut off by Doyoung's cloak engulfing Y/N, the girl audibly sobbing as the criminal swayed back and forth, comforting the princess.

"What happened?" Y/N asked Doyoung, her voice weak and breaking as she noticed the blood on his neck.

"I'll tell you all about it, I just needed to see you," Doyoung brushed his thumbs over Y/N's cheeks before placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Yuta, Jaemin, what's going on?" Y/N broke out of her lover's hold to scold the two servants, the duo looking around for any sort of answers.

"Your highness, please don't be mad."

"We've been helping him," Jaemin's confession spilled out of his lips like a waterfall, Yuta contorting his body in discomfort as he tried to hide himself, "we've been taking some jewelry and goods so he can give them to his friends. We helped him come in through the kitchen every night. He's a good guy, we prom-"

"I know he's a good guy, Jaemin," Y/N's eyes red and cheeks itchy from the tears, "I just didn't realize you've been helping him."

"Are we in trouble?" Yuta looked up from the floor, his eyes pleading for forgiveness, but there was no need to plead.

"Go get bandages and antiseptic," Y/N lifted the hatch once more, "be quiet and careful, don't let anyone know what's going on."

Yuta and Jaemin hurried down the stairs, the opening now closed as Y/N went back to hugging the hooded figure. Doyoung's arms squeezed Y/N's waist, trying to bring the girl impossibly close to him.

"I've been worried about you, Yuta told me they put you in a tower because of me," Doyoung walked the pair out to the small bed, just barely big enough for the two, "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Did you really kill that man?" Y/N was straddling Doyoung's lap, her arms around his neck, her nightgown bunching up, "Doyoung, please tell me the truth."

Doyoung tilted Y/N's chin up, their eyes meeting each other, "do you want the truth?"

Y/N bit her lip, scared to know the answer, but wanting the truth.

Running her hands through his hair, he was debating on what to tell the girl in his lap. He was panicking, the room now only lit by a few candles on the walls, Y/N looking more ethereal. Doyoung didn't realize his mouth had opened until Y/N gasped.

"Yes."

Y/N stood up, half in shock, half in acknowledgement, her eyes growing glossy again.

"Y/N, it was self-defense," Doyoung mimicked her actions, standing up, tears falling on his cheek, "I didn't want to, but he attacked som-"

"Chaeyeon."

"She told you?"

"Who do you think has been bringing me the letters?" Y/N let out a breath of relief, "she told me about that night, I pieced it together when I saw the posters going up. I thought the worst."

Doyoung walked up to Y/N, kissing her in a moment of passion, "I don't ever want you to think the worst of me. I promise I only do good when I'm being bad."

Y/N smiled through the tears, Doyoung standing in front of her in comfortable silence. She pulled off her nightgown to reveal her body, only panties covering her. Doyoung took off his cloak, new wounds covering his arms, her hands tracing over each one.

"I know I'm not the prince you thought you would be in love," Doyoung helped Y/N to the bed, moving papers and books out of the way, Y/N sitting on the wood as Doyoung began kissing her body, "but I promise I will be the best man I can be, god you're so beautiful."

Y/N responded to Doyoung's touches with whines and moans, his praises felt sll throughout her body. Y/N kept her head on Doyoung's chest, her hands scratching down his back as his fingers began to play in her panties. Doyoung instantly started working on Y/N's clit, his other hand on her back, holding Y/N close to him, her tears still flowing.

"Don't cry, I'm here for you," Doyoung pulled his hand away from Y/N, "come on, not on a desk."

Y/N hopped off the desk, following Doyoung as he gently laid her down on the mattress, kissing and loving her body.

"You just killed someone," Y/N's voice cracked.

"To protect another," Doyoung kissed up Y/N's stomach to her neck, snuggling into the flesh, "I don't do anything horrible."

"You're a wanted criminal," Y/N pulled on Doyoung's hair, a growl coming out of his throat.

"Who you're in bed with," Doyoung pulled down Y/N's panties, throwing them aside, burying his face into Y/N's slit as he began to eat her out.

"Doyoung," Y/N's body was drained from all the crying, everything already sensitive, "I don't wa-want you t-"

"You want me to stop?" Doyoung halted his actions, confused, "I thou-"

"Just make love to me please," Y/N's voice cracked again, Doyoung untying the lace on his pants and chucking them to meet Y/N's discarded panties.

Doyoung pumped himself, rubbing his cock up and down in Y/N's essence. He pushed into her, bottoming out as he pulled her closer to him. His thrusts began almost immediately, Y/N keeping her mouth shut so they won't get caught, her hands on his lower back.

