#the way I am physically not able to wake up early if I know I don't have school

[kraro-school-life]

✦ 1. 5. 24 ✦ 📓 ✦ Wednesday ✦ Day 26/60 ✦

✓ school - planned out the remaining time to my exams. (I have less time than I thought :/ But it was really helpful to see it all sketched out, a small reality check) ✦ art // ✦ sport //

Today I slept until like 11am, went to a friends birthday party and got home late(ish). It was a nice day, really.

But then I came home and at first I started to beat myself up about how I´m not going to be able to study a lot. But then I thought: why feel bad about the things you could've done (if sacrificed something else), when you can focus on the smaller things you can do to still progress? Like the timeplan. It isn´t huge but it will help me significantly in the future.

The feeling of small progress is kinda new to me, but I think it's great.

🌱🌿🪴 - 23min on Forest ♫₊˚.🎧 ▷▷ Dreaming Girl - Xdinary Heroes

[nexus-nebulae]

damn i actually had a pretty good streak there of not having bad insomnia days. that's pretty impressive for me like i haven't really had one since early January

[alvojake]

The Murder House | Masterlist & Intro ⏃

↳ this is inspired by an ask from the lovely @addictedtohobi

「parings」 : enha x fem!reader

「synopsis」 : it was halloween season once again, and your brother begged you and your friends to go to this new hit escape room that just came into town; the only problem? you hated going to them almost as much as you hated waking up early in the morning. however, being the good friend and sister you were you went with them. you expected cheesy props, dumb riddles and questions, and a rigged room, so you couldn't get out even if you got the right answers. what you weren't expecting was being drugged and waking up in a room with a dead body and separated from all of your friends.

「genre」 : horror/thriller, gore, angst, psychological thriller, mystery

「warnings」 : MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, heavy gore, blood, murder, mentions of suicide, cussing, death, manipulation, mentions of being drugged, toxic behavior, reader is speculated to be an 03' liner, trauma bonding, other specific warnings on individual parts.

𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆

「taglist」 : CLOSED

↳ a/n: I have decided to make this into a short series because I just know trying to write one long fic won't suffice, so I am making it into separate parts! I am super excited to see what you guys think so far and to hear all of your theories. don't forget to read the intro at the bottom!! I will be figuring out release dates for all of the parts at a later time, but they will all be subject to change depending on multiple factors! also, if you were on the taglist located on the wip post, then you are still on there, so don't worry! with that being said you will only be added to the taglist if you are 18+ and your age is visible on your page. if you don't meet either of those criteria, you will be ignored.

「start」 : May 8th, 2024 「end」 : TBD

「synopsis」 : after waking up trapped in a room with a dead body, you are saved by none other than heeseung, but you're still left with questions. why were you and your friends trapped there, and who is behind it all? though it would seem that you won't be getting your answers very easily and definitely not without a few losses. 「word count」 : 10.2k 「warnings」 : blood, dead body, cussing, mentions of murder, mind games, drugging, mentions of mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, etc...), jungwon is kinda reckless, lmk if I missed anything! 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : with everyone's lives on the line will luck be on your side? except it seems like whoever trapped you here doesn't plan on letting any of you leave that easy... suspicion is rising and trust is starting to falter, but can you save everyone and bust whoever put you and your friends through this hell? or will you have to watch all of your friends die? 「word count」 : 11.3k 「warnings」 : cussing, spiders/bugs, water, blood, mentions of betrayal, arguments, mentions of claustrophobia & arachnophobia/entomophobia, mentions of spider venom, life or death situations, more mind games, mental health disorders (anxiety, panic attacks, breakdowns, etc...), (some tags will be hidden as to not spoil the story!) 「release date」 : read here

「synopsis」 : everything seems to be going downhill at a rapid pace and nothing is going right and you've already suffered the loss of two friends, but the mastermind behind this doesn't seem to be satisfied just yet. another test is thrown your way but things are starting to become more clear and you're realizing that the culprit has been with you the whole time... but will you be able to stop him and escape this hell house with your lives intact? 「word count」 : est. 10k+ (current : 3.1k) 「warnings」 : cussing, even more 'games', blood, violence, gore, gun goes pew pew, poisoning, betrayal, gaslighting, familial issues, mentions of abuse (mental & physical), knife goes stabby, threats, death, obsessive/stalker-ish behavior, mental health disorders, even more betrayal, traumatic events, police, (will add more as I write) 「release date」 : est. between jun 7th-10th

“Come on, y/n. We never get the chance to do this!” Riki whined as he draped his taller frame over your back, causing you to slouch forward. You let out an annoyed huff, letting your hands fall to your lap. Your phone slid from your fingers as you tilted your head to look back at your brother.

“Riki, how many times have I told you that I hate going to things like that?” You pushed back against him, causing the boy to fall dramatically back on the couch. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your discarded phone off the ground, Riki watching you with a pout.

“You watch too many horror movies,” he grumbled, remembering all the nights you would watch horror movies only to have some new-found fear afterward, even if it was something completely unnecessary.

You dropped your phone once more before glaring up at your brother, “ya know, there is always some truth to them.”

“y/n, please. They are just movies. Complete fiction. Ghosts aren’t real.” Riki rolled his eyes, picking at the loose strings of the couch cushion. 

“Even rumors stem from some kind of truth, Riki.” You huffed out, but it didn’t seem like your brother would stop pestering you until you finally gave in. So after hours of continuously asking and begging, you finally gave in to him, telling him that you would ask your friends only if he brought his own.

And he agreed.

When that dreadful night finally came, you were stuck in a car with all of your friends. The crisp October air was cold on your skin, but the heating in the vehicle that Jay had turned on was enough to leave you comfortable. Jake had some random playlist filling the speakers jamming out in the passenger seat while Jungwon, Sunghoon, and Heeseung were crammed into the far back of the SUV, all three on the brink of passing out from how long the drive was.

“I thought you said this place was in town, Riki.” You grumbled, flexing your jaw, trying to ease the discomfort from having it placed on your hand as you stared mindlessly out the car window. However, now that it was fully dark outside, there wasn’t much to look at, seeing that there were no streetlights.

“I mean, the address said it was in town; how was I supposed to know it was in the ass crack of it?” Riki sassed as he scrolled through his phone, looking at whatever was posted on social media.

“Language, dude.” Jay scolded the boy, his eyes staring at him through the rearview mirror.

“Korean, what else?”

Pursing your lips, you reached over and landed a smack on the back of his head, resulting in him letting out a groan as his head fell forward.

“What was that for?!” Riki exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head as he looked over at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t be such a smart ass.” You scolded him, and Riki grumbled before showing Sunoo something on his phone. 

Shaking your head, you lean forward, resting your arms on the back of Jay’s seat, “How much longer do we have to go?”

Jay quickly glanced at you from the rearview mirror, much like he did Riki, before glancing down at the GPS on his dash.

"It's saying we have about ten or so minutes left until we get there." He told you before putting his eyes back on the road. 

It was then that you started to notice just how desolate the surrounding area was. If this was such a hit attraction, why weren't any other cars around? Or any kind of sign of life. It was starting to give you the creeps. However, you just reminded yourself that you were doing this for your brother and that it was probably just your imagination playing tricks on you. So you just tried to relax, sitting back in your seat once more, eyes staring out at the blackness of the trees.

That feeling of unease only grew more once Jay pulled into the driveway, and you noticed that there wasn’t a single car in sight. You pulled your seatbelt off slowly, eyes searching everywhere, trying to find anything to settle this unnerving feeling that was twisting in your gut. As you opened the door, welcoming the chilling air outside, goosebumps littered your skin.

“Come on, y/n, get out. My legs are cramping!” Riki complained, pushing on your shoulder and urging you to leave the vehicle.

With a shaky sigh, you slowly let your foot fall to the ground, your knees feeling like jelly. Jay stepped out of the car, pocketing the keys before looking over at you. His eyebrows scrunched together, taking in the uneasy expression on your face.

“Hey, y/n, are you okay?” he asked, softly taking your arm and pulling you away from the open door so everyone else could pile out. 

“Yeah, it’s just…” You trailed on as your eyes caught sight of the small sign that was hammered into the ground.

The Murder House

You could have sworn that you felt your heart stop. What kind of douchebag names their escape room that? As if the air around you wasn’t suffocating enough, seeing that only made it feel like you were fighting for your breath.

“Sunoo, you’re in the back on the way home.” Heeseung groans as he stretches out, his joints groaning in protest. Sunoo just gave the older male the side eye before moving to stand on the other side of Jake, who had just gotten out of the car.

“Riki, I thought you said this was a hit attraction.” You looked over at your brother, who was inspecting the area much like you were until his eyes landed on you. “Why is there no one here?”

“Calm your tits, sis. I’m sure we just came on a night that no one else wanted to?” He rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, that just means we won’t get stuck with some randos.” Heeseung shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Come on, y'know, we didn't come all this way just to chicken out," Jungwon grumbled, tossing his hair with his fingers.

You curled your lips inward, knowing that they were right and that you were just thinking too much about the situation. Crossing your arms over your chest, you nodded your head in silent agreement. Jay wrapped his arm around your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze, ignoring the prying eyes that were on the two of you.

“Don’t let it get to you too much, okay? We’ll just get it over with, and if anything, we just let the timer go out.” He whispered softly in your ear, and the warmth of his breath eased your mind slightly. 

“You’re right, I’m just overthinking.” You gave him a small smile before following after him and the others.

“God damn, Riki, why did we have to walk all the way up here?” Sunghoon huffed as all of you reached the steps of the porch.

You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing he was right because that was a pretty lengthy walk uphill. All of the guys nodded in agreement before Jake walked further up the step, trying to see if you were able to get in. He then noticed a welcome sign hanging from the door, with a small basket underneath holding a piece of paper.

“It looks like we got some instructions, boys and girls,” Jake exclaimed with a broad smile, turning with the paper held high.

You looked at him uneasily as he unfolded it with a flourish and started reading it out loud so everyone could hear.

‘You will have two hours to uncover the grand mystery and escape the murder house. You will find clues and puzzles, but be careful, for everything isn’t as it seems… Good luck!’

A shiver ran down your spine as he finished reading. You weren't sure whether it was the chilling breeze that swept through or the cryptic words of the note. However, you did know that it wasn't just your mind messing with you; there was something deeply wrong with this place.

“Hey guys, this seems really weird. Maybe we should just go.” You voiced your concern, earning yourself a collection of groans from the guys.

“Oh, come on, y/n. Stop being such a negative Nancy and have some fun for once in your life.” Jake rolled his eyes, his hands falling to his side.

Your jaw clenched shut, and a glare adorned your features before you leaned forward, snatching the paper out of his hands.

“You’re such an asshole, Jake.” The words tumbled out quietly as you reread the same message that Jake had just read aloud, trying to see if there was anything else that he had missed.

“Yeah, yeah.” The brunette rolled his eyes before going on to complain about how thirsty he was and how he was sure that they would have drinks for sale or something inside. Then, without another word, he opened the door despite the multiple protests from you and a few others. 

“Jake, you can’t just walk in like you own the place!” You exclaim, hands slapping against your thighs as he disappears around the corner.

Letting out a huff, you step past the threshold, trying to shake off the eerie feeling that started to settle into your bones before going in the direction you saw Jake go, everyone trailing after you.

You walked into the foyer with a groan as you saw the older male chugging down a water bottle, some of it trickling down his chin before catching on his shirt. Your eyes then trail over to a tray that sat in the center of the table, six other bottles neatly placed inside.

“Jake, you can’t just take shit that’s not yours!” You scolded him, which only caused him to stop drinking, a gasp leaving his lips as he pulled the bottle away.

Riki then walked past you, looking down at the table and seeing some kind of note. Taking it, he held it up so everyone could see.

Free refreshments!

“The host probably just sat them out for people to take.” Riki shrugged, setting the paper back down on the table before grabbing a bottle for himself. 

Your stomach turned as you watched him unscrew the cap, “we can’t just trust drinks that are given to us by some random strangers.”

Heeseung then moves past you, his arm brushing yours, before grabbing one of the bottles. He inspected it for a few seconds before meeting your gaze.

"It's still sealed; there's no way someone tampered with it," he explained before twisting the cap open and swallowing a few drinks.

“Weren’t you the one complaining about being thirsty in the car?” Riki raised an eyebrow at you, and you just rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, but-” “But what, just drink the water, it’s not like you’re gonna die.” Riki quipped, causing your jaw to tighten. You knew he was right; you had been complaining about not bringing an extra drink for the road, but you weren’t quite sure if you were thirsty enough to drink some random water given out by a stranger. However, the dry feeling in your throat was telling you otherwise, so with some hesitation, you took the bottle Jay was handing you before twisting the cap off and bringing it to your lips; the liquid instantly quenched your dying thirst. 

After everyone got a much-needed drink, they all needed you all gathered around the coffee table. You, Heeseung, and Jay were on the long couch while Sunoo, Niki, and Jake cramped on the loveseat, leaving the armchair for Sunghoon, Jungwon perched on the armrest. 

“So… when does this game start?” Sunoo asked, leaning forward so his arms rested on his knees. Looking around, you couldn’t help but notice that the room was neatly decorated and clean, yet there was no sign of anyone being there.

Heeseung then leaned forward to grab something sitting on the table, catching everyone’s attention. He flipped it around, trying to find any indication of what it was, but nothing was written on the outside, so he opened the flap and pulled out the papers inside.

“It’s more instructions,” he explains as he starts to read them aloud. It says that as soon as the… the… sorry, I just feel really lightheaded.” He mumbles, shaking his head while squeezing his eyes shut, trying to stabilize his vision.

"Hee man, are you good?" Jay asked, putting a hand on the older male's shoulder, and Heeseung just nodded.

“Yeah, I just…” Heeseung’s words slurred as he started to sway, his eyes drooping. 

Panic started to set in your chest as you noticed that Heeseung looked like he was on the brink of passing out. Just then, Jungwon slumped to the side, falling right into Sunghoon’s lap, causing him to start calling out the boy’s name.

You quickly stood to your feet to check on him, but you fell back into your seat just as soon as you stood, your vision swimming. However, as you looked around, you noticed that all of the boys were either slumped over or on the brink of passing out. 

Worry then etched itself into your bones when your hazy vision landed on your brother's motionless form. You opened your mouth to call out for him and tried to get your body to move, but it wouldn't respond, and no words left your lips. Then everything seemed to fade, and your body grew weaker and weaker until you fell to the side, your head resting against Jay's back before everything went black.

Your body shot up with a gasp, and your ears rang so loud you could have thought it was coming from some kind of speaker. However, as it started to die down to a dull shrill, you realized that it was just you.

Looking around, you felt a chill run down your spine. You couldn’t see a thing. The room was shrouded in darkness, with not a single light in sight. Panic then started to set in as the earlier events started to play in your head. 

Where was your brother? Or your friends? What caused you all to black out?

So many questions started filling your brain, some overlapping others as you fumbled to get to your feet. You blinked multiple times, trying to fully stabilize your vision and to see in the darkness.

A scream escaped from your lips as you tripped over something, landing in some kind of liquid. Your heartbeat roared in your ears as you hurriedly tried to get to your feet, the ringing in your ears growing louder.

Scrambling to your feet, you reach out in front of you, trying to find the wall, and as soon as you do, you start searching for the light switch. With shaky hands, you felt around the wall until you felt the switch. Letting out a relieved sigh, you flipped it, allowing the room to flood with light.

You looked up with a smile before remembering that your hands were still covered in whatever you had fallen into. Your gaze then fell down to your hands, only for the smile to be wiped away and your eyes to go wide.

Blood. Your palms were covered in blood.

Your stomach turns the urge to throw up very strong; dread then fills your veins as you slowly turn around. A high-pitched scream leaves your lips as your eyes are set upon the body of a man, blood pooling all around him.

Fear clouded your brain as you quickly turned back around to open the door. Rushing over to the wooden door, you wrapped your hands around the knob, hoping that it would turn. But it didn’t.

The door was locked, and you were trapped.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[blkgirl-writing]

The massive list of SFW and NSFW Gale Dekarios headcanons

Gale of Waterdeep x Reader (Gn! for the most part)

A/N: the more I write Gale, the more in love with him I am. I started this before patch 5 and haven't been able to play it myself, so whoopsies if I just have to make another one of these. Lots of requests included in this one, to be expanded on later!

Gale is the most caring partner in the whole group. Followed by karlach and Wyll

He would much rather do everything for you than anything for him

This means he often over extends himself for you and you have to convince him to let you help him

Quality time and words of affirmation are his main love languages. All he wants is time alone with you, and he will do so much to make that happen

Gale actually sets up his tent to be as comfortable as possible because you don't have your own tent, and he doesn't mind at all if you sleep in his

eventually you basically just sleep in his tent exclusively, platonically at the moment. Sleeping on other sides or with a blanket between you

It isn't until you wake up from a particularly bad nightmare that your accidental touches aren't followed by apologies. Not quite embracing but not flinching away

He held you that night, wrapping his arms around you, his hands were big, soft, and comforting. He didn't speak until you did, who knows how long that was. All he said was "You're safe. It's ok."

────⊱⁜⊰────

He truly believes he doesn’t deserve you and that weighs kind of heavy on him

That shows in his body movements, confidence, still hesitant to be close to you physically in an extremely subtle way

With more flirting, more talking, more late nights close together, but still apart, still a gap in your embrace

Gale is still in touch with his sexuality and sex, but sex is different than love making. And he knew, when he fully let you in, when he’s finally stable and his mind, body, and soul were ready, he’d make love to you

Your first time together was for the most part, pretty talked through. You set your boundaries and safe word pretty fast

He’d stop at some point, pull back and just admire you

Stop is used lightly because he’s definitely still inside you and just very slowly still pumping in and out of you

“You’re absolutely ravishing.”

And he’d give himself fully to you

Gods he’d be all over you after, so touchy, even if not sexual in nature, any tough felt electric

Gale holds your waist more than your hand, it feels more romantic, showing you off to the world as someone that chose him. It’s really sweet, the first time he does it, he hand trembled a bit, he thought he was smooth enough for you not to tell but you could definitely feel it

Don’t get me wrong, he is confident and cocky at times, everyone knows that. But with you somehow, he feels nervous that you deserve more than he could give

Part of your early relationship is making sure he knows he’s wanted and loved and more than anything you could have wished for

────⊱⁜⊰────

Cuddling is always fun because it usually end up with fucking

If you’re the big spoon? He becomes such an angel and snuggles into your touch

If he’s big spoon he’s immediately turned on by everything, you being so close into him, your ass pressed against him, so many beautiful places for him to touch

Always ends in side fucking, just pulling your underwear down just enough to grind his cock on your bare ass

It’s also just convenient and easy if you’re getting busy while the others are sleeping in camp

But many days your time has you weak and just ready for rest, but you're both more horny than tired

that's when mutual masturbation becomes a daily routine, which never really leaves, even when you aren't as tired and have more privacy

he likes you call you his cherished work of art, seeing you spread for him is like a painting

────⊱⁜⊰────

One night in baldurs gate, you stay up into the morning drinking and talking in a bar, they only kicked you out when they literally were an hour last close, keeping it open because you had bought so much

It was literally anything, just talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Past pets, stupid haircuts growing up, embarrassing failures

That was the night everyone else really realized how deeply in love you two were

Like sure there was romance but real true love, with sparks

They absolutely made fun of you when you finally stumbled to your camp and passed out all day crammed into the small one person beds

I like to believe Astarion drew a stick figure version of y’all’s sleeping position to make fun of you when you woke

────⊱⁜⊰────

Once you’ve moved in with him he gets more and more turned on by you every day

You could be doing nothing and he’d grab your thigh and give you such a dirty look of lust

Not even three months in and ya'll have fucked on every surface possible, knocked over many books, and accidentally broke a vase and a bit in the shower

For the most part, your cozy days consist of him reading, and you beside him, feet resting on his lap

If you're a bard, of course he's going to ask you to practice and play around him and while you relax together, his favorite sounds all come from your sweet melodies

if you drink you definitely share a bottle of wine throughout the day

When Gale get's tipsy he just gets lovey and nerdy

telling you about a favorite bit of history or a spell, interrupting himself to compliment you "Gods you're beautiful, have I told you that today, dear?" and "And that's how the stars fell in love with- that top is stunning my love, mind if I take it off?"

cooking is fun yet very stressful unless he has a drink in hand

it's his kitchen and he's not used to company in it, so he often bumps into you or doesn't know where to say something is, so he just ends up getting it for you

I have a feeling this man is super into coffee and the roasts

like he's an absolute snob over it. A whole glass cupboard is dedicated to bags of coffee from where ever he travels

"Just too dark of a roast, it muddies the hazelnut flavor" (yes I believe he's a whole bean light roast lover)

Maybe you get a normal, non-speaking cat for yourself and just to have a bigger family in your home

I'd imagine a very reckless black or ginger cat who tara takes a VERY long time to love

but it's your and Gales cat. It's a thing you own together and love dearly

There's also a self of cards, board games, etc, for your date nights in

Gale legitimately is just as happy if you win than if he, if not more happy for you

He often takes a while to take his turn because he's distracted by you

super sweet but makes games feel much longer

────⊱⁜⊰────

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

[euaphoric]

・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ・ ゜

✩‧₊˚ pairing — jungkook x f!reader (established relationship) ✩‧₊˚ warnings — fluff, very suggestive but no actual sm*t in this, cute kissing & cuddling hhh, oc is called “little girl” like once

another 4 am post, im on a roll w these hehe >:3 but i just wanted something to post for my bday (even tho this nothing to do w birthdays?? LMAO) and i can’t get this damn live out of my head like he’s fckung inssne sffdsgsh n e ways this is lowk corny but enjoy lol.

the faint sounds of birds chirping awoke you from your nightly slumber, eyes fluttering open to your wide awake boyfriend scrolling on his phone. he seemed to be very focused on whatever he was watching, wondering how long he’s been awake for. you prop yourself up slowly on your elbows, barely able to move a muscle from feeling sore by last night’s events. you two can go at it for hours at a time - you forgot how much of a real workout it is being on top. it’s impossible so hard to resist him though, you love that jungkook has just as much of an insanely high libido as you, literal match made in heaven.

waking up to him everyday already felt like a blessing in itself honestly. he was the epitome of perfection; in only a pair of boxers, staring at his chiseled figure, toned biceps, those muscles?? yeah you were beyond down bad for him. but he was just as down bad (debatably more) for you too. your raging hormones were really getting the best of you. your first thoughts were to violently make out with him but instead you settle for some sweet cuddles right now, coming closer to nuzzle in his bare chest. “g’mornin’ sleepyhead.” jungkook mumbles, averting his attention to you instead of the screen. “took you long enough to wake up!” his arms went to cage around your form. “what time is it babe?” you ask, a slight yawn slips out, still feeling groggy.

“7 am.” “wait- really?!” you were so confused, you weren’t expecting it to be this early since usually you don’t wake up until around 10 or 11. “yeah, i didn’t get much sleep though.” his soothing touch runs down your back, pressing delicate kisses to your forehead. this was home to you; feeling his warmth against you, listening to his hums as he cradles you, never wanting to leave his embrace. you were living rent free in your boyfriend’s arms 24/7.“hmm, what should we do today?” you ask, peeking your head out a bit. “dunno… why don’t we just stay in and watch some anime?” his lips proceed to attack your face, pecking kisses all over until you’re physically sick of it. unable to utter a single word out from all the smothering, you just let him do as he pleases.

“but we do that everyday already koob.” you finally get to say once he comes up for air. “and? i see no objection here.” god he can be so stubborn at times… “c’monn, we should go do something today..” you pout, feeling bratty over his unwillingness to be social. you love staying in bed and binge watching shows with him but for some unknown reason you wanted to be adventurous today. “actually, i know what i wanna do today.” he smirks, biting his lip at you. of course, he only wants to stay inside because he’s horny-_-

you let out a tiny scoff, “ugh, perv!” nothing he says should ever surprise you anymore but it’s still fun to tease him. “only for you though.” he chuckled, pulling you back in but this time plants a wet kiss to your lips, “truthfully i just want you all for myself.” his hand brings your leg over to wrap around his waist. “such a selfish boy.” you tease some more, combing the disheveled strands of his silky hair. “mhm mhmm, that’s me.” he proudly admits, he acts very territorial over what’s his and would def gatekeep you from everyone if he could, no one deserves to see his precious bb but him:( “i’m still hella sore from yesterday, i don’t know if i feel like doing anything right now.” you timidly reply, butterflies forming in your tummy as he casually traces circles to your thigh. his eyebrows furrowed, “who said you had to do anything?”

he catches you off guard when suddenly his body shifts underneath, positioning you to be below him while hovering over you. when leaning in he stops midway to stare and admire your pretty lips, wanting so badly for them to be on his. he closes the distance to finally kiss you, giving you a million more butterflies as your body sinks into the mattress. you can sense all the passion and longing from just kissing him, it’s desperate yet filled with fervor, you feel his love immensely. when he gnaws your lower lip as entry, it becomes more heated - a full-on make out sesh occurs. fingers all tangled up in his locks while he caresses your upper body, lips moving perfectly in sync with one another. soon as you wrapped your legs around him a switch goes off in his brain, he needs you, like expeditiously. jungkook sneaks his hands up to your arms when he breaks away, pinning them above your head, you don’t know why but your first reaction was to giggle which puzzles him. “what’s so funny hm? keep thinking i’m playing little girl, i’ll have you begging we stay in.” he remarks, eyes shading darker as he doesn’t find any of this to be a laughing matter. “koo i-” he quickly cuts you off with another breathless kiss.

“shh, just lay back and relax pretty, let me do all the work for you.”

[the-orange-tabby-cat]

Wednesday

joel miller x fem!reader

Summary of the fic: For the last 5 years, every Wednesday you watched a handsome man walk by your street with a lilac bouquet in hands. Except he doesn't stroll on your street this Wednesday, he shows up at your grief support group. 🐾

read on AO3 | masterlist | previous chapter Warnings: No outbreak AU, Grief and its implications, Reader lost her mom, Reader's mom has a name (but no physical description), Group therapy, Grief support group, Parent grief, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Fluff, No use of y/n Word count of the chapter: 3,7k

A/N: For the longest time I've thought "What if Joel lost Sarah anyway?" and this became the answer to this question. I have no clue about how big this series will be, but I do know I want to explore grief and loss with these two in the most delicate way possible. Hope you enjoy it 🐾

I. LILAC

Coffee. Sketchbook. Balcony. Five years of waking up early on Wednesdays, grabbing a cup of coffee, and sitting near the railings to wait for him. Like a clock, at 8 am sharp he appears by the street corner with a lilac bouquet under his arm. 

His strong profile will be the only thing in your vision for a few minutes as he walks by. You drew it so many times that you could do it with your eyes closed. The man will walk by at a steady pace without looking around (brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t fuck with me” kind of sign), focused on his way down the street.

Tall, dark hair and a patchy beard with a square jaw… He is dreamy, but also out of reach. Where is he going? Why the lilacs? Are they for a woman, his wife maybe? Every Wednesday at 8 am, never a minute late, both he and you.

As you took a sip of your coffee, you glanced over the watch marking 7:58 am, he would be here any minute. You prepared the table in expectancy, what outfit would he be wearing today? You hoped for the green shirt, but the blue one wouldn’t be as bad.

7:59 am. His hair is a little overgrown now, but you like the way his curls frame his face. The broadness of his shoulders and how tall he looks next to the other pedestrians. You aren’t sure of the color of his eyes from afar, maybe green or brown.

8:01 am and no signal of him. This is a first. Maybe you mistook the day of the week, check your phone, and… No, Wednesday still. You squirm in your seat, impatiently looking for him. 8:07 am, he never got so late. Should you keep waiting? You don’t even know his name.

At 8:30 am you give up. A wave of melancholy fills the air. Oh god, be for fucking real, are you really sad because a strange man and his stupid lilacs didn’t walk down your street?

“Don’t forget: 9 am at the gate”, you reread your grandpa's text. 

You couldn’t be able to forget it, but deep down wish you could avoid it. Cemeteries aren’t your thing, the constant reminder of the death surrounding you. However, they are Grandpa’s way of dealing with it and who are you to judge?

The sketchbook is opened at the last page you drew, with the man staring in front of him fully angered. How did you end up with over 200+ drawings of a man you never met? The doctor said finding a hobby would help and so you did: drawing. “You see what no one else sees”, your mom used to say and you decided to take a test. Too bad your eyes landed on a strange man walking down the street, holding on tightly to a lilac bouquet. Even worse he had been doing the same path for five years right in front of your balcony.  The only things in your sketchbook are his face, his hands, and the bouquet. This is your third one since you kept running out of pages.

As you put the sketchbook away, your mind drifted away to your mother’s (possible) commentary. “Don’t be silly, he will come by later, I’m sure something happened” and she, most likely, would be right. She was always right. 8:50 am and with your chest tightened from “talking” to her inside your mind, your feet landed at the cemetery’s gate.

“No flowers? Really? Who raised you, pigs?”, your grandpa said narrowing his eyes at you.

He, of course, was an impeccable mess in his hat, black coat, thin-framed glasses that gave him a Bond villainesque look. In his rugged hands a white rose bouquet, carefully made and held by.

“If I remember right, and I do remember it, we are talking about the same woman who said that flowers are for the living, not the dead.” He rolled his eyes in response but in good fun. “Why the flowers then?”

“My biggest mistake was to raise a woman a little too avant-garde, wasn’t it? C’mon, we don’t have the whole day,” he deep sighed while showing you the way. 

You knew the path, but your feet seemed to avoid getting there, that’s why you followed Grandpa’s steps in the hope of not turning around and leave. It was a little ritualistic if you were honest: Grandpa would have some kind of gift in his hands that he would leave at the tombstone, and you would pretend to do not care as you deeply cared about it. She wasn’t there anymore, she hadn’t been for a long time.

Behind his glasses, you could see a lost man driven by grief. His hands shaking as he cleaned her name at the tombstone, the gaze avoiding yours. He would always wear black on cemetery days, as if the time never passed and it was the first visit yet.

“Want to go first?” He asked, you sighed in response. “Don’t know why I still ask.”

“It’s… Fine. You know she was a Buddhist, right? She believed in reincarnation. I feel a little silly talking to her,” you confessed while chewing the lip corners.

“Oh, trust me: I knew her the same amount as you, maybe even more. She was my daughter, for fuck’s sake.” Startled, you looked at him in shock at the rare occasion he would curse. Shit. “I’m not here because of her beliefs or lifestyle. Do you quote her inside your head? Because I do too, I too remember every small detail of her. I’m here because it’s how I tell myself she isn’t fully gone. So sorry if I’m too old-fashioned and feel like talking a few words at my daughter's tombstone with my grandaughter who, honestly? Could show a little more love towards her right now. I want to talk with her like we used to at the kitchen table on Sundays, I want to bring her flowers just like I did on her birthday and there is no Buddha, Allah, or a flying horse that can stop me. Now, can you open your fucking mouth and say something nice to your mom about your week?”

Silence took the space for a second before you simply replied with, “Better?”

“Yes, a lot. Thank you for asking, now go on, please.” He adjusted his hat and cleared his throat. You hummed, getting a little courage to look directly at the tombstone.

“Hum. I got a new couch last week, a velvety green one. A little too sexy, if I might, but you would probably say I need something sexy to attract someone even sexier. Am I rambling?” You asked, raising your eyes from the stone, but he made a motion for you to continue it. “Let me think, oh, the cat hunted a pigeon. It was somewhat disgusting because of the amount of feathers in my apartment…”

“Did the pigeon survive?” He asked, in his eyes with a slight curiosity.

“Yes, but by a thread. It was her cat, a little savage just like her!”

The conversation went on easily after it. Grandpa had found some old notebooks of your mom, including one with a cake recipe he would later send to you. You wouldn’t tell him, it did feel better not because you were speaking to her, but because you could watch him relax in his uptight perpetual state. In the blink of an eye, your mind wandered to the strange man and if he ever relaxed like that.

Grief is a strange thing. It took a little encouragement from your therapist and the need to move on, but you had started to go to weekly meetings of a grief support group at the local church (the only thing that made you enter that space). The first months were awkward, you went but avoided it at the same time. Slowly, it grew on you. Five years of not missing a single Wednesday, even on vacation.

Your grandpa tried once, but it just wasn’t for him. He didn’t want to move on or find a meaning for it, he needed to feel his grief as second skin. You needed it to stop suffocating you, to scream and shout about that weight in the hope of someone taking it from your back.

This Wednesday wasn’t any different. You entered the church's back door with some cookies in hand, even if you were well aware that most people couldn’t eat as they exposed their pain, it was more of a sweet gesture than a necessity. The white walls and the cross in front of you completed the scenario.

“Cookies? You never eat anything,” Henry questioned while taking a bite. His dark eyes staring suspiciously at you.

“My grandpa found an old cookie recipe from my mom. How does it taste?” You replied as you watched him bite. You couldn’t bear to try it first, too anxious about it.

“Your mom was definitely a writer, not a chef. Taste like an old sock.” His face contorted as he spat out the cookie. Well, you tried something new.

“Yeah, no wonder I survived out of Lucky Charms and BTLs.” Henry laughed as you let go of your shoulder’s tension a bit.

The grief support group had grown and shrunk over the years. Sometimes people would feel good enough to leave the support, those were the lucky ones: grief was a period of their life, not an everyday thing. In other cases, they would get too depressed and leave before making some actual change in their being. You, unfortunately, were addicted to bond with the pain part of it.

Well, you and them. Henry was the first you met, totally wrecked after losing his little brother, Sam, to leukemia. He almost left college due to the weight of grief but kept it together, you even went to his graduation a few years back. 

Tess came later. First, her kid died and then, in a stroke of bad luck, she found out she had a terminal disease that would, eventually, kill her. She wasn’t there to deal with the death of others, but her own. She was slowly dying and it was scary as shit. Not that you would know it from the outside, she had more strength (both physically and mentally) than most.

Frank was the group leader, conducting the discussion and creating the safe spaces. Everything you had said while hugging him, no matter how bad, never came back to hunt you. Which was odd on its own, but even odder considering his grumpy husband, Bill, was the exact opposite. Everything you did said in Bill’s direction came back to hunt you right after it came out of your mouth.

People come and go, but you stay there. Grabbing your regular place at the circle, putting the name tag on your shirt, and drinking some water just in case you cry. Except today you have someone new seated across you.

His strong nose and patchy beard hint someone you do know. His square jaw tensed up, brows deeply furrowed in a “don’t talk to me, I want to go home” that you could draw with eyes closed. The name tag reads “Joel”. You were right, his eyes are brown.

It feels weird to look at him without a pen and paper in hand, but it feels just right to see his features up close. Tess brings him coffee - black, you noticed - and gives him an eye silently saying “Don’t fuck it up”.

The meeting starts, Frank asks who is there for the first time. Joel and a woman, Hannah, raise their hands.

“It’s tradition to introduce ourselves at our first meeting. You don’t need to tell the details of why you are here or who you are, just simple information that people can distinguish you from the rest of the group.” Frank explains to a tired Joel, who sighs in response while Hannah overshares who she is.

Of course he doesn’t want to be there. Nobody wants to. You wish you could leave every time you cross the door, but know that the moment the meeting starts to develop you will want to continue in that deep state of pouring your heart out.

“I’m Joel, my friend Tess convinced me to come. That’s it.” He simply states, loud and straight. You catch Frank laughing.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to push you a little on it. Why did you accept to come here?” Joel furrows even deeper at the provocation.

“I didn’t. She trapped me.” Tess raises her very blonde eyebrows at him, who snaps. “You did trap me. Call me saying it was an emergency, I go to your house expecting the worst and you lock me inside there until the time to come here after I said I wouldn’t go to a grief support group.”

“See? He is an asshole, he needs this.” She answers Frank, making sure he gets her points. Your mom was right, something had happened to him.

“So, Joel, why are you here still?” Frank subtly asks.

“I beg your pardon?” Joel’s eyes are softer now, getting caught off guard. He doesn’t have any argument for it.

“Yes Joel, why are you still here? I’m not trapping you in this char, nobody is holding you down.” Tess retorts her mouth in his direction, that scoffs and looks around the room. When his eyes look into yours, you smile coyly unable to retain yourself.

“Sir, please continue.” Accepting defeat, Joel crosses his arms around his chest, fully ignoring Tess's triumphant smile.

“You are free to leave at any point, no need to tell us why. But I guarantee that if you stay, you might learn we aren’t that bad.” Frank nods in his direction, gaining a hard sigh. “Let’s start. Before every meeting, we say out loud the names of those who have gone to allow ourselves to think about them without shame, remorse, or guilt. You know the drill, Henry?”

“Sam,” Henry says firmly.

“Abigail,” you speak loudly.

Another silly little gesture, but you do allow yourself to think about her after it. Every single time. It’s almost as if the weight of her, the one that you carry around all day and pretend isn’t there suffocating you, comes to sit by you, not on you. 

“Teresa,” Tess points at her.

“Sarah,” Joel almost murmurs looking at the ground. His hands are fidgeting, his mind in another place. 

You have been there, you know how strange it is to say it for the first time out loud after a while, sounds forbidden and partly awkward. You aren’t supposed to say it to strangers, it’s sacred just for you, and yet, here you are saying it to whoever wants to share this pain with you.

You wonder if Sarah liked lilac flowers.

Some people speak about how they dealt with grief during the week until Frank asks you how the cemetery visit went. The group knows that meeting your grandpa there gives you a chill up the spine.

“I think I forget that he is allowed to grieve as he needs. I know all these little parts of her, how she lived her life. I’m quick to fight because she isn’t here to defend herself. I’m not even sure she would like for me to defend the memory of who she is… Sorry, was. Of who she was.” You swallow dryly, trying to ignore the miswording. “He bought her flowers. She always said that flowers were for the living, not the dead, and yet, he bought her a bouquet. I got frustrated, felt like he was trying to put her in a box of who he wanted her to be.

“He put me in my place quickly, even said fuck.” Henry makes some noise in surprise, you nod agreeing. “Exactly, it dawned on me: the flowers are for him, not for her. Just like his grief and how he needs to express it is only for himself, not for me to judge. I think he misses her more than he tells me. If I could go back in time, I would have implored him to cremate her and stop this nonsense of going to her grave, checking her tombstone, giving her damn flowers.”

“Maybe the flowers are his way of saying out loud that he cares too. She was his daughter before being your mother.” Joel speaks out loud, getting your full attention. His arms are still crossed, but now his eyes are lost in thought, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it.

“Maybe. I just wish he allowed himself to stop pretending she is still here. I want to think of her without feeling guilty that she isn’t. He is too busy missing her to notice that I’m missing him.” You answer locking eyes with Joel, who chews the corners of his mouth, once again deep in thought.

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to do it, need help.” His voice soft, just like his eyes.

“Maybe.” You give in, feeling that Joel isn’t speaking about your grandpa. You swallow as you remember the lilacs.