"My princess, I never want to see you crying again," the passion in the crimnial's thrusts meeting Y/N's hips in beat with the starting rain, "I want to see you happy forever, I want you to be mine forever. God, I wish I could fill you up without the kingdom knowing."

Y/N let out a ecstatic moan, Doyoung's dirty talk bringing her closer and closer to the edge she was ready to jump off of.

"Having children with you would be the best thing, they would have an amazing life," Doyoung felt Y/N clenching around him, "just a little bit more, princess."

Y/N felt her legs shake as Doyoung moved his hand to her clit, rubbing at the same pace of his hips.

Y/N came with a silent moan, her eyes shutting tight as she felt Doyoung's semen leak out of her, the liquid feeling warm on her thighs.

"You're so perfect," Doyoung kissed her forehead, pulling out, but holding Y/N in a calm aura, the only noise coming from the downpour that suddenly emerged outside.

Y/N got herself out of Doyoung's grasp, laying down and wrapping herself in the blanket. Doyoung uncovered her for a second, grabbing her discarded night gown to wipe her down. Y/N's eyes started to flutter shut, Doyoung kissing her cheek before spotting the wanted poster.

'Fuck, I have to go,' he wanted to say, he really did, but with the entire kingdom looking for him, he couldn't risk himself and potentially Y/N for his own selfish wants.

As Doyoung was about to leave, his wrist was held by Y/N's hand, her body covered by the blanket, her eyes tired from the roller coaster of emotions.

"Stay, please."

Doyoung grabbed his cloak, placing it over Y/N's shoulder before crawling into bed with her.

"For tonight and forever."

[ginkgomoon]

Hello there! I hope everything is going well with you. (・∀・)

I have some questions. In CH 30 & 32 the Time Observer mentioned about the "price being too heavy/dear" & he mentioned that he never expected for Victor to choose that method to prevent the crisis. I was wondering what price is he talking about & what's "the method" he mentioned? & Victor collapsing in CH 32 was not from hitting the bullet I believe. What exactly happened there?

Also...I don't know the details but I think I saw it somewhere that Victor goes through different timelines & dimensions for 10000 years in the later part of the story...? I remember reading it in a R&S that every time he crosses a dimension he'd experience soul crushing pain... The mere thought of doing it for so long honestly made me feel traumatized. I was hoping you could give me some insights as to what exactly he was doing.

I hope I'm not bothering you with tons of questions & they made sense. Thanks a lot in advance! Have a good day! <3

Hello!!

Thank you, you too! :)

I hope I helped answered your questions here. It's quite long, so enjoy the read!

I did Victor’s Time Observer analysis and I’ll be heavily referencing that post to help answer this particular ask. Big thank you to @cheri-cheri and @ey8508 for help clarifying some of my thoughts concerning Victor this chapter! Spoilers down below! ⏱

“With great power comes great responsibility.” -The Peter Parker Principle

We all know Victor bears great power, but also with that comes great responsibility. He is the sole individual who has the will and power to alter time and space, however this develops drastic consequences to his health and to history- all for his love for MC.

Victor doesn’t care about this price- he is more concerned with whether he can prevent the death of the girl in every unpredictable future.

“The person who can save the world… is not me, but her. As for myself, I know my ending line and how much pain I can bear better than anyone. I would rather take such a risk.” -Chapter 35-36 Rumours and Secrets

Chapter 30-6

Victor is seen to be flanked by bodyguards on Adagio Street. Moments later, in a pure white space, we see the Time Observer addressing Victor.

I stood in the centre of the street, looking hesitantly around, but I was unable to spot that familiar figure.

In the dead of the night, from the distant horizon, there seemed to come the sound of a mechanical little violin.

In a boundless, pure white space, the music would be at time peaceful and solemn, and at others somber and mournful. After the final note, that pair of tightly-closed eyes opened.

The Time Observer looked at Victor, neither showing surprise.

That pale white hand brushed lightly over the violin strings, and his gravelly voice spoke up with the pluck of the string.

TO: “The natural rules of operations no longer supply. This world… in memory is a turbulent past and in imagination, there is no serene future. She should have stayed in that world. Her return was a mistake.”

Victor: “If you’re still here that means we still have a chance.”

TO: “A chance that comes at such a heavy cost. Is it really worth it? You will soon understand, in some things, you are doomed to helplessness. Try with all your might, and yet, it remains out of reach.”

Victor: “I won’t let her die again. No matter when."