The meeting runs smoothly. The group finishes by drinking coffee before parting ways. Frank is chatting by the corner with Joel, who is running a hand by the nape of his neck. Curiosity gets the best of you and, before you can stop, you question Tess.

“Who is Sarah?”

“A million-dollar question, huh?” She teases as she sips her sugary coffee. Henry looks between you two, waiting for a response. “You both haven’t heard from me, I’ll deny til death that I’ve ever said it. His daughter, she died a few years back. He hasn’t been the same since. That motherfucker goes to her grave every fucking Wednesday.”

“He visits her every Wednesday?” The number of drawings of Joel walking down your street early in the morning with a lilac bouquet makes more sense. His face, his fast speed, how he ignored everyone that walked by, how he never noticed you at your balcony.

“Yes, she died on a Wednesday, he relives that event every week since.”

Frank walks in your direction, Joel right behind him looking everywhere, except your face. If he only knew how much you have looked at his face before.

“I recall you haven’t been a mentor yet, right?” Frank starts and you nod, curious about where he is going. “Amazing! You’ll have your first newbie. Joel, you’re in good hands.”

He leaves before you can say anything, whether yes or no. Fuck. Joel is confused as well, still looking like he would rather leave. You open your mouth and go grab your phone.

“Sooooo… How was your first meeting?” Flipping through your phone until find your own number isn’t a good move to show that you are smart, trustful and worthy but right now you only want to avoid his brown eyes.

“Pass.” You blink at him. “I won’t keep chit-chatting. Cut to the chase.”

“Oh damn, I thought you had softened a little with time.” He fights the urge to roll his eyes and you smirk at him, reading him like a book. “I’ll give you my number in case you need someone to talk to. And yes, you can call me anytime you want to. And no, I won’t get your number. You come to me or I won’t come to you.”

That entertains him a little. It was the first rule of your mentor, she made sure you would look for her and not the other way so you could understand when and what triggered you. Joel just nods as he saves your contact.

“When did you first contact your mentor?” He questions, sounding genuine in his curiosity.

“Diet Coke, couldn’t drink.” The furrowed brows are back, so you continue. “My mom would mostly only drink Diet Coke, after she passed away I would buy canes just to open and hear the sizzling. Couldn’t drink otherwise would vomit from stress. It was really hot and I craved one, made that call and drank it.”

“And you drank the whole thing?” His soft eyes are back and you feel a little foolish for thinking that he could have green eyes, not when the dark brown suits him so much.

“Yes and vomited right away. Still, it was worth the shot.” You smile and for a fraction of time, he smiles too.

He doesn’t call right after and neither shows up at the grief support group. You still draw him, but from memory, the last time you watched as he strolled your street it was three months ago. Something about his grief seems too personal and you feel awkward invading that space, instead, every Wednesday at 8 am you find another thing to do. It isn’t as easy as it sounds, ignoring his handsome profile and the lilacs on his hands, but you allow his privacy. 

The only reminder of your favorite habit is the sketchbook at the table and the fresh lilacs decorating your balcony.

Time goes by slowly and too fast, the weight of your mom still at your back as the life surrounding you goes on its course. You almost forget about him until a Wednesday morning, 8 am sharp, your phone chimes and you pick up at the first beep.

“I can’t eat pancakes. I hate pancakes, but she loved it.” He softly says and you stop everything to listen.

“You made from scratch or store-bought?” You phrased it like it is an important question. He hums back on the phone.

“Store-bought, don’t know how to make the batch. She straight up bought only the mix.”

“Would you eat with her, despite not liking it?” Your hand slides the paper, creating his silhouette line after line.

“Yes.” He simply answered, as if it was the most common question in the world.

“What are you waiting for? Take a bite.” 

And he does. The chewing sound from the other side fills the phone, your hand keeps drawing him in his overgrown hair, almost as if you could see the scene right before your eyes.

“So, was it worthed?” You ask looking at the draw as he finishes his plate.

“Still taste disgusting.” He soft replies after a second, you snort and he laughs. The sound is the most delicious thing you’ve ever heard. next chapter

[cherrieflavouredheadcanons]

Hi! 😊 Your rules post was very useful before I send my ask through, thank you for that. If you ever feel inspired for it, may I ask for your thoughts on Wriothesley? It's alright if nothing comes to mind, thank you for taking the time! <333 Have a good day/night!

I am glad you found my rules post helpful! This was written way before his release in 4.1 so things may be OOC now.

Since you didn’t specify what kind of thoughts you wanted I made this into cuddling headcanons, hope that's alright! (I wanted to make these nsfw and not fluff cause y’know…that one handcuff idle but I didn’t know if you wanted that so I went with fluff)

CW: None GN Reader

Wriothesley cuddling headcanons

Due to his occupation his work days are really stressful, and often he is only able to come home very late at night. He told you multiple times that you don’t need to wait up for him and that you should sleep early, but you refuse. You always greet him at the door when he comes home, even if it is 12 at night. 

While he does feel guilty that you stay up late just so you can greet him, he has to admit it makes him feel extra loved. Coming home to be greeted by you as soon as he opens the door helps him melt all the stress of the day off. Though be prepared to be carried to bed by him, he refuses to let you walk up the stairs late at night, especially if you seem really tired. (As a chubby person I will die on the hill that this man can carry anyone regardless of weight) 

Once he lies down in bed with you, he will pull you on top of him, letting you rest your head on his tiddies, i mean his chest. You swear his heartbeat always picks up a bit when you do it, but he always tells you you must be imagining things. 

Wriothesley keeps his arms around you when you two sleep, you may change sleeping positions but he will keep a hold on you in some way. You genuinely don’t know how he does it, especially during nights where you have restless sleep and move a lot. You once asked him about it, and he couldn’t give you an answer simply because he didn’t even realise that he does it.

While he has to wake up early on days he has to work, on his off days he sleeps in for as long as he wants and needs, which will most likely be longer than you sleep. If you try to leave his arms to go to the bathroom or make breakfast he will tighten his grip and grumble something in a half asleep state that you can’t understand. Guess you are trapped until he is ready to let go or you are somehow able to convince him to loosen his arms around you.

When you do your chores around the house, expect Wriothesley to suddenly come up behind you and wrap his arms around you. He rests his head on your shoulder or your head depending on your height in comparison to his. The closeness and intimacy of it is his favourite part of it.

If he sits on the couch while you are walking around the house and walk by him, he will grab your wrist and pull you into his lap. He craves as much physical touch as possible on his off days so whenever he can he will cuddle you. He loves it when you relax on his lap and cuddle into him, it makes him feel loved and cared for.

Play with his hair while you sit on his lap and he will be in heaven. You can feel him lean his head into your touch. Due to how much he loves having his hair played with he makes sure that it is always as soft and clean as possible, just so you will continue playing with it.

[wonwooslibrary]

svt as boyfriends ♡ seungcheol edition

member: seungcheol x reader genre: fluff, bullet points word count: 876 summary: seungcheol's boyfriend things warnings: none!! author's note: this was so close to not being posted in time...I just worked two 10 hour shifts in a row and i am so tired...anyway, i hope you all enjoy this small fluff piece <3 happy birthday seungcheol !!!

Okay so Seungcheol is what I like to call “The Boyfriend Material” and I have a feeling all you couprangs will agree with my genius 

Cheol is the booktok boyfriend, jeans made 100% out of boyfriend material 

Quality Time 

Seungcheol loves when you get chaotic. He’s used to dealing with twelve idiots (loving) every day, and adding another one to the list is no biggie! He loves to spend time with you, especially when you go out with your friends. 

If you go to a club or even just to hang out at the park with your closest friends, Cheol will be perfectly content sitting quietly next to you, his arm over your shoulder, or his head resting on yours

He likes to see you happy, and if that means tagging along to all the events you go to, then so be it! 

He would definitely want you to hang out with his best friends too, and you have quickly learned in your relationship, that even though Cheol is usually calm and collected, he becomes the most…energetic person when he is with his friends 

If he is gaming with Wonwoo, or some other friends, he would love for you to just sit with him! Reading a book, drawing, or just dining something relaxing next to him as he tries to absolutely destroy his friends in the online world 

Though, dates are definitely Seungcheol’s best version of Quality Time - mans knows how to treat you !!!

Cute dates like picnics or stargazing, where the two of you are in public, but are still away from public eye, are his forte 

Words of Affirmation

SEUNGCHEOL IS THE ABSOLUTE KING OF PETNAMES 

Anything he can come up with, he will call you it 

This can range from something cute like “sweetie” or “darling” to the other end of the spectrum that makes your heart race a bit more than you would like, with him calling you “baby/babygirl/babyboy” or “prince/princess” 

He knows that you love him, and you know that he loves you, so knowing that his major way of showing affection to you is talking oh so proudly about you when you’re not around, is totally acceptable in your relationship 

He loves bragging about you and telling fin stories to your (and his) friends about funny moments between you from dates and just casually hanging out

He never fails to compliment you when you do something you’re proud of, or if you look particularly cuddle-able one day

“Sweetie, you look absolutely adorable in that sweater! Is it new?” 

AAAA choi seungcheol boyfriend material 

Physical Touch

Who is one of those members that is constantly koala hugging his dongsaengs? That’s right, it’s Seungcheol, and that DEFINITELY does not stop him from constantly wanting your attention

This could be through regular morning cuddles when you both wake up a bit too early for your liking, watching movies together, playing games or even when seeing each other for the first time in a couple hours 

Seungcheol would love to just attack you in hugs when you get home from school or work

He would also be the king of small pda: holding hands when you’re walking together, putting his hand on your back when you’re going up and down stairs or going up a hill, putting his arm around your shoulder when you’re sitting next to each other in the park

Seungcheol just loves being around you and cuddling you please just let the poor, attention starved man hug you 10,000 times a day

Acts of Service 

My favorite thing about Seungcheol is his Boyfriend Material Acts of Service™

He LOVES sharing hoodies and shirts: whether it is you giving him a hoodie or him giving you one, he doesn’t care as long as someone is wearing the other person’s clothes 

Helps with laundry because everything has to be perfectly clean, smelling nice and soft, otherwise it’s not worth being worn by you !!!

He loves helping you !!! Like if you have a big project or exam for school or work, he’ll be right next to you helping you out! 

If you need flashcards to study for an exam, he’s right there asking you questions! 

If you need a second opinion on this presentation, he’s telling you what websites to use for themes…

He loves you, and he wants to prove that by helping you with the little things <3 

Gift Giving 

You know how Ken’s job is just Beach? Well Cheol’s job is just Wallet 

Seungcheol loves surprising you with things!!! Whether it be your favorite snack for movie nights or a random coffee when he gets home in the mornings 

Or even !!! buying little trinkets for around your home that remind you both of each other 

He’ll also surprise you with a cute outfit one in a while, or a piece of jewelry you have been eyeing lately 

Mans earns plenty of money and he just wants to spend it all on you <3 

You have student loans? Cheol is begging you to let him help you, even if you want to be independent with things like that 

People say money doesn’t buy happiness but Seungcheol’s gifts reminds you of him…so I guess that counts as buying happiness

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Screaming at an Empty Room -

Reintroduction/Update

Hello everyone! Probably too late to do an intro, given that I've been writing on this blog since 2017, but since I've returned after a few years away from writing, I wanted the opportunity to talk about my blog and projects completed and my upcoming plans!

I go by Avaleon everywhere else on the internet, but respond to pretty much anything, including Screaming, hey you, etc! Started this blog in my mid 20s, and aged normally into the early 30s from there. I love writing, have always loved it, but between work and life, it's definitely something that I mostly do late at night and on weekends. I love hearing from people, but I usually answer asks in bunches, and typically right before I post writing. Love hearing about other people's projects as well!

I write short stories, novellas, and occasional full length novels. I am not published, but actively working on self-publishing some of my full length works. Everything I write is posted online, I enjoy sharing my work. The main reason to self publish for me is to have physical copies for myself or anyone who might want one!

My short stories can be found under the #writing tag on my blog. As for the long completed stories, I'll post them below the cut!

Love you Tumblr, happy to be back!

A. Full Length Novels (100,000+ words)

Please Fix the Story!

Description:

I don’t know who I am. I don’t know why I’m trapped in this never ending cycle of rebirth. All I know is that I wake up inside the worlds of unfinished stories, with a mission to accomplish the author’s wishes and stabilize the worlds now headed for destruction. I do my best, hoping, praying that maybe if I complete enough missions, I’ll be able to remember my past and return to my home.

It’s just fixing stories, it should be simple enough.

So can someone explain who this random villain is who keeps following me to each world?

Masterpost linked here

2. I Can’t Eat Love

Description:

Lenora did not have a wonderful life. After her engagement to Prince Ronan is broken, she loses everything… her reputation, her home and her family. Starving on the streets, she dies angry and bitter at how her life unfolded… only to wake up in her old bed, fifteen again, five years before her death. 

Now she must struggle to change her fate, and the fate of the around her. This time she won’t trust in something as flimsy or changeable as love. No, this time she’ll have the power and the money she needs to protect herself. 

Lenora has already lost everything once. She’s not going to lose again. 

No matter the cost. 

Masterpost Linked Here

B. Novellas

I Refuse to be a Named Character

Description:

I woke up inside the world of one of the best selling fantasy book series “Deadly Crown.” Intrigue, handsome heroes, adventure… sounds great, right? Just one problem: all the named characters except the main hero and villain die, are replaced and their replacements die. Being important in this story is a death sentence, so I plan to move to the middle of nowhere, and avoid the plot! 

It should be a fool proof plan, so why do the main characters keep dragging me into the story?

Masterpost Linked Here

2. Living in a Rewrite of my Own Book World

Description:

This is the story about an author who gets hit by a car right before she can finish her bestselling book series. Trapped in the role of a terrible side character antagonist, she must find a way to change the story’s ending. Not just for her own survival, but for the characters that seem just a little too real to be fiction. (30K words)

Masterpost Linked Here

3.Baby’s First Revenge!

Description:

When Charlotte is betrayed and killed by the friend she sacrificed everything for, she thought it was the end. Instead, she found herself reborn as a baby, with her killer still enjoying the fame of stealing her work. Now, she's coming after him, and plans to make him pay... But first, nap time.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7

4. The Supervillain’s Daughter

The story of Erica, a girl who finds out that her brother is the kidnapped child of superheroes, and that her parents are villains. Years later she is the best agent in the Villain Suppression Unit, and hates everything to do with superheroes. So of course she isn’t pleased when she is paired with the strongest man alive, especially because she knows him. But with even darker parts of her past surfacing again, she will have no choice but to join forces and save the world. 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

Other smaller works and the incomplete ones can be found on this page

Thanks everyone!

[major-mads]

Chapter 5: The Dangerous Sky

John "Bucky" Egan x Ruth Morgan (OFC)

Series Masterlist

A/N: We've been planning this chapter for months now, and it's so exciting to finally post it! It's another long one lol! Please comment or reblog and tell us what you think!! Thanks for reading!! <3

Collab: On a Wing and a Prayer by @footprintsinthesxnd

Word Count: 12.7k

Monday, August 23, 1943: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

Regensburg, Germany…the mission that earned the Hundredth its nickname was finally over.

Nine forts lost. 

Ninety men gone…just like that.

Ninety boys who would not return to their families. 

Among these ninety men was Curt. Buck and John were still in shock when their small group of officers tiredly pushed through the doors into their nissen hut. A few beds were made with fresh sheets, all remnants of their previous owners long gone.

The nightstands and walls that held the pictures Ruth had admired the week before were bare, a fresh slate for a fresh face that would be arriving soon. 

As he walked by Biddick’s bunk, Bucky couldn’t bear to look at it. The wound was still too fresh.

“Knowing Biddick,” he had told Buck in the Algerian desert,” He’s probably sipping on a bottle of schnapps right about now.”

Oh, how he wished he was right.

“Looks like you’ve got mail, Bucky,” Jack spoke up, pointing at the man’s bed that had a few letters thrown on the mattress.

Dropping off his bag with a thud, John sat on the edge of his bed and collected the letters silently, immediately recognizing the neat cursive handwriting on the front.

He let out a gentle sigh and smiled to himself, the corners of his lips curling just slightly. Flipping through the letters, he discovered that all three of them were from Ruth. 

August 17th, August 19th, and August 21st

John opened the first one, carefully unfolding the precious letter, and began to read.

John, Hope and I were barely able to sleep last night. Our worry for you both ate away at us, keeping us awake until the early hours of the morning. Based on what we’ve heard from Frank, that is around the time you were probably waking up in preparation for the mission. I pray for you constantly, John. I pray that God will look out for you, that He’ll protect you, and that He’ll allow you to come back to me. I also pray that Granny’s necklace does its job. Keep it close. I like to think that it’s a little piece of me with you. I don’t think I could imagine not seeing you again. My heart couldn’t take it. I’m afraid I have become very attached to you and your mustache, Major, so I am pushing this thought as far from my mind as I can. It has been difficult. As I sit writing this in the loud mess hall of our base, I can’t help but think back on the dance. That first night we shared with the buzzing crowd surrounding us…the way you calmed my nerves without a word, made me smile, made me laugh. You are unlike anyone I’ve ever known, John Egan, and I worry that you may never be rid of me if you continue to treat me so. I hold every second we’ve shared very near to my heart, and I can’t wait to see your handsome face again. If by some miracle you are back to base by the time this letter arrives, send me a response as soon as possible. I need to know you’re safe, Johnny. I’ll be waiting for you and your letter. Yours, Ruth Morgan

John could almost hear the nurse’s voice in his head reading her words, and his chest filled with warmth as he traced her name lightly with his finger. If he was being honest with himself, he was taken aback by her sincerity. No woman had ever expressed feelings like these to him before.

His relationships with women had always been about a night of pleasure, physical attraction with not much feeling behind it. 

But her words…

‘I worry that you may never be rid of me…’

Ruth was different in every way possible, and when he told her that first night, he had no idea just how much. Placing the letter onto his nightstand, he opened the second one from the 19th, his grin widening when he saw the first line.

Dear Hotshot, I wanted to be the first to inform you of the Yankees’ seven-to-five loss to the Indians today. Yes, I remember our truce, but seeing that you got one last jab on Monday before we parted, I decided that I had one left myself. This makes us even now. Now that that’s out of the way, I can revert to the loving sweetheart who is worried sick for your safe return. I really do mean it when I say you are always on my mind, John. I’ve managed to make it one singular day without seeing or writing to you before giving in and penning this letter. I simply need to get out my nerves and anxieties, thoughts and feelings, and this is the best way to do that. Hope and I went on an evacuation run yesterday, and as we were flying, we wondered if we were near the two of you. Did Buck tell you he proposed? Well, he didn’t technically, but he told Hope he wanted to marry her after the war. Needless to say, she’s been worried sick just as I have, maybe even more with Hugh gone as well (if that’s possible).

Eyes widening, John’s gaze rose from the letter and shot across the room to Gale, who was quietly talking with Hugh at his bunk as he unpacked his bag.

Why did he not tell him?

“Got any big news you wanna share with the class, Buck?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at him while holding up Ruth’s letter.

Gale confusedly looked over at him. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Rolling his eyes at Hugh, Buck sauntered over to John, standing over him with hands on his hips. “What are you talking about?”

“Mrs. Hope Cleven,” the older man grinned. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

A bashful smile appeared on Gale’s face. “I’ve got a ring and everything, now. It’ll be after all this is over.”

Standing to his feet, Bucky pulled him into a tight hug and lifted him off the ground. “Whenever it happens, I better be the best man! That’s all I’m sayin’.”

“Yeah, yeah, you will be,” Buck chuckled as John put him down, releasing him from his grip. “Just don’t tell Hugh that.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Hugh shouted across the officer's hut causing Gale to groan. 

“Well, it makes sense. I am Buck’s best friend,” John retorted, sending a sly smirk Hugh’s way which only riled the man up further.

“Yeah, and Hope’s my sister. I’m his future brother-in-law.” 

Gale stepped back as Hugh stomped over to them, coming chest to chest with John who just continued to playfully glare down at him. 

“So what? You're a St. Louis fan,” Bucky pointed at him, a grin tugging at his lips. “That instantly makes you not best man material.” 

Hugh snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and I suppose you being a great Yankees fan makes you the right choice, huh?” 

“Absolutely,” John replied matter of factly. “How can you cheer for a team who lost 11-3 to the Pirates? The Pirates.” 

“At least we didn’t get shut out by the Indians.”

Gale knew this wasn’t going to end well. No one could insult the Yankees to Johnny’s face and get away with it...except Ruth, of course. Before John could find a comeback, Gale stepped up, moving to stand between the two men.

“Now, now. I’m not having you two fighting over being my best man. If it’s that much of a problem, I’ll make Demarco my best man and Meatball can be the ring bearer.” 

Neither of the men seemed too pleased with that outcome. 

“Not Demarco!” 

“Yes, Demarco.” 

John groaned, pursing his lips, and Hugh remained silent, looking at the ground solemnly at their childish behavior. 

“You should choose whoever you want to be your best man, but-” John began with a nod before Hugh interrupted.

“Yeah pick who you want, Gale. Hope will probably want me to walk her down the aisle anyway so I’ll probably be in the bridal party instead.” 

John snickered with raised brows as he imagined Hugh in a bridesmaid’s dress, but he fell silent when Gale elbowed him in the ribs, shooting him a glare..

“Come here,” Bucky pulled Gale into another hug and slapped his friend’s back, “Congratulations, Buck! You’re a helluva guy.” 

“The best,” Hugh added. 

As they stood there celebrating Buck’s life-changing news, the trio couldn’t help but think of their close friend who wasn’t. Their group got even smaller…

“Curt…he would,” John cleared his throat and nodded, forcing down the emotion that threatened to creep up his throat. “He would be happy for you, Buck.”

Gale’s eyes met Bucky’s and they mirrored the same emotions…hurt, regret, sadness. The men who came back never talked about those who didn’t, and both of them knew this was the one time they would.

“Yeah, he would,” Buck breathed, one side of his lips barely turning up into a mournful smile.

Silence filled the air around them there for a few moments, all three stuck in their minds until Gale spoke up.

“That from Ruth?” Buck asked, gesturing to the letter in Johnny’s hand.

He nodded once and sat down on his bunk with a soft smile, suddenly remembering the last half of Ruth’s letter he still had to read. “I’ve got another one to read after this one. Then I’ve gotta write her back.”

As Gale looked down at his friend’s lovesick gaze, he smiled to himself and shook his head. If someone had asked him if John Egan would be rushing to read love letters and send a response to a woman, one woman, whom he’d been seeing over a month, Buck Cleven would’ve told them they were crazy. 

“Tell her I said hello,” Gale said quietly, patting Johnny’s shoulder before returning to his bunk.

He muttered, “Yeah, sure,” before his eyes found the paragraph he left off on. The major’s aching heart was soothed by her words as he continued to read them.

We have been busying ourselves around the base, finding things to keep our mind off the fact that we don’t know where you are…if you’re safe. I’d like to think I’d know in my heart if you were gone. I pray I don’t ever have to face that feeling. Take care of each other wherever you are, alright? I know you watch Buck’s back like he watches yours, Johnny. Keep an eye on Hugh, as well. We both know he can be a troublemaker…like someone else I know. He, however, doesn’t have someone to reel him back in when he gets a little too crazy like you do. I know I’m writing this like you will receive it where you are right now, and not when you return to base, but I’m doing so because it’s the closest thing I have to talking to you.  I miss you, John. Please write when you get this. Praying for your safe return, Your Ruthie 

Scooting onto his bunk more comfortably, Bucky leaned back against the wall and opened the last letter. It was dated just two days prior, so at her current rate, another would be sent before his could reach her. 

My Hotshot, Please come home soon. The past five days have been torture. I go to see if I’ve gotten mail every single day, and each time, I leave a little more disheartened than I came. I feel my heart can’t beat inside my chest until I know you’re safe. I know you’re doing your job…a job that has to be done…but it doesn’t make it any easier. I’m sorry, John, but I don’t have too much time to write. We’re about to leave on an evac run. I long to hear your voice and feel your warm touch. Don’t forget your promise, hon. Come back to me…sooner rather than later. I can’t handle two boyfriends, remember? Missing you, Your Girl

Johnny swallowed thickly, lowering the letter to his lap as his mind raced. He knew that it very easily could’ve been him that went down that fateful day over Regensburg…it was all luck. 

There was a bigger chance than he’d like to admit that he’d go down, that they’d all go down, and the thought of never seeing Ruth again brought a burning to his chest. Reaching up, he grasped the necklace around his neck beside his dog tags, feeling the coolness under his fingers. 

Her Granny’s necklace sure did its job.

John brought the cross to his lips, kissing it softly as he silently thanked Virginia Morgan up above for the good luck.

Once the letters were carefully stored in the growing bundle of her correspondences he kept in his nightstand, he pulled out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen. Using his book as a backer, he began to write.

Ruthie, Hey, sweetheart. I’m glad that you kept your promise about the letters, and I’m also glad to say that I’ve managed to come back to you in one piece. By now, you’ve probably read about the raid in the papers. It was a tough one, and reading your letters helped more than you’ll ever know. Thanks for telling me of Buck’s “proposal.” The chump hadn’t even told me about it! So much for a best friend, right?  He says ‘hello,’ by the way.  Hugh thinks he has a chance at best man, but we all know that’s not gonna happen. You’ll be the maid of honor and I’ll be the best man…I can see it now: Buck crying like a baby and you looking like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve missed you, Ruthie. I still can’t believe that a wonderful woman like yourself would ever spare a poor sucker like me the time of day. Each time we part, I find myself replaying our every moment spent together. When we were stuck in the Algerian desert under the scorching sun, my thoughts always wandered back to you.  Your skin, your hair, your smile, your lips…the way you make me laugh. You are unlike any woman I’ve ever known, Ruth Morgan, and if I am never rid of you (as you wrote), I would consider myself the luckiest man in the world.  Stay safe up there on your runs for me. Your Hotshot, John Egan P.S. Tell your other boyfriend that I’m back and not willing to share.

Saturday, August 28, 1944: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base

John, Gale, and Hugh were riding from their nissen huts to the mess hall when the familiar roar of a C-47 filled the air. The sound meant their girls were on base, and it filled them with excitement as they peddled faster towards the landing strip. 

“Did you know they were coming today?” Buck asked, quickly glancing over at Johnny and Hugh.

John shook his head, a lazy grin curving his lips. “No, Ruth didn’t mention it in her last letter.”

Gale nodded to himself but couldn’t shake the feeling deep down that something was wrong. As they approached the airstrip, Colonel Harding appeared, calling out to John.

“Bucky! I need to talk to you,” he yelled from the balcony of the nearby flight tower.

Holding in a groan, Johnny nodded at Hugh and turned his bike toward the tower. “Tell Ruth I’ll see her in a minute.”

It all happened so quickly.

The flight had been uneventful. 

All their patients were stable, and Frank and his fellow pilot were singing together in the cockpit. Hope and Ruth had taken their seats and were enjoying resting their legs for a while. 

That was until the Ack-Ack’s had started firing.

Hope hissed, resting her palm against her injured thigh as she slid out of the plane. The bloodied bandage did nothing to stem the steady flow of thick blood. It hadn't been gushing with a constant flow but seemed to increase as her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest. 

Memories of the shrapnel piercing her thigh, having pranged around the aircraft before embedding itself into her, flashed in her mind. Looking back, she shouldn’t have pulled it out, but despite Ruth’s protests, she was stubborn, and without the blonde’s quick thinking at applying pressure and a tourniquet, she wondered if this would have been a different situation. Hope hated feeling weak and not being in control, but her stubbornness could have cost her life. 

“You need to get that leg checked out, Hope,” Ruth glanced over, her usually soft features etched with fear and concern, but Hope, still being her stubborn self, shook her head. 

“Ruth’s right, Hope. It’s a bad wound and we’d all feel a lot better if you got it checked out,” Frank added, helping the blonde with getting a stretcher into the ambulance. 

“We need to tend to our patients first,” Hope shuffled over to the nearest man on a stretcher, quickly informing the stretcher-bearers of his condition before they carted him towards the ambulance. 

Glancing at his watch quickly, the pilot cursed under his breath. “I’ve gotta go radio the base and let them know what happened.” He pointed at Hope as he hurried off. “Get it checked.”

“Do you need that leg looked at, Miss?” One of the young men asked, “There’s room in the ambulance.” 

Hope shook her head, politely declining any assistance. That was until two familiar faces came rushing over, a mixture of fear, anger, and horror on their faces as they noticed the side of their C-47.

“What the hell happened, Girls?” Hugh asked, glancing between his sister, then Ruth, then back to Hope. “Shit! You’re bleeding.” He reached forward but Hope pulled away, shrugging him off.

“I'm fine, Hugh. It's just a scratch. I'll get it looked at later,” she dismissed him.

By now she could feel Gale’s eyes boring into her, his sharp blues missing nothing. He felt her discomfort as she hobbled along, trying to avoid resting her hand against the wound to draw attention to it. 

“That looks a hell of a lot more than a scratch, Hope,” Gale stepped forward to stand beside Hugh, his movements stiff and mechanical, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to act. “You’re covered in blood.” 

Hope looked down at her uniform, noticing that from her waist down both her legs were soaked in blood and she was beginning to feel lightheaded. “I said I'm fine,” Hope snapped, exasperated and in pain. 

She just wanted to do her job, why couldn't they understand that?

“What happened, Hope?” Gale’s eyes were dead serious as they watched her, clearly annoyed but wracked with concern. Hope just looked back at him, unable to move or speak for fear she might cry. 

“It was the Ack-Ack’s,” Ruth quietly spoke up, and the men turned to see her own blood-soaked uniform, her hands still shaking at her side. “The plane was hit by flak fire. A chunk of shrapnel went flying around… got Hope in the thigh,” Ruth sighed and let her gaze fall to the ground, knowing that Hope might not forgive her for the next part. “She pulled it out herself. We applied pressure and a dressing but she needs to see a doctor.” 

If looks could kill, Ruth would be six feet under the airbase by now. 

“YOU DID WHAT?” Gale cried out, his face white with horror but his sharp eyes burning in a way none of them had ever seen before. “Are you some sort of idiot? Everyone knows not to pull things out of a wound. You could have bled out.” Gale’s chest was heaving as he fought the anger that built up within him. His hands clenched in fists at his side as he continued. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” 

Hugh reached out to him, trying to cool the situation down but Hope intervened. 

“I had patients on board. I'm no good to them if I bleed out everywhere. I thought quickly and went with the best possible outcome.” 

Gale snorted, waving his hands out in front of him, “Of course you did. You thought of the best possible outcome for you. What about the rest of us, Hope? What would happen if you had died?” 

Hope sent him a hostile glare, jaw clenched and her lip curling slightly as she spoke, “Do you realize how selfish you sound?” 

Gale scoffed, “I’m selfish. Did you for one-second think of what we'd have done if you had died?” 

Despite being outside surrounded by wounded soldiers, you could have heard a pin drop. 

Hope’s eyes scanned over the group, looking into the faces of her friends and seeing the same hurt looks. Ruth’s face was still tilted toward the ground with closed eyes as she listened to the bickering. The fear, the explosions, and the sound of Hope’s pained scream replayed in the woman’s mind, and she felt like her heart was going to explode inside her chest. 

It was too much. It was all too much.

Ruth was vaguely aware of the rest of the group leaving the airfield, Buck trailing off after Hope as she stormed away, and Hugh marching off as well. She stood there silently, trying to keep herself from falling apart…

The second Bucky was dismissed by Colonel Harding, he jogged down the stairs to his bike outside. Pedaling to the airstrip, he could only think of Ruth’s smiling face that he would soon be seeing. The hum of engines reached his ears as he turned around the corner of a shortcut, and the sight of her familiar figure standing before the C-47 sparked even more excitement within him. A grin formed on his face and he pedaled faster, eager to greet her. 

As the plane came into better view, his smirk fell as he noticed a giant hole in its fuselage. Johnny’s gaze snapped back to Ruth, and when he looked closer, his initial excitement transformed into horror. The world seemed to blur when his eyes focused on the blood-soaked flight uniform that clung to her. Panic seized him, and without a second thought, he leaped off the still-moving bicycle, letting it clatter to the concrete behind him as he sprinted toward Ruth, his boots pounding against the hard ground.

“Ruth! Ruth, what happened?” he cried desperately, his voice echoing off the nearby buildings. 

Johnny reached her in a whirlwind, taking her face in his hands, his panicked blue eyes inspecting her face intensely, scanning for any sign of injury. He then moved to her torso, his hands running over her body frantically.

As his hands desperately searched Ruth’s uniform, his voice trembled with fear. “You hurt?”

For a moment, she didn’t respond, and then suddenly, her tear-filled eyes met his. The Major’s hands, once frantic in their search, were now pleading. "Ruthie, come on. Talk to me. I need to know you’re okay." 

She gently placed her hands over his, stopping him. “It’s not mine,” she finally whispered, her voice strained. “We flew into a flack field, and, uh, Hope. She got hit in the leg. Buck’s with her now.”

‘Ruth’s okay,’ John repeated in his frazzled mind. “She’s okay.

A relieved sigh escaped his lips and John wrapped his arms around her, pulling the woman into him tightly. Her head was tucked into his chest as uncontrollable tremors ran through her body. 

“You’re okay, doll. I’ve got you,” he murmured against her temple. “I’m here.”

His heart broke as he felt a sob rack through her body, her weak cries reaching his ears. “I-I was so scared, John. I thought we were gonna die.”

Bucky pulled back slightly and moved his hands to grasp her tear-streaked cheeks gently, her pain-filled blue eyes nearly tearing him apart. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered, leaning down to meet her gaze as he wiped her tears softly with the pad of his thumbs. “You didn’t, okay? It’s over now. You’re safe, Ruth. It’s over.”

She took a shaky deep breath, trying to calm herself, but another cry fought its way up her throat and the nurse let out a choked sob. With each breathless gasp that left her lips, Ruth’s heart pounded faster and she suddenly felt her chest tightening.

John knew what the startings of a panic attack looked like, and he tried to recall how Franny had taught him to calm Lena down all those years ago when they were teenagers. Seeing Ruth’s usually bright and loving personality in such a fearful and panicked state sent his mind into overdrive.

“Ruth,” he urged, his hands still cradling her face. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Her watery gaze met his, her breaths coming out in short uneven gasps. 

“I need you to breathe.”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, John nodded at her with raised brows, worry etching his face. “With me, now.”

Ruth shook her head. “I-I can’t-”

“Yes, you can,” the Major asserted firmly, reaching for her hand and holding it against his chest. “Feel that? Breathe with me. In…” he breathed through his nose. “And out.”

After a moment, she shakily followed suit, her eyes never leaving his. The warmth of John’s hand enveloping hers and the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch grounded her in the moment. Gradually, her breathing began to regulate, the erratic gasps giving way to steady inhales and exhales. Johnny watched her closely, his eyes searching for any signs that the attack might return.

“There you go,” he murmured. “Just keep breathing with me, doll.”

With each measured breath, Ruth felt the tightness of her chest gradually ease, the weight of her fear lifting. After a few minutes, her breath completely steadied, and the panic attack passed, leaving her drained but calmer.

Ruth leaned into John’s comforting embrace, her forehead moving to rest against his chest as she let out a shuddering sigh. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. “I-I’m sorry you had to see me like this, covered in blood and…and a mess.”

John placed a soft kiss to her temple. “None of that. You’re okay. That’s all I care about.”

As she stepped back into his arms, her eyes welled up with tears once more. “But look at you,” she protested weakly, gesturing to the smears of blood that marred his brown button-up undershirt. “I’ve ruined your shirt.”

Bucky shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “This old thing? I’ve got a million of ‘em anyways, Ruthie. It’s just a shirt. Wasn’t even my Sunday’s best,” he reassured her gently. “I knew there was a reason I didn’t wear my lucky jacket today.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded.  “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and slowly led her toward the nearby operations building, still feeling her body shaking beneath his touch. As they turned the corner, they were met with Bubbles walking past a jeep. His face scrunched in concern and the usual smile fell from his lips at the sight of the bloodied woman. 

“Shit! What happened, Bucky?” he asked, quickly approaching them. “Do I need to go get Doc Stover?”

“No,” Ruth piped up, mustering the best smile she could. Even Bubbles could see straight through it.

John shook his head. “We’re alright, but I’ve gotta take your ride, Bubbles. Sorry.”

“Oh, that’s not mine. It’s Kidd’s.”

“Even better,” he smirked, opening the passenger door for Ruth before climbing behind the wheel. “Tell him I owe him one.”

Bubbles raised a brow with a barely concealed grin. “He’s gonna be pissed, sir.”

“Ehh, he’ll get over it.”

Nodding, the lieutenant turned to enter the building, but Bucky called out to him. “Oh! Bubbles, could you grab my bike? It’s somewhere near the ‘47 back there. Tell Jack it’s his for the day! Thanks!”

As the jeep roared to life, John tucked Ruth under his arm much like he did the night of the dance, and then they were off. She laid her head on his shoulder and her eyes slowly fluttered shut, sleep calling to her after the day’s events.

John peered down at her with a saddened smile as he took in her splotchy face and the blood that seemed to coat the bottom half of her uniform. Some of it even clung to her hair, the light blonde strands covered by the sticky, maroon substance. 

As he felt her finally relax in his hold, he let out a shaky breath, his heart finally beating regularly in his chest again. The Major knew how terrifying flack encounters were, and he was trained in how to handle it…well, he was used to it. Ruth, on the other hand, was not. It was her job to keep men alive while in the air, not worrying about being shot out of the sky by some German on an anti-aircraft gun.

Rage bubbled from within him at the thought. If the blast was just a little closer, there was a chance that he wouldn’t be holding her in his arms. If one more-

“I missed you,” she murmured, breaking Bucky from his thoughts as she nuzzled into his shoulder. “I was so worried about you, John.”

He took a steadying breath, pushing down his anger as he ran his hand along Ruth’s arm softly. “I missed you, too, doll. And I guess we’re even now, ‘cause I think I just lost ten years of my life back there.”

A tired laugh escaped her lips. “Imagine feeling that way for 9 days.”

Johnny could hear the exhaustion in her voice, and he squeezed her shoulder, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her hairline.

“Get some shut-eye, alright? We’ve got a stop to make before we go back to my hut.”

She nodded against him as her eyes fluttered closed again, sleep quickly overtaking her. 

As she slept soundly under his arm, he pulled up to a hut with a familiar figure smoking outside. “Miss Tatty,” John whisper-shouted, careful not to wake up Ruth. “Could you do me a favor?”

Raising a brow, she took a drag of her cigarette and approached the jeep, her smile falling when she saw the nurse’s bloody figure beside him. “She alright?”

“Flack hit her stick,” He sighed, running his free hand down his face. “She’s alright, but Hope got pinked in the thigh. Scared her half to death.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Could you find some extra clothes for her? She’s gonna need some fresh ones.”