This will foreshadow future events such as in Chapter 32, where Victor shows a demonstration of this.

Chapter 32-6

Amidst the scattering glass shards, I saw a number of bullets flying towards me.

Only one thought ran through my mind.

Am I going to die?

Chapter 32-8

In the darkness, a crack suddenly splits open, and a blinding light appears, obscuring my sight. My heartbeat practically came to a standstill, the pain I expected never came. The blinding light disappeared, instantaneously replaced by darkness.

Time seemed to pause for a second.

The pitch black bullets, the fractured glass, the car in mid-air…

And then it fell all heavily to the ground.

And in this moment, Victor challenged “fate”, or rather, the “natural rules of operations”, stated by the Time Observer.

I reached out and grabbed the black clothing fluttering before me. Even my voice was trembling.

MC: “Victor…”

I looked in a daze at the man before me, at those fierce eyes beneath his wind-blown hair.

He was looking back at me, as if trying to etch me into his eyes with his deep gaze. But there was another emotion hidden within as well.

After confirming he was unharmed, I let out a sigh, then looked anxiously into his eyes.

MC: “What are you doing here?”

Victor: “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?”

But this time, his voice was flat.

MC: “I’m sorry… but I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m not unaware of the danger… I must simply stay and stop them.”

I hastily wanted to get Victor out of danger, but his feet were planted firmly. I looked up, to get a look at his expression.

His voice was steady, stopping me in my tracks.

Victor: “I see.”

MC: “You really believe I can stop them?”

Victor: “I said before, even if you don't trust yourself, always trust me. I won’t do anything I'm not sure I can handle. Go what you think needs to be done.”

He patted the back of my head lightly, with a hint of tremor in his voice. He didn’t ask me or stop me, as if he already knew the choice I’d made.

So, while the STF agents and runaway Evolvers were battling, MC was literally going to die at that moment. But Victor enters- using his Evol to stop time, ultimately stopping the bullets and MC’s death.

I whirled around, hoping to catch sight of him.

MC: “Victor!”

I wanted to tell him I’d done it, that I really had prevented this crisis.

A faint worry floated up in my chest. What about Victor?

Medic: “Someone, come quick! There’s another person here!”

I turned and hurried to the end of the bridge.

I then quickly found him.

Ringed by a crowd of people, there he was, the person I would recognise anywhere.

It was…

I halted my steps for a moment, then ran to him without hesitation.

I broke into a panic.

Chapter 32-10

Victor… What happened to him??

I pushed the crowd aside and frantically ran to him.

His face was pallid, eyes squeezed shut, his hair plastered messily to his forehead with sweat. I grasped his hand, unable to believe how icy cold it felt to the touch.

MC: "How could you… Why did you…”

Just then, those eyes shut with pain cracked open. He pursed his lips and then coughed violently, blood started trickling out. Even like that, he still chuckled weakly.

Victor: “I used to think… that your problem was that you thought you could control fate all by yourself. Stubborn, self-reliant, in over your head. Whenever anyone tried to tell you anything, no matter what they said, it was always in one ear and out the other.”

Although it sounded a little weak, his voice was unusually calm, and didn’t really even pause or halt. Almost if, if he stopped, he wouldn't be able to start again.

Victor: “But I really did learn a little something from you. You are the thing unto yourself, so only know the best what your values and decisions should be. No one can guide you. And just like I can’t hold you back, you also can’t change this decision that I’ve made. Don’t ask why, this time, just let me say my piece.”

His voice grew weaker, but he managed to lift his right hand and place it over mine.

I clasped his hand, and a feeling of suspense and dread came over me like I'd never felt before.

MC: “I know… I know… You don’t have to say more.”

He was afraid of something, but not because his life was slipping away. It was more like… something would happen.

Victor closed his eyes, completely exhausted. I squeezed his hand tighter, as if trying to hang on to those remnants of warmth.

You have to make it through this.

A man standing by the riverside swiped his hand through the fog, swiped his hand through the fog, stirring it up into an erratic vortex.

Zero: “Did he actually…”

TO: Like I said before, he is the most suitable candidate.”

Zero: “But he refused to help us open the Door of Return.”

TO: “Perhaps it’s only temporary, and he’ll change his mind. I didn’t imagine he’d choose this method for preventing this crisis. Too bad… the price was so dear.”

After Victor saves MC from death, she finds him on the ground- pale and in terrible pain. Throughout Victor’s time with MC, we slowly see the influence he has on her- and the influence she has on him. He tells her that while she shoulders everything on her own and never listens to anyone, she did teach him things in the process. With her love and kindness, she strives to defy “nature's course” and saves worlds. Literally.