Tatty nodded at him, a determined expression gracing her face. “I’ll get some now.”

It only took the woman a few minutes to emerge from the hut with a small bundle in her hand. “This should be enough,” she said, placing the bag into the back of the jeep. “But please stop by again if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tatty. I owe ‘ya one.”

A tiny chuckle left her lips as she pointed her finger between Ruth and John. “Just don’t screw this one up, John, and we can call it even.”

“I don’t plan on it,” he grinned toothily, putting the jeep back in drive and starting down the road again. John’s hut was across the base, and he spent the short drive tapping the steering wheel to the tune of One O’Clock Jump while stealing glances at the sleeping woman in his arms. 

When the jeep rumbled to a stop outside the officer’s hut, Johnny rubbed Ruth’s shoulder. “Wake up, doll. We’re here,” he said gently, a soft smile playing at his lips as she lazily sat up, blinking away the sleep in her swollen eyes. “You need to get washed up.”

Ruth lazily looked around them and realized where they were.  “How long was I out?”

“Not long. Only about half an hour.”

Her eyes fell to her lap, the slick blood still staining the uniform. She was suddenly aware of how terrible she felt. It was everywhere. On her skin, in her hair…

“I feel disgusting,” she whispered, holding up her red-stained hands. 

“I know, doll. Here are some clothes you can change into after you shower.” Bucky reached back and grabbed the small bag that Tatty had given him, squeezing her shoulder before getting out of the jeep. “Let me go grab my kit for you and I’ll be right back.”

The second the door shut behind him, Ruth’s gaze fell back down to her hands, on the crusted blood under her nails, on Hope’s blood. At the thought, a strike of anxiety coursed through her, and the nurse could feel her heartbeat speed up. The shaking of the plane and the sound of the hot metal flying through the cabin rang in her ears as she closed her eyes tightly.

Among the chaos in her mind, she heard Johnny’s calming words. 

‘I need you to breathe…in and out.’

Following his voice, she took a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth, trying to calm her racing heart. Ruth repeated the action and ached for his comforting presence beside her. 

‘Breathe. In and out.’

Inside his hut, Johnny was strutting to his bunk when he heard a soft snore from his left. His eyes followed the sound to a bed across the room, a smile growing on his face when he realized it was Buck and Hope. Her dark hair was splayed on his chest, and Gale had an arm around her waist as the couple peacefully slept, their faces free from worry.

It was the most peaceful slumber Bucky had ever seen Gale have throughout their three-year friendship. 

He let out a chuckle under his breath and quietly gathered his shower pack, sparing them one last glance before closing the door behind him. As John emerged from the hut, Ruth’s eyes rose to his figure. His gaze locked with hers and he could once again see the worry in her blue eyes. He quickly approached the jeep but was stopped when someone called out to him. 

“Bucky?”

Johnny turned to his left, seeing Majors Dye and Veal jogging toward him with wide eyes.

“You good?” Dye asked, eyeing the smears of blood on his shirt. Bill just stared at him warily, the only emotion on his face visible by the slight crease in his brow.

 “I’m fine, boys,” Bucky replied with a smirk, his eyes floating to Ruth over their shoulder. “Thanks for the concern, but you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

The pair followed his gaze, sharing a silent look when they saw Ruth in the jeep. 

“Wait,” Bill spoke up gravelly, nodding towards John’s shirt. “Is that her blood?”

Scratching his mustache, John glanced at Ruth before lowering his voice and leaning closer to them. “No, but it’s Hope’s. Buck’s in there with her. They’ve both had a real shitty day.”

Dye nodded and sent her a sympathetic smile which she shakily returned. “We’ll tell the guys to steer clear for a little while.”

John could tell Ruth was teetering again, and he clapped Glen’s back, throwing a quick ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he walked back to the jeep, his attention completely on his girl. He rounded the bumper to lean against the passenger side, offering her his hand. “Come on, let’s go get you squeaky clean again, Ruthie.”

Nodding silently, she let him lead her to the bathhouse. Ruth stood in the corner while he turned on the shower, the hot steam already fogging up the mirrors when he stepped back and held his shower pack out to her. “I-uh don’t know how hot you like it, so I just-”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” she replied softly, taking the pack. ”Thank you.”

He stared at her for a few moments and took in the pure exhaustion on her features, his hand instinctively reaching up to push some hair behind her ear as he spoke softly. “I’ll be right outside. Gotta make sure no one sneaks a peek of my girl.”

Leaning down, he placed a gentle kiss against her lips before backing toward the door. Just as he reached for the handle, her voice stopped him in his tracks.

“John?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Can, um, can you stay?” she asked nervously, her eyes trained on the floor. “I don’t want to be alone.”

As Ruth’s request hung in the air, John’s mind went into overdrive. He felt a rush of heat flood his cheeks and his heart pounded in his chest. Swallowing hard, he struggled to find the right words. 

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” he finally replied softly. 

Even as he spoke the words, his mind was in turmoil and his thoughts spiraled out of control. John was unable to tear his gaze from her as she slowly began to unzip her flight uniform, revealing her red-tinged tank top underneath. When Ruth caught his stare, her cheeks flushed.

“Um, John,” her voice broke through the silence, her tone hesitant. “Could you…could you look away please?”

“Right,” Bucky muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the running water as he snapped out of his trance and spun to face the door. “Sorry.”

As she continued to undress, John tried to focus on anything other than what was happening behind him. He stared at the cracked cement floor, willing himself to remain composed, to keep his thoughts in check. When he heard the rustle of the curtain opening and closing, he let out a shaky breath as relief flooded through him.

Despite his efforts to focus on anything else, his thoughts kept drifting back to the woman on the other side of the curtain, her presence a constant in his mind. Bucky knew he should respect her privacy and give her a moment to decompress after the day’s stressful events, but the temptation proved too strong and before he could stop himself, he found his gaze drifting back to the shower.

John stole a glance through the opaque shower curtain, his body heating up at the sight of Ruth's silhouette moving gracefully beneath the spray of water. But as quickly as the temptation came, a wave of shame washed over him, and he quickly averted his gaze, chastising himself for his lack of self-control.

He traced the outline of her body in his mind, and then the shame came rolling right back again. Bucky knew he had to take his mind off of the woman…or at least try to…so he began to sing under his breath.

“Never saw the sun shining so bright,

Never saw things looking so right.

Watching the days hurrying by,

When you’re in love, my how they fly,

Blue days, all of ‘em gone,

Nothin’ but blue skies from now on…”

Ruth stood beneath the warm spray of water, letting it cascade over her weary body, washing away the dirt and grime of the day. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and eased the tension that had settled deep within her bones. Closing her eyes, she let out a sigh of relief, allowing herself a moment of rest.

As John’s soft singing filled the air, Ruth couldn’t help but smile. His voice, though not the most melodic, calmed her frayed nerves and eased the knot of fear that had lodged itself in her chest. 

“John,” she called out over the sound of the water.

“Yeah?” Came his muffled reply.

“Could you sing a little louder?”

Bucky ducked his head with a grin and raised his voice, switching to a new song.

“And when I told them how beautiful you are,

They didn’t believe me. They didn’t believe me.

Your lips, your eyes, your curly hair,

Are in a class beyond compare,

You’re the loveliest girl that one could see…”

Ruth closed her eyes and let his deep voice wash over her, allowing herself to get lost in the rhythm of the song. 

“And when I tell them, 

And I’m cert’nly gonna tell them,

That I’m the man whose wife one day you’ll be.

They’ll never believe me. They’ll never believe me. 

That from this great big world you’ve chosen me!”

As she listened to him, she began to scrub the blood from her skin, feeling a wave of emotion course through her. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as the memories of the day flooded her mind, but John’s voice calmed her, and she rapidly blinked them away. She knew that she wasn’t alone…that she had someone to stay by her side…someone to take care of her. 

It took her a few washes to get the dried blood from her hair, and she sighed in relief when she could run her fingers through the strands without getting caught in a tangle. The water turned off with a click, and she stuck her head out the curtain, making sure only her face was visible. 

“Could you pass me my towel?”

Johnny turned back towards her and quickly averted his gaze as reached for her towel hanging nearby. “Here,” he said, extending it towards her without making eye contact before facing the door once again.

“Thanks,” she replied, accepting the towel and beginning to dry herself off.

Ruth quickly got dressed, making a mental note to thank Tatty later, and ran the towel over her sopping wet hair. Once fully ready, she spoke up, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

Turning towards her slowly, John’s breath caught in his throat as he took her in. Her short blonde hair was slightly tousled from the shower, its natural waves making an appearance, and her cheeks flushed from the heat of the water. Ruth wore some navy pants that fit her perfectly with a dark, oversized wine colored sweater. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in her eyes, Johnny’d never seen something as beautiful in his 27 years.

“Wow,” John chuckled, approaching her slowly and cupping her cheek. “Would you look at that. Damn gorgeous.”

Her cheeks flushed even deeper at his words, a shy smile tugging the corners of her lips as she leaned into his touch. “You’re such a flirt,” she murmured.

Without hesitation, Johnny leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss, his hand weaving into her blonde waves. As they pulled apart, he rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the bathhouse. 

As he slowly leaned back, Ruth’s eyes caught sight of the raised scabs on his nose, cheekbone, and forehead. She reached up tentatively, barely touching them as she inspected his face. 

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, her voice laced with concern. “I didn’t even notice before.”

John’s gaze softened as he met her worried eyes. “Just a few scratches, Ruthie. Nothing to worry about.”

She nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “Was it from Regensburg?”

The Major hesitated for a moment, the mental image of Curt’s plane exploding flashing in his mind before he could stop the thought. He nodded once and forced his face to remain neutral. “Yeah.”

Little did he know that the blonde could see the pain in his blue eyes.

Ruth shook her head, a frown tugging at her lips. “You’ve been taking care of me all day, and I-I should have noticed sooner. I’m sorry.”

He reached out, gently taking her hand. “Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “I’m really fine, doll. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

He forced all thoughts of the mission from his mind, focusing on the present.

“You’re lucky,” he smirked down at her, mischief floating in his eyes. “I don’t give free concerts to just anyone.”

Ruth couldn’t hold in a laugh at his remark and the soft sound echoed through the small room. “Well, lucky for you,” she teased back. “If you gave out tickets for free, nobody would show up anyway.”

John rolled his eyes playfully, his heart swelling with relief as he listened to Ruth’s laughter, even her small smile warming him from the inside out. It eased the tension and guilt in his chest and filled him with a sense of happiness that he couldn’t quite put into words. He leaned in to kiss her forehead gently, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against his lips.

“You feeling any better?”

“I feel clean,” Ruth sighed wistfully. “Tired but clean.”

Gathering all her used items from the bathroom, she threw them into the dirty bin in the corner of the room. Bucky took her hand and brought them to his hut’s door, holding a finger to his lips.

“What?” she yawned as he opened the door for her. “What are-”

She cut herself off when she spotted them. Buck and Hope were still sleeping in each other’s arms, and a wide smile formed on her face when she looked up at Johnny who was already peering down at her. 

‘Hope’s fine,’ she thought. ‘They must have made up.’

Ruth had to throw a hand over her mouth to keep in the excited giggle that threatened to escape her lips, and John shook his head, tugging her away from the couple to his bunk.

She sank into his bed and inhaled deeply. Ruth closed her eyes for a moment, taking in the scent of his pillow, a mixture of his cologne and the army-issue shampoo they all used. It was a comforting smell, one that made her feel at ease.

As Ruth settled onto the bed, John made his way to the footlocker at the foot of the bunk, rummaging around for a clean shirt. Turning onto her back, she stared up at him as his fingers loosened the knot of his tie, pulling it free from around his neck. He tossed it into his footlocker before moving on to the buttons of his brown uniform shirt, revealing the pink-splotched tank top beneath.

Ruth couldn’t tear her gaze away if she tried.

She watched in silence, her face burning as he shrugged off the shirt, exposing his broad shoulders and muscular arms. When he finally pulled off the tank top, leaving him shirtless, a lump formed in her throat and heat surged through her. 

‘Get it together, Ruth,’ she thought. 

John caught her gaze and smirked, raising an eyebrow as he placed his hands on his hips. “So you can look, but I can’t?”

Ruth sputtered for a moment, her cheeks turning an impossibly deeper shade of red, but John chuckled softly. “I’m just joking, doll. Look all you want.“

She couldn’t help but admire him openly, her eyes tracing the lines of his chest and the curve of his shoulders. He was undeniably handsome…she knew that. But seeing him like this took her attraction to a whole new level and her heart fluttered in her chest.

Ruth eyed the few things that dangled from his neck: his dog tags, a small Virgin Mary pendant, and her Granny’s cross. 

Ruth silently thanked her Grandmother for bringing him back to her. 

Grabbing a fresh shirt from his footlocker, John slipped it on and kicked off his shoes before settling onto the bed, sliding back to sit against the wall. Ruth shifted to make herself comfortable and rested her head on his lap as Johnny’s fingers brushed over her damp hair.

They talked quietly for a few minutes, their conversation meandering aimlessly as they both enjoyed the other’s company. Soon, Ruth’s eyelids grew heavy, and her words began to drift off mid-sentence. Bucky watched her fondly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as she slipped into sleep, her warm breaths against his thigh.

Sighing, he carefully reached for his beat-up copy of Guys and Dolls on his nightstand and began to read, holding it up with one hand. His other hand rested on Ruth’s head as he absentmindedly stroked her hair as he read, only lifting it to flip the page. 

‘Only a rank sucker will think of taking two peeks at Dave the Dude’s doll, because while Dave may stand for the first peek, figuring it is a mistake, it is a sure thing he will get sored up at the second peek, and Dave the Dude is certainly not a man to have sored up on you. But this Waldo Winchester is one hundred percent sucker…’

The only sounds filling the room were each of the four’s quiet breaths, and John was able to read a few chapters before he heard rustling across from him. He lowered his book to see Buck sitting up slightly, rubbing his eyes with a yawn.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty,” John grinned, his voice hushed.

Gale’s head lifted to get a look at his friend and a chuckle escaped him seeing Johnny with a wide-mouthed Ruth lying in his lap, her blonde hair covering his thighs. “Look at us.”

“Yeah. Who would’ve thought.”

Silence filled the air again as each thought of the woman beside them. A few moments later, John broke the stillness of the nissen hut. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s…She’s good,” Gale replied as he fought to keep a blush from his cheeks at the memory of their confession and what came after. “How’s Ruth?”

Johnny shook his head with a saddened sigh. “Real shaken up, Buck. You should’ve seen her earlier. I was…I was worried.”

“I know the feeling. She doin’ any better now?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Finally cracked a smile and seemed herself when she saw you two.”

A gentle smile tugged at Buck’s lips as his gaze drifted down to Hope who continued to sleep soundly. Her breathing was shallow and her nose wrinkled occasionally as she dreamed. At some point, she had moved her left hand to clutch onto his shirt and he could see the ring glisten in the dim light. “I popped the question.”

“So it’s official?”

“Yep. 

“Congratulations, Buck,” Johnny smiled, a brow raising a few seconds later. “I am gonna be your best man, right?”

With an eye roll, Gale nodded at him. “Of course, you are, lardass.”

“Good.”

“As if I could watch Hope walk down the aisle without you by my side.”

“Exactly. You'll be crying like a baby anyway. I’ll have to bring plenty of tissues,” John chuckled, pleased that a sleeping Hope was keeping Gale anchored to the bed. Otherwise, he thought something would have been thrown his way. 

“I can’t say you’re much better,” Gale pointed out, nodding his head toward them. “Look at you. Never thought I’d see the day that John Egan wrote love letters, much less something like this.”

John chuckled and thought about how different his life had been since that day in July. “Well, I finally found one worth writing to. Ruth…she’s uh, she-”

 As if she had heard her name, the blonde stirred on his lap, stretching and yawning loudly before her eyes made contact with Gale who smiled at her.

“Good morning, Gale greeted her, causing Ruth to blush. She hadn’t realized she had an audience watching her wake up and only hoped she hadn’t been snoring loudly. 

She rolled onto her back to face John and was met with a gentle smile and loving blue eyes gazing down at her. “Hey there. Feeling better?”

“Still tired,” Ruth sighed and sat up, rubbing away the sleepers that had accumulated in her swollen eyes. “But I don’t think I can sleep anymore.”

John had to hold in a laugh at the way her blonde waves stuck up in all different directions from where they had dried on his lap. “Well, your wish is my command, doll, so what do you wanna do?”

“What is there to do?”

“Have you seen the hard stands yet?” Gale spoke up. “Lemmons might even have Billy and Sammy over there.”

“Billy and Sammy?”

“Two little squirts that Kenny’s taken under his wing,” John answered with a nod.

At the mention of the kids, Ruth’s face lit up, and a wide grin grew on her lips. All evidence of sleep disappeared from her features as she excitedly clambered off the major’s lap and stood to her feet, brushing her fingers through her hair to tame the wild locks.

As he watched her, Johnny felt a pang of sadness at the sight of Ruth’s sudden enthusiasm. It hit him then, that she probably hadn’t seen many kids since becoming a nurse. As a teacher, she was surrounded by them every day, and now, their innocent faces were likely a distant memory in her mind.

“They’re a handful, those two,” Bucky chuckled, rising to his feet beside her. “But they’re good kids. Come on, let’s go see if Kenny’s putting em’ to work over at the hard stands.”

Walking out of the hut, the couple sent Buck a “thanks” as they walked by him. Ruth’s eyes fell on Hope’s still sleeping figure, her heart twinging at the memories of the morning, but she didn’t worry. Gale was there to take care of her.

John and Ruth spent the short ride to the hard stands talking about their weeks, and he almost let the news of Gale and Hope’s engagement slip a few times before they rumbled to a stop in front of Muggs’ hardstand. 

He was determined to keep his mouth shut for once. Bucky knew Hope should be the one to tell Ruth about her engagement, and he didn’t want to be the one to ruin the surprise.

Hopping out of the jeep, John’s eyes searched for Lemmons. “Kenny?”

Ruth glanced over at him skeptically. “He here?”

“Should be. He said he’d fix the old girl up today.”

They approached the fort, and Ruth was shocked by its sheer size. Yes, her C-47 was big, but the B-17 was different. Her plane carried supplies, people, almost anything…but this was a weapon. A weapon that took the fight to Hitler’s doorstep. 

It really did look like a fortress.

Ruth reached up and trailed her fingers along its yellow nose paint, the metal rivets cool from the chilly English air as she followed John to the small hatch just in front of the right wing. Before he could stick his head into the hatch, a small boy’s face appeared sideways out the hole. 

“Boo!” 

Both the adults jumped, Ruth more so than Bucky, and the man jokingly groaned. “Billy! I thought Lemmons was supposed to be keeping you out of trouble?”

“Did I scare you, Major?”

John raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you think?”

“Yes,” he giggled as another boy stuck his head out the hole.

Sammy.

“Whatcha think, Ruthie?” Bucky looked over at her with his hands on his hips. “They get me?”

She grimaced playfully and nodded. “He about jumped out of his boots, boys.”

They shared a shocked look, then broke out into cheers, their faces disappearing from the hatch. “Lemmons! We got him! We finally got him!”

 “They’ve been trying to scare me for weeks,” he explained, a fond grin tugging at his lips. “Finally got me.”

Before Ruth could respond, a pair of feet dangled from the hatch, and John helped each of the boys to the ground, setting them down in front of the couple. They went running off toward the tail, and then a few seconds later, a ground crewman hopped out of the hatch, his dark curls peeking out from under his beanie.

“So they finally got ya, huh, Bucky?” he asked.

“Looks like it,” he replied.

Ken’s eyes fell to Ruth beside John and he smiled, wiping his oily hands on a rag. “You must be Ruth! I’ve heard a lot about you.” He held out a hand, “I’m Ken Lemmons, but you can call me Kenny. I’m one of the ground crew chiefs.”

“Nice to meet you, Kenny. I hope you’ve heard good things,” Ruth answered, cheeks flushing at the notion that John had talked about her. She glanced up at him with narrowed eyes before shaking Ken’s hand. “There’s no telling what this one’s said.”

“Don’t worry,” Lemmons chuckled. “Only good things. I promise.”

Giggles sounded from the back of the plane, and Ruth leaned to see them, her gaze instantly drawn to the boys. Following her eyes, Ken called them over. “Come here! The Major’s got someone he wants y’all to meet!”

They bounded over, just noticing her presence even though she had spoken to them minutes before. 

John grinned and wrapped an arm around Ruth's shoulders as he introduced her to the boys. "Boys, this is Ruth. She's my girl."

The boys' eyes widened in disbelief, and Billy blurted out, "No way! You're way too pretty!"

Ruth busted out laughing at their innocence. "Ohhh, he’s not so bad once you get past the mustache…and the jacket…and the bad jokes…and-"

“Alright, alright. We get your point,” he groaned, pretending to be offended by dramatically clutching his heart. "Way to kick a man when he’s down. Besides, that’s a lie about the mustache."

She shrugged and ignored his question. “Nice to meet you, boys.”

They exchanged mischievous grins, clearly enjoying the banter. "Miss Ruth," Sammy said, using his hand to hide his words from John. "You’re way out of his league."

John still heard the comment and raised an eyebrow, playing along. "You think so? Well, I guess I'll just have to keep her around to make me look good."

Ruth nudged him playfully. "Smooth recovery, Major."

The boys shared another toothy and excited glance before launching into a barrage of questions. “Do you live on base? Are you a nurse? Do you fly planes? Have you ever shot down a Jerry plane?”

Ruth laughed at their enthusiasm, sparing John a blissful look as she felt almost at home in the kids' presence. “I’m a flight nurse, and no, I don’t live at Thorpe Abbotts. I fly in planes but leave the actual flying to the pilots. I just take care of my patients and leave the rest to them.”

Billy and Sammy listened intently, hanging on her every word. “Do you ever see any action?” Billy asked.

Ruth hesitated, the day’s events flashing in her mind, but a warm, reassuring hand on her back brought her back to the present. “Sometimes,” she replied carefully. “But most of the time, my friend Hope and I are too busy taking care of the wounded soldiers and getting them safely back home to notice.”

“Wow,” they marveled.

“So what do y’all do around here?”

Out of the blue, Sammy grabbed Ruth’s hand, tugging her from the men. “Come on, Miss Ruth! We have to show you the plane!”

“Yeah, you gotta see the tail gun up close!” Billy added eagerly, his toothy grin stretching ear to ear. “And the ball turret!”

Ruth glanced back at John before allowing herself to be led away by the boys. As he watched them go, he shook his head at how Ruth affected everyone she met…she was captivating.

Ken and Johnny began conversing about the Muggs’ repairs from the previous day, but the Major’s attention kept drifting back to Ruth. After the boys gave her a plane tour, the trio moved to a grassy patch nearby, plopping onto the ground with Ruth sandwiched between the two boys. They continued their animated conversation, and their laughter filled the air as she told a story of a soldier who got airsick and threw up on her shoes. 

As he watched them, a thought crossed John Egan’s mind. A thought so unexpected that it caught him off guard.

She’d make a great mom.

The realization startled him. He’d never entertained thoughts of a future like that before, never met a woman who made him long to settle down and raise a family. But there he was, watching Ruth with Billy and Sammy, and the idea didn’t seem as far-fetched as before.

Ken noticed Bucky’s distraction and nudged him gently. “She’s great with ‘em.”

“She is,” he breathed, grinning as the boys broke into another fit of giggles across the hard stand. “Ruth was a teacher before she became a nurse.”

“A teacher?”

“Yeah.”

Lemmons nodded. “Makes sense. What age?”

“Junior high.”

“Well, that’s how she can handle you, then,” Kenny laughed. “She’s used to wranglin’ 13-year-olds all day!”

John threw an arm over the younger man’s shoulders, jostling him lightly. “You know, you’re probably right,” he cackled, his eyebrows raised. “You’re wise beyond your years. Sometimes I forget you’re still a squirt yourself.”

Once Billy and Sammy had to go home for supper, the couple drove back to the Officer’s Hut to catch up with Gale and Hope. Later that evening, Hugh arrived with food for the two couples, Meatball following at his heels. The large husky made a beeline for Hope, greeting her at the side of the bed. 

“Hey, Meatball,” Hope mumbled, leaning as far as she could to ruffle the dog’s fur. Meatball groaned when she began scratching his ear, and he closed his eyes and tilted his head, expressing his enjoyment. “Who's a good boy?” Meatball hopped up on the bed, snuggling into Hope’s side. 

“You can keep him if you want. The damn thing keeps howling. It’s driving me insane,” Hugh complained, passing Hope a bowl of steaming soup. “When Demarco gets back, I’m giving him a piece of my mind, leaving me to watch his dog all afternoon.” 

Hope accepted the soup gratefully but could only manage a few mouthfuls until the wave of nausea washed over her once more, and she placed the bowl down. 

“Ugh, I feel so sick.” 

Gale was at her side in an instant, his hand resting on the small of her back as she bent over, head in her hands. Ruth looked anxiously at John from their seats on his bed and started to put down her bowl to help when Hope spoke up.

 “It’s okay, Gale, it’s just the morphine,” she reassured him, squeezing his hand, to which he pressed his lips to her shoulder blade. 

Hugh snickered, “He didn’t get you pregnant while I was away, did he?” 

“With us in here? Sounds like a nightmare,” John retorted, rolling his eyes at the same time Ruth grimaced from beside him. She knew a signature Hope Armstrong comeback was incoming.

Hope glared at her brother, ”The fact that you have so little knowledge on pregnancy concerns me for your future wife.” 

Hugh stuck his tongue out in response, “That’s not a no, though.” 

 The pillow from Gale’s bed was a near miss as it sailed past Hugh’s head, and he dodged it dramatically, glaring at his sister.

“Come on, with all the ‘Dear John’ letters Sparky gets, I’d be surprised if he ever settles down,” John joined in. 

“Look who’s talking, Bucky,” Hugh retorted, pointing at Ruth with his spoon. “At least I got letters. You didn’t get a single one before Ruth came along.”

“Really?” Ruth asked quietly, surprise etched on her face.

The Major nodded with pursed lips, pushing the vegetables around his bowl before looking over at her with a small smile. “There was no one worth writing to.”

The blonde’s cheeks heated at his words, and she got caught in his gaze.

From their position across the room, Gale and Hope watched the interaction with fond smiles, both happy to see their friends with someone who so clearly adored them. The moment was interrupted when Hugh burst out laughing. 

“Well, that didn’t stop you from-”

He was cut off when a pillow came sailing into the side of his face, knocking some of his soup onto his pants as the pillow fell to the bed. Hugh’s gaze flicked towards the cot the projectile came from, ready to yell at Hope, but he wasn’t expecting to see her wide eyes as she stared up at Buck in awe.

“Sorry, Charlie,” he shrugged. “It just slipped.” 

Ruth and Hope broke into chuckles, but John just sent Gale a thankful glance. Bucky then turned his attention to Hugh, and the two pilots glared at each other. John was frustrated about the cheap, low-blow comment, and Hugh was still clearly sour over the best man situation. They soon gave up and went back to their soup. John’s mind, however, got stuck on Hugh’s words.

Once they’d finished their supper, a knock sounded at the door. “Everyone decent in there? Girls?”

Frank.

“Uh, yeah,” John called, lifting an eyebrow at Ruth.

The door swung open, and the Captain walked in with his lips in a straight line. “Thought you two’d be in here,” he nodded before turning to Hope. “How’s the leg?”

“I’m okay. Still hurts like a bitch, though.”

“Did you get it checked?”

Her face shifted into a grimace at the question. “I took care of it.”

“You, Hope Armstrong,” he sighed. “Are the reason I drink.”

“You know you love us,” Ruth added, tilting her head with a grin.

Frank’s attention drifted to Ruth’s figure beside John. “And how are you, Ruthie?”

The blonde looked up at John, thinking of how he’d taken care of her throughout the day. “Better now.”

“Alright, enough of the lovey eyes, you two,” he called out to them, taking a deep breath and placing his hands on his hips. “The Angel’s out of commission, and the Grove can’t send anyone tonight with the blackout, so we’re stuck here for the night.”

Both couples perked up at the news, but Hugh just groaned.

“As much as I wish I could make you stay with the Red Cross girls, I know I can’t. So you two,” Frank pointed at Gale and John. “No funny business, okay? None.”

Johnny’s mouth twitched, almost quirking into a smirk, but he was able to hold it in as Buck replied with a “Yes sir.” 

“Zero funny business,” Bucky fake saluted from his bunk.

Running a hand down his tired face, Frank scratched his mustache. “Hugh, I’m counting on you to keep an eye on them.”

“Trust me, I will.”

“Alright. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

The door closed behind him with a slam, and they all visibly relaxed. Hope moved to shuffle back onto the bed beside Gale, the wave of nausea having passed when the door flew open again. 

A cool breeze filled the hut as five men strolled into the hut, apparently oblivious of the girls until the one at the front of the column spoke up. 

“Would you look at that? Major ‘no girls in the hut’ Cleven has a girl on his bed,” he pointed at Hope before the man behind him tapped his shoulder, causing him to turn and notice Ruth. “And Egan, too. Shit, I’m surprised Charlie hasn’t joined in.” 

Gale sighed, standing up and placing his hand on Hope’s shoulder, “Hope, Ruth, these are the boys.” Buck took a breath to introduce them, but John beat him to it. 

“DEMARCOO!!” John hollered, causing Gale to groan at his friend’s childish antics. 

The man at the front just smiled. 

“Egan,” he greeted him before motioning towards Ruth, “How did you manage to snag yourself such an attractive broad?” 

Ruth’s cheeks flushed under the other man’s gaze but John just chuckled beside her, “Must be my endless charm.” 

“Sure thing, Major,” Demarco snorted, his voice lowering to a whisper as he glanced down at Ruth. “Blink twice if you need help.” 

With a shove from John, Benny laughed and turned his attention back to Hope and Gale while Bubbles moved over to greet Ruth.

“Hi again,” Bubbles waved at the blonde with a kind smile. “Glad to see you’re feelin’ better, ma’am.”

Ruth nodded from where she was tucked into John’s side. “Me too. And call me Ruth, please.”

“Oh, your bike’s outside, by the way,” Bubbles added, looking over at Bucky and pointing toward the door. A smirk appeared on the lieutenant’s face as he stepped closer to the couple with a hushed tone. “Kidd was, uh, not amused, to say the least.”

“Like I said, he’ll get over it,” John remarked, glancing over Bubbles’ shoulder at the Major in question who was conversing with Bill quietly. “Looks like he’s over it now. Jack!” 

“Wait-” Bubbles tried to stop him, but it was too late.

“Thanks for letting me borrow your jeep today.”

Jack scoffed bitterly and sent Johnny a sharp glare. “When you stole my jeep, you mean.”

“Come on, Jack,” John groaned. “I left you my bike.”

“A bike and a jeep are nowhere near the same thing,” Kidd argued, shaking his head with a sigh as his gaze fell on Ruth. “I know today was rough, and I’m glad you two are okay. I saw your skytrain, and you’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

Ruth felt the familiar lump of anxiety growing in her throat, and she cleared it quietly, keeping her voice steady. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t do it again, Bucky,” Jack nodded.

“No promises.”

Kidd’s gaze shifted to Ruth with his brows drawn together. “How do you deal with him?”

“I have no idea,” she answered tightly, the anxiety still working its way up her throat. John inspected her face, noticing the way her eyes darted around the room.

“It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?” he asked, meeting her anxious gaze.

Ruth nodded as Bucky waved bye at Jack and ushered her out the door. When the pair exited the hut, they were met by a beautiful sight. The sun was setting over the base and vibrant colors painted the sky above the runways. Silhouettes of B-17s lined the horizon, and the distant rumble of engines, with the occasional chatter of ground crewmen, filled the air. 

Ruth took a deep breath and crossed her arms over herself, the warm sunlight on her face helping to calm her racing heart. 

“Sorry, I know that was a lot of people,” he said quietly. 

“It’s not that. Today’s been a lot,” Ruth sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears as she continued to stare out at the English countryside. “I just needed a second.”

They both silently watched the sun slowly disappear behind fields of wheat as far as the eye could see, each of their minds stuck on the day.

As Johnny stood beside her with his hands on his hips, Hugh’s comment about his past replayed in his head. Before he met Ruth, everyone knew he wasn’t particular about who he spent his nights with or where he spent them, and these women didn’t seem to mind either. But all that changed when Ruth walked into his life. 

Despite his pickup lines and physical affection, John wanted to make sure Ruth knew she wasn’t just another of his “floozies” as Hope called them. She had to know that he felt something deeper beyond physical attraction, something real for her...as real as he’d ever felt. 

Mustering up his courage, John took a deep breath and broke the silence of the quiet sunset. 

“About what Hugh said earlier, or started to say,” Ruth turned to him. “It’s no secret I’ve been around,” he confessed, his eyes falling to the ground. “I’ve been with women-”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she interrupted, placing a hand on his arm.

“Yeah, I do,” he urged, moving a hand over hers. “I’ve done things I’m not too proud of. But I’ve been trying to do better…”

John acted like he wanted to say more, but stopped when a conflicted expression appeared on his face. Sensing his apprehension, Ruth squeezed his arm reassuringly. 

After a moment, he decided to keep going, his voice laced with nervousness. “You make me want to be better. You make me feel…something…everything. The other girls were…I don’t know. Distractions, maybe? Something to keep my mind off of what goes on up there.”

As Ruth watched him pour out his closely guarded heart, she saw a glimpse of a man who wasn’t as secure and confident as it seemed. She saw a man who longed to be held, taken care of, and loved but was unsure how to go about it.

“But I like this,” John gestured between them. “I like us…a lot. Today made me realize just how much. And I-I don’t want to mess this up.”

Biting her lip gently, she stepped closer, reducing the already small gap between them. “I like us, too. I meant what I said in my letter, you know. About you not being rid of me.”

“I meant what I said, too,” he replied softly, tilting his head towards her as he gently placed his hands on her hips. “You’re a unicorn, doll. One in a million, one of a kind…however you wanna say it.”

Ruth’s hands slid up John’s chest and looped around his neck, her lips slowly curving into a small grin despite the burning sensation within her stomach. “Yeah?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” John nodded as a line appeared between his brows. “I wanna do this right, and I’ve never-,” he paused, inhaling deeply. “I’ve never done this before…you know? Gone steady. But I care about you. So damn much. And I want that with you.”

“I want it too.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, the setting sun casting a golden hue on John’s face as he held her in his arms. 

“Good,” he finally sighed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at her. “Cause I didn’t have a plan B if you rejected me.”

Ruth chuckled under her breath and shook her head. “I could never reject you. I’ve been letting you kiss me for almost a month now, remember.”

“Well, you’d be surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She rolled her eyes, meeting his gaze again to find him searching her face for some answer to a silent question.

“So…what happens now?”

“Well,” Ruth whispered, her eyes flicking to his lips. “I was expecting you to kiss me, Major, but-”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” he quickly replied, tugging her flush against him and landing his lips on hers. It was a gentle kiss that confirmed their deep attachment to the other, and their future together.

Pulling away, Ruth answered his question out of breath, her words coming out in shorts pants. “How about we take it slow and see where it goes?”

Shaking his head, John’s hands slid from her waist to her cheeks and gave her another chaste kiss. When he leaned back, he peered down at her blushing face with a wide, toothy grin. “Did you know the unicorn’s my favorite extinct animal?”

As they settled in for the night, John lounged under his covers with one arm behind his head and stared up at Ruth with a mischievous grin. “Looks like the floor’s all yours, doll,” he said, gesturing to the space beside his cot.

“Oh really?” Ruth arched an eyebrow, feigning deep thought as she glanced around the hut. “I'm sure someone else has some room if you’re kicking me out…”

Without missing a beat, Bucky quickly made room for her on the narrow bed, playfully pulling back the covers and throwing his arm out for her. “Oh wow, would you look at that? A vacancy just opened up.”

She rolled her eyes and accepted his invitation, slipping into the bed beside him, immediately feeling the comforting warmth of his body. John wrapped his arm around her, his touch gentle as he settled her close against him.

“Don’t you dare hog the blankets,” she teased, her voice soft as she nestled against his side, her hand finding its place on his chest.

Bucky squeezed her waist slightly, grinning up at the ceiling. “Don’t you worry about me. I don’t think I’ll have any problem staying warm tonight.”

Beside them, Bill grumbled in response, his voice muffled as he turned away. “Bucky, just shut up and go to sleep. Some of us are flying tomorrow.”

“Night, doll,” John whispered, chuckling under his breath before tenderly kissing Ruth’s hair.

Her eyes became heavy with the day’s exhaustion, and she lazily kissed his shoulder. “Sweet dreams.”

“Oh, they will be if-”

“John! Shut the hell up!” Jack hissed through the darkness.

Finally following their request, Bucky stopped talking and instead focused on how Ruth’s small figure fit perfectly into his bulky one like a missing puzzle piece. He let the steady rise and fall of her chest against him lull him into restful sleep that he’d been lacking since they touched down in Algeria.

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[jaywonjuice]

camping trip with enhypen🏕️

pairing: bf!enha x gn reader

warnings: sfw intimacy, physical contact, kissing, mentions of food

wc: 927 words

a/n: i am honestly dying for enha to go on a proper wholesome camping trip all together, i haven’t been able to get the idea out of my head ever since soso fun </3; i only write romantically for enha adult line !

-☘︎ heeseung

spending the afternoon cloud watching, sitting in the long grass with his head resting in your lap. he keeps claiming to see the most absurd shapes forming in the sky, making you laugh so hard your ribs ache.

you’re so intent on toasting the perfect marshmallow that you don’t even notice the way he’s staring at you. ‘okay, okay, this one’s perfect!’ you beam, finally turning to face him. as you do so your breath hitches - he looks just a little too fine right now, dark hair messy under his beanie, firelight dancing and flickering across his features. he nodded without even looking, eyes never leaving your face. ‘perfect,’ he agrees.

he makes ramen as a midnight snack just for the two of you, and you stay up snuggled under a blanket talking and laughing in hushed whispers, doing your best not to disturb the others.

-☘︎ jay

you’re the only one jay ever lets get their hands on his camera, and you take full advantage, snapping endless shots of him as he’s cooking dinner, strumming his guitar, pouting in a sulk after losing at uno (you tease him mercilessly about this last one)

he gives you his hoodie to wear as it grows dark around the campfire, knowing how easily you tend to feel the cold. you lift your sweater paws to your face and breathe in the beloved, reassuring scent ~ you love the way jay always smells like sandalwood and bergamot.

you drift off to sleep in your shared sleeping bag, feeling warm and safe with his arms wrapped around you, hugging you to his chest as the playlist he made just for you hums quietly through your shared earphones.