You were correct, Victor didn’t suffer injuries from the bullets because he stopped them just in time but Victor is overusing his Evol, and it’s gradually taking a toll on his body. Even back before MC crossed over to the Winter World, Victor was trying to find other alternative ways for MC to live and not sacrifice herself. Unfortunately, there were none. He did also suffer immense pain whenever he time traveled, especially when it led to his time travel pocket watch cracking and breaking in the end.

Victor would normally be practical and very principled in how he executes his plans, but this time around, it was him. This- he- was the plan. That's it. This is similar to how Victor opened a time rift to send MC away in Chapter 18- to somewhere and sometime in space. He waited for her to come back with the help of the Time Observers to confirm her safety. Only someone with his powerful Evol could do that, otherwise they’d risk losing consciousness in the “Time Rift”.

Additionally, he held onto that hope that MC could and would be saved in the end, like how he tried to find her for 17 years after the orphanage incident, not knowing whether she was dead or alive. Victor wants to wield that control, denying “helplessness” and “winning all the bets” he had with MC prior to her “death” in Chapter 18. Victor stated that if she couldn’t trust herself, then she should trust him and his decisions to protect her. Even if it’s detrimental to his health. Life-threatening, even. Because in the end, Victor knows he will always win. He just does.

And since he knows that he won’t be able to stop MC from doing what she wants, we now see him fully embracing then acting upon it. He accepts that she’s her own person and he has grown to have so much faith in her, seeing how she successfully survived Winter World then coming back home safe. It’s almost like- “okay. It’s you and me against the world”.

On the sidelines, Time observer and ZERO both observe, surprised that Victor will pay such a high price to avoid MC’s death from occurring- with the risk of his own. Could they have lost their most powerful time Evolver from this incident?

Though, we shouldn’t be surprised that the Time Observers think that Victor would be so foolish to use his Evol up to the point where it would actually kill him just to save MC. It's literally in their name- “Observers''- they haven’t and aren’t even allowed to actively participate in the events that happened in Loveland, let alone the different histories and worlds that existed, other than claiming to “correct it” by influencing other people who can. They don’t appear to have this kind of empathy in understanding Victor and why he wants to save MC’s life, or how important she is to him.

“You misunderstand. We never alter, we are correctors of history. We want you to join us, your power’s scope of influence has already surpassed the dimension of this current world. Before you are rejected by it…”

Victor: “I will not leave this world.”

“Even if you’ve seen the future of what is all to pass?”

Victor: “No matter what happens, the person I’m seeking for is right here.” -Black Curtain: Chapter 6

Also taken from my Time Observer Analysis-

Since Victor’s Evol is strong and has the capability to do more than “observe” like the Time Observers, he is the one who is deemed the most suitable and more responsible for “grasping the time in the past and the future”. Ever since STF found out about Victor’s Evol, they wanted him to cooperate with them too. Every time he stops time, certain surrounding energy and space changes.

The organisation also entertains the idea of fate, and how things should be refused to be changed. Since they have “seen the future of how the world ends”, they want Victor to cooperate with them in making it stop. Nobody can rewrite the ending among them, except him. Victor refuses to join because he doesn’t adhere to this idea.

“QUEEN’s return has brought unexpected consequences; the entire collapse of the world is ahead of schedule. The world’s line has come to an end, no matter through time or space, we can no longer interfere in this world.” Was there a difference in letting each world go to the end alone to close all the world lines in the future directly? Although we found a breakthrough, this situation really caused us a lot of headaches: she who should not have survived and she should not have been sent to other worlds. As a result, it would seriously interfere and disrupt the timeline. No one had done it before, and no one except Victor could do it.

In disbelief, we weighed it and threw the olive branch- as long as he is willing to cooperate, we will help him find her. As decisive as he was to refuse a few times before, this time he had promised me without thinking. And for a moment, I didn’t know if his decisiveness was good or bad. -Chapter 33-34 Rumours and Secrets

Victor "travelling ten-thousand years in the future" was mentioned in his Chapter 35-36 Rumours and Secrets. The Space and Time Administration (who the Time Observers were under) could "repair his abilities", after he stopped the bullets from hitting MC. He would have to stay there for the Space and Time Administration's time duration of ten-thousand years. Victor accepts. (BIG THANKS TO @cheri-cheri FOR CORRECTING ME LAST MINUTE WITH THIS ONE, YOU AMAZING HUMAN!!)