-☘︎ jake

posing together at the back of the group photo, he slinks an arm around your waist to pull you in closer to his side, and just as jay gets done counting down to take the picture, jake leans down and plants a swift kiss on your cheek.

slipping off back to the tent for an impromptu makeout session when everyone else is too focused on roasting marshmallows to notice your absence.

lying in your sleeping bags at night, he’s holding your hands in his, absent-mindedly playing with your fingers as he listens to you talk about the book you just got finished reading. neither of you want to be the first to fall asleep, but your words gradually grow slower and softer, and his eyelids begin to feel heavy. before you know it you’re both out like twin lights, hands still loosely linked together.

-☘︎ sunghoon

noticing you fidgeting from the cold in spite of the heat from the campfire he takes your hand, guiding it to his jacket pocket and holding it there to warm you up. you hope the glow of the firelight is enough to mask the sudden flare of colour in your cheeks.

he wakes you at god-knows-what-hour in the morning and drags you out of the tent to sit and watch the sunrise with him. he knew you wouldn’t exactly be feeling overjoyed about being woken up so early, so he makes you a mug of hot chocolate to make up for it (he even added marshmallows <3). it was worth it though, you think, the view really was breathtaking. and he’d just have to take your word for it seeing as he hardly took his eyes off you the whole time.

swimming in the lake with hoon, you splash him playfully, unable to suppress your giggles at his over-the-top outraged reaction, whining that he ‘wasn’t going to get his hair wet !!!’ soon it’s a full on water fight that only ends when, instead of launching another attack, he scoops you up out of the water and all of a sudden leans in, bringing his soft lips down onto yours. now it’s his turn to laugh at the taken aback expression on your face.

-☘︎ sunoo

he smiles shyly as he presents you with the little bunch of wildflowers he’s been secretly picking for you all day. you gasp in delight - they’re so beautiful. he tucks a single cornflower behind your ear before adding ‘now i can hardly tell which of you is the flower’, making your cheeks flush.

he plucks up a dandelion and holds it out for you to close your eyes and make a wish. before you even get the chance to reopen your eyes his lips are on yours, making you blush like mad for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

the two of you take turns seeing who can tell the scariest ghost stories as you lie awake in the tent late into the night. he inevitably wins, scaring you so badly that he has to hug you close for you to fall sleep (letting you be the little spoon just this once given the exceptional circumstances…)

-☘︎ jungwon

he asks you to hang back and wait with him as you’re walking through the woods back to camp, letting the others carry on up ahead, just so that he can hold your hand because he’s too shy to hold hands in front of everyone </3

after searching for him for the best part of an hour you finally stumble across him, sat cross-legged in the next field over, determinedly linking up daisies to make you a daisy chain necklace.

the two of you sneak off in the night to watch for shooting stars. every time he spots one he lifts up his hand that’s holding yours, pointing excitedly up at the night sky with your intertwined fingers.

©jaywonjuice | do not copy or re-upload my work on any platform

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

chapter viii – gust & flame

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Eris Vanserra has been a prisoner in his own home since the day he was born. He has done what he had to in order to survive and protect the few he loves. And he is playing the long game. Waiting, waiting, and waiting for the right time to make his move, to usurp his wicked father and become High Lord of Autumn Court. But things become even more complicated when a human girl drops into his life. Perhaps Eris can wait no longer to take his throne.

Word Count: 3,500+

Warnings: spoilers for entire ACOTAR series

masterlist

Eris felt the presence beside him, on the other side of the bed. 

The fact that their entrance didn’t wake him immediately just proved how exhausted he was – both mentally and physically – and how much he was still hurting from his father's torture. 

But he wasn’t alarmed. Because only one person who could get past his wards. 

Eris opened his eyes and turned to find his mother looking down at him with worry. 

He groaned and tried to close his eyes again. “It is early, mother.”

“How bad is it, Eris?” She asked. 

And though he couldn’t see her face, he knew her gaze was studying every inch of his skin that wasn’t hidden by the bedding. 

“We have both been through worse,” Eris groaned to his mother. 

This had always been both of their tactics: minimize the pain they suffered so the other wouldn’t worry. Eris was much better at it than his mother. But he had to be, to save them all. 

Eris knew she wouldn’t leave now, even if he pretended to go back to sleep. 

So, he slowly sat up. 

Though Eris’ body was covered with thick, strong muscles and scars, Leonora would always just see a little boy. 

They were both centuries old, the two of them appeared the same age – that was the fae way. But no matter how much time had passed or how much Eris matured, he would always be her boy, her firstborn, her son. 

“Who told you?” Eris muttered with irritation.

He swung his legs out from the bed and moved to his wardrobe to throw on a loose shirt. 

Usually the servants and Beron’s guards were tight-lipped about their High Lord’s abuse. Mostly because they feared what would happen to them if they were ever caught gossiping about any of it. 

“Beron came to my bedchambers last night,” Leonora answered quietly. 

Eris paused and his gaze raced to hers, silently asking what he feared. 

“Not for that,” she clarified. “He was drunk. Mostly he came to gloat. But he muttered about what happened, as if he were both bragging and deploring his heir…”

“Gloat?” Eris repeated. “Of what?” 

“I couldn’t steer him enough to give me answers. But clearly he has made a deal of sorts. Whether it’s for money or power or a bigger army, it was not clear.” 

Eris just nodded, lost in thought on what his father’s move had been. 

But when he looked back at his mother, she was still giving him that sorrowful look. 

Leonora was a prisoner, yet she took the blame for every horrible thing Beron did to her sons. She believed she should be able to protect them, even though she couldn’t even protect herself from him. 

“Mother, do not fret,” Eris sighed as he walked to her. He kneeled before her and grasped both of her hands. “I am alive.”

And she whispered, “For how much longer? When will he finally take it too far?” 

But Eris shook his head instantly. “That will not happen. It is not what we have worked for all this time.” 

Leonora’s eyes filled with tears, but she held them back. 

“I was with her,” Eris breathed out without even realizing it. 

He wanted his mother to stop worrying about him. So, his best idea was to distract her with news of his hidden, secret mate. 

It worked. 

Leonora’s eyes widened in surprise.

She blinked, somehow putting together that Eris’ visit was probably what led to Beron punishing him. 

“Please, tell me everything,” she whispered with a soft, encouraging smile. 

“She…” Eris didn’t know how she would react. “She is not just mortal, mother. She is a…a witch. But nothing like the ones I have come across in my lifetime. She is good…and kind. She could never be evil.”

“And was she hurt?” Leonora asked, remembering how panicked her son was when he came to her rooms after feeling that his mate had been in pain. 

Eris gaze darkened as he nodded. “She risked her life saving the High Lord and Lady’s son. Used magic to protect him and tried to fight off a fae infantry – all on her own.” 

A smirk appeared on Leonora’s lips. “She is brave. But I already knew she would be.” 

Eris frowned, remembering how he had spoken to Y/N. “I was terrible to her.” 

Leonora’s brows rose. “Why, my love?”

He shook his head. “We can never be, mother. It is better this way. She should not think kindly of me. We cannot be lovers. We cannot even be friends.” 

His mother sighed, but knew better than to argue with him. 

“She seems to be fitting in well at the Night Court. They have become her…friends.”

Leonora swore she saw a flash of…envy in her son’s eyes at the word ‘friends.’ Something Eris longed for, but was incapable of securing while pretending to be such a monster.

“The Shadowsinger watches over her – perhaps, too closely.”

“And how does that make you feel?” She asked. 

Eris’ jaw tensed. “It would not be the first time I’ve wanted to stab that male.” 

“And what would you do if she fell in love with another?”

He took in a deep breath. “I would be relieved. She is too good for me, mother. A life together would only bring her misery. She would be happy in Night Court. She would be free.” 

Leonora cupped her son’s face gently. “Eris, you are not the mask you wear to protect your very life. I wish I could have given you a life that allowed you to be the male you truly are.” 

–––––––––––

“While it is a protective crystal, its power fades after time. Charge it under every full moon, and its magic will remain strong,” Y/N advised. 

The customer was a female fae, who Y/N learned would be labeled as a “lesser fae” – a term she thought was rather insulting. The female looked similar to Y/N’s hosts, but had horns coming out of the corners of her forehead. 

But her smile was kind, she was polite, and she asked many questions about the shop – and that was all Y/N could ask for in a customer. 

“Thank you so much,” she said to Y/N with a beaming smile. 

Y/N waved as she left. “Of course. Have a lovely day!”

Once Emerie had told Y/N of her shop, she was inspired. Rhysand had not stopped sending her gifts after the attack on Nyx. First it was somewhat innocent: shrubs, flowers, herbs. But then it became jewelry and clothes finer than Y/N had ever seen. 

Y/N smiled as she remembered the conversation in Rhysand’s office just over a month ago:

“I have a business proposition,” Y/N had told Rhysand one day in his office at the River House. She'd politely asked Cassian to fly her there and the Illyrian refused to give them privacy, utterly curious on what Y/N needed to say to his brother. 

“I’m listening,” Rhysand answered with a smirk as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. 

“Would you loan me a shop?”

Rhysand’s brows shot up. “A shop?”

“Yes, for my…”

“Witchcraft?” Rhysand offered with amusement. 

Y/N still winced at the word, but nodded. “I really believe I can help people – with ailments, stress, protection. All I need is a loan so I can rent a space in Velaris – something with a backyard. I will pay you back for the store space, with interest. And then we can continue to cut the profits 60/40.”

Rhysand stopped his leaning. “Alright.”

“A-A-Alright?” Y/N stuttered back. 

“Sounds like a splendid idea,” the High Lord explained. “However, you will not pay me back for the store. And the profits remain your own.”

“B-B-But…what are you getting out of it?” 

Rhysand shrugged. “You don’t seem to appreciate my gifts of jewelry and clothes. This is the first thing I’ve seen you excited about since you have stayed here. Also, my people would benefit from such a store. Velaris has fine healers, but it comes at a cost. And they are often too busy for injuries and sicknesses that are not life threatening.” 

“Rhys has more money than he knows what to do with,” Cassian fake whispered from behind her. 

“This is not a business proposition then,” Y/N tried to argue. “This is just a gift.” 

“And?” Rhys asked.

“Take the offer,” Cassian urged her. 

“Fine. But no more gifts!” Y/N pointed threateningly at the High Lord. “This is it. No more clothes. No more jewelry.”

Now Y/N had been in operation for two weeks and was shocked at how much clientele she had already received. People were curious about both her and her merchandise.

Perhaps she had to thank Cassian for drunkenly screaming at every pub he could about her store. He'd practically scared people into agreeing to stop by once it opened. Cassian was a better advertiser than any expensive posters could have been. 

As she was nearing closing, Y/N tried to start a bit of clean up. Then she heard the door ring behind her. 

“Be with you in a moment,” she called over her shoulder. 

When she returned to the front of the store, she stopped in her tracks as she saw the back of a clearly male fae. His hair that bright red she couldn’t stop thinking about. Though it was long, unlike the shoulder-length she had known.

But when the male turned around, she found that it was not Eris. 

“Have I frightened you?” He asked her. 

It was then Y/N realized his right eye was missing and in it’s place seemed to be some sort of gold substitute. His face was also scarred from what appeared to be an injury that must’ve been the reason for his missing eye. 

“N-No. I apologize. I thought you were someone else.” 

The male tilted his head at that. 

Y/N tried to recover and cleared her throat as she stood up straighter. “Can I help you find something?”

He turned back around to look at the merchandise. “Perhaps a love potion,” he muttered.

But by his tone, it was clear he was not serious. 

Y/N still played along, “You won’t find those here. But I am capable of making one – for a price.” 

He whipped around, but then relaxed as he read her teasing expression. 

“Love potions are a dangerous thing,” Y/N continued. “I wonder why people are so desperate to make someone love them…” 

Her words seem to have a negative effect on the male. And Y/N suddenly found herself feeling guilty for the jest. 

“Are you sure I can’t help with anything?” 

“No, truly. I had heard the idle chatter about the human girl and her new store in Velaris. I’ve just returned from my travels and wished to see it for myself.” 

“Well, I am sorry to disappoint,” Y/N half joked. 

He smirked at her. “You haven’t.” 

Y/N felt her face heat from the comment. Was he trying to flirt with her? 

The male walked closer, getting slightly in her space. “But I must say: I am curious as to how a mortal has found her way to Velaris…”

Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Do you always expect strangers to tell you their life story without hesitation?”

He smiled and offered his hand. “I am Lucien.”

She took it. “Just Lucien… no surname?” 

Y/N didn’t know what made her think she should push for it. Perhaps just a feeling. 

His expression seemed to darken at the question. “Lucien Vanserra, though I do not associate with my family, so I tend not to use it if I can help it.” 

Y/N’s heart dropped and her eyes widened. All humor had disappeared. “You’re Eris’ brother?” 

Lucien was no longer teasing either. “You know my brother?”

For some reason, she felt like it was the wrong thing to tell this male. 

“You are from Autumn Court…” Y/N pointed out. “Why are you in Velaris?” 

Lucien watched her for a moment before he said, “I will answer that if you explain how a mortal came to the Night Court and knows my brother.” 

Y/N took in a shaky breath, but knew it was a fair trade.

“I was captured in the mortal realms by merchants who wished to…sell us…to fae buyers.” Her eyes glazed over as she suddenly trhust back into those traumatizing memories. “When we were crossing through Autumn Court, I managed to free us. Your brother found me in the woods and brought me here.” 

“He brought you here?” Lucien urged. 

She nodded. “From what I’ve been told, Autumn Court is not safe. Rhysand and Feyre have provided sanctuary for me here in the Night Court.” 

Mentioning the High Lord and Lady so casually made Lucien’s brow quirk. It just further proved that she had a relationship with them, and a personal one. 

“How peculiar,” Lucien hummed, clearly thinking deeply on her story. 

“W-What?” Y/N asked nervously as she shifted her weight. 

“My brother is not known for being merciful. He is sadistic. My father’s pet. And he is not fond of mortals.”

Y/N had nothing to say to that. She hardly knew Eris. He barely spoke to her that one night. And it was clear her friends here were not his friends. 

However, Eris spoke so boldly about ending his father’s life and taking the throne. He didn't seem to be his father's pet at all.

But Y/N’s instincts warned her of sharing such information with his brother. 

She cleared her throat after a few awkward seconds of silence. “Your father is not a good male, I have heard.”

“That is a far nicer way to put it than I usually do,” Lucien huffed. “I have been exiled from Autumn. I do not associate with my family anymore. And in return, they all pretend I do not exist – unless we have the misfortune of crossing paths.”

“And what happens if you cross paths?”

“Oh, they usually try to kill me,” Lucien shrugged. 

Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly at that. Her family had been sacred to her. They loved and protected each other – until the very end. 

“I am an emissary for the Night Court now,” Lucien added casually. “I have an apartment on the Sidra. But with my traveling, I am rarely there.”

She gave a short nod in understanding. “How did you come to choose the Night Court as your new home?”

Y/N asked because she was in the process of doing the same. But she still felt like this…imposter while being here. It wasn’t just being a mortal and a witch in a fae realm. It was…something more. Everyone had been welcoming of her presence, yet she still felt out of place, like she was meant to be somewhere else. 

Lucien hesitated before answering, “My mate is here.” 

“Oh,” Y/N blurted out without meaning to. 

There was still so much to learn about what these faes called “mating bonds.” They sounded magical, like what mortals called soul-mates. She saw how Feyre and Rhysand were with each other. And she watched Cassian and Nesta’s relationship – not to mention, she heard it rather frequently at the House of Wind. But the most unusual thing Y/N had heard was that some mates were not actually in love – Feyre had mentioned it when discussing Rhysand’s parents in passing. 

“I can only assume you have met her,” Lucien continued. 

“Oh?”

“Elain. Feyre’s sister.” 

Y/N blinked in shock. “Elain is your mate?”

Surely the girl would have mentioned her mate, even plugging him casually into conversation. Y/N had always assumed she was unbound, different from her two sisters. 

In fact, Y/N had caught Elain carefully sneaking looks at Azriel every time they were in the same room. 

Lucien chuckled darkly at her response. “She despises me.” 

Y/N opened and closed her mouth multiple times before saying, “B-But…But she is your mate…”

Before Lucien could answer or Y/N could ask anymore questions, the door opened again, ringing the entrance bell. 

Azriel walked in, already glaring at the other male in the store. 

Y/N assumed he had either been listening or his shadows had been spying on her. 

It appeared the two males were having somewhat of a stand off. 

“Lucien,” Azriel nearly growled in greeting. 

“Azriel,” the redhead replied curtly. 

The tension between the two males was impossible for Y/N to miss.

The Shadowsinger’s gaze softened when it moved to Y/N. “Are you ready?”

Every day the store was open, either Cassian or Azriel came to take her home, flying her back to the House of Wind. Once, it was Rhysand who claimed he wanted to see if the store met his standards. But Feyre had whispered to Y/N later that Rhys was just happy that Y/N was happy, and wanted to see it for himself.

Y/N had also shared that she was considering getting herself an apartment in Velaris, once she made enough from the store to afford rent.

But Azriel had immediately shot down the idea, explaining that it was safer for her to live with them. Y/N had expected at least a couple of them to side with her and tease Azriel for being overly cautious. But no one spoke, all silently backing Ariel’s reasoning. 

Y/N nodded to the Shadowsinger. “I just have to lock up.” 

She turned back to Lucien, “I have something for you.” And she skipped to the back of the store. 

In the short time she was gone, Azriel quietly stepped further into the store, placing himself in a spot that put him between Lucien and Y/N. 

The redhead looked at the Shadowsinger as if he were silently asking, ‘Is that really necessary?’

Y/N returned with a wooden bowl, a black candle, and a pouch of what appeared to be thick-grained salt. 

“Place the candle in the middle, pour water around the candle in the bowl, sprinkle salt in. And then light the candle.” 

“What for?” Lucien asked, slightly suspicious. 

Y/N smiled softly. “Think of the emotions and thoughts that weigh you down. The candle will burn your worries and anything thing that lingers to haunt you. Your mind will feel lighter after.”

A part of her expected him to laugh. But Lucien seemed appreciative of her gesture.

He asked her, “How much do I owe you?” 

But she shook her head before he could even finish the question. “It is a gift.”

Lucien looked like he wanted to argue further. But managed to stop himself.

“Thank you,” Lucien gave a subtle bow of his head. 

Then he watched Y/N for a moment, as if she were a puzzle. It made her a little anxious, being observed in such a way. 

Azriel cleared his throat. 

“Right,” Y/N jumped slightly. “Let me go get my coat and keys.” She disappeared into a small backroom. 

“Why did my brother bring her here?” Lucien quickly asked in a hushed tone. 

Azriel remained composed. “Perhaps that is a question for your brother…” 

Lucien gave a final glare to the Shadowsinger before he walked out of the store. 

Y/N came out a moment later, with her cloak already draped over her shoulders. 

“Giving away your merchandise for free is no way to run a business,” Azriel teased. 

Y/N smirked. “You weren’t saying that when I gifted you that tea…”

“Come on,” Azriel smirked and nudged her toward the door. 

He patiently waited for her to lock up the store.  

“You know,” Y/N muttered. “Your reaction to both Vanserras is very telling, Azriel.”

But Azriel picked her up in his arms and shot into the air before he acknowledged her question. 

Y/N yelped, never getting used to the feeling of flying. Even after all this time, she had not grown to like it. Perhaps she was always meant to keep her feet on the ground. 

“I do not trust them,” Azriel finally answered when they had reached their altitude. 

“Don’t trust them or don’t like them?” Y/N challenged. 

Azriel looked down at her. “Both.” 

It was only a few minutes later that they landed carefully at the House of Wind. 

But Y/N didn’t walk or continue with Azriel.

Instead, she planted her feet. 

Azriel turned to find her giving him an expression he didn’t quite understand. 

“That is why you and Elain play your game…because she has a mate.” 

Azriel jaws flexed. “Did the wind tell you that? Or Lucien?” 

Y/N stepped toward him. “The wind has told me many other things about you – but not that. Lucien only told me that Elain was his mate. He spoke nothing of you.” 

Azriel stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “And what does your wind tell you of me?”

She looked down at her feet, suddenly losing the courage to stare into his beautiful, hazel eyes. “They say you love broken females…” 

Azriel took half a step back, caught off guard by the harsh truth she mumbled. 

“And I realized…I am not broken." Her gaze finally met his. "I am only lost.” 

She sounded…disappointed. Or was Azriel mishearing it?

Either way, the Shadowsinger was left speechless.

Y/N’s head now hung even lower than before, as she spoke to the ground, “I will see you early tomorrow for training.” 

She brushed past him to quickly retreat to her bedroom. 

And Azriel just turned to watch her go. 

––––––––

OK. OK. OK. This has been my favorite chapter to write so far.

So, please, please, please share your thoughts: comment, reblog, send a message.

What do you think of Lucien and Y/N's meeting?

How do you think Azriel actually feels about Y/N?

chapter ix

[igotanidea]

Closeness: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Just a little something. May be the valentines vibe I get today (even though I'm not really into it). However, this is about different kinds of being close with someone, not only in the physical matter.

Warnings: nudity, but nothign explicit.

4 am.

4 am and he was not there, instead running around the Hell’s kitchen dressed up as the devil, protecting the city.

She hated it.

She hated every second he was putting his life on the line, even though he always claimed he’s doing it to keep the neighborhood safe. Her included.

She loved him, really, but those arguments were weak.

So instead of getting any sleep she was just pacing around the apartment in nerves, absentmindedly biting on her thumbnail, a bad habit from the past. Wondering if he’s going to get back injured, bruised or bloodied. Considering the possibility that she won’t be able to patch him up and she would have to call Claire for help. Something she hated since it made her feel so small, helpless and useless. It was hard to be in a relationship with vigilante.

Y/n didn’t really have much experience in relationship and maybe that is why Matt sometimes pushed on her boundaries to the point where she got frustrated and went to sleep on the couch. But still, she loved him deeply and he reciprocated with the same amount of flame. Their love however was something different from his previous relationship. When he was with Electra it was mostly about physical attraction, sex, the thrill of the cases and patrols they were on together. With Claire it was more of a heat of the moment. With Karen it was some sort of work-related fantasy. But with Y/N….. something entirely different. Something way deeper.

Even despite all his night missions and her busy schedule they always found a way back to each other. In the middle of the day, in the most crazy hours at night, there were always those little pieces of love and affection they left for each other.

Even despite the fact that Foggy was warning her she would suffer because of him, she never listened. Besides, Foggy was being dragged through Matt’s shit on a day to day basis and still stayed so who was he to give her advice.

Even despite his bad track record in relationship she was ready to fight for them. Setting some ground rules, but she would never strip him from his Daredevil part. She did not push to join him, knowing her poor to zero skills in fighting and she usually wasn’t the person to stress and obsess about his nights work, staying up and waiting for him. Nope. And maybe that was why it worked well. Until tonight.

Honestly, she had no idea why she woke up from her slumber. At this point she was used to him getting back to bed at the early morning hours, getting only a few more to sleep his tiredness away. She got used to getting up to the sight of his exhausted form, and kissing him goodbye softly before going to work. She was accustomed with him taking a detour from Nelson and Murdock to steal some time alone with her while walking home. So why was tonight different? Groaning in annoyance she wondered what to do to shut her racing mind up.

4.15

Obviously she could not call anyone to talk it out. Foggy would probably kill her if she woke him up and then, being the lawyer he was, he would figure out a way to get out of the murder charge. She couldn’t focus on the book she was reading before and music will only amplify her thoughts. So turning the light off she just laid back down, staring at the ceiling,  illuminated by the street lamps, and suffused with the neon. It was unusually quiet, maybe because Daredevil was dealing with thugs who would cause any trouble. It was almost peaceful when she started slowing down her breath, a technique to deal with anxiety……

5.10

“Hi Mattie…..”

“Did I wake you?” he asked quietly, almost with guilt, laying on the side to face her, even if he could not see her.

“Yes. But it’s fine” she muttered getting closer to him. “Are you all right?”

“I am now.” He answered locking hands on her waist and burring nose in her messy bed head.

“Mhm. Sure, liar.” Y/n smirked “tell me where does it hurt.” Her soft, warm hand slowly moved up his bare thorax searching for the sore spot “guide me.”

And so he took her wrist and moved it to up to rest on his upper left side.

“The chest? Not your usual hurting place …..”

“The heart.” He whispered

“Oh, I don’t think I can do a lot about it. Maybe you should see a specialist…..”

“You already helping more than you think…..”

“Am I? You know what they say, there’s no joking with the matter of the heart” she smiled sleepily.

“Believe me, I know. But I think mine is in good hands.”

“You think so?”

“Mhm. I’m sure.”

“All right then. But something tells me you need something more from me, right?”

“I…..” he hesitated, getting a bit embarrassed

“come on, tell me, at this point nothing can make me blush anymore” she propped herself on the elbow “Matt” she called softly and he turned towards her “what is it?”

“I need to feel you.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Like what?” she tilted her head “what exactly did you think I thought about? I believe you just need some cuddles?”

“I do…. But….”

“You want me to take my, well, technically it’s yours, shirt off? Is that what you meant?”

He just nodded, his cheeks a bit flushed. It was both funny and touching seeing this tough Daredevil turning into soft and gentle boy for her.  

“Can you…..?” he could not force himself to finish “I don’t want to do anything, just….”

“Hey. Hey, Matt. It’s ok, it’s absolutely ok. I get it.” She lifted the shirt and laid back down next to him embracing him “it’s just new, but I like it. Does it make you feel better?”

He just hummed in pleasure. It was new for him as well. In any other case with any other person he wouldn’t be able to control himself, jumping right into action and going full physical. With her….. he just wanted that closeness that didn’t came from sex. The way her skin felt on his, her comforting hold, the way she trusted him. At this moment, he was just melting, feeling loved, accepted and wanted. Like a baby. This was kind of tenderness he never get to experience before. Unconditional. Intimacy that did not want anything in return, that did not lead to anything more than just two heart beating next to each other. Only so much and that much. He took a sharp breath not really capable of processing all the feels she was giving him.

“It’s ok.” She reassured him cupping his cheek “it’s ok, Mattie. You’re safe with me….”

Normally he would argue with that statement, but it was too much of a beautiful moment to ruin it.

“I love you….” he whispered grabbing her hand and kissing each of her knuckles

“I love you too, Mattie.”

“Can we just stay like this for a while longer?”

“Mhm. But I got barely two hours left till I have to get ready for work.”

“I’ll take whatever you give me. Thank you…..”

“Anytime, Mattie. Anytime” she yawned slowly drifting off in his arms.   

[slafkovskys]

say johnny is not able to be there when young reader graduates from college because of the playoffs. johnny is sad because he wants you to know that supports you fully. he racks his brain to come up woth anything he can do to make it up to you.

she hadn’t stayed at his apartment the night before like she had been, choosing to stay at her own place instead. she wakes up to a knock on the door and is greeted by a delivery man weighed down with balloons and flowers. there’s a card attached to one of them and as her eyes drift across the thin slip of paper, tears threaten to spill out:

sorry that i couldn’t be there for this special day. there aren’t enough words in the dictionary for me to describe how proud i am of you or what you have accomplished. i’m so thankful you’ve allowed me to experience this journey with you and can only hope that you’ll continue to allow me to let me tag along to your cool parties at your fancy new big girl job. i’m so proud to know you and call you mine.

love you most, j

her friends find her sobbing over the roses when they wake a few minutes later. she gets her phone and sends johnny a text, you’re such an asshole for sending those so early. i can’t stop crying. i love you.

johnny shakes his head at the message, typing out a you would’ve been more mad if they came when you had makeup on because he knows his girl. then he starts trying to find the proper link for the graduation livestream because even though he couldn’t physically be there, there was no way he was missing his girl walk that stage.

[dw19791967]

That Type of Girl Part 2

Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)

Warnings: language, unrequited love, slight angst, some fluff, mentions of torture, mentions of sexy times

This is the second fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me! This part is a bit shorter but I am going to try to make the next one longer. I also attempted to make a tag list, if for some reason it is not right, please let me know!

_____________________

I was pushed up against the wall, Dean had his hands all over my body. My legs wrapped around his hips. His mouth moving against mine. “You are so gorgeous sweetheart, you have no idea how long I have wanted this.” Dean moaned against my neck.

“Me too Dean” I said breathlessly. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Dean actually wanted me as much as I wanted him. He continued moving his body against mine. His mouth moving down my chest. 

Just as it was getting to the good part, I woke up in a sweat. 

Of course it was a dream. Damn it. I really needed to get laid evidently. Somehow I knew though, my mind would still drift back to Dean.

I reached over to check my phone, just after 3 am. Why do I always wake up wide awake at this time. It’s so annoying. It usually tended to happen more often when I had a lot on my mind. Of course I did currently. Dean was in a bad place mentally. Sam was better at coping with things like this.

Dean has always been so hard on himself. I tried to mend Dean’s pieces back together as best as I knew how. Making sure he had all his favorite things. He told me to stop buying him stuff, even though he did appreciate it greatly. I tended to shower the ones I loved with gifts. I was never a physically affectionate person until I really trusted someone and knew they cared about me. I have been that way ever since I was little. For some reason it was easy for me with the boys though. When we met, I felt like I had known them for a lifetime. 

I decided since I was up, I would head to the bathroom and maybe try to catch up on some research. As I made my way into the library, I noticed a light was already on. There was Dean with his head down on the table snoring softly. I smiled to myself. He looked so peaceful, I enjoyed moments like this. I could stare freely without him seeing. As I walked closer, Dean shifted. Please dear lord let him keep sleeping. He started to stir. Damn it.

“Hey Dean, I think you should head to bed” I patted his arm lightly.

“What time is it?” he mumbled back. Head still down on the table.

“Just after 3” I stated.

“Why and the hell are you up this early?” He finally sat up. Bed head sprawled all over, his eyes adjusting to the room. 

“Couldn’t sleep” I moved to sit across from him.

“Nightmare?” he asked.

Oh Dean, my sweet Dean if you only knew what I was dreaming. I would die before that happens though.

“Nah, just a lot on my mind ya know?” I better come up with something better than that, he tends to want to know more details then I am willing to give.

“Yeah I get it …. you know I’m always here if you want to talk about it” he stated with a small smile.

I’m surprised he doesn’t ask me for the details. He must be really exhausted.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” I replied. 

We sat there in comfortable silence. Sure, I would love to open up to him about how I feel but knew no matter what I said or how I said it, it would end by me being devastated, having to pack my bags, and never seeing the boys again. And that is something I am definitely not ok with. So I hide my feelings, I bury them deep inside. I keep hoping the longer I do it, the easier it will get but that hasn’t happened so far.

“I guess I better try to get some shut eye, Sammy said he found a case last night so we are heading out first thing in the AM. You should probably head back to bed too sweetheart” he stretched as he stood up.

“Yeah, I doubt I will be able to fall back asleep though, I’m just gonna try to catch up on some research. You go get some much deserved rest though!” I gave him a small smile.

He winked at me, “I’m sure as hell gonna try” he started heading to his room.

My cheeks are definitely red.

Damn him for making me feel like a pile of mush. 

____________________________________________

“So what are we thinking, Demons?” Dean was driving, Sam shotgun, and of course I was sprawled out in the backseat.

“I mean maybe man, I am not entirely sure. All the victims have been women, and they have been tortured. But the weirdest part is all of them were only missing for a day.” Sam was reading over the case files.

“Why the hell would they only want them for a day?” Dean looked at me in the rearview mirror. I honestly had no idea why they would do that. Usually Demons like to take their time and keep their victims for longer, unless they were on a timeline.

After we arrived in the small town, Sam went to the morgue and the police station. Dean and I stayed back to look over the case files closer.

“I mean this is just weird, why keep them for such a short time? The only thing I can think of is they want to up the victim count.” I looked at Dean. Of course he was more experienced than me with things like this. I had always stuck to re-search up until I turned 16.

I was raised a hunter like Sam and Dean, but my dad was always protective of me. He never wanted me out in the field. I think he also worried about how well I would do since I was overweight. He never said it but of course I could tell that was part of the problem. 

“I mean maybe, why pick five victims in the same town though? Why not move on ? Unless they like the risk of hunting on the same ground.” he moved from the bed to sit at the table.

“Could be. I’m at a loss.” I massaged my head. I could feel a migraine coming on. I usually got them when I was stressed, and here lately I am always stressed.

“Ok, I think I’ve figured it out.” Sam walked back into our motel room. “So all the victims attended the same church, so I think that is where we need to start. The victims did have sulfur under their fingernails. All of them were single, lived alone, and worked at different places.”

“A demon choosing victims at a church? That is just wrong in so many ways. So what is the plan?” I closed my laptop.

“Well Y/N since you asked” Sam grinned at me. Great, I know what he is going to say next.

“You want me to go to the church and see what I can find out?” they could definitely tell I did not think this was a great idea, I never had a good poker face.

“I think that is our best bet, I mean you are a woman and you also happen to be single. I think it’s best if you talk to some of the other women and find out what you can. They are having a small gathering tonight to pray for the victims and their families” Sam looked at me like this was no big deal.

“Is Y/N being bait seriously the best option?” Dean never did like me being bait. I assumed it was because he thought I couldn’t hold my own, but he just told me it was because he liked knowing I had back up. Whatever.

“I mean yeah Dean unless you can magically change into a woman it’s all I got, plus it’s not like you and I won’t be there. We will just keep to the sidelines. Y/N is more than capable of handling this.” Sam said this with so much confidence, glad someone believes in me. 

“Yeah Dean, it will be fine” I looked at him with a small smile. I am a firm believer in fake it till ya make it so the more I tell myself everything will be fine, I’m sure it will be. 

“Alright, let’s head out I guess. At least there will be single chicks there.” Dean winked at me.

I feel a pit in my stomach.

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea after all.

Tag List:

@hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story: Chapter 7

Warnings: None, I think... (slight coercion?? maybe??)

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.1k

“My name is Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. a secret division of the U.S. government. And around this time last year, someone hacked our system. The only person with the capability to do that is Mr. Stark here. There were a few search queries we were able to recover. They were all related to superhuman abilities that can heal or transfer physical harm. Around then, the ‘X-Men' vigilante team started slowing down, switching out their strongest members with a noticeable lack of two of their constants, Cyclops and Lifemender.” Director Fury remained still, arms crossed.

Crap. He knows everything, down to the name I was given, “I-I’m sorry, I don't believe I follow.”

“You are Lifemender, Mx.-”

“Kyrie. Call me Kyrie. Just, please, stop butchering my last name.”

“My apologies, Mx. Kyrie.” His voice rang with sarcasm, intentional or not. He walked about a third of the distance between where he stood initially and where I stood while extending his arm gesturing to me, “We at S.H.I.E.L.D. need your, unique abilities. We recently found an operative who has been missing for quite some time. We recovered him about a month ago, but he’s still unconscious. That is where you come to play.” 

“Let me guess, you want me to what- make him conscious?”

“Basically.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I’m sorry, this isn’t a request.”

“No. As in I physically cannot bring him back into consciousness. I can heal physical injuries and illnesses, but what you’re asking of me isn’t something my powers can do.”

“Well, if that’s all you came to ask- leave.” Tony piped up, moving from behind his desk to his mini bar, drink in hand.

“Unfortunately, due to your past helping a vigilante organization I’m afraid it’s between this and prison.” Tony choked on his drink, “You don’t need to wake up the agent. All you have to do is one- sign an NDA and two- show up and do what you can. If things don’t work out the way the science geeks want I won’t hold you accountable but your participation is required.”

“Okay.” I breathed heavily, fidgeting with my hands, “If this doesn't work none of the fire will be blown back my way?”

“Everyone involved has already signed an NDA regarding what happens while on site. I know what happened in Milan, if someone has loose lips they will be taken care of. You will be as safe as I can promise.” I was trembling, on one hand, this could lead to another purge of mutants, I could be tested on again, or maybe I could just go to prison, “I know damn well your shoes are not that interesting.”

“The last time I was involved with the U.S. Government I was tested on and treated with less dignity than a sewer rat. How am I supposed to know that it won’t happen again? That all of this isn’t just an elaborate path to resume your testing?”

“I’m sorry, testing-” Tony tried to speak.

“Trask, his associates, and all personnel who supported Trask’s actions have been terminated and replaced.”

I couldn't help but chuckle, he must be used to having the information that when there’s a gap he doesn’t even know to fill, “I’m aware. Are you aware that I’m twenty-six?”

Silence filled the room, I couldn’t tell if the director was trying to piece together this puzzle or do the mental math.

“Can someone explain what is happening?” Tony spoke, finally getting a full sentence, “Trask was a businessman in the late sixties-early seventies before he was found selling national secrets to foreign offices. What does he have to do with- well, whatever this is?”

Fury and I both shifted to face Tony, “Mr. Stark, that is the public reason for his removal and imprisonment. Not to say they were false accusations, but he was far more involved with the Government than most know. Bolivar Trask was conducting highly-illegal experiments for the U.S., of which all subjects were of the genetic group known as ‘mutants’. He was ousted after a mutant saved the president’s life.”

“Okay, but then Kyrie was born a decade and a half after Trask got-“

“I understand that. But if it wasn’t Trask then who”

“Does it matter now?”

“It does, but not as much as getting you to the triskelion.”

“Then let’s go.”

After spending the rest of the day packing, then on a five-hour flight, topped with a thirty-minute drive, I stood in front of a behemoth of a building. Three concrete columns, joined together by a central cylinder in what must look like a radiation symbol from above.

The three of us, and the redoubtable presence of the two men’s security teams. As we crossed the bridge over the river leading into the facility the Director spoke, “This is the triskelion. You’ll be working in one of the secure underground levels. If that's alright?”

“I’ll be fine, I think. Probably…”

Tony practically huffed behind me, followed by a noticeable uptick in his pace to walk in front of the director and me, “Well then, if you’re fine with it, I’d like to hurry this along. I will need my secretary for a fair bit of work.”

“Calm your shit, Stark. My business with Mx. Eirsson.”

 “Then let’s get this over with.” I walked past Tony and towards the lobby.

From even a few yards off I could see the inside of the building, the first visible story was somewhere between millennial gray and beige, but as soon as the front doors I saw the second story was painted black with natural wood accents- the opposite wall an off-white painted brick- sleek and withdrawn.

After all my ogling Tony nudged me with his shoe to let me know I was falling behind. I followed him and the director towards an elevator that, apparently, had a keycard reader. The heavy metal doors opened with pristine smoothness Tony and the director stepped in after a moment I stepped into the elevator with them, two MIB-looking men stepping in with us, and watched the director as he pressed the button labeled B3.

The descent was silk-smooth, the stop slight and subtle before the doors opened into a sterile, metal corridor. Director Fury walked through the twists and turns of the passage with efficiency- I struggled to keep up with him, almost hitting a few corners along the way- before he opened a door and motioned for me.

I walked through the doorframe into a flat, white room. There was a medical bed in the middle of the room, surrounded by hospital machines, occupied by an almost-too-tall blonde man I recognized from Logan's lectures.

"Director?"

"Yes? Is there a problem?"

I turned to face him, "You never said my 'patient' was Steve Rogers, Captain Rogers, Captain America..."